PSYCHOLOGY IN THEORY AND APPLICATION IN PRESS BY THE SAME AUTHOR ETHICS IN THEORY AND APPLICATION THOMAS Y. CROWELL CO. NEW YORK PSYCHOLOGY IN THEORY AND APPLICATION BY HORATIO W? DRESSER, Ph.D. NEW YORK THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1924 By THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY Printed in the United States of America PREFACE The purpose of this book is to coordinate the various di- visions and applications of psychology so far as they be- long under the head of science. As the book is not a mere treatise on applied psychology, the practical motive has not been given undue prominence. It is not an exposition of a special point of view, such as behaviorism, since par- tisanship of this sort would limit the work of coordination and would exclude issues by no means settled among psychologists. Nor is the discussion confined either to in- dividual or to social psychology. The book has been written to meet the kind of need which arises in science when knowledge increases so rapidly that systematic thought can hardly keep pace with it. Some would say that the work of a special science ends with the accurate de- scription and explanation of the facts peculiar to it. But others maintain that within the field of a special science there is need of the highest possible unification or syste- matization, preparatory to the greater work of philosophy in interpreting the achievements of all the sciences. Coordination of this sort is especially called for in psy- chology, as the science which affords a common basis for many of the interests of most vital concern to man. At present there is room for such diversity of opinion, termi- nology and approach, that the student turns from one di- vision of the psychological field to another almost in won- der that there is a common object of study, namely, the human mind. Meanwhile popular thought has complicated the situation by introducing conceptions, such as the sub- conscious, which are struggling for scientific recognition. A few attempts at coordination have been made, but with whole branches of psychology in its application omitted. Hence the need of a book which approaches the task in the V VI Preface spirit of science for the sake of coordination, but without the partisanships which too readily prejudice either the theory or its practical values. The book is intended for both students and teachers in any field like that of the social sciences, ethics, education, the industries, to which psychology is being applied. It is intended also for the general student and reader inter- ested in the psychic factor, in human nature as a point of view. Advocates of popular types of thought will find their special interests, such as suggestion, put in relation to allied topics and over against the kind of objection which the man of science urges. Recognition is given to the "new psychology," whatever that term may at present mean, but with regard for the fact that the existence of the uncon- scious is still matter of dispute. Psychology has been experiencing a remarkable growth. Our purpose is to intro- duce sufficient system to make possible an estimate of this development without too greatly narrowing the theoretical field, or forgetting that every writer or teacher must es- pouse a unifying point of view in order to make any coordi- nation in theory or practice. The book presupposes a measure of interest in the prob- lems of psychology, but Part One has been prepared so that it may be used as a text-book in introductory courses, by the aid of references to standard works on the subject. References are given throughout this Part to Warren's "Elements of Human Psychology," and Woodworth's "Psychology," as convenient text-books for supplementary study. Less space than usual is devoted to such topics as Sensation, Perception, Mind and Brain; since these are treated at length in the standard w'orks. in which topics are ordinarily omitted that are here considered in detail. The subject of Abnormal Psychology is considered in relation to various conceptions of the Deeper Self. Industrial Psy- chology is considered from a practical point of view, with references to books that belong to some extent outside of the usual field of psychology. The remainder of the book is devoted to Social Psychology. Obviously the writer who undertakes to cover so wide Preface VII a field must borrow freely. The foot-notes and references may be regarded as in part an acknowledgment of this in- debtedness. The author acknowledges special indebted- ness to his teachers, Josiah Royce and William James, the former a pioneer in pointing the way to the social mean- ing of the self, and the latter a genius in describing the real mind which we all know. Among recent works, of great value in the development of a unifying clue to be fol- lowed throughout, may be mentioned W. McDougall's "Outline of Psychology." Horatio W. Dresser January, 1924. CONTENTS Part One GENERAL PSYCHOLOGY CHAPTER PAGE I. Types of Psychology 1 Popular Approaches-Applied Psychology- Intellectualism - The Experimental Method - Mental Evolution - Heredity - Behavior- ism-Objections-Reconstruction-The Drive -Purpose-Summary. II. Elementary Principles 19 Mind and Brain-Reactions-Behavior-Sen- sation-Properties and Classification-Sen- sations as Signs - Perception - Perceptual Patterns-Space Perception-Instinct-In- stinctive Dispositions-Instinct and Experi- ence-Impulse-Disposition-Summary. III. Habit and Conation 38 Basis of Habit-Reasons for Habit-Maxims for Daily Use-Habit and Will-Habit-for- mation-Meaning of Habit-The Place of Consciousness - Mechanism and Conscious- ness-Origin of the Will-Desire-Conation -Scope of Conation-Summary. IV. Affection and Emotion 55 Feeling-Organic Feelings-Feeling as Back- ground-Affection-Pain-Pain and Plea- sure-Emotion-Bodily Responses-Personal Emotion - Emotional Activity - Results of Emotion - Emotion as Self-realization - Summary. IX X Contents CHAPTER PAGE V. Association and Memory 74 Imagery-Mental Types-Imagination-Pro- ductive Imagination-Scope of Imagination - Imagination Types - Association - The Association Mass-Association of Objects- Scope of Association-Laws of Association- Interest-Purposive Association-Memory- Conditions of the Process-Selective Mem- ory-Memory Training-Mental Memory- Summary. VI. Attention and Will 93 Underived Attention-Factors of Attention- Interest-Voluntary Attention-Effects of Attention - Dynamic Attention - Derived Will-The Will to Decide-Essence of Will -Volition-Self-assertion-Growth of Will- power-Types of Decision-Definition of Will-Summary. VII. Thought 103 Discrimination - Apperception - Idea - Be- lief-Our Mental Worlds-Tests of Belief- Nature of Thought-The Stream of Thought -Cognition - Intellect - Reason - Reason and Instinct-Coordination-Summary. VIII. Temperament and Character .... 124 Introverts and Extroverts-Stable-minded and Unstable-minded Types-Bodily Conditions- Realizing the Type-Disposition-Temper- Temperament-Glands-Differing Traits- Moods - Character - The Sentiments - Human Types-Varied Types-Rationalistic Types. IX. Personality 142 Personality as a Problem-Functions of Per- sonality - Elements of Personality - The Self - Self-consciousness - Consciousness -Psychical Content - The Larger Self - Summary. Contents XI Part Two PSYCHOLOGY OF THE HIDDEN SELF CHAPTER PAGE X. The Normal and the Abnormal . . . 157 Habit and Conflict-The Abnormal-Sanity and Insanity-Dissociation-Automatisms- Repressions - Instability - Psychical Re- search - The Subliminal Self - Human Nature-The New View-The Original Nature of Man. XI. Suggestion 173 Suggestibility - Definition - Counter-sugges- tion-Suggestion and Behavior-Inhibition -Normal and Abnormal Suggestion - The Limits of Suggestion-Suggestion and Psy- choanalysis-Auto-suggestion-The Effect of Suggestion - Suggestion and Emotion - Merits of Coue's View - Objections - Summary. XII. Psychotherapy 188 The Objective of this Therapy-The Empirical Basis-Psychic Disturbances-The Method- Hypnotism - Re-education - Psychiatry - Neurasthenia-Effects of Fatigue-Subjec- tive Factors-Dubois's Method-Explanation -The Process of Cure-Mind and Brain- Fear and Faith-Worry-Summary. XIII. Psychoanalysis 203 The Source of Inner Conflicts-Levels of Con- sciousness - Complexes - Libido - Freud's Method - Errors - Suppressed Complexes -The Unconscious is Ileal-The Censor- Sex - Libido-fixation - Criticism - Freud's Contributions. XIV. Sleep and Dreams 218 Sleep and the Will - Claparede's View - Dreamless Sleep-Dreams-Dream Content XII Contents CHAPTER PAGE -Dreams as Thoughts-Freud's View-The Manifest Content-Dream Fulfillments-The Infantile Element - Criticism of Freud's View-Anxiety-Conscious and Unconscious -The Purpose of Sleep. XV. The Subconscious 232 Co-consciousness - The Subconscious Self - Psychical Dispositions-The Place of Habit -The Sphere of Consciousness - Interfer- ences-Memory-Neurograms-The Subcon- scious System-Classification - The Secon- dary Self-Rivers's View-Sleep and the U nconscious-Health-S ummary. Part Three VOCATIONAL AND INDUSTRIAL PSYCHOLOGY XVI. Human Engineering 249 The Human Element-Scientific Management- The Transition Period-Personnel Adminis- tration-Human Well Being-The Personnel Department-Gregariousness-Planning. XVII. Employment Management 264 Labor Turnover-The Employment Manager- General Problems - The Human Factor - Test Questions-Judging Character-Ratings and Tests-Behavior as a Clue-Attitudes- Trade Tests-Trade Skill-Job Analysis- Methods of Making the Analysis-Personal Qualities. XVIII. Mental Tests 283 Intelligence Tests-Performance Tests-Group Tests-The Binet Scale-Results of the Tests -General Intelligence-Definitions of Intelli- gence-Mental Levels-Validity of the Tests -Misfits-Mental Levels and Efficiency- Social Adjustment-Judging the Tests-Dif- ficulties-Objections Answered-The Ques- tion of Values-Tests and the Vocations- Summary. Contents XIII CHAPTER PAGE XIX. Mental Efficiency 299 Habit and Efficiency-Human Efficiency-The Psychology of Work - Fatigue - Other Aspects of Fatigue-Mind and Work-Ad- verse Conditions-Personal Efficiency-Wel- fare Work-Physical Conditions-Environ- ment as a Factor-Need for Cooperation- Summary. XX. Vocational Guidance 316 Counseling - Vocational Efficiency - The Methods of a Counselor-Various Factors -Self-knowledge as a Factor-Aptitudes- Dominant Abilities-Intuition-Instinct and Intuition-Insight-Old Methods-Individ- ual Judgments-Moral Qualities-The Ves- tibule School-Factory Work-Selection and Retention-Industrial Education-Difficul- ties in Vocational Guidance. XXI. The Instincts in Industry 334 The Instinct of Workmanship-The Creative Impulse-Industrial Education-Problems of Industrial Education-The Creative Instinct -Craftsmanship-On the Job-Habit and Skill-Invention-Getting an Idea-Sum- mary. XXII. Business Success 346 Getting the Idea-Concentration-Work and Health-The Secret of Success-Suggestion as an Element - Assertion - The Corner Stones - Successful Qualities - The Small Business-Qualifications-Getting a Start- Finding the Business-The Right Attitude- Vision-Ideals-Summary. XXIII. Advertising and Selling 360 Productive Advertising-Reasons for Advertis- ing - Essentials - Advertising Defined - Needs - Attention Values - Old and New Methods of Marketing-Arousing Reactions XIV Contents CHAPTER PAGE -Marketing-Creative Selling-Personality as a Factor-Persuasion and Conviction- The Sale-The Customer-Kitsons's Sum- mary of the Steps-The Customer's Mental State-Good-will and Efficiency-Sizing up the Customer-Meeting Objections-Sugges- tion as a Factor-Sales Management-Fun- damentals. Part Four SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY XXIV. The Social Point of View .... 381 Definition - Sociology - Economics - Un- conscious Motives-Habit and Character- , Ideas and Habits-Social Habits-The Self and Habits-Disposition as a Basis-The Great Society-Cognition and Habit-Man as a Social Being-The Past-Summary. XXV. Mental Evolution and Instinct . . . 399 The Place of Mind-Learning-Reason and Instinct-Moral Conceptions-Social Evolu- tion-Instinctive Behavior-The Herd In- stinct-The Source of Conflict-Influence of the Herd-McDougall's View-The Parental Instinct-The Sentiments-The Social In- stinct-The Drive-Content of the Drive- Volition-Summary. XXVI. Imitation and Suggestion 416 Recognition of Imitation-Criticism-Imitation as a Factor-Suggestion-Imitation-The In- fluence of Imitation-Imitation as Funda- mental-Imitation and Culture-Social Sug- gestion-Intellect and Suggestion-Educat- ing by Suggestion-Constructive Suggestion -Summary. XXVII. Sympathy and Love 429 Origin of Sympathy-The Basis of Sympathy -Definition - Altruism and Sympathy - Contents XV CHAPTER PAGE Charity and Sympathy-Justice and Sym- pathy-The Social Self-Emulation-Love- Types of Love-Self-love-As Personal Atti- tude-The Prevailing Love-The Two Loves -Love is Dynamic. XXVIII. Custom and Tradition 445 Custom-Sources of Custom-Habituation- Familiarity - Conventionality - Imitation -Fashion - Convention - Periodicity - Conformity-Dress-The Sexual Motive- The Determinants-French Styles-Fashion's Mandates - Tradition - Tradition and Cul- ture-Summary. XXIX. Partisanship and Loyalty 460 One-sidedness - Broad-mindedness - Love and Partisanship-Patriotism-Loyalty De- fined-Clans-Problems of Loyalty-The Ethical Definition - Espousing a Cause - Self-realization-Group Will-Moral Inte- gration-Courage-Morale-The Content of Moral e-S ummary. XXX. Group Consciousness 478 Group Minds-Individual Minds-The Collec- tive Soul-Social Relations-The Will of All - McDougall's View - The Organized Group-The Group Spirit-National Groups -The Spiritual Community-Elements of the Crowd-Crowd Behavior-Unconscious Factors-The Egoism of the Crowd-The In- tellectual Element-Revolutionary Elements -Summary. XXXI. Propagandism and Public Opinion . . . 495 Inspired News-Allied Propaganda-The De- vices-Pacifism and Hate-The Utility of Propaganda-Relation to the Crowd Spirit- Socialism-Public Opinion-Common Sense -Sanctity of Public Opinion-Deterrents- As Means of Control - Rationalization - XVI Contents CHAPTER PAGE Our Two Environments-The Element of Fiction-Th6 Triangle of Relations-How We Read-Stereotypes-Codes-Symbols- A Warning-Summary. XXXII. Delinquency and Crime 512 Delinquents-Types of Delinquency-Results of Low Mentality-Degenerate Families- Morality - Causes of Feeble-mindedness - Results of the Tests-Degeneracy-Physical Defects - Sin - Responsibility - Crime - Punishment-Causes of Crime-The Uncon- scious Element-Alternating Personality- Repressions as Causes-Results-Summary. XXXIII. Testimony 528 Story-telling-Expert Testimony-Influence of Suggestion - Perception as a Factor - Other Factors-In Court-The Association Method-The Value of Questions-The Ques- tion of Evidence-Legal Points of View- Divorce. XXXIV. War 541 Race Prejudice - Revolutions - Modern In- stances-Origins of War-Caused by Crowds -Due to Psychical Conflicts-Anger-Non- resistance-War and Conflict-War's Les- sons and Values-War's Patterns-Need for an Equivalent-Pacifism-Why War is not Stopped-Signs of Progress-Summary. Part Five SOCIAL ORGANIZATION XXXV. Social Progress 557 Anthropology-Sociology-Psychic Factors- Social Evolution-Beginnings of Organiza- tion - Socialization and Control - Social Laws-The Social Mind-Social Control- Contents XVII CHAPTER PAGB Social Unity-The Ethical Standard-Test- ing Everybody-Heredity and Progress- Surplus Energy-Will and Thought-Causes of Progress-Poverty-Sacrifice-Summary. XXXVI. Conflicting Groups 576 Radicalism - The Individual and Society - Youth - Rivalry - Elements of Conflict - Commercial Conflict-Family Rivalry-Sec- tarian Conflict-Educational Conflict-Stam- pedes - Panics - Mobs - Strikes - Un- rest-Socialism-Summary. XXXVII. Leadership and the Masses 594 Social Selection - Dictatorship - Intellectual . Leadership-Assemblies-Mass Meetings- Crowd Action-Crowd Problems-Conflict- ing Interests-The Rule of Reason-The Academic Mind - Congregations - Cults - Values-Summary. XXXVIII. Play and Education 611 Theory of Play - Psychological Basis - Play and Behavior-Later Values-Play and the Industries - Games - Amusements - Spon- taneity-The Psychological Tendency-The Psychological Content - Habit-Formation - Education and Behavior - The Learning Process-Problems-Heredity and Education -Mental Tests-Education and Life-Mass Instruction-Summary. XXXIX. Ethics and Psychology 632 The Basis of Ethics-Moral Faculty-Ration- ality-Social Content-Behavior and Con- duct - Moral Unrest - Progress - The Cor- porate Ideal. XL. Social Service and Domestic Life . . . 645 Social Motives-Professional Work-Preach- ing-The Art of Persuasion-Nursing-The Nature of Woman-Historical Evidences- XVIII Contents CHAPTER PAGE Marriage-Marriage and Divorce-Marriage as Adjustment-A Selective Process-The Spiritual Motive. XLI. The Psychology of Religion .... 660 The Place of Experience-Conversion-Defini- tion-The Religious Content-Conflicts- Belief-The Subconscious Element-The Un- conscious Element-Mysticism-The Element of Suggestion-Auto-suggestion and Will- Contemplation-The Favorable Conditions- Reason and Suggestion-Auto-suggestion and Prayer-Doctrine-Christianity-Summary. XLII. Organization of the Self 680 Dualities - Selfishness - Bodily Selfishness - Self-love-Remaking of the Self-Unity of Self - Acquiring Habits - Mental Habits -Overcoming Habits-Overcoming Emotion - Thought - The Two Minds - Will and Understanding-Remaking Human Nature- The Solution - The Unifying Terms - The Conscious Element - Causes of Personal Tendencies-Summary. XLIII. Critical Problems 698 Recapitulation - Mind and Body - Presup- positions - Agnosticism - Over-beliefs - Valuation - Criticism - Pragmatism - Our Opportunities. Index 715 PSYCHOLOGY IN THEORY AND APPLICATION Part One GENERAL PSYCHOLOGY CHAPTER I TYPES OF PSYCHOLOGY Increase of interest in the special sciences is nowhere more strongly marked than in the case of psychology. If the nineteenth century was the age of evolution, the twen- tieth is thus far the age of psychology. For, although it appears to be the century of the social problem, popular as well as scientific thought steadily drives the issue back to the prior question of the mental nature of man. Evo- lution gave a general answer and disclosed a method of inquiry. But recent psychological interests indicate even more direct clues than the mere study of man's original nature in the light of mental evolution. Popular Approaches.-The World War very early gave us the problem of propagandism in its subtlest forms. Then it began to show us anew where we stood in pro- gress toward civilization. Hence it taught that we needed to revise even our scientific psychology, and assign a larger place to elemental impulses, emotions, instincts, and 2 General Psychology the mentality of the herd. The result was an intensifying of the reaction against the old intellectualism. So too the efficiency movement changed from economic to psychological interests, the demand for a real science of human nature, in contrast with time schedules and other schemes for securing as much work from each laborer as possible. The development of intelligence tests in the Army prepared the way for more extensive use of the same methods in the industries. As a general result we have been trying anew to discover what intelligence is, the extent to which tests may be depended upon, and the advantages to be gained in industrial and other education. Interest in suggestion, originally limited to psycho- therapy, has spread into life in general and become a subject to conjure with in relation to the so-called sub- conscious mind. Psychical research has at least enriched our knowledge of the deeper self, even though the issues raised by the study of psychic phenomena are by no means settled. So too psychoanalysis, or Freudism, has afforded a productive clue for investigation, and put us on the track of "repressions" and "complexes" in relation to the unconscious. The newly awakened interests in the problems of the crowd, the mob, and the strike as in- stances of the group mind, lead in the same direction and show the need of an adequate social psychology. Popular thought by no means tells us what "mob psy- chology" is, how far we may intelligently utilize suggestion or the subconscious, but it is on the right track in its em- phasis on the greater human problems which divide and baffle us when we approach them as mere partisans of a class or group. It has started us anew in the quest for motives, the other person's point of view, the real intentions of a nation which resorts to subtle propaganda, the psychic factor in all radical movements and in history as a whole. We have now to determine more definitely whether there really is a "group mind." We realize that we must study man's social nature more profoundly from a psychological point of view, before we subscribe to creeds either denying or affirming that human nature can be changed. The in- Types of Psychology 3 crease of books not listed as psychological but all tending to make prominent the psychic factor, the force and scope of public opinion, the influence of leaders and masses in social conflict, are also a sign. We find no consistent clue, when we follow these popular tendencies and try to unify them. We are no further on, when we note the methods and results of the higher criticism in its emphasis on the tendency to err, the imperfections of texts, the difficulty in finding out what to believe. But we need to bear these tendencies of thought in mind, when we endeavor to de- velop a theory which really explains the nature and elab- oration of mental processes in their interconnections. Applied Psychology.-When the newer psychology began to be applied, the field of education was among the first to be entered, and just now the question of mental tests is the prevailing interest there. To some leaders in psychology, the use of mental tests appears to cover all that is meant by ''applied psychology." But psychology has also been applied in the fields of medicine, law, vo- cational guidance, the industries, religion, the study of feeble-mindedness and criminality, as well as in the field of human culture at large; and psychological principles have indicated anew the way to the practical guidance of life. However we divide psychology as a science of the normal and the abnormal, the individual and the social, each branch of the subject has its applications, and we should avoid limiting the term to our special field. Recent writers have shown the importance of defining the field with reference to fundamental principles and the applica- tion of these principles to daily life.1 If we define psychology as the science of human be- havior, then applied psychology has to do with every situation involving human behavior and the economy of human energy; it bears relation to economics, sociology, ethics, anthropology, social service, social organization, and social movements of all kinds involving theories of human nature and plans for human betterment. Psy- i See, for example, Coleman E. Griffith, General Introduction to Psychology, 1923; and Bernard C. Ewer, Applied Psychology, 1923. 4 General Psychology chology as thus broadly defined does not regard the indi- vidual organism as the limiting interest, to the neglect of social psychology. What we need from the start is the psychological way of regarding, analyzing, explaining any subject-matter whatever, with reference to its ele- ments, motives, the stages of action and their consequences, the essentially human approach. Granted this, there are both individual and social problems to be considered, ques- tions of the industries, war, social evils, the normal and the subnormal; also questions concerning the inner life in contrast with environment. And before we are in a position to apply our psychology as extensively and thor- oughly as possible, there is the question of the type of general psychology to be preferred. Hence the prior need in any case is for a closer coordination of the principles of general psychology. For we find that even the best recent works on the subject are greatly limited by the point of view concerning the mental elements out of which it is proposed to rear the structure of the human mind. The time has passed when any one writer may be followed as guide in the whole field. Hence from the start we should try to bring together the most promising teachings from different points of approach. Intellectualism.-Glancing back to the older psy- chology, we remember that it was chiefly speculative or metaphysical in its initial assumptions, and given over to introspective analysis. If it did not begin with the as- sumption of a self or soul; by postulating three faculties, feeling, thought, and will; it studied the contents of con- sciousness to determine its leading characteristics, its ele- ments, and the combination of mental states in self-con- sciousness and personality. It was often hampered by a still older psychology which regarded the mind as chiefly "intellect." Hence it over-emphasized the study of "thought." The self was regarded as intellect prefers, with little or no reference to instincts or primitive and basic emotions. Our educational system was in large measure based on this psychology which is now a matter of history. We still proceed uncritically to educate the Types of Psychology 5 intellect, as if it were three-fourths of life, without making much of the remarkable change which came over psy- chology when it shifted to the will, the emotions and the instincts. Our religious and other creeds which we defend as traditions were formulated in the spirit of the old rationalism in its most pronounced form. We still try to convert one another by mere argument appealing to "reason" in a eulogistic way, despite what we have learned about the "ruling passion" or "prevailing love." Meanwhile, criticism has been steadily forcing the intellect into the place which it occupies in various current theories of the type of "pragmatism," that is, it is regarded as "instrumental" to mental life as a whole; not as original or prior, as occupying the largest place. Conduct or "life," that which "works" or applies, is verifiable through concrete tests, has become the standard where logical or theoretical consistency attained by mere analysis and "thought" was once the standard. Whether prag- matism or instrumentalism has carried us too far the other way, is a question to bear in mind when we consider the present tendency to reduce thinking to mere habit and carry the mechanistic hypothesis to the limit. The Experimental Method.-When psychology became a natural science, the soul was laid away in the museum of thought, and after a while even the self as a "con- struct" gave place to elements and processes. Psychology was therefore regarded as the science which describes and explains the series of mental states and processes experi- enced during a life-time. As the science became more empirical it became more physiological, and interest cen- tered about "sensation," with the hope that all other apparent mental elements, such as will and thought, could be reduced to it. For a while the text-books were mainly devoted to the functions of the brain and the physiology of the sense-organs. The discussion usually came to an end before anything was said about the higher forms of mental life, and there appeared to be no personality left save as mere body. Hence there was no real demonstra- tion that intellect and will are mere products of sensations 6 General Psychology in their various combinations, no proof that the will is mere "muscle-sense." It was confidently asserted that when we have described sensation and the accompanying affections "there is nothing left" to analyze. But the extremely meager account of mental life which followed was evidence that the assertion was purely arbitrary. It is no wonder that psychologists of this type have declared that psychology has no practical values. It was also as confidently asserted that introspection had "uttered its last word," that experiments with instruments in the laboratory would now take the place of all subjective methods: but to-day we find that the introspective method is still put side by side with other methods in the best text-books.2 Doubts were expressed whether "conscious- ness" even existed. Behaviorists have more recently ex- erted the greatest ingenuity in finding verbal substitutes for everything in the faintest way resembling conscious- ness. Meanwhile, the experimental method has come to occupy its appropriate place, and psycho-physics is known as a mere branch of general psychology, in which one may specialize as he would in a division of any of the sciences. The psychology of the self, or self-psychology, continues to be cultivated even by specialists informed to the limit in the correlation of mental states and brain-states. Com- mon sense reappears every now and then to reassert its claims, in contrast with theoretical attempts to find a sub- stitute for it. The most noteworthy recent instance is in W. McDougall's Outline of Psychology, 1923, in some respects the most valuable work on the subject published for many years. Mental Evolution.-The older psychology neglected both the non-rational and the less conscious elements or phases of mental life. It was a product of idealistic minds, did not take into account what a Hobbes or a Rousseau would have said about man's original nature. With Dar- 2 For the methods, see M. W. Calkins, A First Book in Psychology, 4th rev. ed., 1914, p. 6; R. S. Woodworth, Psychology, A Study of Mental Life, 1921, Chap. I; H. C. Warren, Elements of Human Psychology, 1922, Chap. 1. Types of Psychology 7 win especially began the change in favor of continuity of mental development from the higher animals to man. The coming in of the biological point of view has prepared us for the present emphasis on the instincts, the primitive emotions, and the behavior of the organism as leading clues. Now that we are ready to reconstitute the animal mind in greater fullness, and note its persistence in civil- ized life, we are in a better position to discover in what sense mind has developed in relation to the external world, in the struggle for existence, and as "instrumental" rather than intellectual or intuitive. The reaction to the biological point of view involved a change from self-esteem and prejudice, from what we like and prefer to believe concerning ourselves, to study of actual minds as given in their interaction with environment. In working for- ward to a more securely human point of view we are not now likely to neglect "the original nature of man." We now see that "the age of reason" must be an achievement. It is no longer a presupposition. So too "certainty" is no longer merely intuitive, as if the feeling that a thing is thus-and-so were decisive. Mere consciousness fails to tell us the entire contents of the mind even from a sub- jective point of view. Heredity.-Our increasing biological knowledge seems to give a complete basis for mental life. Heredity means relationship between the organism and its environment, since there can be no result of heredity without environ- ment. This cooperation between heredity and environ- ment, the two being inseparable, means that as there are no two identical heredities or environments, there is al- ways some slight variation in the inheritance determiners. In terms of this "new heredity," as Vernon Kellogg calls the more precise statement of the case, we are prepared for a better understanding of the function of the brain as the basis of mental life. "Over the surface of the cerebral hemispheres of the human brain," says Kellogg, "there is spread a thin superficial layer of nerve cells, blood vessels, and supporting tissue called the cerebral cortex. ... In a just-born child this thin layer of gray 8 General Psychology brain-matter ... is the clean surface on which is to be painted, slowly, in enduring pigments, the influencing pic- tures of nature and human life which the new individual is to carry till death. This picture will largely determine its behavior as child, adult, and adolescent. To the for- mation of this picture all the sense organs will contribute; also, all the inferences based on observations made by the senses. The whole social heritage of the human race will add to the making of this picture, in a degree de- termined by parents, playmates, teachers, and books."8 Here, in Kellogg's view, is the physical basis of memory and intelligence, also the seat of personality. Behaviorism.-Biologists, ever more precise in their terminology, afford so good a description of the behavior of the organism that it appears to be increasingly difficult to justify a distinctively psychological point of view. Ap- parently our whole experience is reducible to the series of "conditioned reflexes" which interaction between the organism and its environment has produced in man, the most highly integrated nervous organism. Some writers, such as Paton,4 who is not a psychologist in the classic sense of the word, undertake to characterize every phase of human life in terms of "behavior," by omitting many of the considerations on which psychology as the science of mental states and elements is founded. Others under- take a reconstruction of psychology from the viewpoint of human behavior, but leave the whole subject in uncer- tainty at the close. In contrast with the psychology which begins with "sensation" as the basic mental element, or with "ideas" and consciousness, behaviorism sharply reacts against the subjective point of view in all its forms, and starts with "behavior" as objectively observed. The first considera- tion is a situation or condition in the environment, ex- ternal to the body, and giving rise to stimuli in the organism. The assumption therefore is that the stimulus is always provided either by the environment or by the 3 Vernon Kellogg, The Atlantic Monthly, Nov.. 1922, p. 588, * S, Paton, Human Behavior, 1921, Types of Psychology 9 movements of muscles, and changes in the secretions or glands. Granted simple and complex actions and changes which call out responses in the organism, psychology as thus conceived is concerned with the study and classifica- tion of man's possibilities of reaction.5 In simplest terms, there is first, movement aroused in the organism, then adjustment in the nervous system, followed by reaction of some sort. Behavior consists of the separate systems of reaction which the individual makes to his environment, the inte- grations and total activity of the individual. There has been a long process of development to the point where the nervous system of man has become "the central integra- tion," that is, the mechanism of adjustment which con- trols all responses of the organism by initiating, inhibit- ing or modifying the reciprocal activities. Human be- havior is a synthesis of the integrations thus acquired. The higher forms of adjustment are synthesized products of different levels of adjustment. By "integration" is meant the collection of nerve impulses in the brain, "the systematic assembling and marshaling of all the impulses which reach the brain at a given moment" (Warren). By "coordination" is meant the systematic distribution of motor impulses, while "adjustment" is the systematic combination of integration and coordination. We are supposed to be able completely to describe and explain the processes which go on in the individual by reference to "integrated perception and coordinated motor impulse." A stimulus is any change in relation between the organ- ism and its environment. The nervous system is a special regulatory mechanism of adjustment for the preservation of physiological balance, the safety of the individual and the preservation of the species. The organism tends to receive and assimilate what is useful, to reject and repel what is injurious, through the coordination and unifica- tion of the defensive forces. The mechanism of adjust- ment tends to harmonize the activities of the individual, 5 See J. B. Watson, Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behav< iorist, 1919. 10 General Psychology and keep it in contact with the environment. All complex activities are based on the coordination and association of impulses. That is, a selective activity is at work sorting out the elements to form integrated series of responses of which the personality is the highest expression (Paton). According to Watson, the total assets of the individual are: (1) the hereditary functions, the socialized and reg- ulated instincts, the socialized and tempered emotions, with the combinations and inter-relations of these, the in- stincts and emotions being hereditary "patter-reactions"; (2) the acquired functions, the total mass of organized habits; (3) retentiveness, the readiness of implanted habits to function after disuse; (4) plasticity, the capability of new habit formation or the altering of old habits.8 That is, man's assets are "that part of the individual's equip- ment which makes for his adjustment and balance in his present environment and for readjustment if the environ- ment changes." This is the "reaction-mass" as a whole. It involves the clean-cut and definite habit-systems and the instincts which have yielded to social control, the emotions w'hich have been tempered by hard knocks. What was formerly called "consciousness" is defined by Paton as a "function of adjustment" or biological ca- pacity to react, produced by a sufficient degree of "cere- bral tonicity. " 7 It is a function of the cortex to fabricate the material supplied by the lower centers, to bring one "sensation" in relation to others. We use the term "personality" when we refer to the reactions, reflexes and volitional responses characteristic of a human being, and the term "character" when we mean those responses judged in relation to conventional situations and customs. Thus the theory of "human behavior" which Paton pro- poses may be regarded as a complete substitute for psy- chology as formerly known. Watson's theory is explicitly put forward as a psychology, and is regarded as the typ- ical expression of behaviorism. The student should be thoroughly familiar with Watson's point of view, and bear it in mind throughout; since it affords a vantage- 6 Op. cit., pp. 348, 397. 7 Op. cit., p. 49. Types of Psychology 11 point for reaction, a means of testing those conceptions of mental life, such as "will," "thought," "conscious- ness," which we may still accept and defend. The merit of this type of psychology is that it is a con- sistent carrying out of the mechanistic hypothesis, it is definite and simple, and can apparently be applied in the industries and other fields without modification. Watson avoids the use of subjective terms, and describes even thinking itself as an instance of "implicit habit re- sponses" or "conditioned reflexes." Thought is said to be a kind of "speech habit" in which the main point of interest is the position of the speech organs. Introspec- tion is said to give a "verbal report" of the phenomena formerly accounted for by reference to consciousness. In- stead of experiencing a "consciousness of white," the organism is said to "react to" a white object. Watson believes it possible to describe in his terms whatever was once interpreted less directly in terms of "sensations," "ideas," and "volitions." Objections.-It has been objected that apparent con- sistency has been gained for behaviorism by over-simpli- fication and evasiveness. The term between stimulus and response has been omitted. Behaviorists refer to the or- ganism as "apprehending" objects external to itself. They talk about the behavior of the organism as "aware" of stimuli, without giving any account of this something which becomes "aware." Warren has pointed out that this narrowness of scope in trying to rule the data of consciousness out of science altogether is not justifiable, and that self-observation is more useful than the mere study of behavior. He suggests that if a term other than "consciousness" is to be employed the appropriate term is "experience." We may then refer to "experience" as the concrete fact, and substitute "content of an experi- ence" for "content of consciousness." We then have the question of awareness on our hands, with reference to the generation of data through perceptual or other experience, and the occurrence of certain objects of experience in rela- tion to cortical states. The least we can say is that aware- 12 General Psychology ness is the experience of the individual in ' ' living through certain occurrences" in the brain centers. On the sub- jective side the individual regards certain integrative proc- esses as his own perceptions and thoughts; they are at least neural-personal events.8 Although we may follow behaviorism part way in its description of one aspect of experience, we find that, un- masked, it is materialism once more, with its assertion that the body itself has the capacity to feel, to think, and act, as if there were nothing real in the process of experiencing or "living through" our contacts with the world. The stream of thought or consciousness is entirely absorbed into the series of neural impulses which are said to regu- late conduct, mental attitudes have become so many aspects of the central processes of adjustment in the nervous system, while character has no real place in the struggles and values of experience. The next step would be to reject psychology altogether and substitute the finer anal- yses of physics and chemistry. The implied assumption is that muscles and glands are executive organs, that all human action is in reality reflex action, and that memory and habit with all the processes dependent on them are solely matters of the establishment of "conditioned reflexes." It is highly important to see precisely what behaviorism leads to, for we then understand why some have already leaped to the conclusion that "glands regulate personality." To adopt this conclusion would be to hold, for example, that egoism is due to an excessive product of the thyroid gland; hence that it is removed from the sphere of what was formerly known as self-control. In the end "consciousness" would come to be regarded as a mere phenomenon of "intro- version" or impeded personality. Affection, as a recent critic has put the matter, would be reduced to "the tumes- cence and shrinkage of the reproductive organs in con- junction with changes in the quantity of the secretions." Reconstruction.-As inadequate as behaviorism may seem, when it is a question of the "real mind" which we 8 Philosophical Review, Nov., 1922, p. 603. Types of Psychology 13 all know, it has afforded psychologists a fresh point of re- action ; and behaviorism is assimilated in part, notably by those who define psychology as "the science of be- havior," meaning by "behavior" the activities of the organism by which the activities of the mind are known by inference. Consciousness is then described as the immediate antecedent and condition of behavior. Psy- chologists who raise serious objection to behaviorism, still keep close to the biological point of view. If we try to reinterpret the psychology of William James by regarding him as a pioneer behaviorist, we find his psychology intelligible in a new way. From any point of view man's behavior is symbolical. What is to be avoided is the assumption that behavior as attribut- able to the central adjustments of the nervous system is all the reality there is in human conduct, for this assumption limits our view of such conduct from first to last. The real problem, granted the intelligibility of be- haviorism as far as its descriptions and explanations are applicable, is to define and develop accurately the inner life to which behavior corresponds, the conduct which implies the existence of a self or subject, knowing, striving, feeling, willing, reflecting upon life's realities. The Drive.-Wood worth's suggestion is that we should follow neither introspectionists nor behaviorists, for "neither consciousness nor behavior provides a coherent system of processes for casual treatment. ' '9 Conscious- ness fails us because much of the process partly disclosed takes place below the threshold of consciousness. Behavior- ism fails us because, when behavior is regarded as a series of motor reactions to external stimuli, it proves incoherent by omitting the intervening process between the stimulus and the reaction. Woodworth does not, like Warren, in- troduce "experience" as the middle term; but defines and develops the "dynamic" point of view, working toward a clearer account of the mental side of vital action. We then have as our chief problems (1) the question of 9 A. 8. Woodworth, Dynamic Psychology, 1918, Chap. I. 14 General Psychology mechanism: how we do a thing, with a mechanism already aroused; and (2) the question of the "drive": what in- duces us to do it. There is, for example, a "drive" apart from hunger, sex, curiosity, self-assertion. "Human in- terests keep pace with human capacities." The factors of selection and control are not accounted for by the mere mechanism. "A man carries around with him a vast as- sortment of possibilities of action." This "dynamic psychology" affords a basis for assimi- lating the fundamental data emphasized by recent psy- chologists of various types. On the biological side it sug- gests the life-impulse which appears to have been prior to all mental evolution. On the mental side it is related to the central activity which operates in consciousness, in the psychical integrations which imply instinct, emotion, desire, volition, productive thought, inner experience in its creative aspects. The popular term just now is "urge," in the sense of both "pep" and creative striving. The psychoanalysts have also directed investigation anew to the original energy underlying primitive instincts and emotions expressing itself as libido (Freud, Jung), which especially includes the sexual instinct, with its emotions and desires, and is concerned in the repressions and com- plexes which in turn imply the "unconscious." Recent emphasis on man's native equipment, by calling greater attention to the instincts, has also emphasized the im- pulses and emotions which express them, also habit as the later representative of our original reactions. Some writers have postulated an original undifferentiated psychic energy in emotional form (Putnam). In such a case a "drive" would be necessary to account for the differentiations of this energy. This view commends itself to partisans of the elan vital (vital energy in original form) popularized by Bergson, who has sought to dis- tinguish instinct from intelligence in favor of "intuition," which, according to Bergson, might have developed so as to give creative evolution a different direction. This widespread testimony apparently points to the need of the "drive" as the great unifying term. We shall find Types of Psychology 15 reason to keep this term and its equivalents in view throughout. Purpose.-The resource in any event is to develop both the facts of experience, or mental life, and the facts of behavior side by side, giving attention to both pro- cesses and structure. We are concerned with the modes of individual experience in its entirety, without surrender to a mechanical point of view, and without evasiveness in terminology. We are free to use the term ''mind" as not identical with the brain or nervous system. We are still at liberty to use the term "self," since experience is perceived, thought about, reacted upon with reference to reality, meanings, worths, values, through actual conduct. Hence we may develop the implications of "conduct" as contrasted with mere behavior, remembering that psy- chology can never be complete unless it supplies an ade- quate basis for the descriptive side of ethics, religion, society in organized forms. What conduct means in relation to "purpose" is to be one of the main interests in our inquiry. To sacrifice the facts of experience as we know it when we pursue ends, work for the conservation of values, to realize ideals, and maintain standards, would be to succumb to behaviorism. At the point where behaviorism breaks down, when its terminology becomes evasive, when it fails to account for "awareness" and the other elements of the "something" which apprehends external objects by means of experience, our investigation passes over to the stream of conscious- ness, more faithfully described by William James than by any other writer. This need not mean a return to sub- jectivism in the sense in which it has recently been pro- tested against, but it should at least stand for recognition of the highest unifying term of the inner life, namely, purpose, as signifying even more than the term "drive," and leaving room for a broader conception of our total environment, our moral and spiritual situation in the universe. The term "purpose" is to be re- garded as covering the whole field, from the first impli- cations of a striving toward an end in the behavior 16 General Psychology of the organism to the highest responsiveness of the self in its effort to know the universe, to contribute to so- ciety, serve humanity. This term also includes the emphasis on the will which is characteristic of the pro- founder works on psychology, and leaves room for the higher activities of intellect or reason. It implies recog- nition of the biological facts which have contributed so much to psychology. In fact, it is from the biological side that the greater light has been thrown on the successive stages of mental evolution in terms of purpose. The idea of a "drive," regarded as fundamental to all our instincts and habits, does not give full expression to these wealthy facts, unless we introduce the conception of "purpose" as the essence of the activity which is known in another aspect as "drive." Habit as expressive of mechanism is an instrument only, not the source of the drive (McDougall). In the terminology which James has made so familiar, habit and the behavior of the organism in general are approaches, but the significant consider- ation is that "minds inhabit environments which act on them, and on which they in turn react." The mind should then be described and explained "in the midst of all its concrete relations." For, as James insists throughout, 1 e the pursuance of future ends and the choice of means for their attainment are thus the mark and criterion of the presence of mentality."10 Consciousness is not only a "selective agency," but as a "fighter for ends" is really efficacious. Summary.-Contemporary thought discloses marked interest in the psychic factor in all phases of life, in the human element, the original nature of man, too greatly neglected in our essentially intellectual education. There is new interest in the instincts and emotions, in group con- sciousness, subtle or unconscious influences. Psychology is becoming more practical, and is applicable in every field of human endeavor. But there are various types of theory and different conceptions regarding applied psy- chology. The reaction against intellectualism is likely to io Principles of Psychology, 1890, Vol. I, pp. 6, 8. Types of Psychology 17 carry our thought too far in the direction of a mechanical philosophy, as if the mind were a mere product of the brain and nervous system, devoid of real thought and volition. While recognizing that mental life has assumed its form through ages of evolution, is knowable in part by inference from the behavior of the organism; we are primarily concerned with the inner life, in "conduct" in contrast with behavior. But behaviorism is exceedingly acute in analysis of central adjustments, in fostering the hypothesis that "conditioned reflexes" explain mental life. There is reason to be equally acute in developing a con- ception of the term intervening between stimulus and response-"awareness," "experience," the activities of the self which "lives through" the processes of sensation, affection, conation, volition, thought. The idea of the "drive" supplies this need in part, since emphasis belongs on the dynamic factors of mental life. There appears to be an original impetus of life in habit. But the same is true of emotions and instincts. Habits imply an end which they serve in the life of the organism. There is selective activity in process in the development of the instincts and their allied emotions: "purpose" brings to- gether in a single principle the implications of both the drive and the end which it pursues. This conception will give us a view of the instincts as springs of energy (Mc- Dougall), a view of the behavior of the natural man; and a theory of the whole field of mental life with its various elements and phases, including attention and interest, imagination, temperament, character, intellect, will; as well as a basis for social psychology, and an opportunity for reconstructing the data of mental life. REFERENCES I. General Psychology James, W., Psychology: Briefer Course, 1892 (condensations of Principles of Psychology). Angell, J. R., Psychology, 1908, revised ed.; Introduction to Psychology, 1918. Hunter, W. S., General Psychology, revised ed., 1923, Part. I, 18 Genera I Psychology Breese, B. B., Psychology, 1917 (bibliography). Griffith, C. R., General Introduction to Psychology, 1923 (ref- erences). Warren, H. C., Human Psychology, 1919. Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, 1914, 4th revised ed. (bibliography of self-psychology, p. 282). Robinson, E. S., and Richardson-Robinson, Florence, Read- ings in General Psychology, 1923, Chaps. I, II. II. Behaviorism Watson, J. B., Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behaviorist, 1919. Roback, A. A., Behaviorism and Psychology, 1923 (criticism, complete bibliography of behaviorism). Paton, S., Human Behavior, 1921, Chaps. I-IV. Moore, J. S., The Foundations of Psychology, 1921, Chap. I. (mentalism opposed to behaviorism). III. For Special Study Seashore, C. E., Introduction to Psychology, 1923, Chap. I. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, 1918, Chap. I. Warren, H. C., Elements of Human Psychology, 1922, Chap. I. James, W., Principles of Psychology, 1890, Vol. I, Chaps. I, VII. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, 1923, Chaps. I, II. CHAPTER II ELEMENTARY PRINCIPLES Psychology begins with experience as presentation and works back analytically to reconstitute the elements of mental life, and forward to trace the development of men- tality from simple to complex. It is difficult to undertake a description of psychical activity as presentation, because the analysis takes place after the activity is experienced. The elements singled out as original and classified as "sensation" are not perceived in their singleness. Any description presupposes an explanatory point of view. An infant might conceivably have a pure experience of "red" or "green," of warmth, pain, light or darkness; but even for an infant there would be a context of confusion in which "pure sensation" would not be given in its dis- tinctness. If we start with sensations regarded as giving information that a world exists outside of us, that it has form, color; displays heat, light; yields odors, sounds, and all the rest, it does not by any means prove a simple mat- ter to give an account not only of cognition but all other phases of inner experience. To begin with "habit" re- garded as prior to cognition, is presently to be driven farther back in quest of its origin. Some psychologists begin their analysis of perceptual experience with a study of attention, because we are mentally occupied with some presentation of the senses; but prior problems forthwith arise concerning attention. McDougall starts with the proposition that every conscious event is at once a know- ing, a being affected, and a striving; that is, a cognition, an affection, and a conation.1 On this broad basis it seems possible to rear the whole structure of inner experience. Beginning with psycho-physical activity at large, there- i Psychology, Home University Series, 1912, p. 61. 19 20 General Psychology fore, we begin to analyze its content, remembering that its wealth is very great, its implications many, in fact, almost baffling, so that the descriptions offered by one psychologist of the "original undifferentiated energy," the "given manifold," or "motor-continuum" in which diverse elements are discovered, are so unlike those made by another that we wonder whether both are describing the same mind. The implied vital energy is inseparable from the native elements which constitute the richness of sense-experience. On the outside there is behavior and the conditions which determine it, with the nervous struc- ture which shows itself in the various functions; the sense- organs, the nervous system, the brain, with its integrations, coordinations, and centralizing adjustments. On the in- side, there is perceptual experience with its characteristic impulses, responses, recognitions, implying the instincts and their immanent energies, the laws of habit, associa- tion, attention, interest, emotion. The resource is to plunge in, select some of the simpler processes for analysis, always remembering that we are making abstractions, that sense-life as we each know it from within, by the immedi- acies of what we vaguely call "feeling," is infinitely rich. Mind and Brain.-Mental processes in intimate rela- tion with a brain are always presupposed. This relation- ship might be regarded as an instance of automatism on the mental side. The series of events in the brain, for instance, a sequence of excitations known by sensation as sounds, would then be causes of the sensations, and the mind, passive, merely recipient, would be an epi-phenome- non, entirely without efficacy.2 Or cerebral events and mental processes might be conceived as parallel, in corre- spondence state by state, yet without interaction.3 Again, it might be said that mind and brain interchange activi- ties, that mental states cause changes in the cerebral series of events; and that in turn cerebral events produce mental 2 See arguments against this view by James, Principles of Psy- chology, Vol. I. Chap. V. 3 This view is pleaded for by C. A. Strong, Why the Mind has a Body, 1903, Chap. VII. Elementary Principles 21 changes. This is the common-sense point of view which we all assume in daily life. James adopts it, and regards mental life as being what we really take it to be. We shall adopt this view. Strong has examined all three views in an admirable way. The significant fact in any case is usually said to be this: every psychosis or single pulse of mental life is accompanied by a brain-state or event (neurosis). This amounts to saying that the mind is con- ditioned or determined by the brain. Hence James and other psychologists devote explanatory chapters to the functions of the brain, and the student is expected to bear constantly in mind this fixed relationship. Psychologists who believe in the action of the mind on the body speak part of the time as if they disbelieved it. It is no less important then to remember that sheer determinism would mean behaviorism. What is really meant by the term "condition" is that mental processes are Ziwfed by the mind's relation to the brain. The term "psycho-physical activity" will be used with the understanding that brain energies and mental activities function together. James says: "The brain is an instrument of possibilities, but of no certainties." Reactions.-Presupposing the changes in environment, the movements in objects round about us which supply us with events, such as the waving of the trees, the swift passage of a bird across our horizon, the disturbance pro- duced by a sudden or unexpected sound, we note that re- actions occur in response to a stimulus, for example, a motor response to a muscular movement. "Ready, set, go! " we exclaim to the runner, alert, prepared for a given signal which gives him the cue for a certain mode of action decided upon in advance, a line of action acquired through much training and implying a long development from simple to complex reactions. We note simple reflex action in the case of the winking of the eye when an object is suddenly brought near it-a useful or protective reaction. In the case of the runner there is a conscious or voluntary aspect: the runner pays highly alert atten- tion, and when the signal is given starts to run. In the 22 General Psychology reflex there is a regular and permanent relation between stimulus and response, inherent in the reflex, which takes place automatically or involuntarily. The reflex or automatic reactions, such as the beating of the heart or winking, appear to be purely physiological, as instances of simple response to a stimulus; while some reactions are uncoordinated or random movements. When the development is traced by analysis of the given motor- continuum in simplest form, through sensori-motor or semi-reflex activities and instinctive reactions, complex reactions implying previous organization, to reactions which have their sources in the motor centeiis rather than in external stimuli and are related to volition, it is easy to neglect the psychical correlates unless we bear in mind the fact that voluntary activity has had its evolution. The orderliness of the nervous system implied in the permanent and regular relation between stimulus and re- sponse is due to heredity. ' ' The sensory and motor centers are placed in very definite relations to one another. From the very beginning certain sensory paths are closely con- nected with certain motor paths, so that stimuli which affect a given receptor are bound to bring about certain definite responses. If an infant's palm is touched with a stick he grasps it; if a milk bottle is put to his mouth his lips close around it; certain stimuli produce coughing, others produce sneezing. These are immediate responses . . . due to an inherited arrangement of the nerve paths. ' '4 The reflex or reflex action is the simplest form of response in creatures possessing a nervous system.5 Its characteristic is that it is definite, not diffuse; it accom- plishes something: swallowing assists the nourishment process, weeping may remove a cinder from the eye. The simplest reflexes, functionally linked, naturally succeed one another and become a chain-reflex. The question is, Can all behavior be explained by these reflexes? Warren traces the reactions by reference to the reflexes; the auto- 4 Warren, Elements of Human Psychology, p. 226. 5 For table of human reflexes, see Warren, op. cit., p. 233; for the physiological basis, see Woodworth, Psychology, p. 26, foil. Elementary Principles 23 nomic functions (the chains of reflexes which govern the life processes) ; instinctive behavior (due to successions of cerebrospinal reflexes in which one response provides the stimulus for the next) ; and intelligent behavior, or the series of useful movements whose connection is not based on heredity, but is acquired by the individual. McDougall calls attention to several distinct differences between the reflexes and behavior. The reflex (1) lacks the spontaneity of behavior; (2) lacks its persistency; (3) is stereotyped or fixed; (4) reflexes do not appear to seek a goal; (5) reflex action does not show preparation for the common situation (that will result from the action) which in be- havior suggests anticipation of that future situation; (6) reflex processes are not improved by repetition, as the movements of behavior are: the same stimulus applied again and again, under the same conditions, repeatedly evokes the same movements of train of movements.6 Behavior.-What then are the marks of behavior, ac- cording to McDougall's analysis, based on a study of animal life? (1) A certain spontaneity of movement (an animal is able actively to resist a push or pull) ; (2) the persistence of activity independently of the continuance of the impression which may have originated it; (3) vari- ation of direction of persistent movements (the successive movements of an animal are not predictable in detail) ; (4) the coming to an end of the animal's movements as soon as they have brought about a particular kind of change in its situation; (4) preparation for the new situa- tion toward the production of which the action contrib- utes; (5) some degree of improvement in the effectiveness of behavior, when it is repeated by the animal under similar circumstances, for example, the attaining of the goal more rapidly, directly, neatly, with fewer steps and less of seemingly random movement; (6) behavior is purposive: purposive action is a total reaction of the or- ganism.7 When the actions of a human being manifest the first five marks of behavior as indicated above, we do not hesitate to infer that the behavior is made for the 6 Outline of Psychology, p. 53. t Ihid., pp. 47, 51. 24 General Psychology sake of attaining the desired end, more or less clearly an- ticipated as the goal of endeavor. While the reflex action is always a partial reaction, the whole individual reacts in the case of purposive action; the various processes are subordinated and adjusted to promote better pursuit of the goal. Looking at the various marks of behavior in relation, we note that there is a scale of degrees of pur- posiveness. Purposiveness thus regarded proves to be "of the essence of mental activity." 8 It is, therefore, be- cause all actions which have these marks appear to be purposive that they are regarded as "expressions of Mind." Hence we conclude that "purposive action is the most fundamental category of psychology." Purpose as thus used includes the vital impulse or will-to-live known psychologically as "conation," the process in a train of conscious activities which is dominated by a "drive." In animals the urge is unconscious. In the life of man it becomes conscious, and rises from the level of impulse to that of clear-eyed desire, and eventually from the level of desire seeking an immediate good to that of will fixed upon a distant and perhaps ideal goal. Sensation.-This emphasis on the dynamic element of mental reactions or responses has prepared the way so that we may look back to the familiar starting-point in older psychologies and note the difference between "sensation" as once regarded and sensation as it appears in a dynamic context. Sensation, defined as "a first thing in the way of experience," was formerly regarded as an entity such that sensations were supposed to combine mechanically to produce "knowledge," as if the mind in receiving im- pressions played no part in the production of sense-experi- ence, as if sensations automatically assembled to form "ideas" much as atoms are said to combine. It was natural to assign sensation to this important position; for plainly a sensation is an ultimate or simple fact-a sen- sation of "red" is just itself, unlike a sensation of "green" or "blue." The same is true of a long list of sensations with their properties. The main point is that 8 Ibid., p. 49. Elementary Principles 25 a sensation appeared to be an entity in the static sense of the word. It was necessary, of course, to develop a theory of the association of sensations in order to account for perception, explain cognition, and all other phases of mental life. An "idea," like a sensation, was also taken to be static; there was little or nothing said about the efficiency which caused ideas to associate to form concep- tions and lead to reasoning. Properties and Classification.-However we under- stand the term "sensation," analysis discloses a remark- able series of properties and facts. Psychologists still differ concerning the properties.9 But adopting for the time being the list given by Angell, we find that sensations are said to differ in (1) quality, which distinguishes a sensation from all others, for example, a sensation of "red" in contrast with a sensation of "green," of light, sound, or odor; (2) intensity, the sensation is strong or weak; (3) extensity, it spreads over a lesser or greater portion of space; (4) duration, it lasts a shorter or longer period of time. Other psychologists distinguish what they call the vividness or clearness, the value or tone of sen- sations. Sensations are also classified as (1) sensations of the special senses (external stimulus), visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, and cutaneous; and (2) organic (in- ternal stimulus), muscular, tendinous, articular, from the alimentary canal, circulatory, respiratory, sexual, static.10 Warren's classification is, (1) external, distant and con- tiguous; (2) systemic, that is, organic, pain; (3) motor, (kinesthetic and static).11 Still further, sensations may be classed with reference to (1) sense organ; (2) stimulus; (3) mode; (4) number of qualities.12 The result is an astonishing number of sensations of light and sound, as- tonishing to those who have thought of sensation uncrit- ically as it seems to appear in ordinary presentation. It is a simple matter to infer that sensation on the whole 9 For classifications, see R. M. Yerkes, Introduction to Psychology, 1911, p. 104; C. E. Seashore, Introduction to Psychology, p. 11. 10 Yerkes, Introduction, p. 95. 11 Elements, p. 58. 12 Ibid., p. 99. 26 General Psychology is a question of scientific information, hence that one de- parts further and further from sensation as "given." Apparently, we know extremely little about sensation from experience. Knowledge of the properties and of the numbers of possible sensations corresponding to light and air vibrations, and other phenomena described by physics, enables us to abstract and objectify till we have "sensa- tion" in general. Furthermore, detailed knowledge of the various sense-organs is now required, although the requi- site information is given in briefer compass by later writers.13 Sensations as Signs.-It is difficult for the most careful writers on the subject to avoid confusion between physi- ological and psychological facts, when they try once more to connect sensation with sense-experience as verifiably known. Wood worth describes sensation as meaning "the activity of the receiving organ (or sense organ), of the sensory nerves, and of certain parts of the brain, called the sensory centers. . . . Sensation may be called the first response of the brain to the external stimulus."14 This statement appears to remove sensation altogether from experience, since no one cognizes a mere impression on the brain. Yet Wood worth also says that sensation as re- sponse "does not come to us," but is "our own act, aroused by the stimulus." This suggests that sensation is not impression on the brain, but by implication is present in perception as essentially mental. This brings us back to the dynamic point of view. McDougall's cautious state- ment is that "experiencing is an activity of some being or subject who experiences something or somewhat."15 We do not as yet say what the percipient experiences. The sensory qualities disclosed by analysis are "signs" of objects existing outside the body, such as trees, houses. We infer that sensation corresponds to brain-impression, although neither is experienced as such. 13 For the requisite knowledge of the brain and nervous system in relation to sensation, consult Woodworth, Chap. X; Warren, Chaps. II-V; W. B. Pillsbury, The Fundamentals of Psychology, rev. ed., 1922, Chap. XVI. Op. cit., p. 187. 15 Outline, p. 221. Elementary Principles 27 McDougall calls particular attention to the fact that, having noted the existence of sensory qualities which "normally and primitively serve merely as signs of ob- jects, guiding us in our discriminations and recognitions," we thereupon make any one of these qualities an object of thought, just as we reflect upon our desires or emotions. We forthwith confuse the sensory quality with the object of which it is a sign, as if it were identical with it; we even speak of the thing outside of us there in space as if it were a conjunction of sensory experiences known as "sensations."16 Thus the moon is identified with an "extensive sensation of yellow quality," as if the world consisted of patches of sensation. Hence the problem arises whether sensations are "in my mind" or out there in space; whereas the sensory quality of experience is plainly not the physical object itself: "it is a sign of the presence of the object, a sign which may suggest it to the mind, or may set us thinking of it." If then, avoiding the usual confusions, we start with the fact of streams of energy pouring in upon us from material things around us in space, we have as our next series of facts the exist- ence of sense-organs (receptors), each of which is "spe- cially adapted to receive some one kind of energy, and to concentrate it effectively upon the tips of the sensory nerves within it, while shielding them from the incidence of other forms of energy. ' '17 That is, our sense-organs are "instruments of selection" among the various streams of energy which play upon the organism. So far it is not yet a question of sensation, but of the physiology of the sense-organs. We meet sensation when we consider our sensitivity, with its instinctive tendencies which are re- leased or set into action by the incoming activity due to the sense-impression. In sensation, activity meets activity. The relationship is dynamic. Through it we come to know the bare immediate natures of objects around us in space and time.18 Ibid., p. 225. Ibid., p. 222. is For study of the types of sensation, see Seashore, op. cit., Chaps. III-VIII. 28 General Psychology Perception.-We must also avoid confusions based on the old terminology, if we would distinguish perception from other aspects of mental life. Apparently perception is a mere sense-complex, due to the storing up of sensa- tions or their intellectual equivalents, "ideas." Again, we use "perception" uncritically when we say that we perceive a pain or perceive the truth. But if, with War- ren, we define perception as "experiences due to direct impressions from the external senses, " 19 we would then say that we feel what takes place within the body, we believe the truth of propositions, but perceive objects around us. More specifically, Warren defines perception as "the grouping together of various external sensations in a single united experience," for example, of this book: the combining process is perception, the experience is a perception. Warren holds that our perceptions cor- respond very closely to the objects which cause them; hence he proceeds to the discussion of discrimination, the perception of surfaces, of depths, of objects as wholes, and of time and events. There are certain errors in percep- tion due to defects in our sense-organs. Our perceptions of the world about us are not exactly like the real world, since we are limited to the material which our receptors take in; habit is an influential factor, and illusions enter in. It is noteworthy that we have a general tendency to "project a sensation as far out from the body toward the source as the data warrant."20 The most important process in sensation is in fact to get the spatial relations of things to one another (surface) and to our body (depth or projection). The composition of sensations, the focus- ing (attention to parts), the revival of memory elements, and discrimination suffice to yield perceptions which dis- close the reality of things as they are. Perceptual Patterns.-Turning to McDougall, we find perception more briefly defined as a "relating synthetic activity," and as "the application of past experience to the guidance of present action [by instinct]," 21 or intel- 10 Op. cit., p. 143. 20 Hid., p. 160. 2i Outline, pp. 76, 85. Elementary Principles 29 ligent behavior; and this account brings us once more to the dynamic aspect, in relation to the streams of energy which are poured upon the organism. According to this view, physical things present patterns of three kinds, on which recognition is based.22 (1) Qualitative patterns are due to the fact that things transmit to us a physically complex impression, each constituent of which is capable of exciting a correspondingly simple sensory experience, for example, when a bell is struck, with the resulting com- plex vibration: we become aware of this complexity only when we adopt the introspective attitude and make the quality of experience the direct object of thought. (2) Temporal patterns are due to successive phases of sensory experience-not the putting together of separately exist- ing entities called "sensations"-for example, when the cry "Cuck-coo" suggests to the mind the bird of that name. (3) Spatial patterns, due to the fact that two or more sense-impressions, affecting different parts of our sensory surfaces, can be distinguished as locally separate or distinct. The nature of mental activity is to progress from the present toward the future, anticipating the coming changes: our minds are adapted to a constantly changing world. Space Perception.-The result of a careful review of the various theories of space perception must be the recog- nition of the face that spatial perception is an extremely complex function, the capacity for which is laid down in our innate constitution, its spontaneous development during the life of the individual being promoted, fur- thered, refined by exercise; while our recognition of spatial qualities of things, their position, distance, size, shape, and pattern is the achievement of our mental activity. The significant fact is that the mind is active in perception, supplies from its own resources something very essential, over and above the sensory qualities with which it re- sponds to sense stimulations. The "compounding of sen- sations together" is not sufficient to yield our perceptions, even when we endow them with "extensity" or describe 22 See p. 227, foil. 30 General Psychology them as "extensive wholes." McDougall accordingly concludes that the simplest mind we can rightfully con- ceive is one which would respond to a sense-impression by "an act of knowing," a becoming aware of something there, an object in space.23 That is, although of the simplest possible structure, this mind would at least con- sist of "one cognitive disposition" linked with "a single conative disposition." Combined with the simple aware- ness of something there, a vague undirected impulse of appetition or of striving toward the object, would exist. It is a fundamental characteristic of our nature then that whatever we may think of, we tend to think it as a thing somewhere in space. This is the primordial way of think- ing, in response to the primordial "something" with which perceptual experience conceivably began. "All the wealth of things that we learn to perceive and recognize has been differentiated out of this primordial something, by suc- cessive discriminations between classes of objects previ- ously indistinguishable. Each new discrimination has involved a further differentiation of the cognitive struc- ture of the mind, the whole structure growing like a tree.24 Instinct.-What is the "innate constitution" of the mind, without which experience would be impossible ? For recent psychology of various types the primary term is "instinct." In terms of behaviorism, instinct is "a pat- tern-reaction," including emotion; the organism is built to react in emotional ways. It is "a combination of con- genital responses unfolding serially under appropriate stimulation. ' '25 Each element in the pattern is conceiv- ably a reflex. But it is difficult in the case of man to detect the rudiments of the instincts since the organism is overlaid by habits long before it is in a situation to 23 Ibid., p. 260. 24 The student should become acquainted with the facts concerning characteristic illusions. See James, Principles, Vol. II, p. 85; Warren, pp. 144, 198; Woodworth, p. 450; Seashore, p. 110. For relation of perception to testimony and the law, see below, Chap. XXXIV. 25 Watson, op. cit., p. 231. Elementary Principles 31 exercise such integrations. The genetic study of instincts discloses, however, some of the more primitive forms, for example, sneezing, hiccoughing, yawning, and crying, in the first hours of an infant's life. The final group of in- stincts, connected with the sex acts, appears at puberty and continues indefinitely; while many of the instincts show a waxing or developmental stage which may be short or extend over some time. The sex instinct illustrates the periodical or cyclical character of instincts, and is about the only example we have in man of this cyclical char- acter. There is indeed a lack of pattern instincts in man. Man excels in his habit-forming capacities, instead; and most of the instincts included in the usual lists, such as acquisition and possession, hunting, collecting and hoard- ing, habitation, migration, fighting, and the maternal in- stincts, together with gregariousness and other so-called social instincts, are more strictly speaking consolidations of instinct and habit.26 In certain of these combinations, such as manipulation, the original activities predominate; in others, for instance, adornment, hunting, habitation, the pattern as a whole is largely composed of habit ele- ments. The principal role of all instinctive activity is to initiate the process of learning.27 For psychologists in general instinct is native or un- learned behavior, while "an instinct" is a unit of such behavior. In Woodworth's terms an instinct is not an ancestral habit, and is not necessarily useful.28 As a native reaction, a reflex is much simpler than the typical instinct; it is a prompt reaction, occurs at once and is done with: instinct operates with a persisting "tendency," set up by a given stimulus, and directed towards a result which cannot be instantly accomplished. Instinct, then, is rather an inner adjustment or tendency to reaction than just a reaction, in the case, for instance, of the nesting instinct of birds. "A fully organized instinct is one where the necessary preparatory reactions are linked up 26 Ibid., pp. 236, 252, 261. 27 See James on special human instincts, Principles, Vol. II, p. 403. 28 Psychology, Chap. VI. 32 General Psychology closely with the main reaction-tendency, so that, once the main tendency is aroused to activity, the preparatory re- actions follow with great sureness. "29 It is not yet proved that all instincts have survival value, hence it is by no means clear that all instincts can be reduced to the so-called instincts of self-preservation and of repro- duction. Instinctive Dispositions.-Drever assigns a larger meaning to the term, and defines instinct as "an innate impelling force guiding cognition, accompanied by interest or emotion, and at least partly determining action. ' '30 This agrees with McDougall's view, by identifying instinct with the life-impulse, discovered by analyzing experience as a whole and finding three elements in it: perception, or cognition of an object; conscious impulse in relation to that object; and a feeling element correlated with it. Ex- perience at any moment is determined partly by the nature of the object, and partly by the need of the individual expressing itself as impulse with its correlated feeling. While not itself determined by past experience, the con- scious impulse is determined in experience, and it de- termines the experience of the moment. Instinct in brief is the "life-impulse" becoming deterininately conscious. Drever docs not put instinct and intelligence in oppo- sition, but holds that the potency of experience will vary with the degree of intelligence, that is, with the degree of "psychical integration," (corresponding to Sherring- ton's term, "cerebral integration"). "The primary psy- chical integration is the integration of instinct and sensa- tion, and sensation is the rudimentary and fundamental experience of a determinate conscious impulse, defined by a perceived situation or object, and correlated with a feel- ing. ' '81 Instinct and Experience.-It is as experience that in- stinct claims attention. The popular notion that instinct involves a mysterious kind of innate knowledge is rejected w Ibid., p. 112. 30 J. Drover, Instinct in Man, 1917, Chaps. I, IV. 31 Op. cit., p. 89. Elementary Principles 33 by psychologists. In tracing the evolution of mental life, Hobhouse entirely dispenses with the view that instinct is "the mysteriously unerring guide that tradition has made it."32 It is not invariably perfect from birth. It often needs and undergoes development in the lifetime of the individual. It often misleads its possessor. In higher forms it is capable of well-directed modification. It seems at first sight to have all the signs and tokens of deliberate purpose implying intelligence. But still Hob- house does not regard it as a form of intelligence. "In- stinctive actions and intelligent actions are opposed in their genesis. To grasp the nature of what he is doing, a man must have some experience of it. But instinct is often almost perfect without any experience at all. In- stinct and intelligence are also opposed in the nature of their contents. The explanation of instinct by intelli- gence does not accord with the facts. Hence this view has given way to the biological theory which explains instinct by heredity: structure and function have evolved together. An instinct is the response of inherited structure to stimu- lus. It recedes from the reflex-action type in so far as persistent internal dispositions influence the response. It overcomes its obstacles by bringing up reserve methods, highly adaptive contrivances, amid complex conditions." Nevertheless, Hobhouse holds that intelligence arises within the sphere of instinct, although in idea the two are distinct. "In so far as an act is instinctive it is not intel- ligent." The actions of instinct are all of a type fixed by heredity.33 McDougall more closely coordinates instinct and intelli- gence.34 Instinct involves the application of past experi- ence to the guidance of present action on a great scale, and hence should be regarded as intelligent behavior: in- telligence serves instinct, and its service is essential; with- out it instinct would be of no avail. Hence the two are 32 L. T. Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, 1915, Chap. IV. 33 For Warren's view of the nature and origin of instinct, see op. tit., p. 234.; foil; table of human instincts, p. 238. 34 Outline, Chap. III. 34 General Psychology always found in cooperation, are not separable. A specific instinct is a concrete fact of mental structure which we infer from the facts of behavior and experience, a func- tional unit of mental structure; or, more briefly, a mental disposition.35 As thus defined, an instinct is a complex disposition in which two principal parts may be distin- guished: (1) the part which renders possible the percep- tion of the specific object; (2) the part which determines the outflow of energy into all the bodily organs that take part in the instinctive activity-the liberation and direc- tion of psycho-physical energy. The bodily organs are servants of instinct in animals. Back of instincts in gen- eral was an "undifferentiated capacity to strive, while the instincts themselves are so many differentiated channels through which the vital energy pours, the motor mechan- isms being the instruments of the instincts. Why any one instinctive impulsive may make use of a variety of motor mechanisms, would be a difficult matter to de- termine, if we were limited to the mechanistic hypothe- sis. ' '3<J Impulse.-If we define rudimentary action as "action upon presentation" (Titchener), then the simplest form of impulsive action may be defined as "action upon rep- resentation. ' '37 Being hungry and seeing a supply of fuod, the idea of the food possesses me, holds my attention, my hand moves toward the plate and I seize the food; I do not merely attend to the food, but to the food and to my idea of my movement towards it. Warren rejects the notion that impulse is a tendency to act originating in the brain, and defines impulse as a special sort of activity propagated along a neuron (sensory, central, or motor) as a result of stimulation.38 This leaves us without a substitute for the action of an idea, in Titchener's ac- 35 Ibid., pp. 103, 106. 36 Ibid., p. 118. See McDougall's discussion of the parental in- stinct, p. 130, foil.; the instinct of curiosity, p. 142; the gregarious, p. 153. 37 E. B. Titchener, An Outline of Psychology, new ed., 1902, p. 251. 38 Op. tit., p. 404. Elementary Principles 35 count. McDougall explains that the excitement of an in- stinct evokes an impulse to action.39 The impulse, of course, varies in strength with the instincts, according to the internal and external conditions of its excitement; and instinctive impulses may overcome one another. An instinctive impulse being liberated or evoked, the organism becomes absorbed in the endeavor toward the goal of the instinct. Disposition.-This is an intermediate term frequently employed with reference to mental activity between the stage of reflex action and instinct. It refers to inherited traits or tendencies to action which combine in varied forms, and in a later state of development is related to temperament.4,0 It is sometimes employed so that the question whether intelligence is derived from instinct or is coextensive with it is passed by. With a view to laying a more explicit foundation for social psychology, Graham Wallas discriminates elementary from complex dispo- tions. The former include the senses, memory, associa- tion, habit; under the latter belong instinct and intelli- gence side by side. A disposition in general is any in- herited element, human nature being the sum total of the elementary and complex dispositions. Intelligence is as truly part of our inherited nature, and as independent a cause of human action as any of the traditional instincts.41 McDougall combines this term with his definition of an instinct: an instinct is "an innate disposition which de- termines the organism to perceive (to pay attention to) any object of a certain class, and to experience in its pres- ence a certain emotional excitement and an impulse to action which find expression in a specific mode of be- havior in relation to that object."42 Summary.-Whether we start with sense-presentations or with our own inner nature brought in contact through experience with presentations, we begin vzith an undiffer- 39 Op cit., p. 108. James says, "Every instinct is an impulse." 40 See below, Chap. VIII. 41 The Great Society, 1914, Chap. II. 42 Outline, p. 110. 36 General Psychology entiated mass or motor-continuum in which details and parts are gradually singled out by analysis. There are streams of energy playing upon the organism, for example, in the case of light vibrations, air vibrations and concus- sions; stimuli produced through the sense-organs (recep- tors), which make selective response to these incoming streams; impulses conveyed through nervous system and brain; and sense-experiences implying (by abstraction) sensations, which should no longer be regarded as distinct entities, but rather as active processes made more explicit by perceptual thinking. We may for purposes of pro- gressive description distinguish various types of reaction or response, simple reactions, reflexes; behavior in con- trast with reflex action, noting its "marks"; and give more specific attention to instinct. Emphasis belongs through- out on the latent, immanent energies of the instincts, their dispositions and impulses. Cognition, conation, and af- fection are already implied in the rich content of the perceiving organism wherewith we meet experience. Our beginning is with psycho-physical activity at large, and we endeavor to be faithful to the facts on the percipient side of behavior, while recognizing the intimate correlation between psychical and physical states. REFERENCES McDougall, W., Psychology, Home University Series; Outline of Psychology, Chaps. II-V, VIII. Breese, B. B., Psychology, 1917, Chap. IX. Robinson and Richardson, Readings in General Psychology, Chaps. HI, IV. Seashore, C. E., Introduction to Psychology, 1923, Chaps. II-VIII. James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, Chap. XXIV (Instinct). Warren, H. C., Elements of Psychology, Chaps. II-V, VII, X. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chaps. II-VI, X, XVII. Watson, J. B., Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behaviorist, Chaps. I1I-V, VII? ' I. For General Study: Elementary Principles 37 II. For Further Study: James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, Chaps. XVII, XIX, XX, XXIV (the problems of the perception of reality and space perception). Drever, J., Instinct in Man, 1917, Chaps. I, IV. Hobhouse, L. T., Mind in Evolution, 1915, Chap. IV. Griffith, C. R., General Introduction to Psychology, 1923, Part Two (Genetic Psychology). CHAPTER III HABIT AND CONATION We have noted that habit bears such intimate relation to the primitive reactions, amid which we have been try- ing to distinguish simpler phases or dispositions, that it is difficult to discriminate innate from acquired tenden- cies. Habit covers the whole field from motor activities (acquired and definitely fixed complex motor responses) to what are called ''mental habits," or fixed trains of thought, and individual stereotyped responses. Warren introduces the term "habit conation" to indicate the sensory experience which accompanies the performance of an habitual act. Basis of Habit.-Behaviorists describe habits as inte- grated reactions modified and improved by repetition and experience, that is, "any definite mode of acting, either explicit or implicit in character, not belonging to man's hereditary equipment. ' '1 No new elementary movements are needed. The learned element is ' ' the tying together or integration of separate movements in such a way as to produce a new unitary activity." Hence a habit is defined as "a complex system of reflexes which functions in a serial order when the child or adult is confronted by the appropriate stimulus."2 Watson presupposes an original, driving or compelling organic activity, such as hunger. Man reacts to overcome the particular stimulus. The pat- tern and order having been acquired, the coordination is gradually built up. The individual at length attains an organized integrated level, each organized habit-system being ready to act under appropriate stimulus. The in- 1 Watson, op. tit., p. 270. 2 Ibid., p. 273. 38 Habit and Conation 39 itial progress is rapid, later progress is slow. Good habits, according to Paton, are an expression of organic unity. They measure the individual's ability to direct his activity toward some definite end. Hence habits are the indices of the adjusting capacity of the individual.3 This analysis is a confirmation of Carpenter's classic statement that the neural mechanism "forms itself ac- cording to the mode in which it is habitually exercised." Uniformities of mental action are conformable to those of bodily reactions. "Any sequence of mental action which has been frequently repeated tends to perpetuate itself." Hence very much depends on the strength of early asso- ciations. Habit is unconscious, automatic, uncontrolled; it is acquired from the proclivity or disposition, the tend- ency to act; and is a product of frequent repetition of exerted energy, a fixed disposition to act in a certain way. New habits are formed by keeping a preconceived end in view, by efforts tending to produce the desired result en- couraged and fixed by repetition, unsuitable acts being repressed. Then the entire sequence comes to be auto- matically executed. Carpenter puts emphasis on the pre- conscious activity, for example, the influence of atmos- phere, the unconscious example of others; on order and regularity in contrast with anything tending to self-indul- gence.4 William James, in the best chapter on habit we possess, incorporates Carpenter's views with his own, in a funda- mental study of great practical and theoretical value.5 Although this chapter is frequently summarized and every student of psychology gives special attention to it, we need to have its main points before us in order to consider anew how far its teachings carry us. The basis of habit, according to James, is found in plasticity, in "the possession of a structure weak enough to yield to influence, but strong enough not to yield all at once." Paths are formed in the organic structure, es- 3 Hitman Behavior, Chap. IX. 4 W. B. Carpenter, Mental Physiology, 1876, Chap. VIII. 5 Principles, Vol. I, Chap. IV. 40 General Psychology pecially in nervous tissue, in the brain, by successive im- pressions. Simple reflexes then operate to bring about a sequence of movements. Primarily and originally, ha- bitual reactions must have been impulsive or reflex. In a strictly voluntary act, there is idea, perception, and volition: in habit mere sensation is a sufficient guide, that is, the initial, impulsive command to start. The most com- plicated habits are simply concatenated discharges in the nerve centers, due to the presence of systems of reflex paths, organized so as to start one another up successively. The chief mechanical problem is to explain the appearance of the first reflex, the function which ''made the organ," the path in the nervous system. Granted this, it is plain that the whole nervous system is a cooperative arrange- ment of such paths, readily traversed on occasion of a stimulus of sufficient strength. Reasons for Habit.-It is important to note in connec- tion with interests in applied psychology to concern us in other chapters, the reason for habit as given by Pro- fessor James. Habit simplifies the movements required to achieve a given result; makes these movements more ac- curate ; diminishes fatigue; economizes expenditure of muscular and nervous energy; diminishes the conscious attention with which our acts are performed; gives a definite, routine manner of performing certain particular tasks. The first impression is that we are like machines, and the practical man might object to the conclusion that habit "dooms us all to fight out the battle of life upon the lines of our nurture or our early choice, and to make the best of a pursuit that disagrees, because there is no other for which we are fitted, and it is too late to begin again"; since character is set like plaster by the time we are thirty and will never soften again. But James is ready with lessons which habit teaches, lessons that put the whole matter in another light; and shows that we need not be mere "creatures of habit." Maxims for Daily Use.-The first essential is to "make our nervous system our ally instead of our enemy." We should make "automatic and habitual, as early as pos- Habit and Conation 41 sible, as many useful actions as we can," guarding against growing into ways likely to be disadvantageous. This is especially true of details, which we hand over to the "effortless custodian of automatism," leaving our higher powers free for other work. James adopts Bain's maxims that we should "launch ourselves with as strong and de- cided an initiative as possible," and that we should "never suffer an exception to occur till the new habit is securely rooted" in our life.6 This shows the importance of con- tinuity of training, and the need of securing success at the outset. So too an old habit should be discarded abruptly. At first sight, this view appears to leave us amid the mere mechanism of behavior, as if our whole life were a mere matter of brain paths, with a mere illusion that men- tal life plays its part, when favorable junctures in brain activity furnish an opportunity for apparent efficiency of will. But clues to the mental correlates are supplied by James, whose chief maxim indicates a real possibility of volitional selection. "Seize the very first possible oppor- tunity to act on every resolution you make, and on every emotional prompting you may experience in the direction of the habits you aspire to gain," in the moment when the aspiration or resolve produces motor effects, communicates a new "set" to the brain. The concrete opportunity to act is the crucial consideration. The result of alertness is " an aggregate of tendencies to act in a firm and prompt and definite way." The chance is worse than lost if we allow "resolve or fine glow of feeling to evaporate." If we flinch from making effort, the effort-making capacity may be gone. If we suffer the attention to wander, pres- ently it may wander all the time. Attention is the very heart of effort. Our part is to improve our powers of attention or concentration, that we may make more suc- cessful effort, keeping the eye single to the goal, over- coming inertia or resistance, doing something each day which we dislike. Hence the significance of the most fre- quently quoted maxim: "Keep the faculty of effort alive e Op. cit., p. 123. 42 General Psychology in you by a little gratuitous exercise every day." All this agrees with the emphasis which James elsewhere puts on the essence of mind as a " fighter for ends ' ' or purposes to which we give ourselves with determined effort. This view is further substantiated by an examination of the automaton theory, the mind-stuff theory,7 and other views which fail to account for the real mind as we each verifi- ably know it. Habit and Will.-The function of the will is seen not only in relation to the act of attention on which James places so much stress, prior to the desired activity of the energies which are to be aroused anew, but in the over- coming of resistances. We find ourselves possessing this "faculty of effort" on occasion. The will did not and can not originate it; but it can select between tendencies, im- pulses, desires already in process toward ends which imply a measure of purposiveness, and express the native utility of our instincts. The impression we wish to make, so as to direct our activity anew, is intensified by focusing our thought upon the goal, picturing the desired result as if already attained. We see then that it is not the brain substance alone that is plastic, but that the mind has what may be called plastic moments too. The "uniform- ities of mental action" which Carpenter emphasizes are results of our concentration, our effort for system, unity, efficiency. It is important to keep in mind the part which selection, interest, imagination, and ideals play in forming our mental systems; hence our purposes, plans, educational choices, and the organization of our work in general. Pro- fessor James, who taught the determinism of habit-struc- tures with the greatest emphasis, was also a firm believer in freedom of will, in real opportunities for taking and developing real initiatives.8 Habit-formation.-Observing that learning or habit- formation, physiologically described, is the process of form- ing new connections in the nervous arc and perfecting these through repetition, we note the further fact that motor habits are learned through the coordination of mus- 7 Ibid., Chaps. V, VI. 8 See his The Will to Believe. Habit and Conation 43 cular movements, as in learning to drive an automobile; while "mental habits" also involve establishing new con- nections in the brain, although there may be no immediate connection with motor expressions.0 Both kinds of habit- formation involve (1) acquisition, or making new connec- tions in the nervous system; and (2) fixation, or strength- ening the newly acquired connections. In the process of acquisition, accommodation occurs when a new path is opened, inhibition when an old pathway is blocked, and diffusion when the impulse spreads into several paths simultaneously. The rate of progress in fixing a new path depends on repetition, intensity, recency, and conflict. "Thus learning is constantly sinking into our bodily or- ganism; indeed the process of nerve modification goes on after action has ceased, so that when we perform the operation next time, for example, playing a game, it is easier. Physiologically we learn when we are resting, when we are sleeping; we continue to learn one thing, when we are actively busy with another. Bad habits no less than good ones are settling in us inexorably even though we seem for the time to have passed out of their sway. ' '10 This automatic process of fixing habits seems to some writers to involve "lapsed intelligence." But Warren calls attention to the fact that this is a wrong notion, since intelligence explicitly means capacity for adaptation.11 As habits are individually acquired modes of behavior, they are as suitable to the permanent factors in the environment as new reactions to new conditions: a habit is as much a display of intelligence as a new re- sponse. New responses are accompanied by vivid con- sciousness, while habits are not; it is consciousness which withdraws, not intelligence. The significant fact, as War- ren clearly shows, is the individual's response to the situ- ation that confronts him. Consciousness, or awareness of the situation, is but one factor in this process; since vivid- ness of consciousness is often reduced to the minimum, 9 See Warren, Elements, p. 253. 10 B. C. Ewer, Applied Psychology, 1923, p. 167. 11 Ibid., p. 262. 44 General Psychology while the automatic activities are increased. The subcon- scious behavior is more effective, more adaptive, even more intelligent than conscious behavior. We should therefore take special note of the fact that intelligent behavior rep- resents a response to the entire situation, tends to express the organism as a whole. This fact becomes the more clear when we look to the sources of habit in (1) involuntarily received perceptual experience; (2) instinctive interests and capacities; (3) acquired feelings and activities, the problem of efficiency being to convert the useful, transitory instincts and the acquired proficiencies into habits.12 A further clue is found in the intimate connection between habit and as- sociation: what has happened tends to happen again, and may become fixed; hence the need of wise selection of those activities which we find eligible from the point of view of our purpose in life. If man is "a creature of habits," it is partly because he permits himself to become so. The efficient man endeavors to make himself in considerable degree a master of habit by mechanizing those activities which may best become automatic as means to the end he is pursuing, while he dedicates his consciousness to a spe- cific line of thought and essential matters of conduct. Meaning of Habit.-McDougall warns us that habit is too much used as an explanatory principle, notably in the case of the "conditioned reflex," sometimes put forward in the guise of a fundamental hypothesis, as if all intel- ligence and all knowledge could be explained by means of it.13 The way to avoid this over-emphasis has already been indicated in part. We have noted that impulses aris- ing from instincts are prior, and that purpose is more fundamental than habit. Habits are not for their own sake; there is a goal or motive in view, not only in ac- quiring them but in selecting those we find worthy of survival among the multiplicity already acquired. In Mc- Dougall's phraseology, "habits are only instruments, 12 M. W. Calkins, A First Book in Psychology, 4th revised ed., 1914, p. 93. is Outline, p. 177. Habit and Conation 45 which subserve our purposes but do not determine them." Habitual action may indeed be called purposive, but only in the sense that it is "performed in the service of a pur- pose with the origin of which it has nothing to do. ' '14 The habit as such is mere mechanism: habits do not start up and generate themselves. The pleasure which attaches to success in our progress toward the chosen goal of ac- tion, in contrast with the displeasure attendant upon failure, is an important factor in the situation; for the di- rective power of mind is dependent upon this element. Encountering a second time circumstances amidst which we have previously striven successfully, the satisfaction attained on the former occasion revives and influences our anticipation, reinforces and sustains our efforts. So too dissatisfaction turns us aside. Pleasure and pain associ- ated with past experience powerfully affect our conduct in the present. Our endeavor in selecting and organizing habits is to regulate the sequence of cause and effect. The Place of Consciousness.-In contrast with the tendency to introduce the term "consciousness" as infre- quently as possible, Marshall argues for the closest corre- lation between consciousness and behavior, with no real break in consciousness during sleep-a theory to bear in mind when we come to the question whether subconscious- ness exists. Consciousness, in Marshall's description, has its own complex system of minor mental elements, each of which corresponds with a nerve element in the complex brain system. The consciousness of any moment is a single pulse of the whole system, a mental emphasis within the total psychical system of the moment. Even in the case of so-called unconscious cerebration [Carpenter], the con- scious process of reasoning may exist, but unnoticed, unemphatie. In the most marked condition of general brain quiescence, in deep sleep, consciousness is of low grade.15 The term "consciousness" is often employed with ref- erence to the unique elements of experience, the phenom- 14 Ibid., p. 181. 15 H. R. Marshall, Mind and Conduct, 1919. 46 General Psychology ena which occur within the individual's own experience of his behavior, in contrast with what other individuals would note in observing his conduct. In this sense con- sciousness is scarcely describable, is incommunicable, is knowable only by possessing it, and yet each may verify its immediacy or given reality by introspecting to find "the stream of thought" in actual process. It appears then to be the surest datum of experience. It is experi- ence as directly known by the individual. Thus Warren introduces the term with reference to "the effects of the environment upon the creature as they appear to the creature himself."16 Mental organization is then "the characteristic arrangement of structures and the coopera- tion of processes which affords this special type of inter- action." Mental life makes use of the structure built up by vital processes, in its development from simple re- sponses, through instinct, habit, communication, and rational action, to social conduct. The external senses supply the information which leads to perception, remem- bering, and thinking; the systematic senses give informa- tion about our internal processes and bodily conditions, hence supply the basis for our affective experiences; and the motor senses give the basis for will. The instinctive activities are results of integration and coordination of nerve-impulses, adjustment is due to inherited connections. Intelligence is the "capacity to acquire and perfect new modes of response through individual experience," in- cluding habit, the fundamental type of intelligent activity, acquired individually. Mechanism and Consciousness.-When, however, we pursue Warren's description to the end we find him re- jecting the view that consciousness once directed responses known as habits. There is no guiding activity of conscious- ness apart from neural processes. Intelligence depends on conditions in the neural constitution of the organism. Conscious experience is determined by the nature of the stimuli. Complex central impulses constitute what we call mental states. An idea is due to a nerve impulse in some 18 Op. tit., p. 11. Habit and Conation 47 part of the brain. The quality of ideas is determined by the trace left in one or more cerebral neurones by some earlier impulse. Our experience of the condition of our muscles and other motor organs, or of the changes which they undergo in actual movement, is not an experience of sending out motor impulses from the center. The sensori- motor activity occurs, the mental state follows. Kines- thetic stimuli combine with ideational impulses to produce volition. Choice is due to complexity of neural conditions, and the most powerful impulse rules. Purpose is related to the adjustment of organic processes, instinctive adjust- ments and sensori-motor responses.17 We readily anticipate the conclusion that the "stream of consciousness" is also a stream of neural impulses, the causal explanation being said to rest on the physical and chemical properties of the nerve. Character is due to the phenomena of central adjustment processes, for mental life depends on the inherited neural mechanism. Con- scious experience, which was to have been kept as the middle term to save us from behaviorism, proves in War- ren's description to be merely "the subjective aspect of nervous activity, ' ' and mental life is regarded as dependent on the presence of an active environment.18 Origin of the Will.-Reverting to the motor-continuum in order to follow another clue which will not involve sur- render to mechanism, we note that primary movements given by nature are later accompanied by ideas or repre- sentations, the appearance of the will being found in con- nection with the manipulation of ideas of movements al- ready in process. The point of interest now lies in the idea with its correlates, the idea which fills consciousness for the time being in relation to action. The question then is, What is the mind's power over its ideas? What is the genesis of the moving idea in the regulation and organiza- tion of activity ? Will presupposes native propensities to action, psychical dispositions amidst which it rises into direction or control. it Elements, pp. 115, 128, 137, 228, 287, 308. is Ibid., pp. 334, 409. 48 General Psychology But this need not be taken to mean that volition is a mechanical product. Sense-experience must supply the content to which the will gives form. But the striking fact is the will's selectiveness, its pursuit of clearly defined ends, amongst the ' ' push and pull ' ' of the impulsive forces. The will discloses inhibition, deliberation, and decision, growing out of selective attention. It so distributes and focuses attention as to constitute the end which its con- centrated activities pursue. The idea or prompting se- lected may be weak at first. It is made strong enough to triumph by what Seth calls "moral integration" whereby new choices are assimilated to old. For it is the entire man-the self-that makes the choice, and, in doing so, he takes up a new moral attitude. A choice is an organ- ization, but it is no mere mechanical association of im- pulses which have triumphed through neural strength. To make our psychology comprehensive enough to dis- close the real man in full vigor of action, we give as full recognition to "moral integrations" as to those "central integrations of the nervous system" to which behaviorists try to reduce all conduct. It is clear that to find con- sciousness later, we must start with it early; to find inhi- bition, choice, will, we must adopt the view that it is already present in the conations which, in McDougall's view, are given in the original mental activity. Thus Woodworth holds that purposive activity appears along with behavior, it is given as an "inner force" which per- sists toward some goal. Wants, needs, and other prompt- ings adopted as motives appear in relation to the selective attention which belongs with the native forms of activity. The conflict of desires and the necessity of choosing be- tween them is a given fact of experience. Our decisions lead to the further organization of the individual. The individual's reactions imply character as real. Will is not a mere product of reactions, but appears in relation to both external obstructions and internal conflicts. Noth- ing is so characteristic of it as the overcoming of the re- sistance which impedes progress in a desired direction.19 19 Psychology, pp. 70, 72, 528, 535. Habit and Conation 49 Whatever the prior state of mental activity, or the ele- ments out of which it is developed, we note its distinctive appearance amid immediate responses to stimuli when mutually interfering stimuli give opportunity for delay, for deliberation and psycho-motor conduct. Such be- havior is purposive, as a reaction of the whole individual rather than a mere response to stimuli. It implies the innate mental constitution with its dispositions, which we have already analyzed in part. Whatever else consciousness is, it is not a mere "light" playing upon "ideas" emerging as entities above the threshold of awareness, as if consciousness were not active in their production. Consciousness implies par- ticipation. In at least a vague sense it is conceivably present in the first phases of the infant's experience, and is progressively present with the discoveries amid sense- presentations which lead to perception, the discovery of relations, in responses to the instincts, and in the formation of habits. In short, consciousness fulfills real functions, and advances to higher activities when no longer needed. There is no reason to minimize the part it has played in the formation of habits, in learning by trial and error. Desire.-Our desires very well illustrate the fact that consciousness is often equivalent to "discovery." We find ourselves wanting this or that. We "become aware" that to a large extent we have arrived where we are to-day by means of desires to which we responded without realizing that they were desires, that we were all the while choos- ing, taking chances. Desire for pleasure actuated us long before we came to know just why we chose as we did. It is long before we acknowledge to ourselves that by impli- cation desire is almost the equivalent of selfishness. Only by the acutest self-consciousness are we able to decide at last precisely what our real motivation is. For desire touches us on every level from sensuality to ideality in purest form. We awaken at last to the fact that we possess more desires than can possibly be realized, and that desire allied with bodily pleasure knows no limit. Desire may then be described as impulse become more explicit, 50 General Psychology directed toward a remote object, aided by imagination; and made especially prominent or distinctive when action is suspended or prevented by some difficulty.20 Noting the unruliness of certain of our desires, the tendency to be inordinate; and also the fact that desires conflict, causing misery by their struggles within us; we tend to progress to the stage of purposive deliberation, and the selection of plans of action. The primary fact, however, is that, as McDougall says, "unless we seek some goal because it is our nature to do so, no reasoning can make us seek or desire it." In a profound sense, therefore, desire is part of our native equipment as the primal "urge" which sends us forth in all our activities; it is not to be separated from instinct, which prompts us to seek our goals. Conation.-Some psychologists never use the term "desire," but include it under the larger term, "cona- tion," as the experience of effort or endeavor in all its forms. Again, there are psychologists who never use "conation," although they use several equivalent terms. James does not use it in his classic Principles of Psy- chology, yet no psychologist is a firmer devotee of mental activity in its effect upon the body, its efficiency in mental evolution, its possibilities in relation to habit under the guise of "the faculty of effort." The student must there- fore be on the alert for recognition of the efficacy of con- sciousness under whatever guise. For example, psychologists of Titchener's type refer to the experience of resistance, in the case of such behavior as wrestling, in long continued or violent muscular move- ments, also in aspiration, longing; in our attempts at the recollection of forgotten names and other data; and in our attempts to make up our mind. The equivalent of cona- tion is also recognized in the effort of sustained attention, in holding to a definite line of thought when the mind tends to wander, despite interruptions and the tendency to fall asleep, the temptation to stop work and rest. It is especially seen in any experience when, more or less overcome by fatigue, we still persist; sometimes gaining 20 Cf. McDougall, op. cit., p. 206, foil, Habit and Conation 51 our "second wind" and finding that less effort is required to keep at work or to keep on walking; again, discovering that we possess more strength than we suspected. Various experiences bring us to recognition of our powers of effort, while other experiences disclose the power of our inertias or our laziness. No psychologist wholly ignores the facts. But those who have previously come to the conclusion that experience is reducible to sensations and affections have no specific term for the description of resistance or effort beyond mere "sensation." This neglect is no doubt due to the tendency to over-emphasize cognition as if produced in the mind from without, independently of any cooper- ative response on the mind's part. On the other hand, psychologists who are more concerned to be true to life or experience than to propound a logically consistent theory, do not hesitate to be faithful to common sense. Scope of Conation.-Recognition of the conative aspect of experience has increased with emphasis on the "drive" or original vital energy implicit in evolution. The aspect of experience known as the suffering of pain and the en- joying of pleasure is sometimes classified as passive, that is, affective, in contrast with the conative, which implies a striving, for instance, in the case of aversion, appetite, reactions toward food. McDougall describes conation in connection with the cyclic activity which begins with some cognition, and in turn evokes an impulse to effect a change, to be followed by continued striving if the object is not attained.21 McDougall holds that conation (in the broad- est sense inclusive of attention, striving, desire, volition, activity of every kind) is immediately determined by cog- nition, and that pleasure and pain are determined by the conation. This is a theory to be kept in view as our in- vestigation proceeds. When the conation outlasts the cognition which initiates it, our interest is to follow this activity in its various forms, not being misled by the em- ployment of terms, such as "interest," "attention," which we may not have definitely connected with the wider term "conation." Thus Royce calls attention to the fact 2i Outline, p. 265, 52 General Psychology that all consciousness without exception accompanies the reaction of the organism to its environment; there is no sensitiveness without at least a tendency to the outward expression of it, no consciousness without reference to needs and desires; hence the whole of our consciousness involves will, or a collection of attitudes which we feel to be more or less responsive to our world.22 There is a prevailing tendency in recent psychology to put the first emphasis on instinctive dispositions, to trace the evolution of consciousness in relation to environment; hence to emphasize the fact of active adaptation. Whether intelligence is distinguished from instinct or regarded as one of its dispositions, and whatever the distinction drawn between instincts and their driving power, the instinctive impulses and allied dispositions are emphasized with ref- erence to the mental activity which they sustain, in con- trast with former emphasis on mere cognition. "The in- stincts form the groundwork of the whole structure of the mind, and upon them are built the complex elaborations which characterize the manifold activities of man" (Tans- ley). Instinct exists for the sake of adaptation. With the integration of simple modes to form complex modes of response, adaptation becomes more pronounced, actions are varied and adjusted to ends, and consciousness becomes more apparent. Consciousness is seen even in relation to what we instinctively tend to do (mechanism), in prep- aration for the efforts it is later to make by choice of means to ends, by the aid of memory traces suggesting the way to variations, and by selective responses which pres- ently disclose interpretative self-consciousness. Man has no choice so far as the nature of things is con- cerned, or so far as it is matter of the innate specific tend- encies of his organism. But within the field of his experi- ence there appear disturbing emotions, such as fear, anx- ieties, worries, and other impeding mental states within his power to control. Thus the art of life grows with knowledge of the differences between what is within his control and what is not. Man can not change the nature 22 J. Royce, Outlines of Psychology, 1903, p. 193. Habit and Conation 53 of the great primary instincts which relate him with the world and with his fellows, through promptings to pre- serve himself, perpetuate the species, organize with others into groups; but in a measure he can control the emotions, sentiments, thoughts springing up in relation with these. Knowledge of his complex nature should be power. Re- cent psychology has brought into view once for all those elements of our nature, irrational or subconscious, instinct- ive or unconscious, formerly left out of account when self- control was limited by the old intellectualism. It is now a question of wise adaptation never before possible, with a view to the increasingly successful enlistment of all our dispositions, habits, desires, while not neglecting the life of reason, now seen as a much later development than we had assumed. Summary.-The subject of "habit" reminds us anew of the intimate dependence of the mind on the body, and involves many considerations which seem to imply that the mind is without efficacy. But habit implies not only the preceding reflexes out of which it has been developed but activities which initiate new habits, inhibit or eliminate old ones, and involve an inner plasticity corresponding to the plasticity of the brain. Hence the way is made clear to make our habits our allies, by the practice of vari- ous concrete maxims. The essential is to keep effort alive, that we may continue to overcome resistances and inertias, retain our pliability and initiative. The facts pertaining to habit as essentially physiological appear to be compat- ible with the conception of consciousness as efficacious, involving functions which imply will, purpose. The ac- tivities involved in the formation of habit continue after the efforts which have initiated them have ceased, after sleep ensues, or when consciousness is centered elsewhere. Learning is steadily in process, the significant fact being the situation which confronts us. Habit is secondary, useful, a means to an end, rather than fundamentally ex- planatory. The whole field of our desires, strivings or conations is to be taken into account. Conation, follow- ing upon but intimately associated with cognition, is 54 General Psychology widely exemplified by our contacts with environment. This involves a conception of efficacious mental activity in contrast with automatism or conditioned reflexes, it further strengthens the idea of a "drive" or original vital energy. Conation is a widely inclusive term, and we have thus far considered only certain of its aspects. REFERENCES James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Chap. IV; for further study, Chaps. V., VI. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, Chaps. VI, VII. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chap. XIII. Warren, H. C., Elements of Psychology, Chap. XI. Watson, J. B., Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behaviorist, Chaps. VIII, IX. Seashore, C. E., Introduction to Psychology, Chaps. XVI, XVII. CHAPTER IV AFFECTION AND EMOTION Psychologists do not agree regarding the order in which the leading phases of mental life should be treated. What- ever order we choose, topics will be put off which ought to come earlier. In general, the effort is to proceed from simple to complex by noting (1) impressions, aroused by objects, events, inner changes: hence sensation; (2) proc- esses developing by means of impressions, which leave images behind, item suggesting item: hence perception; (3) the revival of impressions, implying habit, association: hence memory; (4) the focusing of certain impressions, implying attention, bearing relation to instinct, impulse, conation, feeling, emotion: hence the gradual change of topics from inherited to acquired dispositions. Sense-im- pressions disclose what James terms "the bare immediate natures" of things around us. Nerve-currents conceiv- ably existed before sensation. Capacities for instinctive reaction antedated such reactions, ability to know the experience of knowing. Yet if "the first experience an infant gets is for him the Universe," cognition is already a fact; hence in a way objectivity is a fact, also unity, substantiality, causality.1 Sense-impressions, implying "experience," already involved outer relations: the first moment of feeling is not bare subjectivity, leaving aware- ness of the outward presence of things to be added later. "Our earliest, most instinctive, least developed kind of consciousness is the objective kind." Feeling as such is implied, but is not yet known as subjective. Conscious- ness is already dynamic by implication, in its relationship with the brain. When, therefore, we turn to an analysis i Cf. James, Principles, Vol. II, p. 8. 55 56 General Psychology of "feeling" we are concerned with a manifold so rich that we are baffled, because unable to say all at once what needs to be said. Feeling'.-Popular speech still bears testimony to the old facultative division into feeling, thought, and will, with the major emphasis on "feeling," often made to cover the whole field from sense-experience in its simplest forms to the highest moments of self-consciousness. In ordinary language feelings are distinguished neither from sensa- tions (confused with perception) nor from emotions. A person will say indiscriminately "I feel" when it is a question of pains, pleasures, likes and dislikes, attitudes, opinions, judgments, even convictions; and "I feel" is in general a synonym for "I think" both in the sense of thought as commonly understood and in the sense of "in- tuition" as contrasted with thought. Psychologists some- times lapse into this vague mode of speech. James de- fends this usage,2 and in part permits himself to use "feeling" as a synonym for consciousness in general, as the equivalent of "thought," also with reference to "feel- ings of relation," and "feelings of tendency." There are reasons for the persistence of this terminology. Feeling, as Yerkes puts it, is "inextricably interwoven with knowing and willing." We have many all-pervading feelings, such as agreeableness. Feeling enters into our fatigues, joys, sorrows, pleasures, happiness, satisfaction, relaxation, rest, so that we hardly know how to speak save to say "I feel" tired, happy, sad, relaxed, rested, dis- couraged, "blue," "mean," or what not. A general state of feeling so frequently occupies the center of conscious- ness, in contrast with knowing and willing, that we natur- ally say "I feel" to indicate that the experience is sub- jective, intimate, personal. Yerkes suggests an introspect- ive exercise to put this matter to the test.3 Introspection shows how difficult it is for many of us to discriminate between feeling and knowing, between sensation and a feeling of discomfort associated with it. Wundt class- 2 Principles, Vol. I, p. 186. s Introduction to Psychology, p. 66. Affection and Emotion 57 ifies feelings under the head of agreeableness, disagree- ableness, excitement, quiescence, tension, and relaxation; while Titchener has given a list which covers a still wider range, in a very different classification: feelings (1) of things and qualities as present (sensations and percepts) ; (2) of things as absent (images and memories) ; (3) of facts (relationships, meanings, judgments) ; (4) of per- sonal condition (emotions) ; and (5) feelings of willing. Yerkes defends the use of the term feeling as applied to the will, and classifies volitions as feelings which regularly culminate in a feeling of decision and are rather abruptly terminated with the expression of the decision.4 Organic Feelings.-In sharp contrast with this impor- tance assigned to feeling as a way of unifying types of inner experience, the term feeling disappears from view in behaviorism as stated by Watson. Warren, who occu- pies a midway position, describes feeling as an experience in which systemic sensations predominate, that is, those which give information concerning our internal organic processes, the source of our affective experience.5 Thus the feeling of well-being after a hearty meal is based on our general sensibility. Feeling-tones continue after their special sense qualities fade away, their prominent feature being pleasantness or unpleasantness. The feeling tone, or vague sensation which often accompanies other sensa- tions, probably has no special receptor of its own; but is due to characteristics common to all stimuli which act upon the organic receptors. Thus any process of con- structive or destructive change in the body has, in addition to its own quality (hunger, heart throb, craving, and the like) its feeling-tone. The feeling of general sensibility varies from sensations of well-being, vigor, buoyancy, to repletion, drowsiness, discomfort, fatigue, weakness.6 An objection to the view that pleasantness represents a general organic state, and unpleasantness its opposite, is that we seem unable to discover radically different or- ganic states for the two opposite feelings. It seems im- 4 Op. cit., p. 174. 5 Op. cit., p. 120. e Ibid., p. 112. 58 General Psychology possible to show, for instance, that slow heart beat always gives a pleasant state of feeling, for there is slow heart beat during a morning "grouch." 7 Apparently pleasant- ness can go with a wide range of organic states. A definite clue is found, however, in the fact that feeling is im- pulsive; in the case of pleasantness the impulse is to let the pleasant state continue, in unpleasantness to end it. In indifference there is no impulse either to rid ourselves of a feeling or to keep it. In neural terms, pleasantness goes with a neural adjustment directed towards keeping, unpleasantness goes with an adjustment towards riddance. Feeling as Background.-Whatever the organic rela- tionships, we note that the essential characteristic of feel- ing is subjective, personal, unanalyzed. The essence of feeling, as James has said, is "to be felt, and as a psychic existent feels, so it must be." It is explicitly conscious, we are unable to conceive of an unconscious feeling. It is not necessarily cognitive, as if telling us something about ourselves, but in essence tells us the way we feel; hence the reason for the popular usage, when people wish especially to indicate the way they personally feel about a matter. When we begin to analyze to state just how we feel, for instance, about an organic state, the feeling changes, and we find ourselves describing what we take to be organic states and their probable meaning. Our feeling then is often best characterized in Woodworth's terms as "an undercurrent of consciousness" or "back- ground." The foreground consists of what we are just now taking notice of, thinking about, or intending to do; hence it is impulsive. In the background lies the con- scious or subjective condition, involving the individual's feeling, now calm, again excited, expectant, gloomy or bouyant. Sensations, we note, may be considered in rela- tive detachment, and in their perceptual forms become more vivid when we give particular attention to them, in the foreground; whereas feelings lose their distinctive character in our very effort to introspect and seize upon them. We readily refer sensations to the appropriate 7 See Woodworth, op. cit., p. 176. Affection and Emotion 59 bodily organ, but the foregoing indicates how difficult it is to describe a feeling save by suggesting the characteris- tics which we are all sufficiently aware of when we do not push our analysis too far. The nearest we come to possessing a "sense" through which we feel is in the possession of consciousness itself, and we discover no specific organ related to this other than the brain as a whole. Granted feeling in its subjective essence, we are able to describe it in part by relating specific instances to their sources, when we trace out, for example, the sources of pleasantness and unpleasantness, likes and dis- likes, things we want and things we avoid, also the sources of tension and relief, excitement and its opposite. Ex- citement, release or relief, and their opposites are not regarded as elementary in the sense in which pleasantness and unpleasantness make themselves felt distinctively. Hence the tendency of opinion is to settle upon pleasure and pain, or feeling-tones of pleasantness and unpleasant- ness. Thus the term "affection" takes the place of feel- ing, and feeling is referred to the affective aspect of ex- perience in general. Affection.-It is important to dissociate popular mean,/ ings from this term, since affection in the sense of "love"/ belongs under the head of the emotions.8 Affection in the technical sense includes meanings once vaguely attributed to "feeling." Affection is put in contrast with sensation: sensations are referred to particular bodily organs, while affection pertains to the body as a whole, without the local signs or marks which distinguish a sensation, for instance, in the case of relaxation, agreeableness, or rest- lessness. Hence affection is defined as "a simple or ele- mentary fact of consciousness which is not referred to any particular bodily organ, and which tends to diminish in clearness as it is examined" (Yerkes). We know by experience that the affection connected with a toothache is unlike that of the pleasantness connected with a rich warm color, or with the unpleasantness of a bruised finger; that some affections are strong or intense, others weak. 8 See below, Part Four. 60 General Psychology The disagreeableness connected with a headache may be mild and unobtrusive, or strong and exceedingly intrusive. The affection connected with a toothache may become so intense that we can not for a moment put it out of atten- tion. There is a remarkable range between the minimal and maximal intensities. Some affections are short-lived, others persist for long periods. Some are exceedingly clear or characteristic, others very vague. Yerkes endeavors to account for feelings in the more general sense in which the term feeling was formerly used by describing them as '1 complexes of affection."9 Naturally enough, the term affection does not appear in Watson's psychology, since he omits the fact of the way roe feel in relation to sense-processes. Titchener defines feeling as "the simplest concrete process in which affection preponderates," as when we say we feel warm, tired, thirsty, giddy. Affection is "the conscious representative of the way in which the organism takes certain impres- sions."10 Thus in Titchener's psychology in general it seems possible to describe tliQ whole process of experience by putting affection in relation with sensation. Psycho- logists who use the term "feeling" in its larger sense, find no need for the term tysince the latter term covers the whole process of the inner response which we experience in relation to sensations. It is important, how- ever, to distinguish between feeling in the impulsive sense mentioned by Woodworth, and feeling as the passive aspect of experience (McDougall), that is, the suffering of pain or dissatisfaction, the enjoying of pleasure or satisfaction: it is the latter kind of feeling which is technically known as affection. If we habitually try to say what we mean when tempted to use the term feeling-saying, instead I perceive, I imagine, I think, I prefer, I am inclined to believe, etc.-the probability is that our usage will soon resolve itself into the employment of the term "affection" when we mean the way experience breaks in upon us and touches us. We may then be able to discriminate with 9 Op. tit., Chap. XV. 10 An Outline of Psychology, p, 223, Affection and Emotion 61 sufficient care to verify McDougall's distinction between the working of impulses and their effect upon us so that by "affectability" we shall mean the degree to which the impulses are influenced by pleasure and pain; in con- trast with their (1) strength, intensity, urgency; or (2) their persistency.11 Pain.-Giving attention to the type of sense-experience known as pain, we need no technical distinctions to show us that pain is pain, has its own quality, commands at- tention, and when intense drives out other matters from consciousness. It is referred to various portions of the organism: to (1) different portions of the skin; (2) specific organs, such as the stomach, heart, lungs, or some other internal organ. It gives information regarding the state of bodily organs and tissues, for example, in the case of scratches, pricks, bums, nausea, intestinal pains; bruises, muscular soreness; eye strains or pains; toothache, headache. Thus we appear to have a "pain sense," with a distinctive sense quality, related to the pain nerves in contrast with the sensory nerves; for when special stimuli overflow and become very intense, too powerful for their proper receptors to manage, pain results, as in very bright light, very intense heat.12 "The free endings of the pain nerves take up these vagabond stimuli and the resulting nerve impulses travel up to special pain centers in the brain." Pain has a feeling-tone of unpleasantness [affec- tion], in relation to the pain stimuli, which indicate de- structive processes in the bodily tissues, a quality which we readily identify with pain sensation. Hence we regard pain as a danger signal or warning, as the beginning of destructive tendencies which may lead to disease. Plainly, very much would depend in many cases on the interpretation put on pain, especially in its beginnings in some instances; since the pain might tend to disappear, if regarded as incidental, or might be inten- sified if, according to our opinion of it, we deem it serious in portent, become excited, yield to fear and other dis- turbing emotions. This is an aspect of pain to which ii Outline, p. 353. 12 See Warren, Elements, p. 113. 62 General Psychology psychologists do not give much attention, partly because pain is regarded from the point of view of its effect, as if met passively. But pain implies an attitude taken toward it, and this attitude becomes an active one in many cases, in proportion as we resist, or inhibit resistance be- cause of the interpretation we put upon the disorder of which pain is an expression. Pain may be acute, dull, stinging, gnawing, steady, intermittent; and in all such cases our opinions or interpretations may differ. The psychologist is interested to relate pain to sensations of pressure, in the end-organs, or to an internal organ. But to the physician pain is a symptom, and to the common man no mere "warning" to be taken calmly, as if it were a mere sign of nature's restorative processes. Pain and Pleasure.-If we correlate pleasure with success or progress toward an end, and pain or displeasure writh failure or the thwarting of action directed toward an end, then we note that pain checks, discourages us, turns us aside from the direct line of effort unless some new conation arises within us, to persist despite the signs of failure; while pleasure encourages. Pain may tend to determine action, but does not necessarily do so; pleasure is likely to be highly influential. There is plainly a differ- ence between (1) bodily sensation, ordinarily described as pain by psychologists, for example, with reference to the point on the skin where it is localized, or the organ to which it is attributed; and (2) pain in the sense of dis- agreeable feeling (affection), and often connected with disturbing emotions, but sometimes inhibited when we check ourselves and wrard off the disheartening mental state. McDougall suggests that bodily pain, as a variety of primordial sensory experience, may be regarded as "the primordial undifferentiated sensory quality pushed to a high intensity."13 The pain sensation may then serve as the sign of something to be escaped and avoided. But if perchance fear, with its strong impulse, is subdued or prevented, the sensory experience may be taken as the sign of some beneficial object, which is then welcomed. Outline, p. 267. Affection and Emotion 63 This discrimination would suggest that pain in its "real sense," as most of us use the term, is ordinarily the inner disturbance, which is minimized or intensified as the case may be. It is plain then that the resulting conation is likely to take its clue in accordance with our philosophy or religion, as in the case of the martyrs, who met death at the stake with calm faces. We habitually associate pain with detrimental experience, pleasure with beneficial. But our views in regard to what is detrimental or beneficial change as time passes. If moral action is "action in the line of the greatest resistance" (James), very much de- pends on the point of view, when we meet obstacles which tend to give us pain. The moral doctrine of habit which James expounds so persuasively, suggests that a great deal turns upon keeping "the faculty of effort" alive. So too our attitude toward pleasure, once said to be the only thing we desire, depends on our theory of desire, the nature of goodness, and the utility of pleasure as a sign. Pleasure in general may tend to sustain, prolong, and confirm our modes of striving; so pleasure may determine conation. But with a different moral attitude pleasure may be met by a very different conation. The student should be on his guard for ethical conclusions brought over into the field of psychology. It is difficult for most of us to distinguish between pleasure, which we accept as eligible because of our attitude toward life in general, and the interpretation which we put upon it, in contrast with other alternatives which if adopted might profoundly in- fluence our conduct. Again, our whole approach to the subject may be different if, with Watson, for example, we have adopted another view of behavior, and have found no need even for the words "pleasure," "pain," "affec- tion," or even "attention." Emotion.-Emotion finds recognition in Watson's scheme of behavior, not as inner experience, but as "he- reditary pattern-reaction" involving profound changes of the bodily mechanism as a whole, particularly of the vis- ceral and glandular systems.14 This view is valuable in 14 Op. cit., p. 195. 64 General Psychology connection with any description of the organism which permits the stimulus in question to produce its effect. Thus a child, alone in a house on a stormy night, with only a dim candle burning, may display the reaction of fear at the mournful hoot of the owl; a young man, in the unmarried state, may be extremely sensitive to the blandishments of every female he meets, may show much excitement and over-reaction. That is, a stimulus is emo- tional in type if followed by the pattern-reaction known as emotion, for example, a chaotic state. But the heredi- tary pattern-reaction may be broken up, with reference to the activity level at which an individual's acts are accomplished, for example, when a man's tone is low, or when he is excited and full of "pep." The normal level of activity varies with different individuals, and at times a lower or "depressed" level may be touched when a man is in trouble, after the loss of money or because of illness.15 If an individual were perfectly balanced, there would probably be a uniform distribution of emotional activity; but when emotion is blocked or thwarted the emotions seek other outlets. Thus with fear or rage components a blow or harsh word may result, when there is thwarted love a showering of benefits on some person other than the one who thwarted the love or grief, suicide may ensue. Again, the outlet may be through burglary or vandalism, if society puts on too many restrictions; while balanced individuals find relief through swearing or in private railing at the restrictions. Thus the individual gets relief from emo- tional pressure, "works off" the emotion, "cools" his rage. The consolidation of emotion, instinct and habit results in various attitudes.16 Bodily Responses.-It is customary for psychologists to devote considerable space to the discussion of the James-Lange theory of emotion, namely, that bodily ac- tivity such as w'eeping is essentially the emotion, and that we feel sorry because we weep, feel angry because of the 15 See op. cit. p. 198 for early types of emotional reactions, and a study of fear, rage, love. 15 Op. cit. p. 216. Affection and Emotion 65 bodily state which is suggestive of rage, a theory which behaviorism apparently confirms.17 It is well to understand before we criticize adversely; for James refers especially to the coarser emotions, and points to the feeling of the bodily changes as they occur, given the perception of an exciting fact; in contrast with the notion that one mental state is induced by another, occurs later. When we try to abstract ''the bodily feel- ings" from our consciousness of the emotion, there is noth- ing left. Thus fear is intimately associated with the quickened heart-beats, the shallow breathing, the trembling lips, weakened limbs, goose-flesh, or visceral stirrings. These bodily states are essentially "sensational processes" due to inward currents, set up by physical happenings; and our emotions are inwardly precisely what we find them to be, even if refined in our sentiments we dislike to ac- knowledge that people have such feelings. Granted the occurrence which leads to the emotional reaction, the deep, pure, worthy, spiritual facts remain no less worthy on this sensational theory. Within the limits in which the theory can be verified, its theory withstands objections, so James argues. For example, every one knows how panic is in- creased by flight, how anger or grief increases if one gives way to the symptoms; that each fit of sobbing makes the sorrow more acute; that in rage, it is notorious how we "work ourselves up" to a climax by repeated outbreaks of expression. "Refuse to express a passion, and it dies. Count ten before venting your anger, and its occasion seems ridiculous. Whistling to keep up courage is no mere figure of speech. . . . Sit all day in a moping pos- ture, sigh, and reply to everything with a dismal voice, and your melancholy lingers." Hence James draws the moral inference: " If we wish to conquer undesirable emo- tional tendencies in ourselves, we must assiduously, and in the first instance cold-bloodedly, go through the out- ward movements of those contrary dispositions which we prefer to cultivate. The reward of persistence will in- fallibly come, in the fading out of the sullenness or de- See James, Principles, Vol. II, p. 449. 66 General Psychology pression, and the advent of real cheerfulness and kindli- ness in their stead."18 According to this view, the subtler emotions are in basis sensational experiences, although secondary pleasures may be added, for example, to aesthetic emotion. Unless there is a bodily reverberation in the case of moral rapture, unless we actually thrill over an instance of justice, or tingle at an act of magnanimity, our state of mind can hardly be called emotional at all; and should be known as a judicial state of mind, a cognitive act. An emotional temperament and a lively imagination for objects and cir- cumstances are the conditions of an abundant emotional life. The element of imagination is essential for touch- ing off the emotional trains; for the revivability in memory of the emotions by themselves is very small, and emotions blunt themselves by repetition more rapidly than any other sort of feeling. Personal Emotion.-It has been objected that this theory puts the physical expression of emotion in place of the emotion itself, and that an emotion is more personal, is directed toward a particular object. One is angry with a certain person, sorry for a friend in misfortune; one has strong feelings for or against an individual under certain circumstances. Hence some psychologists describe emotion according to the order of events in which it appears: a train of ideas interrupted by a vivid feeling which mirrors a situation or incident in the outside world, and this feeling is enriched by certain organic sensations aroused during the process of adjustment to the incident or situation (Titchener). It is plain then that emotions interfere with the flow of ideas and with action. When fear descends upon us we are likely to act rashly or blindly, in anger we act foolishly, in extreme joy extrav- agantly. The bodily accompaniment or expression of the emotion is not then the whole of the emotional experi- ence. The response we make to the situation has much to do with the nature and duration of the emotion, but does not wholly determine it; the feeling which inter- is Op. cit., p. 463. Affection and Emotion 67 rupts the sequence of ideas is not a product of bodily sensations, but is supplemented by them.19 Emotional Activity.-Again, as Stout makes clear, emotion may be due to general organic conditions without any particular occasion in the external world. Thus dur- ing illness or because lack of sleep has thrown a man into an irritable mood, he may put a wrong construction on the conduct of others under circumstances which he might otherwise have passed by with indifference. So we say he has "got out of bed on the wrong side." "This influence of organic conditions in determining emotion, and with it the train of ideas, is best seen in those moods of depression and elation which, in some persons, follow each other with an almost rhythmic regularity. In the state of elation the step is elastic, the speech fluent, and in general bodily movements are prompt and rapid. In the state of depression there is a tendency to walk slowly or to keep still; speech is comparatively slow and hesitat- ing, and movement in general is sluggish and vacillating. These external features have their counterpart in the accompanying psychical condition. In the elated mood the flow of ideas is easy and rapid. If difficulties occur they only provoke an energetic effort to overcome or evade them, and if they are recognized as insuperable, we pass with ease to some other line of activity. ' '20 Results of Emotion.-Probably the majority of stu- dents would agree with Wood worth that an emotion is a "stirred-up state of mind," that is, a conscious state or condition of the individual.21 Fatigue is also a stirred-up state, in the case of fatigue sensations after hard work, coming from many different muscles, from eyes, from the neck, etc.; and there are general organic states such as drowsiness, also a state in which we feel full of "pep," or "warmed up." But in anger we "feel mad all over" and do not localize. In such emotions there are glandular responses, preparatory reactions, and then expressive 19 Cf. Yerkes, p. 180, foil. 20 G. F. Stout, Analytic Psychology, 1896, Vol. II, p. 105. 21 See op. cit., p. 118. 68 General Psychology movements. Thus a fear-state of the organism is a state of preparedness for attack or defense. Hence we think of the state of "being afraid" as wanting to get away from danger. When angry we want to strike the person who has given offense. It would seem absurd then to say that we want to get away from a bear because we tremble, that until we start to tremble we would be wholly indifferent. We should dis- tinguish, however, between impulse, as a recoil, for ex- ample from danger, an adjustment to a situation, and the way we feel about it, the emotion. We note then that im- pulse and emotion often occur together. Thus fear means the impulse to escape rather than the stirred-up state which Woodworth describes as the emotion. An impulse may generate an emotion. So too an instinctive action (behavior directed towards an external object) may be accompanied by an internal response or emotion.22 In the case of the higher emotions, probably derived from the primary, the motor responses have been modified. Thus socially acceptable reactions have been substituted for the primitive crying, screaming, biting and scratching, dancing up and down in excitement. Thus resentment, reverence, gratitude, disappointment, find appropriate expression. The definition of the primitive emotions should then cover both the organic processes and the internal re- sponses. Thus Warren defines emotion both as an experi- ence made up of systemic and motor sensations and as a condition of mental excitement, pleasurable or the op- posite (usually with definite organic or pain qualities), accompanied by great muscular activity or tension, which gives rise to intense muscle sensations.23 When the fire alarm sounds your heart beats faster and your legs al- most irresistibly carry you toward the scene, after a thunderbolt your heart stops beating for an instant and your muscles are tense; when you come home after a long 22 On the part played by the glands, see Seashore, op. cit., p. 312, foil. 23 Elements, p. 209. Affection and Emotion 69 absence, you feel a thrill of happiness and wave your arms and shout for joy. So, in contrast with Titchener and other psychologists who first emphasize the idea or the interruption of the train of ideas, Warren describes emotion as the only secondary experience in which ideas do not play a prominent part. Since the perception or idea is not a part of the emotion, it fades into the margin when the emotion surges into prominence. Warren's solu- tion of the James-Lange problem therefore is that neither the motor sensation nor the feeling has precedence in emotion: we need not then assume that we first clench the teeth and fists, and scowl, then feel anger or assume the general anger attitude. These sensations and feelings come together. If we are able to relax the muscles, the emotion will vanish, and pass over into a simple state of feeling; or, if we succeed in removing the systemic sensations (inner response), the emotion also disappears. As most people are better able to control their motor expressions than their organic processes, the motor factor seems to be the crucial factor when the emotions are tested experi- mentally. But the emotional feeling and the emotional expression are equally important parts of the experience, and Warren's way of stating the situation enables us to include the essential features of both the popular and the James-Lange theories.24 Emotion as Self-realization.-Miss Calkins brings out more clearly than most psychologists the personal nature of emotion.25 Starting with the conscious self as perceiv- ing and imagining, recognizing and thinking, we also note that the self loves and hates, enjoys and is disappointed. Emotion then is definable as an intensely individualizing experience: in loving and fearing I am conscious of my- self as this self and no other, also conscious of the individ- ual and unique nature of the friend whom I love or of the superior whom I fear. It is this doubly individualizing 24 See, also, Warren's description of the primitive emotions, op. cit., p. 212; and table of human emotions, with their typical modes of expression, p. 215. 25 First Book, Chap. XI, 70 General Psychology character which distinguishes emotion from perception and all forms of thought. "In my emotion ... I immediately realize myself as a unique self; I find it difficult to believe that there is any other lover or hater in the world, that there is any grief save my grief ... I love this child; I hate that man ... I do not love any child, and hate men in general." Emotion also has a receptive aspect, often overlooked by those who emphasize the bodily movements accompany- ing emotion; it is an affective complex. Thus it is always pleasant or unpleasant, or both. The affective elements are referred to the self who likes or dislikes, is pleased or displeased. The enumeration which Miss Calkins proposes therefore begins with the social emotions (egoistic, un- sympathetic, unhappy, with myself as valued object; al- truistic) and then takes up the non-social (with impersonal objects), in which sensational and relational elements pre- dominate. According to this scheme, the bodily conditions and correlates come in for later treatment. This approach is always with emphasis on the fact that emotion is an individualizing experience which fosters self-realization and direct personal relations, also makes other people real to me. Hence Miss Calkins' description of the emotions is more readily verifiable in terms of the higher emotions, those which James might question on the ground that they are intellectualized. Still another mode of approach is developed by Mc- Dougall in his well-known Social Psychology, in which the emotions are described in intimate relation w'ith the in- stincts, on the theory that each of the principal instincts conditions some one kind of emotional excitement whose quality is peculiar to it. Thus the instinct of flight is connected with the emotion of fear, repulsion with dis- gust, curiosity with the emotion of wonder, pugnacity with anger, the parental instinct with the tender emotion. This view makes possible an exhaustive classification of the emotions in the light of their social values and relation- ships, a consideration which we postpone for later discus- sion. The significant point for the time being is that, Affection and Emotion 71 granted a fundamental view of the human mind, with first emphasis throughout on the instincts as sources of im- pulse, we then have an outlook upon the world which enables us to envisage the emotions as secondary phases of experience, as due not alone to external events, such as the approach of a bear, prompting a person to take flight, but also to the nature of the self in its feeling as- pects. Emotion in brief is therefore definable as "a mode of experience which accompanies the working within us of instinctive impulses."26 The confused emotional ex- citement which Wood worth and others describe as the emotion is due then to the fact that two or more in- stincts are simultaneously at work in us, sometimes one of the activities being due to the original or primitive emotions. The emotions are clues to our instincts. This relationship is verifiable in various fields of practice, such as medicine, education, and industry. Instead then of asking what is emotion as such? we begin with a study of the varieties of emotional experience, noting its con- ditions, internal and external, noting also the part which the various emotional qualities play in our mental life. We may next distinguish the accompanying bodily changes or expressions, and the conative factor in the total experi- ence, the felt impulse to action.27 This unifying concep- tion will make possible a coordination of the character- istics of emotion noted by psychologists of different schools, and enable us to cover the whole field of description from coarser or primitive to more refined and highly specialized emotions.28 Summary. -While the term "feeling" in a defensible sense covers the entire field of inner experience, it is worth while to do our utmost to say what we mean when inclined to employ it, and to limit it to the tones of pleasure and pain which accompany various experiences. Feeling is ae See McDougall, Outline, p. 128. 27 Ibid., p. 317. 28 See McDougall's list of instincts and emotions, ibid., p. 324, and his discussion of the primary and secondary emotions, p. 325, foil. For a biological classification, see Seashore, op. cit., p. 332. 72 General Psychology subjective, personal, and any description must refer to given experience by way of verification. What we tech- nically mean by the term may often be more intelligibly stated as affection, in contrast with sense-feeling (sensa- tion). By affection is meant the way we take the experi- ence in question, in contrast with our perception of the experience in relation to some object or event outside of us, or the way we find ourselves inclined to act. Pain, like sensation, is localized, but has a feeling-tone or affec- tion, and we discriminate between the sensation of pain, its probable source, and the way we are touched by it, the response it arouses from within, our interpretation of it. Emotion belongs within the general sphere of feeling, but theories of emotion vary between emphasis on the bodily response (expression) and the personal response in rela- tion to a particular situation or individual. Emotion is plainly an affective complex, is not to be separated from the tones of pleasure or pain associated with it. But emotion is also so intimately related to the bodily accom- paniment, however interpreted, that it is difficult to settle upon the characteristic to be singled out as essentially emotional. On the one hand, emotion is connected with the instincts, with the self, variously understood; on the other, with specific situations, objects, persons, in the en- vironment. Emotion is plainly something more than the organic change so noticeable in the coarser emotions. Yet in attempting to describe emotion in all its aspects it should be distinguished from impulse (conation), as well as from cognition, and from refinements which tend to intellectualize it so that the bodily accompaniment is neglected. REFERENCES James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, Chap. XXV. Yerkes, R. M., Introduction to Psychology, Chaps. XIII-XV. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chaps. VII-IX. Seashore, C. E., Introduction to Psychology, Chap. XXI. Warren, H. C., Elements of Psychology, Chap. IX. Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, Chap. XI. Affection and Emotion 73 Angell, J. R., Psychology, 4th ed., 1908, Chaps. XIII, XIV. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, Chaps. XI, XII. Cannon, W. B., Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger, Fear and Page, 1915. Watson, J. B., Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behaviorist, Chap. VI. CHAPTER V ASSOCIATION AND MEMORY Study of the laws and conditions of habit makes us acquainted with the fact that sense-experiences tend to combine and to be reproduced according to the order in which events make their impression, and the order of the motor reactions of the organism. But on the mental side experience is much more than merely reproductive. Hence to explain the higher processes built on association and revival of sense-impressions, we first take note of the traces which experience leaves behind in the form of imagery and reproductive imagination. Imagery.-Images are defined as faint copies of sen- sations, or faint experiences of sensory qualities; they are the mental representations of things not present to sense. They arise in the absence of stimuli which aroused the sensation, and enable us to recall or imagine the object. They give content to memory, precede thought and voli- tion. Involuntary movements leave images in the memory, and by their aid we are able to repeat these movements till they become habitual, also make the change to volun- tary movements of new kinds. We will by the aid of anticipatory images. A visual image, say of a tree, ordi- narily occurs to mind as an illustration; but an image may be due to the excitation of any of the senses, or of several in combination. Hence the term refers to sense- impressions of all kinds, reproduced sensory experiences of every sort, including images of both systemic and motor sensations. The memory image of a recent experience of a novel object is a typical instance. Psychologists distinguish between the experience as presented, with its characteristic perceptual qualities, and 74 Association and Memory 75 the experience as productive of images, some of which enter directly into the perception, with the same sensa- tional attributes (quality, intensity, duration, extensity) ; while the memory image remains as the basis of revival. Our apparently new experiences are neither wholly new nor wholly old; but are made up of impressions and memory images, presentations and representations. Ab- sorbed as we are much of the time in the present per- ceptual experience, we are apt to forget that images of other experiences combine with the one now in process. The new impressions are apt to be much more vivid and hence to attract our attention.1 It has been objected that "image," like "sensation," is an abstraction, and that we should say "imaginal ex- perience" (McDougall) ; but any aspect of experience as technically described is an abstraction, and should be understood in its context. A real problem would be, to consider whether "meaning" can be reduced to a mere matter of successive images. As they come and go, we note that some are vivid and others very faint, some stable but others fluctuating; while a few appear to be as stable as in perception. A memory image may be of a single item, such as a spot of red or green; images derived from several sense-impressions may combine in imagina- tion or fancy; others are purely anticipatory of actions we are about to perform; still others are composite and general, and enable us to make our conceptions concrete and definite. Mental Types.-People differ greatly in their mental imagery. A few minds depend chiefly on general prin- ciples, do not revert to imaged details, or illustrate by concrete imagery; but the majority are of auditory, visual, motor, verbal, or various mixed types, the type being known by the imagery which predominates. Some who excel in visual imagery readily recall not only the ap- pearance of the breakfast table but faces of strangers re- cently met, and of friends in various guises, whatever the i For exercises on the types of imagery, see Seashore, Introduction, p. 145. 76 General Psychology changes in facial appearance. Sensations of movement may be readily recalled by some who are poor at recalling visual or auditory imagery. Visual-motor types and auditory-motor are frequent combinations. In the verbal- motor type, the predominant imagery takes the form of images of movement, with images partly motor in type, but partly in the form of words. The visual image recurs most readily to the majority, and so people ordinarily think in terms of things seen. The notable exception is in one's inability to recall familiar faces seen under a great number of aspects during a life-time, as in the case of one's mother. A few people have a remarkable memory for both names and faces, while unintelligent minds recall trivial imaged details or simply rehearse their imagery in the order in which it reappears.2 Imagination.-It is easy to assume that imagination produces thoughts or pictures which have no relation to reality. But the only source of our imagery is in sense- experience. The wildest fancy ever built up is developed from given materials derived from two or more experi- ences and combined according to the motive, the stage of mental development from childhood on, or the use which intelligence makes of its data. Images rapidly flit into the mind of the child, the poet, the person whose thought takes symbolical form, the mystic who projects his emotion upon reality. Granted a few images rather faithfully reproduced from memory, imagination builds on them in fanciful productivity, developing pictures or symbols to suit, for the mind's entertainment. Productive Imagination.-Imagination begins by being reproductive, and in the case of matter-of-fact minds the imagery seldom departs from those combinations which best exemplify prosaic interests. In other minds imagina- tion takes on aesthetic forms; the landscape painter sees an entire new landscape where little is present to sug- gest it, the portrait painter catches a beautiful vision amidst commonplace features. An imagined object may 2 On the difference between after-images and imagination-images, see James, Principles, Vol. II, p. 50. Association and Memory 77 be so remote from ordinary perceptions as to seem like a sheer creation. Thus in a way imagination creates what is novel, strange; and the mind may live in a world of imagi- nation, particularly in childhood, when fancied objects and invented tales are often more engaging than directly noted realities. So an imagined world may be very "real," especially if peopled with objects which arouse pleasure or give rise to fear. The child does not distin- guish between either memory and imagination, or imagi- nation and reality as we count "reality" when we try to eliminate all fancies read into it. Thus a child will readily tell a lie, athough lying is far from being an actual motive. Adults are still discoverable who prefer a world constructed for the most part out of what they would like to believe. The persistence of imagination in childhood and later life has led many to believe that imagination occupies no place save as mere fancy, that imagined objects are always essentially unreal. Hence scholars have done their best in recent years to show the importance of imagination in all pursuits involving exploration or discovery, in pro- pounding and developing hypotheses, in visualizing past geologic ages, making graphic all the special sciences; in art, notably architecture and painting; in all work known as creative. Although images are 1'uited as compared with their originals, because ordinarily possessing less color or tone, less "body"; often sketchy and lacking in detail, narrow and lacking in background; unsteady and fleeting; and on the whole inferior to the actual presence of an object,3 nevertheless the mind which operates cre- atively overcomes these limitations in a measure, and pro- duces imagined objects which embody the special interest, as in the case of the geologist whose profound knowledge of the past ages of the earth enables him to picture the detailed appearance of a given age. Creation is always reconstruction of material, and it may keep close to fact and precise principle, may be governed throughout by a purpose. s See Woodworth's summary, op. cit., p. 371. 78 General Psychology Scope of Imagination.-Psychologists trace the devel- opment of imagination by reference to both the explora- tory movements of the sense organs, as the enterprise of exploration runs the gamut from simple exploratory move- ments in looking and listening to the elaboration of laws and the testing of hypotheses; and the manipulative or inventive activity which also runs a gamut from the child's play with toys to the production of a work of art.4 Ex- ploration eventually seeks to know things as they really are, but invention modifies or rearranges the facts accord- ing to the interest which prevails. In the course of time the mind is able to manipulate concepts, invent theories; and so ' 1 meaning" gives place to earlier motives. ''Make- believe" leads in time to constructiveness, and if the imaginative tendency has not been inhibited by erroneous teaching in regard to the imagination it is turned to ex- cellent use. The question of the use of the imagination is to be borne in mind in connection with what has been called "the creative impulse in industry," the origin and nature of "play," in "empathy" (feeling one's self into the object), and in the study of dreams. The critical problem with which we are likely to become concerned involves the question to what extent we preperceive those objects which more or less fanciful beliefs have prepared us to find. James has warned us that most of our per- ceptions are preperceptions, and McDougall holds that p.reperception is the most primitive kind of imagining. Granted that the starting-point of imagination is in the brain, that is, in the sense-traces left there, habit and association will plainly have much to do with the develop- ment of our imagery into forms which we take to be re- alities. The felt difference between imagined and per- ceived objects may seem absolute, yet we may have exaggerated this contrast.5 In our dreams we take all objects to be real, discrimination being entirely quiescent; and by contrast we remember what it is to be merely 4 Cf. Woodworth, p. 481. 5 Cf. Janies, Principles, Vol. II, p. 72. Association and Memory 79 dreaming. But in the truest perception imagination aids in the production of the object. Imagination Types.-Seashore distinguishes the types as (1) sensuous, those whose imagery is luxuriant and realistic, often fantastic, idealized, enriched; and so molded as to embody feelings, biases, aspirations, or fears, at times impressionistic and effervescent; (2) intellectual or scientific, philosophical, where creation takes the form of propositions, theories, postulates, logical ideas more or less concretely represented by images; (3) sentimental, artistic, where objects assume meaning with reference to remote ideals or sanctions, such as harmony, unity, pleas- ure, beauty; (4) impulsive, resulting in the display of feeling, the arousal of emotion in others; lacking in logic, poise in sentiment, and continuity of effort; (5) motor, sometimes called practical or mechanical, lacking the ap- pearance of mental creation, suggesting the effort of the plodder. 1 'Balanced imagination" includes each and all of the type-traits in well-developed symmetry.6 Association.-No aspect of mental life is more obvious than the fact of association between different phases of experience, or between one experience and another. We are all well aware that familiar scenes have certain asso- ciations for us, that articles of furniture and other posses- sions have value according to their relationship with home and family, and that when emotions are connected with experiences their accompanying likes and dislikes readily recur if the experience in question is mentioned. In the case of love-affairs and other experiences which touch us deeply, we find that if a disappointment occurs it is necessary to break up a whole series of associations through a change of scene, interest or work. In learning new habits, for instance, driving a car, we note that a certain sequence of movements must be fixed in mind and coordi- nated before the habitual associations become settled. We are all the time establishing new associations and permit- ting others to lapse through loss of interest or sundering them by acts of will. Plainly, our whole life exemplifies 6 Introduction, p. 268. 80 General Psychology this relationship. Some of our games are founded on the principle of association, and the fact of "the associa- tion of ideas" is so apparent that it would seem an easy matter to explain our inner experience in its entirety by means of it. The appearance is misleading, however, if we mean that an idea is a fixity such that, given one idea cogitated be- fore, we thereupon recall a whole series of ideas previously thought in relation as entities. For the same idea does not recur, and an idea is given in an activity-context which keeps on its way even while we think. Looking further back than the association which the idea discloses, we note that the objects which are discriminated in the motor- continuum or mass of sense-presentations, given in a cer- tain order, tend to recur in that order; or, in physiological terms, what the organism finds together in the environ- ment in which it lives, remains together, so that the asso- ciation persists even when the original conditions no longer continue. The study of association therefore has several aspects, and the first clue is physiological. The Association Mass.-The given mass of experience seems at first hopelessly complex, because of "the manner in which trains of imagery and consideration follow each other through our thinking, the restless flight of one idea before the next, the transitions our minds make between things wide as the poles asunder, transitions which at first sight startle us by their abruptness, but which, when scrutinized closely, often reveal intermediating links of perfect naturalness and propriety-[a] magical imponder- able streaming [which] has from time immemorial excited the admiration of all whose attention happened to be caught by its omnipresent mystery."7 Yet the difficulty begins to be cleared away when we discriminate between (1) connection thought of and (2) connection between thoughts. The jungle of "connections thought of" is not easy to state; for we can think any sort of connection, such as those mentioned by James: as coexistence, suc- cession, resemblance, contrast, contradiction, cause and 7 James, Principles, Vol. I, p. 550. Association and Memory 81 effect, means and end, genus and species, part and whole, substance and property, early and late, large and small, landlord and tenant, master and servant. But when we consider "connection between thoughts" by means of the great law of habit we find that the irrational is as readily reproduced as the rational, the explanation being found in the mechanical conditions of thought, the cerebral con- nections. We learn too that "twenty experiences make us recall a thing better than one, that long indulgence in error makes right thinking almost impossible." It is plainly not a mere question of the compounding of ideas according to reason, for the sake of truth. The irrational is part of what James calls "the bone and marrow of our minds," despite the fact that its arrangements seem quite fantastic and arbitrary. "Reason is only one out of a thousand possibilities in the thinking of each of us." Association of Objects.-The first fact of significance is that things related in space, events occurring around us in sequence, become associated in the impressions laid down, so that it is primarily a question of the association of objects, not of ideas. The sequence of ideas is to be regarded in the first place as due to the sequence of con- nections in the brain, the simplest example being that of a series of movements repeated in a certain order and unrolling with "peculiar ease" in that order forever afterward. Thus it is that rooms, landscapes, buildings, pictures, persons with whose appearance we are familiar rise before the mind's eye when we chance to think of one of their component parts. Association occurs as amply between impressions of different senses as between homo- geneous sensations; for instance, seen and heard things readily cohere with one another and with odors, tastes, in representation, in the same order in which they cohered as impressions of the outer world. Our objects of per- ception are in fact simply clusters of qualities which through simultaneous stimulation have coalesced so that, one item being given, the others arise. In other words, "objects once experienced together tend to become asso- ciated in the imagination, so that when any one of them 82 General Psychology is thought of, the others are likely to be thought of also, in the same order of sequence as before." Scope of Association.-In brief, objects, events, situa- tions, desires, strivings, pleasure, pain, emotions, acts of attention, volitions, thoughts are experienced in relation; and to become aware of any part of the relation (the "cue" or key word, the point of special interest) is to become aware of other parts, possibly to call up the whole association-series. Thus in perception impressions have meaning in their relationship to past experience, in mem- ory the relations are reinstated so that the former situa- tion is called up; in imagination certain images recur, then the others by association with these; thought pro- ceeds from point to point as certain relations suggest others, some being accepted and developed, others rejected, according to their relevancy; and, in life in general, asso- ciation is the bond of experience, conscious and uncon- scious, the groundwork of mental life. "Instinct is the unconscious association formed in the life of the species; habit is the unconscious association formed in the activi- ties of the individual; feeling is the mass formation of undifferentiated associations; impulse is the breaking out of the associations into action under the sway of feeling; imitation is a blind following of associations with the be- havior of others; will is association controlled by selective attention; animal thinking is mere association."8 Laws of Association.-It is customary to classify association by contiguity, similarity, and sometimes con- trast, as primary laws, although these are reduced to con- tiguity (reinstatement), known as the basic law. The process in brief is that of integration into a new situation of the elements common to the former situation and ex- perienced together. The reinstatement depends upon the kind of connection which exists, the bond of relations. Warren reduces similarity and contiguity to two phases of the same principle; then emphasizes frequency, vivid- ness, and recency as the secondary or quantitative laws which determine the selection of ideas.9 The quantitative 8 Seashore, Introduction, p. 156. 9 Elements, p. 185. Association and Memory 83 laws are then explained as dependent on the activity of the nerve pulses in the brain: in passing from center to center the current invariably follows the path which offers the least resistance. Similarity, contiguity, frequent repetition, original strength of impulse, and recency of excitation determine the relative degree of resistance of several possible pathways; hence these factors determine '1 which way thought will jump. ' '10 The general bodily condition also plays a part in determining the direction of our thinking. Warren mentions several other influ- ences, and concludes by saying that thought is both free and determined, it is not compelled by outside forces, but follows definite paths determined by the make-up of the nervous system and by the attitudes which the in- dividual has built up through his past experience. So a train of thought continues indefinitely until something occurs to check it. Seashore enumerates as secondary laws: (1) primacy, or the tendency of the first formed association to prevail; (2) recency; (3) intensity; (4) frequency; (5) emotional congruity, embracing a wide variety of conditions which modify the mental set or at- titude of the individual.11 These factors of association all apparently point to contiguity as explained by neural association, and so what we call mental association seems to be a mere effect of cerebral processes. As James puts the matter, the "nerve- currents propagate themselves easiest through those tracts of conduction which have been already most in use."12 Objects and ideas may fit into parallel schemes, as tending to recur together. But this may not often happen. The fundamental statement is that the only elementary causal law of association is the law of neural habit. That is, the "materials" of our thought are due to the way in which one elementary process of the cerebral hemispheres tends to excite other elementary processes formerly ex- cited; the number of elementary processes determine the 10 Ibid., p. 314. 11 Introduction, p. 158. 12 Principles, Vol. I, p. 563. 84 General Psychology character of the total brain-reaction, hence the object thought of at the time. Interest.-Why is it, however, that when past experi- ences are revived not all the items of our thought are equally operative in determining what the next thought shall be? Why is some "ingredient" preponent over the rest? In subjective terms the answer is, interest. Lincs of contiguity and points of interest are inextricably com- bined in ordinary or mixed association, and to explain the connections it is necessary to take into account not only habit but recency, vividness, congruity in emotional tone. If on the one side there is "purpose," on the cerebral side there is persistent activity of certain definite brain- processes throughout the whole of the given sequence of thought. Our most usual thought sequences are not then pure reveries, absolute driftings, but involve some cen- tral interest or topic, with relevant images, and returning attention after occasional digressions. In the case of what we call voluntary thought, what the will accomplishes is to emphasize and linger over the associations which seem pertinent, ignoring the rest. Similarity, frequently offered as a principle of explanation, is not elementary, for the object called up "may bear any logical relation whatever to the one which suggested it." If at any point we are to make our escape from the mechanical view it must be, thinks Professor James, by observing the effects of interested attention and volition; since there is no mental spontaneity which can create or summon ideas abruptly. The will may select amongst those ideas which the associative machinery has already introduced or tends to introduce. It may then reinforce or protract the selected idea for a second or so. This fresh emphasis may decide the direction of the next associations by making them turn upon the point of emphasis. But in all other directions the process is certainly cerebral. Wood worth holds that in addition to frequency, recency, and intensity as factors in recall, the subject's present state of mind should be taken into account. When he is unhappy, unpleasant associations have the advantage in Association and Memory 85 the subject's mind; if absorbed in a given matter, facts related to that subject have the advantage. Thus while frequency, recency and intensity may indeed summarize the history of associations, and measure their strength as dependent on their history; the present state may be a directive factor, and this yields '1 controlled association. ' '13 Purposive Association.-So too McDougall, while rec- ognizing the part played by habit in association, objects that all association can not be explained as identical with the formation of bodily habits by repetition of trains of movement.14 Association occurs not only by means of temporal contiguity but also through meaning, and mean- ings involve purpose or conation, that is, "true mental association," association between mental dispositions and systems. This is a real and important process of growth of mental structure. To make this claim for mental asso- ciation is not to hold that association makes anything new, that it creates ideas; it connects ideas or dispositions previously formed or differentiated by discrimination and logically ordered by apperception. In so far as conation interferes with and largely over-rules association, our thinking becomes purposive, is striving toward a goal, the solution of a problem. McDougall's reference to intel- lectual conation at this point tends to confirm James's suggestion, mentioned above, namely, that if at any junc- ture in our mental processes thought is able to escape from the mechanical association it must be when inter- ested attention or volition emphasizes a selected idea so as to give it new direction. This is in accord with the contention on which James puts so much stress, that con- sciousness must really be what it seems to us to be, "efficacious." Our selectiveness is then a profoundly real moment of our experience. The student may think that James frequently departs from this view, and seems to prove that thought is every whit mechanical, that the law of habit or neural determination is absolute. Yet all that is needed to establish the reality of efficacious thought, is Op. cit., p. 379, foil. 14 Outline, p. 393. 86 General Psychology attention or will, is that our consciousness shall have decisive directive power on occasion, shall be able to give associative processes another turn. Memory.-In considering habit and association we have already been considering memory. Things and events occur together in the world around us, they make a cer- tain impression upon the organism, and this impression tends to endure and to be reproduced in the order of the original association, because of the plastic nature of the brain, with its properties of retentiveness.15 Physiolog- ically, memory is due to the fact that traces are left in the brain substance'by past experience, and that these traces are aroused by some new nerve impulse which brings the memory images to the surface. The essential factors are retention and revival. It does not follow, as we have seen, that the actual mental image is stored away like a picture, which forthwith rises to the surface and proves to be identical with the original perception. Mem- ory consists of a record which is neither the same as the original sensation nor like the object; but is such that, granted an activity which enters the given association by reviving one of its items, a new experience occurs as a more or less exact reproduction of the previous experience. The distinctive mark of memory is that we not only revive associations and have a new experience of them, but that we recognize the experience as reproductive, have an awareness of familiarity, identify the place and events recalled as related to our past experience. We do not recall the past experience and live it through precisely as we formerly experienced it, in the same order, with the same relationships throughout; we remember more or less clearly, accurately or completely as the case may be, ac- cording to the nature of the experience, its meaning for us, and the type of memory which we possess for such events. We find that many details escape us. We begin at a certain point and work back, or try another approach and recall the experience as well as we can. is Cf. Seashore, op. cit., p. 255. Association and Memory 87 Conditions of the Process.-What is the essential fact, which makes possible the recall of certain features of the experience, while others are vague and still others beyond recall? That the previous state of mind must have en- dured for a certain length of time, it must have had in- cluded what James calls "substantive" states which made a sufficient impression to make possible the recall, so that details which attracted more attention produced a more marked impression. The experience must have lingered long enough to produce an image, and by means of this image we are able, through its associates, to recall item after item. The image once produced so that its traces are retained, the mind recognizes the revived ex- perience as revived, and locates it in time and place, in the case for instance of a face recalled and identified as that of a friend whom we met on the bridge yesterday. Retention has been aptly called a resting state in which a learned reaction, for instance, remains until a stimulus arrives that can arouse it again. What we carry about with us is not the reaction as such, but the equipment for recovering it upon occasion. Some of our memories re- vive merely because in the process of association we happen upon them. Others arise into consciousness because we are able to direct attention to an item dr phase which in turn will revive those matters which we wish to recall. Inquiring into retention more specifically, we find that it follows the law of association. The experiences which we remember best are those which have been most frequently presented. We readily recall the numbers, names, and other details connected with our regular occupations and interests, attended to day after day. Again, we easily recall events and things which have recently entered into our experience, including many matters of merely passing interest, items which we will be unable readily to recall after a few days or weeks. Selective Memory.-The more vivid the experience is, particularly in the case of an emotional experience which "strikes home" or a novel experience which arrests at- tention just because it is new, the more likelihood that it 88 General Psychology will be readily recalled. We also learn that experiences which were especially pleasant or particularly disagree- able stay with us. Emphasis should also be put on our main interests in life, our chief purpose; for we develop our minds in accordance with remembered experiences or items which we have noted, compared, endeavored to understand or to work out connectedly into a system. What is most important for us in the long run is not the mere experience, which we may perchance recall without difficulty, but its significance for us, what we saw in it by interpretation, the belief which we wrought out of it. So our memory of what we have passed through is in a measure influenced by what we wish to believe concern- ing it. An accurate memory will enable us to distinguish between what we actually experienced and our recollec- tion of what we thought about it at the time. Through memory we note what we experienced, and realize that we experienced it, in contrast with the construction which we put upon it. We further note that our selective memory was what it was because of a prevailing interest in just that sort of experience, for example, a religious experience which tends to confirm what we already be- lieve concerning "conversion." James makes this explicit by saying that "all the intellectual value for us of a state of mind depends on our after-memory of it. Only then is it combined in a system and knowingly made to con- tribute to a result. Only then does it count for us. So that the effective consciousness we have of our states is the after-consciousness; and the more of this there is, the more influence does the original state have, and the more perma- nent a factor it is of our world. ' '16 We observe then that a state of mind does not remem- ber itself; we remember it by noting its relationships, as expressly referred to the past, with the warmth and intimacy which Janies emphasizes as characteristic of all experiences appropriated by the thinker as his own. We believe that some element of our inward nature persists so that we are able to identify the thinker of to-day with is Principles, Vol. I, p. 644. Association and Memory 89 the one who noted the face of a friend on the bridge yesterday. We may not be able to project our thought successfully at first, so as to locate the place or recall the time. But, granted the memory image, our thought fills in the details and identifies not only the experience but with an awareness that it belongs with the context of other experiences. Memory Training.-The subject of memory involves many interesting and technical matters which we can only briefly refer to here. Memory for Watson is reduced to the study of practice details in the learning of explicit bodily habits, word habits, and the like, in terms of re- tention : after a period without practice, the function is not lost but is retained as a part of the individual's organ- ization.17 Woodworth examines in detail the process of memorizing or learning, and shows in what respects mem- ory can be managed and improved.18 The experimental investigation of memory is likely to be of great interest to the student, particularly with regard to memory training. The prior question for some will be the one discussed by James, namely, the reason why one's native retentive- ness is unchangeable. The reason for the bare existence of memory having been made plain, that is, the retentiveness through association of the nervous system, it is under- stood that memory is conditioned by brain-paths; and that both its excellence and its limitations depend upon the number and the persistence of these paths. It follows that "all improvement of the memory lies in the line of elaborating the associates of each of the several things to be remembered. ' '19 Our culture does not then modify our general retentiveness. This is a physiological quality, given once for all, and we can never hope to change it. What we can improve is our habitual methods of record- ing facts, with special reference to attention, vivid inter- est, that is, selection, "the very keel on which our mental ship is built." The question will then be whether the student gives sufficient heed to this selectiveness, with its it Op. cit., p. 304. is See Psychology, Chap. XIV. io Principles, Vol. I, p. 663. 90 General Psychology implications, to avoid lapsing into acceptance of sheer neural determinism, as if memory were nothing more than a matter of reflexes. The problems of memory may be tried out experiment- ally by the aid of standard works on psychology.20 There will remain the question of memory as regarded by psy- chologists who decline to believe that retention is limited by the persistence of traces in the brain, or that a man's general retentiveness or tenacity of memory can not be improved by cultivation. It is important, in McDougall's statement of the problem, to distinguish between (1) the power of committing to memory; (2) the retaining of the traces which facilitate reproduction; and (3) the capacity for reproducing by means of these traces. Mental Memory.-If, with Bergson, we hold that memory is not conditioned by the persistence of traces in the brain, that all experience leaves an indelible trace in the mind, we are once more concerned with that per- sistent mental activity which is the main source of our conations, the life of our purposes, the reason for our selectiveness. It may then prove that habit and memory are by no means identical functions, that habit is of the body; memory of the mind, involves mental association in terms of our "meanings." The practical conclusion is highly important for those who are inclined to be dis- heartened when they have finished James's account of the limitations and retentiveness of brain-paths, fixed once for all, namely, "to have a good memory is to have a well- organized mind" (McDougall). For this conclusion di- rects our attention to the conative aspect of memory as its essential function. Retrospective analysis may then con- vince a man that in a sense he has as good a memory as he desires to have in view of his given purpose in life. The scholar voluntarily ceases to learn by heart, and fore- goes many other activities which might have kept his memory strong in various directions because, as time goes on, he becomes more and more definitely interested in his 20 See Warren's discussion of the whole subject, Chap. VIII, together with McDougall's study of experiments, op. tit., p. 293. Association and Memory 91 particular pursuit, because he has trained himself through years to observe, recall, interpret and develop systemat- ically those matters which pertain to his purpose. He forgets those matters which he wills to forget. He re- members for shorter or longer periods the details which he has reason to keep freshly in mind while the given period lasts, as in the case of the teacher who becomes acquainted with the names and faces of a new group of students, notes where they sit in class, keeps the abilities of each more or less in mind, but drops these details out of mind when the year's work comes to an end. He gives more and more acute attention to significant matters here and there as the years pass, improves his organization of material and with it the kind of retentiveness which is germane to his purpose or subject. Summary.-Experience leaves its traces behind in the form of images of various types, and these memory images make possible reproductive and productive or creative im- agination. People differ in type according to their facility in acquiring and utilizing imagery. The laying down of impressions in the order received further implies associa- tion, which is due-to (1) the sequence of events, their con- tiguity, similarity, recency, and other factors as essentially association of objects; (2) the fact of habit, with its laws, reproduced sequences; and (3) the corresponding mental processes referring to but building upon the given asso- ciation of objects. So too memory may be regarded first from the side of its conditions and laws in the brain but also as essentially mental, as it becomes selective, is im- proved by training through the development of meanings and purposes. What signifies is the use to which we put our imagery, associations, memories, in so far as we de- part from mere experience and endeavor to interpret the given contiguities, similarities, or association of objects in space and time. Memory may not be entirely condi- tioned by the persistence of traces in the brain, and our mental processes at their best may be due to our power of organizing our material. 92 General Psychology REFERENCES Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, Chaps. Ill, IV, VII. James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Chaps. XIV, XVI; Vol. II, Chap. XVIII. Yerkes, R. M., Introduction to Psychology, Chap. XXII. Warren, H. C., Elements of Human Psychology, Chap. VIII. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chaps. XIII-XV, XIX. Seashore, C. E., Introduction to Psychology, Chaps. X, XI, XVIII. Hunter, W. S., General Psychology, rev. ed., 1923, Chap. IX. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, Chaps. VIII, X. CHAPTER VI ATTENTION AND WILL The fact of attention is obvious long before we begin actual study of mental life. All acquisition depends on it, and as our training advances we give more heed to the factors which make for an art of attention. The mass of objects in their vague continuities, amidst which we dis- criminate differences and relations, yields up its content so far as we pay attention in terms of our meanings; and if " we all cease analyzing the world at some point, and notice no more differences," it is because our attention limits our world.1 Our impressions of the world are often vague and confused, because we have never experienced their constituents singly; and to advance beyond this kind of relationship with the world we must be able to give separate attention to these parts, attention being the con- dition of all analysis. It is acute attention which at length enables us to detect the factors of our mental life known as original, out of which we propound a theory of mental elements, such as sensation and affection. Attention en- ables. us to abstract, associate, and to improve our dis- crimination by practice; to note likeness and unlikenesses, especially those likenesses which involve the discovery of analogies, and, with retentiveness and association, lead to profound generalizations. Underived Attention.-Yet as plain as the fact of at- tention seems to be from first to last, attention is not given prominence by all psychologists. Some regard it as nothing more than the clearness, vividness, or distinct- ness of the mental content, that is, a given bit or moment i For an analysis of discrimination, see James, Principles, Vol. I, Chap. XIII. 93 94 General Psychology within the stream of consciousness.2 There is no element in us that attends or associates what has attracted atten- tion. Attention, in its various grades or levels, is simply greater or lesser degrees of clearness. In brief, attention occurs when some object or process in the outside world is followed by action due to the presentation, wrhen move- ment follows stimulus.3 Consciously, what we know is only the action upon presentation, the various sensations and the affective states which accompany them. For other psychologists attention is elemental, can not be described, but should be recognized in its full reality with relation to its objects, conditions, and results, as natural or instinctive and acquired or voluntary.4 For James attention is one of the great characteristics of our inner life, central in importance, so that his psychology might almost be called a psychology of attention. Without analysis of attention one can scarcely understand the will at all. The study of attention according to the clues which James's psychology yields, is likely to be convincing, unless we care more for mere theoretical consistency than for the given realities of the mind as a whole. From any point of view, it is plain that attention is in the first place given or immediate, that is, due to the presentation of objects which attract consciousness by their clearness or vividness. Hence attention in simple or native form is the focusing of certain impressions, while others remain in the margin or fringe of consciousness; and its vividness appears to be dependent on the condi- tions of the brain.5 Simple motor experience probably develops the attitude of attention; and so attention in general is shown in our motor attitude (preparatory to action, ready for the word "Go!"), in our muscular ad- justment or tension, which enables us to receive impres- sions better. Again, we note that attention is "explora- tory, ' ' its natural stimulus being anything novel or sudden, 2 Cf. Yerkes, Introduction, p. 293. 3 See Titchener, An Outline of Psychology, pp. 138, 250. 4Cf. Miss Calkins, First Book, Chap. VI. 5 See Warren, Elements, p. 128; but see Woodworth's objection, Psychology, p. 269. Attention and Will 95 anything that excites curiosity or expectancy; and its in- stinctive reaction is by means of exploratory movements.8 Its inherent impulse is therefore to examine or await, to follow stimuli which enlist response, and prepare the way for more specific acts of attention based on previous ex- perience, when attention has become more selective. In Carpenter's terms, attention passes from passive recipiency to active recipiency; the habit or fixity of attention is at first purely automatic, and is due to the attraction of the object; but active recipiency can be augmented, reduced or suspended, and we may pay attention to what is pass- ing outside or to what is going on inside. Thus increase in discriminative power is secured by concentration: some minds need to fix, others to mobilize attention. Factors of Attention.-Analysis of the development of attention shows us that change is the greatest factor (Woodworth). A steady noise ceases after a while to be noticed, but if it changes in any respect it at once arrests attention. Strength, or high intensity of a stimulus, is another factor, as in the case of a loud noise or a bright flash. Repetition is brought constantly into use by those who wish to engage our attention, for instance, on bill- boards. Striking quality is observable in the case of satu- rated colors, high notes. Definite form arouses attention where vagueness would fail. In time habits of attention are developed with reference to what is worth noticing; and, by contrast, habits of inattention, the shifting of attention in relation to movement, brightness, color, definite form. This brings us to the investigation of sus- tained attention, which Wood worth defines as "a reaction- tendency, aroused to activity by some stimulus or other, unable to reach its goal instantly, but persisting in activity for a while and facilitating responses that are in its line, while inhibiting others. ' '7 Interest.-James simplifies the study for us by show- ing that interest is the primary factor.8 "My experience is what I agree to attend to. " It is only those items which 6 See Woodworth, op. cit., p. 244. 7 Op. cit., p. 257. 8 Principles, Vol. I, p. 402. 96 General Psychology I notice that shape my mind. Interest makes experience more than it is made by it. Consciousness, at all points primarily a selecting agency, is always in close contact with some interest felt by consciousness to be paramount at the time. Hence we see why focalization or concentra- tion takes place. Attention not only selects but inhibits or checks, emphasizes or reinforces by "slowly cumulative strokes of choice." Thus in its characteristic activities we find that it is elemental, implied in consciousness all the way along; basic, hence resolvable into types of experi- ence or levels which we then explain more intelligibly. It makes itself known because we actually find ourselves giving heed, focusing oui' thought, taking possession of one out of what seem to be several simultaneously possible objects or trains of thought. It is known too by contrast with what we call mind-wandering, absent-mindedness; by reference to its results, its practical values or conse- quences; by its types.9 Voluntary Attention.-The significant point in the classification with reference to objects of sense or ideal representations, immediate or derived, passive or active and voluntary, is that "voluntary attention is always de- rived,that is, we make effort to attend to an object be- cause of some remote interest served by the effort. There is then no such experience as voluntary or sustained at- tention kept up for more than a few seconds at a time. We give attention systematically only by repeatedly bring- ing our thought back to the subject each time it wanders, that is, by successive acts or efforts. For we are unable to attend to an object unless change enters into our ex- perience of it. In other words, we develop a subject by passing from point to point, detail to detail, persisting in our interest, concentrating upon our objective. This ability to bring back a wandering attention, over and over again, is, in James's account, "the very root of judgment, character, and will." It is not then that at- tention makes a man a genius, but that a man's genius leads him to be uncommonly attentive according to his 9 For exercises, see Seashore, op. cit., p. 120. Attention and Will 97 special interest and the power of analysis which this in- terest implies. Effects of Attention.-The effects of attention are that we are able to perceive, conceive, distinguish, remember, and that attention shortens time.10 It is the object actively attended to that remains in the memory. Expectant at- tention and sensation are in certain connections continuous or identical processes. Concentrated attention accelerates perception, while the perception of a stimulus is retarded by anything that either baffles or distracts attention.11 It is a primary fact that "men have no eyes but for those aspects of things which they have already been taught to discern." That is, what we ordinarily perceive is what we have already preperceived. To make way for a possible alternative interpretation, James develops the idea of derived attention as if it could explain all the activities of attention. Derived attention appears to be an effect. We attend to those things which come to us in their own ways. Attention creates no ideas, but gives heed to ideas already present. In our voluntary acts of attention there are momentary arrests, coupled with a peculiar feeling; yet the arresting force may be only in the processes by which portions of the streams of con- sciousness collide. It does not appear to follow that our effort in attending is "an original faculty," or force in addition to the others of which brain and mind are the seat. Dynamic Attention.-Yet James also argues that the turnings of attention are the nucleus of our inner self. If attention wrere always compelled, determined, there would by no real act on the part of the self. But if will or volition is "nothing but attention," when an act really springs from the self there must be a principle of spiritual activity or spontaneity in the fiat or effort. Hence we seem to believe on good grounds that volition is ours, is efficacious. It is to the effort to attend that we ascribe 10 See Principles, Vol. I, p. 424. 11 For the adjustments which occur in the attentive process, see ibid., p. 434. 98 General Psychology spontaneous power, the 11 feeling of real decisions." It is therefore important to ask just what the effort to attend would accomplish if it were an original force. As usual, James puts stress on that experience which actually seems to us to be real or decisive, on "the whole feeling of reality, the whole sting and excitement of our voluntary life," which depends on our sense that "in it things are really being decided from one moment to another, and that it is not the dull rattling off of a chain that was forged innumerable ages ago." This appearance may not be an illusion. On ethical grounds James counts himself among those who believe in a spiritual force. He finds the effect-theory an argument from analogy drawn from phenomena where consciousness does not appear to exist at all. His discussion is further strengthened by his con- vincing chapter on the will. McDougall puts emphasis on a primary difficulty in the case of psychologies which disregard attention in its more active phases.12 Psychologists who treat sensations, per- cepts, and ideas statically, forthwith regard attention as a substantive, a thing which makes sensations or ideas more intense, clearer, more prominent in consciousness, by sin- gling out this or that characteristic; hence they drop back into the old facultative psychology, and attention is said to do this or that. But, in addition to the fact that there is only one agent in all forms of mental activity, the self or subject, the significant fact is that it is the dynamic character of attention that yields the clue. Mental activ- ity should be regarded as a cyclic process, a series of cycles of activity, each of which begins with some cogni- tion, as the self recognizes or thinks of some object. This cognition evokes the impulse to effect a change, the striv- ing (conation) brings further cognition; and the self con- tinues to strive, varying the nature and direction of effort, according to the results. One does not then start with the assumption that pleasure or pain determine attention; for the conation is immediately determined by the cogni- tion. Pleasure and pain are seen as results, are de- 12 Outline, p. 265. Attention and Will 99 termined by the striving. Nor does affection initiate at- tention: attention is conation or striving considered from the point of view of its effects on cognitive processes. "The more strongly we strive to see, to hear, to under- stand, or in any way to achieve better or fuller cognition, the more attentive we are."13 The fundamental condi- tion of attention is the evoking of the energy within us in the form of the impulse of some instinct.14 It is not the intensity of sense-impressions which determines attention; as seen in the case of sudden sounds to which we pay no attention whatever, if we know their source and meaning. Does interest determine attention? Interest is plainly conative. Does interest depend on an idea? With char- acteristic emphasis, McDougall once more directs us to the instincts as the sources of impulse, that is, he empha- sizes the conative aspect of instinct; since knowledge about an object is not in itself, in his view, a condition of interest. The interest depends on the strength of the conative tendency excited, conative unity being the chief factor. Hence the measures of the degree of attention are (1) the efficiency with which the subject works toward his goal; (2) the resistance displayed to all diverting in- fluences.15 "The most effective effort of the will never achieves the high degree of concentration of attention which the awakening of any strong impulse immediately produces." The degree of resistance which the self offers in the presence of tendencies to diverted attention depends on the energy put into the pursuit or purpose in hand. This conclusion prepares the way for the study of char- acter as "the system of directed conative tendencies."16 McDougall's terminology is less realistic than that of James, but the student will note that James's doctrine of mental activity or spontaneity, in relation to attention, is intimately allied with McDougall's emphasis on conative energies due to instinct. ns Ihid., p. 272. 14 "For the bodily action in attention, see Seashore, p. 135. 15 Op. cit., p. 278. i® Op. cit., Chap. XVII. 100 General Psychology Derived Will.-The peculiar fact about will is that while it appears after mental life has proceeded for a while reflexively, instinctively, so that it seems to be secondary to the impulses, instincts, emotions, and their attendant desires; and although it is apt to be blindly self-assertive in early childhood, and in persons of an autocratic type always so; we nevertheless claim the right to make the will fundamental or central, ruler over the desires and passions, arbiter in our most intelligent decisions, the basis of character, the dynamic in all self-control, and the dynamic in the pursuit of our purpose in life. In short, will covers the entire series of activities from self-assertion and the ruling passion in crudest form to the highest moment of our prevailing love, so that we are all the while choosing between the way up and the way down, as alter- natives are put before us. If we choose lower passions or baser sentiments, our will is reinforced by the impulses and desires amidst which it appears in its early ascent. If we choose higher things, we can be reinforced on higher levels of selectiveness. Much depends on our view of the will and its functions, on what the will is, and how it operates. For we learn what we may or can do by discovering what we have done, by observing the tendencies of our impulses and habits, our desires or dispositions, our temper, prevailing emo- tions, conflicting desires; what in brief we may expect of ourselves, and what we must do to outwit unruly tenden- cies. James reminds us that "we learn all our possibilities by the way of experience," by recurring images of what we have done. These images in turn give us ideas for future performances. The Will to Decide.-The mere acceptance of an idea which we cling to as a wise one to realize is in itself an act of will. When I see myself in imagination attaining a certain end, and launch myself with energy in its di- rection, if no resistance offers itself to be first overcome, my volition is likely to set other activities in motion. Our anticipations in general tend to make us ready for what we are about to do. Sometimes we merely see the reason- Attention and Will 101 ableness of a course of action, again we merely consent to a plan, yield or acquiesce, perhaps for the sake of harmony or when urged, through weakness, imitation, al- legiance to fashion or custom. Fear is often expectant attention developed by dwelling on what we are anxious about, hence it may amount to auto-suggestion. Yet the act of giving attention as surely implies will, though inad- vertently; for instance, when we weigh alternatives for a time, wait, try again to reach a decision, finally decide, then prepare to meet opposition where much effort is re- quired to overcome resistance. Or, again, a decision may be "arbitrary," as we say, may involve a choice which we simply plunge in and make when everything points the other way, or when all the arguments are equally balanced for and against. To achieve one's private end, kept as much to one's self as possible, one may rule any number of considerations out of court, suppress reasons, ignore facts, disguise motives, simply will to follow a cer- tain course contrary to all pleas, advice, precedents. Essence of Will.-By the term "will" then we pre- cisely mean that aspect of experience which no statement can seem to make clearer. We know that when an idea is presented to us, acceptance of it depends solely on our- selves. The act of will is that act which no one can pos- sibly perform for us. This is as true in matters of thought as in affairs of conduct. Your will is your own power to decide even when, pushed to the wall, you yield because apparently forced to: the moment of yielding or acknowl- edgment is once more an act of will. In any event the volition occurs when the obstacles or inhibitions are re- moved. For although "every idea is motor," although "beliefs are rules for action," not one in ten finds ex- pression in a deed, and our interest lies in the conditions amidst which one idea is given emphasis or preference over others. Consciousness, James ever reminds us, "is always impulsive," is dynamic. But it is also complex and inhibitory. Ideas do not choose and organize them- selves. Nor is the dynamic an added element which we must separate from idea or will. Life is so constituted 102 General Psychology by the great influx of experiences, rich in alternatives, that since "he who hesitates is lost" we guard ourselves against indecision, and give to one idea or plan a certain weight or emphasis which turns the scale, in contrast with the person with a "New England conscience" who inhibits too much. In most cases we cannot deliberate till we see all the reasons. So when trying to explain what we call "will" we are often at a loss to give reasons for our conduct, save on practical grounds in general. We adopt some plan in a purely tentative way, to see what happens; and sometimes we proceed blindly. Again, we seem to touch a higher level of energy and achieve the impossible, overcome all opposition, and find ourselves do- ing what people said we could not do. Or, actuated by a sense of duty, we make ourselves do what wTe do not wish to do. Volition.-If we are to make our way in this complex situation and undertake a definition of will, we may limit the term for the moment to the capacity for ideo-motor activity, while volition is the experience which accompanies the action (Warren). To will to do a thing is to have a thought of the action, together with certain muscle sensa- tions of effort or memories of such sensations. The antici- patory image represents what we are going to do. It does not follow that the idea of the movement tends to produce that very movement, as if the idea actually directed the nerve impulse into the proper path; for there is no in- herited or natural connection between the idea of a given movement and its execution. Every idea tends toward some expression. But the exact sort is in the beginning a matter of chance.17 It may be any sort of movement, since there is no inherited adaptive connection in volition, as in the reflexes. The ideo-motor response is acquired, or learned through trial and error; the right response has to be selected. Hence volitional activity is distinguished by deliberation and choice. Warren's view does not, how- ever, take us beyond the statement that choice is due to the complexity of the nerve impulses, while deliberation i* See Warren, Elements, p. 275. Attention and Will 103 enables the fittest actions to result through changes in the central nerve impulses during the delay. Self-assertion.-Woodworth advances a stage toward a larger view by relating the will to both the internal con- flicts which make decision imperative and the response to external obstructions.18 Nothing then is so characteristic of will as the overcoming of resistance that checks progress towards a desired result. The resistance when internal may consist in one's lack of skill in executing one's intentions, or in the disturbing effect of a rejected desire which still pulls another way. Effort and determination appear to belong under the head of the assertive tendency. It is the obstruction which puts the individual on his mettle, and superimposes the mastery motive. But effort is not a good in itself, and intelligence in the sense of adaptabil- ity may take its place. Persistence plus adaptability is what is demanded. Miss Calkins also puts emphasis on the egoistic, impe- rious or domineering aspect of the will. "In will I am actively, assertively, related to my environment, am con- scious of my superiority and independence of it." 19 Will is a consciousness of my active connection with other selves or things, and includes, besides sensational factors, the consciousness of futurity, of connectedness, and of realness, of the harmony or congruence of one object with another, of my past with my present experience. Will then is to be understood with reference to its resident or remote ends; as choice, with or without effort; and as outer volition or inner volition. Conflict is due to an alternation in the tendencies or directions of self-assertive- ness, as the will comes into clashing relation with varying attitudes toward things or people. Self-development should bring a gradual reduction in the number of voli- tions and beliefs, the ideal being to attain volitions so comprehensive and beliefs so fundamental that one's par- ticular acts will follow one another as direct results of one's purpose. is Psychology, p. 535. 19 First Book, p. 226. 104 General Psychology Growth of Will-power.-This ideal of the triumph of will over adverse tendencies suggests Carpenter's view: that strength of will mainly depends on (1) the constancy with which it is exercised; (2) the ascendency of prin- ciples of action (reason) over impulses of passion or desire; (3) dependence on mental mechanism previously acquired (which grew to the mode in which will exercised it), i.e., this supplies a strong motive to the determination of the will. The measure of its exertion then is the sense of effort which we experience intentionally in exciting, directing, and restraining. The use of will-power is the means of increasing it.20 James contrasts healthiness of will with unhealthiness: in the former the vision is right, and the action obeys the vision's lead; while in the latter case it is either a pre- cipitate will or a will which is perverse, that is, obstructed or explosive. Ideal or moral action is " action in the line of the greatest resistance." How is such volition pos- sible? It consists of attention with effort: what we suc- ceed in doing is to attend to the difficult object, and to hold it before the mind, This attention-effort is the fiat which settles the issues. The strain of attention is the fundamental act of will, when we " consent to the idea's undivided presence. ' ' The presence of the idea which the will selects is suf- ficient then, and there is no need of a "feeling of inner- vation." Consciousness deserts processes where it is no longer of use, and such a feeling would be superfluous: the motor discharge ought to be devoid of sentience. The immediate antecedent of the volition is a mental cue. Given the anticipatory image, attended to with decisive- ness, the fiat is that these consequences shall become actual. The idea of the end to be attained tends then to become all-sufficient. To give attention to the means rather than the end, would be to fail of accuracy and certainty: "keep your eye on the place aimed at, and your hand will fetch it; think of your hand, and you will very likely miss your aim. ' ' 20 Mental Physiology, p. 424. Attention and Will 105 Types of Decision.-Volition is, of course, less simple when deliberate action is required to settle conflicts be- tween contrasted ideas, that the chosen one, the reason or motive, may bring about decision.21 On the one hand is impatience of the deliberative state, desire to end it somehow; on the other dread of the irrevocable, which may engender a type of character incapable of prompt and vigorous resolve. James distinguishes five types of decision: (1) through reasoning; (2) through external determination, when the evidence is all in; (3) through internal determination; (4) through changes of mood, when we suddenly pass from the easy and careless to the sober and strenuous; (5) through effort, the feeling that the evidence is all in and that reason has the balance may or may not be present: in any event "we feel, in decid- ing, as if we ourselves by our own willful act inclined the beam," by adding our "living effort" or a kind of "creative contribution." The immense majority of de- cisions are without effort. But the existence of the effort as a phenomenal fact in consciousness cannot be doubted or denied. In ordinary healthiness of will there is a cer- tain normal ratio in the impulsive power of different sorts of motive. The moral tragedy of life enters in when the link between vision of truth and action is ruptured. But when action follows vision we naturally infer that effort is an active force adding its strength to that of the motives which ultimately prevail. Yet the emphasis be- longs rather on the resistance which makes the effort great. So we return once more to that urgent state which is "able to compel attention and dominate in consciousness." Let it once so dominate, let no other ideas succeed in displacing it, and whatever motor effects belong to it by nature will inevitably occur-its impulsion . . . will man- ifest itself as a matter of course. . . . What checks our impulses is the mere thinking of reasons to the contrary -it is their bare presence to the mind which gives the veto, and makes acts, otherwise seductive, impossible to perform. If we could only forget our scruples, our doubts, 2i Op. cit., p. 528. 106 General Psychology our fears, what exultant energy we should for a while display!" 22 Definition of Will.-In contrast then with Warren's definition of the will as the capacity for ideo-motor activ- ity, James defines will as "a relation between the mind and its ideas." Volition is "a psychic or moral fact pure and simple, and is absolutely completed when the stable state of the idea is there." It is merely a physiological incident that when the will attends decisively, with that attention "with effort" which constitutes the fiat, imme- diate motor consequences should ensue. The real difficulty in such volition is to get the idea of the wise action to stay before the mind, to secure for reasonable ideas a quiet hearing. The idea to be consented to must be kept from flickering and going out, that it may steadily fill the mind. This filling of the mind by an idea, with its congruous associates, is consent to it and to what the idea represents; by affirming and adopting it through effort we secure its enforcement. James emphasizes the fact of consent be- cause the effort to attend, although "the first and funda- mental thing in volition," does not always cover the whole process: the mind must often in addition "express consent to the reality of what is attended to." 23 This definition removes will in its essence from the sphere of struggle to exert "will-power" as ordinarily understood, from its identification with crude "will-acts" or moments of muscular experience, or its confusion w'ith "feeling." The conception of will as in essence selective attention, expressing our interests and purposes, involves acute analysis on our own part in detecting the results of prior decisions which we are able to trace back to ideas made efficacious through quiet thought, rather than through volition which calls attention to itself. Will and affirmation appear to be almost identical. Yet our account of this process can hardly be called complete until, in later chapters, we have considered the relation of will to the "ruling passion" or "prevailing love." If it is what 22 Ibid., p. 559. 23 Ibid. p. 568. On the question of free-will, see p. 569. Attention and Will 107 we love most that enlists will, the real question is, What is the nature of the self as made manifest through its ruling love? Summary.-Attention is fundamental, elemental; im- plied in all processes of discrimination, analysis, synthesis, volition, thought. It is discovered amidst experience, as interest arises, when change enters in, when stimuli be- come stronger; through repetition, the presence of striking qualities, definite forms. It gives focus to consciousness as a selective agency, discloses choice, develops with our purposes; but is limited by what we have agreed on or preperceived. It appears to be wholly derived, but as voluntary may involve a principle of spiritual activity, may be dynamic. In another aspect it is will, which appears in contrast with impulse, instinct, desire; and manifests itself as selective in high degree, or as personal, assertive, sometimes arbitrary, growing by use. In other terms its essence is idea or mental cue, involving various types of decision. It is also "effort," power to overcome resistance, to be constant, achieve its end. But the em- phasis belongs more on consent than on mere effort. It is what holds attention that becomes an act of will, and this implies, in a more interior sense, our prevailing love. REFERENCES James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Chaps. XI, XIII: Vol. II, Chap. XXVI. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, pp. 382, foil., 442. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chap. XX. Warren, H. C., Elements of Human Psychology, Chap. XII. Seasiore, C. E., Introduction to Psychology, Chap. IX. CHAPTER VII THOUGHT Thus far in our inquiry we have been noting the dif- ferences which analysis discloses in mental life, as ele- ments are singled out, processes described, laws and con- ditions discriminated. In the terms which James uses two kinds of knowledge thus come into view: (1) knowledge of acquaintance, disclosed by sense-experi- ence, knowledge of the color "blue," for instance; and (2) knowledge-about, which we arrive at through our thought. The first kind includes all the elementary na- tures of the world, the simple qualities of matter and mind, with the kinds of relation that subsist between them; the second kind of knowledge increases with analy- sis, arrived at by giving separate attention to each of the parts of which a thing is composed. Discrimination.-Thus in the confused mass with which sense-experience begins relations are discerned, also varied aspects, meanings, kinds, forms, necessary connec- tions, as interest and attention develop our objects into clearness. James lays it down as a fundamental principle that "any total impression made on the mind must be unanalyzable, whose elements are never experienced apart."1 If all cold things were wet, and all wet things cold, for instance, we probably would never discriminate between coldness and wetness. If we have previously become acquainted with a single quality or constituent of an object isolatedly, so that we have an image of it, then we may analyze that element out from the total impression. Attention by means of separate imagination 1 Principles, Vol. I, p. 502. 108 Thought 109 is then the condition of analysis. The same things which arouse the perception of difference usually arouse that of resemblance also, although some people are more sensi- tive to resemblances than others are-the wits, poets, in- ventors, men of science, the practical geniuses of the world. James puts this ability to detect resemblances with discrimination, retentiveness, and association as the ultimate foundation-pillars of the intellectual life. Apperception.-Thought passes through various stages in the process of discrimination. Simple perception is defined as "the immediate identification and distinction of an object presented to the senses, whether this be a simple sensible quality, like red or blue, or a complex thing, having a multiplicity of parts and of sensible qual- ities, each of which is capable of being separately identi- fied. " 2 In the case of complex perception, we note that a thing has a definite configuration in space, a plurality of locally distinguished parts; a plurality of qualities per- ceptible by means of different senses; that it passes through a number of changes in time.3 The higher stage is called apperception by psychologists who do not explain away discrimination in mechanical terms as mere "asso- ciation." By apperception is meant the discerning of essential similarities between objects which we have ah ready learned to distinguish (McDougall), in the case, for example, of a child who has learned to think of plants as a distinct class of things. Discrimination involves the discovery of differences, while apperception is the discov- ery of similarities, and in due time the forming of abstract ideas. Sometimes the process of apperception is explicit, again it is implicit or intuitive: when we have an impres- sion of a certain indefinable quality, and find ourselves unable to give our reasons for the synthetic product.4 Apperception is defined by Stout as "the process by which a mental system appropriates a new element, or otherwise receives a fresh determination. ' '5 2 Stout, Analytic Psychology, Vol. II, p. 4. 3 Ibid., p. 18. * Cf. McDougall, Outline, pp. 382, 383, 391. 5 Ibid., p. 112. 110 General Psychology Idea.-By a "thought" we often mean a mere moment of cognitive consciousness. By an "idea" we mean a sig- nificant or suggestive thought or group of thoughts. Guarding against the tendency to regard an idea as an entity, combining mechanically with other ideas to form an association, we may assign new values to the term by noting how an idea occurs to us, out of the stream of thought, how it gains meaning through attention (con- ation) as a dynamic factor. An idea is illuminating or constructive. Flashing upon us as a culmination of long processes of groping or of uninspiring work, it clarifies, implies induction. Or, coming prior to a period of work, it affords a clue which we follow systematically in detail till the general principle is verified. The given idea changes as we develop its implications, like an architect's plan which grows upon his hands. The impetus it brings is a considerable part of its value, as it passes through successive judgments, becomes a conception, is rationally demonstrated. In less technical language it is an ideal, and we well know that our ideals are modified as they modify us. Ideals, worths, values have significance through what they lead to; we are never able adequately to explain them by their mere origin. Technically speak- ing, a sequence of ideas involves a higher level of cognitive consciousness than even a complex perception,6 that is, the existence of an inward train of mental imagery pre- supposes an interest over and above the actual presenta- tion of objects thought about, an end, objective, or pur- pose which gives unity to the train of ideas. Belief.-Our experience of objects when interpreted makes us aware of the difference bet-ween (1) illusions, fancies, tales about objects; and (2) existent things which we take to be real in space, time, and other relations as conceivably there for all men with normal perception. When we believe in an object as "real," we accept various propositions regarding it, and develop these into a convic- tion which we are prepared to sustain. To believe in a person is to be prepared to defend him. Thus belief im- 6 Cf. Stout, ibid., p. 31. Thought 111 plies the fundamental presence of cognitive dispositions (McDougall), the mental state of cognizing reality (James). According to James, belief is a "feeling" allied more to the emotions than to anything else, and the "reality feeling" is a term used by psychologists of various schools to indicate acceptance of presented objects as real. When we believe a thing we "consent" to its existence in such a way as to drop agitation, doubt, inquiry concerning its opposites, once said to exist. The mind adopts a certain attitude in regard to objects believed in, an attitude which Miss Calkins describes as "the assertive attitude of a self to an impersonal object." 7 Thus while a man has "faith" in his father, his physician, his fellow student or in God; he believes in the necessity of tariff reform, the doctrine that acquired characters are inherited, the dogma of the inspiration of the Bible. The object of belief is always an object congruent with its environment. Belief is "reality feeling" plus the images which make us sure that certain of our images and thoughts are true (War- ren). The attitude implied in this .acceptance of outer objects as real is, in James's terms, a state of conscious- ness sui generis which internal analysis will not make more clear.8 The question is, Under what circumstances do we regard things as real? Our Mental Worlds.-We refer belief to a world of thought, a world of sense or physical "things" as we have already come to conceive them; the world of science, which yields "things" in terms of sense qualities and forces, solids, fluids, and their laws of motion; of ideal relations or abstract truths, expressed in logical, mathe- matical, metaphysical, ethical, or aesthetic propositions; of the "idols of the tribe," illusions or prejudices common to the race; of various types, supernatural faiths; as well as the worlds of individual opinion, or of sheer madness and vagary. Thus we refer every object believed in to the realm in which it belongs according to our acceptance of common sense, science, myth, or what not. Our domi- i First Boole, p. 245. 8 Principles, Vol. II, p. 286. 112 General Psychology nant habits of attention lead us to elect from among the various worlds the one which, for us, is the world of ulti- mate realities, or the world of "practical realities." Thus, in James's definition, the reality chiefly believed in simply means "relation to our emotional and active life," the world which excites and stimulates our interest; or, more strictly in some cases, the world of things which we "select and emphasize and turn to with a will." Tests of Belief.-Hence the conclusion follows that our own reality, "that sense of our own life which we at every moment possess, is the ultimate of ultimates for our belief." This means that belief in the reality of sense- experiences is paramount: we make the existence of sen- sible realities the test, and refuse to believe in conceived objects unless they show sense-effects.9 In the last analysis we believe in the reality of objects because of "sensible vividness or pungency" as the vital factor. McDougall emphasizes the factor of confidence, which is belief on the intellectual plane, and grows up gradually with intellect- ual development,10 overcomes doubt, issues in judgment. Doubt is also converted into belief by reasoning: we are not dependent on perception alone (emphasized first and last by James), but communication fosters belief, and reason advances on the basis of previously established be- liefs. Hence belief is prevailingly a cognitive process, although the conative factor also plays an essential part in each of the modes of arriving at belief. Interest sends us forward to detect the identity of an approaching figure. Desire, reinforced by pleasurable anticipation of the desired goal, is a motive; while in doubt or anxiety the impulse is checked. Beliefs come in time to be enduring features of our mental structure. Having striven to acquire them, by avoiding errors and delusions, persisting despite all doubts, steadily trying to arrive at true judg- ments, we accept them as knowledge, and incorporate them into systems, and systems of systems. 9 See op. cit., p, 300, for list of qualities by which an object secures belief. 10 Outline, p. 364. Thought 113 We note also what James has called "the will to be- lieve." Because of our practical, ethical, metaphysical, and other interests, we agree to start somewhere and end somewhere, and to develop the implied beliefs into a creed or system. In some people, will is the determining factor, not necessarily in a superficial way, but because for pur- poses of science or of "values" we must at some point limit our disciplines. The test of belief may therefore be its congruence with the facts and principles within the chosen system, rather than its accordance with things in space and time. The psychology on which James insists is verifiable by reference to the stream of thought as you and I know it, but the psychology w'hich for Miinsterberg was "scientific" was that theory which harmonized con- ceptually with the data decided upon as eligible, all other subject-matter being ruled out as "unscientific." In the same way we rule out what would upset our theology, and refuse to examine the first postulates of belief. Hence custom, convention, tradition limits what we adopt as items of faith.11 Nature of Thought.-Thought is sometimes contrasted with "matter" as possessing greater value, or with "re- ality" as somehow less real than things in space and time. Again, it is used as a synonym for ' ' consciousness, ' ' and "the stream of thought" becomes the central interest in a whole system. In this usage it runs over into the domain of feeling, emphasis is put on feelings and emo- tions where some would put it on judgment and the ac- ceptance of propositions. In popular usage thought is apt to be whatever idea happens to be suggested, as one item of thought leads to another. For the untrained mind "thinking" simply means following association wherever it may lead, either to a similar thought, to one that is contiguous, or one that occurs to mind because it is recent or interesting. The ordinary mind knows little about con- trolled or consecutive thought. Even the trained indi- vidual may suppose that sustained attention is continuous. ii On the nature of faith, see Miss Calkins, op. cit., Chap. XIII. We shall return to the subject of custom and tradition in Part Four. 114 General Psychology In day-dreaming or reverie the mind is relatively qui- escent or contemplative, and simply observes ideas as they flit, although a contemplative mood may lead to the pur- suit of a reverie during a considerable period. Sometimes a relatively passive state is favorable for the development of ideas in so far as they disclose "insight." Periods of silence or expectancy are cultivated by some, so that at the favorable moment an inspirational thought may be held before the mind long enough to make a beneficial im- pression. Hence thought is sometimes distinguished as affirmation or "suggestion," a subject to which we shall return later. The trained mind prefers analysis to con- templation, even at its best. In fact, thought in the sense of classified knowledge begins with analysis, definition, criticism, doubt; and leads to the formulation of prin- ciples, to comparison, synthesis, understanding, reason. For psychologists thought is usually a distinctive process, although it is dependent on perception, imagery, associ- ation, habit. Thought is distinguished from presentation by the fact that it builds upon perception yet departs from it, advances from the particular to the general, from percepts to concepts (universals) ; it breaks with mere as- sociation, habit, custom, tradition, becomes highly critical, raises objections, questions presuppositions; thrives on the comparison of its own products; becomes a clarifying "idea." Thought is related both to objects of sense, to the varied sense-experiences from which its materials are derived; and to inner objects (objects of thought, trains of ideas) selected in accordance with beliefs or a point of view. Or, it is explicitly connected with the self as thinker, as essentially "relational consciousness" referring to groups of objects classified and organized in pursuance of the self's meanings. Thought is frequently described as a type of experience akin to language, and much space is devoted to the ques- tion whether thought can proceed without words, although it appears to be much the same as language. Thought is ordinarily regarded as symbolical, representative, or imitative. Based on imagery and motor sensations, on Thought 115 experience of "things" in space, it endeavors to por- tray things so that further references to the things in question will lead to identification. Since ideas are origi- nally due to perception, every idea tends to motor expres- sion; ideas are instrumental, pragmatic, serve as short- hand accounts for the mass of things presented to us in the universe. Push the relation of ideas to habit as far as possible, and you come to behaviorism once more, with its description of thinking as "subvocal talking" involv- ing "language habits" which are said to be "bodily sets or attitudes." Warren's admirable diagram, disclosing three mental levels, enables one graphically to classify thought with relation to the facts of behavior and sense-experience, so that thought is restored to its distinctive place.12 Thought has modes of conducting itself, as concerned with com- munication, language, rational action, and the formulation of data derived from sense materials. The first thought in a series may be due to some external stimulus, and by implication there are always references to perceptual ex- perience, just as there is always a cerebral process corre- sponding to "the stream of thought." But our interest lies in following out the sequences of thought in its own sphere, and it is of minor interest that a corresponding brain activity is in process. Thoughts are not direct re- sults of stimuli, without the aid of imagery, perception, association. Sudden noises break in on our thought processes and remind us how remote our consciousness may be from the world of sense, in our abstraction. Bodily states may intervene, notably in the case of pain; and thought is often sharply contrasted with the distractions which we keep out of mind as persistently as we can. When the organism is in good condition and we have a feeling of general well-being, thought is relatively free, despite the dependence of the mind on the brain, the limitations and interruptions amidst which it is carried on; and its tendencies to become casual, when we wish it to be steadily rational. Although sense-processes appear 12 Elements, p. 303. 116 General Psychology to move among items that are much more distinct-a sen- sation of red, noise, light, smell-thought's objects become intensely real for the believer: we fight for our ideas, defend our prejudices, hold to our point of view against all objections, and project our theories into the world (the pathetic fallacy). The Stream of Thought.-The comparison between thought-processes and a stream is undoubtedly the most vivid illustration. No psychologist's description of con- sciousness is so verifiably real as that of James, with its emphasis on incessant change, sensible continuities, ob- jective references, and productive choices.13 This is a description to be read and reread till its chief points be- come part of the substance of our own thought. Yet all illustrations or analogies fail at some point, and James is not consistent throughout. The comparison aids in the process of discarding the notion that an idea or thought is a fixity, that we have the same idea twice, that thought stays in position. It makes real the successive psychoses which modify our experience from moment to moment, even while we try to seize upon an item of special interest. It shows also that there are resting-places, or substantive parts which have special value for us in connection with decisive moments of attention. The transitive parts disclose "feelings of tendency" which show that thought has a life of its own, a life which we may contemplatively follow or endeavor to direct. If we give due heed to what James calls the "psychic overtone, suffusion or fringe," it may not be necessary to accept the hypothesis of the subcon- scious; since the term "marginal consciousness" may enable us to classify all less-conscious moments. Yet one might overdo the comparison and fail to lift thought from its fluid state. When James examines the hypothesis of the soul and leaves us with the conclusion that "thought itself is the thinker,"14 we seem no nearer a solution of the central problem than when ideas were regarded as entities. Thought is indeed apt to be the thinker when we simply follow where association leads. 13 Principles, Vol. I, Chap. IX. i* Ibid., p. 401. Thought 117 By controlled thought we mean not the given sequences which float along, but the directfwe activity wherewith we pursue our meanings; we emphasize the dynamic as- pect of thought. James gives a better account of this activity when discussing attention and will than in his description of thought. Thought does not merely arrest attention, induce interest; we select trains of thought to develop in the direction of our purposes. Attention not only reinforces; it inhibits other lines of thought, foster- ing a cognitive interest which has positive selective value. As James interprets attention in terms of will it becomes the spiritual activity of a self; and our belief in reality implies the conviction that the self, with its subjective depths, its emotional reactions, its will to emphasize and select, depends on our conviction concerning the self. Cognition.-It is important to avoid confusing the act of thinking of an object with the enduring conditions which render possible the thinking of that object.15 The activity of thought (cognition) is in a measure in contrast with "the stream of thought" wherein the intellect finds its suggestive ideas: we need McDougall's term "cognitive disposition" to suggest purposive activity accompanying the stream and implying something more than the given fluidity, namely, the structure which thought progressively rears. "We may then properly speak of "systems of dispositions" due to the very complex struc- ture of the mind. The function of cognition is regarded as "the essence of mental life," present wherever mind is active, at the bottom of the scale of evolution as well as in the highest moments of conceptional synthesis. It is this act of knowing which develops the observed and selected items of thought, which gives us the clue for all our thinking about the mind; instead of the former em- phasis on "sensations" and "ideas" as things done to the mind. It is this activity which builds up the structure of knowledge: the cognitive dispositions determine the contents of our knowing, as the conative dispositions de- termine the forms of our striving. Hence the emphasis 15 Cf. McDougall, Outline, p. 259. 118 General Psychology belongs on the functional connections or centers of func- tional activity-intellect and character. Intellect.-Most of us have an extremely vague idea of the intellect. Trained by tradition, we uncritically assume that it is native or original, large in extent, and decisive in many respects where decision belongs rather to attention, action, and will. It is said to be "the mind" or "the head" in contrast with the warmer, more sym- pathetic, intuitive "heart." But we disparage as often as we praise it, failing to relate it definitely with the understanding, with intelligence, and reason. Adopting McDougall's view of mental structure, with emphasis on the activity which cognizes the succession of processes but is more than the stream or mere succession, we do not define intellect as a mere product of an indi- vidual's perceptions and ideas of the outer world. It is the cognitive structure of the developed human mind; comprises a vast number of dispositions for distinguishing, analyzing, classifying, conceiving, reasoning; and it in- cludes intelligence. It is contrasted with character; since a man may be strong in character, though weak in intellect; or of vigorous intellect while weak in character. A man of learning is not necessarily "intelligent," if by intelligence possessed in high degree we mean insight or ability to make illuminating and constructive use of our learning. An intellectual person is not necessarily spiritually minded, or morally upright in all his ways. McDougall means by intelligence ' ' the capacity for making new adap- tations," in contrast with structure or intellect.16 Ex- cellence of intellect therefore involves good intelligence working by means of a rich and well-organized structure of thought. A man might have good intelligence in the sense of high capacity, but a poor intellect, not enriched by the acquisition of knowledge, or not logically organized. These distinctions are to be borne in mind when we come to the question of intelligence tests. Intelligence is too often regarded as mere information, as if the ability to make new adaptations counted for extremely little. See Outline, p. 379. Thought 119 The mind as thus described on its intellectual side is very far from being the whole mind, the native mind, or the dominant one save in a few people. The intellect is by no means a "faculty," and as a structure it is in process of change. For high native intelligence is, in Mc- Dougall's terms, capable of multiplying itself or its ef- ficiency the more it is exercised and perfects the instru- ments through which it works. Thus it may perpetually differentiate, define, specialize, and reorganize as one grows in understanding and acquires wisdom, as one's intellect- ual operations are made more effective. The aim is to or- ganize the various cognitive dispositions into a coherent system.17 If we were really to devise a test of superior intelligence we would need then to work from the top down, judge by the higher products of the human mind in its constructive interpretations of the universe, taking insight as our standard. Reason.-The term "reason" has frequently been put in contrast with the mere understanding, and many claims for it have been put forward which belong to metaphysics to consider. We sometimes "understand" in the sense of knowing causes, we are able to explain but not interpret. To reason is not alone to put item with item in a familiar field of inquiry, so that we see into a thing well enough for practical purposes; it is to have ability to deal with new situations, put them in intelligible relations, and proceed to develop their implications and meanings-mean- ings which the mind brings to its data. In an ideal sense reason in us corresponds with reason in the nature of things, and we believe ourselves capable of developing our conceptional systems till they shall bear the test. We are also interested in the logical implications of a given theory of first principles, in the comparison of concepts; and logic as one of the special disciplines holds many in- terests which need to be considered by themselves, al- though psychology has done its best to cover the whole "life of reason." Most of the standard works on psy- chology include brief excursions into logic, to show what it For the stages of this process, see op. cit., p. 382, foil. 120 General Psychology formal reason is.18 Reason is in highest measure selective, chooses "essences," extracts those characters which are significant for the system in question; and by its selective power develops meanings which were not apparent in the original data. Hence we look from the products or great generalizations which men of science make to the men themselves to learn how they came by their insights, what intelligence or sagacity means, why some minds have such power to break with presuppositions and adopt a radically different point of view. Reason and Instinct.-We need not classify any other power as baser or "lower," to find a worthy place for reason. Philosophers (from Hume's time on) who have found reason to be " a sort of instinct ' ' have been on sure psychological ground in their insistence that it is what is native, what our nature desires which sends us forth even in our rational pursuits.19 Psychologists who, with James and McDougall, conceive the human mind chiefly in terms of instincts and emotions, do not necessarily discount reason: they aid in breaking up the tradition that reason is an original entity, not an ideal to be striven for. Ex- perience yields "problems" which instinct is unable to meet. The instinctive disposition does little more than set our minds at work to find a practical solution.20 Again, we instinctively begin to argue, or to justify ourselves; and so "rationalization" in its lesser meanings comes into being. There is an instinct of curiosity which sends us forth in quest of explanations: philosophy is said to have begun in "wonder." We readily guess at causes, propose mythical explanations; but presently scrutinize, doubt, seek for tests of truth and reality. Thus reason departs very far from appearances and in so doing departs from the instinctive dispositions which gave it impetus. We pro- pose hypotheses, then endeavor to verify them. Some men appear to have a genius for reasoning constructively, and this is in part due to native intelligence. But there 18 Cf. James, Principles, Vol. II, Chap. XXII. 19 Cf. McDougall, Outline, p. 214. 20 Cf. Woodworth, Psychology, p. 469. Thought 121 appears to be no good ground for sundering instinct and intelligence: as dispositions they at least appear side by side. Reason develops out of experience and with experi- ence, finds its data in experience, despite the fact that reason takes exception to experience in the case of idealistic systems of thought. The mind as a whole reacts upon life or the universe as a whole. Coordination.-Of what value is our knowledge of general psychology? The answer is to be found in our ability to establish connection between such principles as we have been considering and ordinary thought and life, so that we may identify and explain common-sense processes, typical attitudes, prevailing motives. Some text-books are so abstract, give so much space to informa- tion concerning cerebral processes, the sense-organs and the kinds and properties of sensation, that the student may well be at a loss to identify the description with the "mind" as he knows it. Other writers, for example, Sea- shore, Yerkes, introduce exercises calculated to help the student to psychologize; while James seeks to disclose the real mind which we all know so that we shall be able to verify his account by actual reference to experience. This constant reference to mental life should enable us to tell what is lacking in meager, highly technical books, and show why the "mind" as described by one writer seems so different from mind as another writer finds it. Thus in Seashore's book one may be at a loss to find the equiva- lent of "conation." Some writers begin and end with a study of bodily conditions, but for Miss Calkins physi- ological matters are mentioned at the close of chapters as "correlates." To coordinate, the student should be able to pass from "instinct," as technically described by psychologists who assign a prominent place to it, to its present equivalents in a much more highly developed social order; from "habit" to custom, creed, tradition; from "conation" to vital conflict between desires, "urge," libido as this term is used in psychoanalysis; from "affection" to the felt qualities of experience as we react to pleasure and pain; 122 General Psychology and one should learn to explain well-known promptings to action. What, for example, is pride psychologically speak- ing ? What is egotism ? How shall we describe a ' ' desper- ate mood"? Our actual experiences appear to be much more com- plex than psychological description would lead us to be- lieve. We seem rather far removed from simple emotion and simple motives of any kind. It appears to be rather a question of attitudes, which we are able to identify with what psychology tells us only in case we can pass, for in- stance, from Warren's study and classification,21 to atti- tudes as we find them actuating ourselves and our neigh- bors. In most of us the motivation appears to be sub- conscious. But how shall we establish connection between popular thought with its belief in the subconscious mind as a "storehouse" of experiences, the field of "sugges- tion," the source of inspiration; and what psychology teaches concerning instinct, habit, marginal consciousness, memory, and association? To coordinate we should bring to bear our knowledge of general principles so that we can describe and explain popular tendencies of thought and learn what is wrong with them, such as the belief that thought in the guise of "suggestion" is the chief efficiency of the human mind. Our study may have led to a very different view: thought may have come at last to occupy its distinctive place in relation to attention, will, and action so that we see what is meant by "the life of reason," and can distinguish formal thought (logic) from thought as given in its "stream." Thought, we find, is an instrument of marvelous precision in the hands of those who can define, categorize, and systematize; it erects great structures or systems, and systems of systems. The specialist is apt however to leave his particular discipline in such a form that we fail to see its connection with other disciplines. The connection seems fairly close between biology and some types of psychology, so that we readily pass to behaviorism from the study of behavior as biolo- gists have made us acquainted with it. The problem is 2i Elements, pp. 332, 334, 341. Thought 123 to coordinate behavior and conduct, and on the side of conduct to coordinate psychology with the social sciences. This will be our main interest in later chapters. Summary.-Thought is describable with reference to its (1) origins in sense-experience, simple and complex perception, discrimination, apperception; (2) conditions, in relation to cerebral processes, habit, association, mem- ory; (3) tests, applicability to situations in the external world to which it has reference, practical values; (4) meanings, in relation to concepts, judgments; (5) "stream" or course, involving significant changes and relations; (6) goals, in contrast with lowly origins, ends which it achieves through systematic reasoning, coordi- nation between theory and practice; (7) plans of action involving beliefs, the conviction that in its rational form it coheres with reality, is ultimately true; (8) organization as "intellect," the structure of cognitive dispositions, and realization of "intelligence" as capacity for meeting and interpreting new situations. REFERENCES Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, Chaps. IX, X, XIII. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chap. XVIII. Warren, II. C., Elements of Human Psychology, Chap. XIII. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, Chaps. XIV-XVI. James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, IX, XII, XIII; Vol. II, Chap. XXII. CHAPTER VIII TEMPERAMENT AND CHARACTER The old-time classification of temperaments into choleric, phlegmatic, sanguine, and melancholic has not entirely disappeared; interest in it has been revived in a measure on account of recent emphasis on secretions and glands. According to behaviorism, both temperament and character are biological terms for different phases of adaptation or adjustment. Watson classifies people with reference to types of reactors: the impulsive type is one which is im- mediately plunged into action by every stimulus; in the deliberative, one tendency to action is checked by a con- trary, and serviceable overt action takes place slowly if at all; the balanced is neither unduly impulsive nor un- duly deliberative.1 Watson holds that we should no longer divide men into mental workers and physical workers; for whatever the human animal is doing he is doing as a whole, there is "laryngeal work" even in thinking, and the term "brain-worker" is out of date. Warren suggests that if we define temperament as the permanent cast of the life of our internal senses, we have said nothing about a man's intellectual capacity in clas- sifying him, for example, as "phlegmatic."2 Chronic indigestion, over-development of one of the ductless glands, over-sensitivity to pain, or some other internal condition will affect the internal sense-life, and so may influence temperament; but the influence on the intellect may be slight. Temperament may be correlated with the modes of heart action, so that we shall have four types corre- sponding to the classic scheme; but it would be more i Op. cit., p. 332, 2 Elements, p, 350. 124 Temperament and Character 125 natural to base the classification on both the type of ac- tivity and the quality of feeling. An active motor phase combined with a pleasant feeling-tone would yield the sanguine temperament, for instance, while a passive motor phase combined with an indifferent feeling-tone would yield the phlegmatic. The choleric and melancholic tem- peraments imply practical handicaps in meeting situations which confront us in social life. As our thoughts affect our digestion, we might by deliberately cultivating cheer- ful attitudes develop a cheerful temperament. But the real solution would be to 1 'train our internal organs to work properly." Introverts and Extroverts.-Interest in psychoanalysis has led to a suggestive way to distinguish types in terms of the primitive biological function of thrusting out of the mind onto life in the normal individual. As stated by Tansley, following Jung, "extroversion" is seen in the use of the mind in practical affairs, the pouring out of the libido on external objects.3 "Introversion," which is the turning of the mind upon itself, involves a withdrawal from the external world, hence the development of an internal mental life. As the extrovert lives in and for the world, his interest is always projected upon it, his thought and feeling are at its service. But he may have little internal life, in contrast with the rich inner life of the introvert who, though absorbed in his own mental processes and cut off from the world around him, may have profound knowledge to contribute to the world. "Unless he can find some means of extroversion the intro- vert's mental life may be confined to a fantastic world of his own ideas and feelings, completely divorced from ex- ternal reality. He does not extrovert spontaneously and unconsciously like the opposite type. . . . But if he is successful his intervention in life is marked by a quality which the activities of the natural extrovert never pos- sess . . . "4 Satisfactory mental life of course calls for a certain balance between introversion and extroversion. 3 A. G. Tansley, The New Psychology, 1922, Chap. VIII. 4 Ibid., p. 103. 126 General Psychology Despite the fact that the structure on which these two tendencies are based is inherited, the extrovert can be taught when a child to reflect, to pause before taking action; while the introvert can be encouraged in every way to come out into the open, not to fear contact with the world but to use his powers for practical ends. Stable-minded and Unstable-minded Types.-Trotter describes the normal type as the stable-minded, abounding in energy, with strong will, resistant to experience, of pronounced opinions, and with much freedom of expres- sion, permitting of strong and smooth flow of psychic energy.8 A person of this type readily fits into social groups. If his mind is rigidly organized, he may be unadaptable, ill-fitted to cope with rapidly changing or highly influential conditions. Consequently as a conserv- ative a man of this type may be a real danger to society. Tansley finds the chief representatives of this extreme form of stable-mindedness among regular soldiers of the old school, clergymen, country squires and government officials. The unstable-minded type, according to Trotter, has the opposite characteristics, namely, pronounced sensitiveness to varied experience, and a facility of reaction with the instability which this responsiveness implies. Weakness of will and lack of persistence are signs of this type; also inconsistent or changing opinions, and unhappiness. But in contrast with the conservative the man of this stamp is readily adaptable to changing conditions, flexible in adjustment, and oftentimes intellectually superior to the stable-minded. Such an individual may be lacking in moral constancy, or at least subject to misunderstanding because less bound by conventions, inclined to carry changeability to the extreme. Here again the ideal type would involve a balance be- tween two tendencies. Without a union of these qualities, man's control over his environment is incomplete. Rigid- ity of mind and resoluteness in action may be as extreme 5 W. Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 1916, Chap. II. Temperament and Character 127 in their consequences as undue sensitiveness and lack of persistence in holding to a purpose. Another sort of training might have led to a highly productive combina- tion of imagination, sensitivity and reason in the growing mind. Trotter traces the unstable type to inner conflict due in part to social opposition, and to inability to use psychic energy to advantage. Tansley finds the stable- minded to be the ' ' typical herd-man, immersed in the con- ventional activities of the herd, generally contented and placid, untroubled by doubts or questionings." The stable-minded introvert is likely to be a weaver of fine- spun theories. The unstable extrovert, if a man of ability, might be a brilliant but untrustworthy politician, sensi- tive to new ideas and to waves of popular feeling, easily influenced and readily influencing others. The unstable- minded introvert might be a gloomy individual, ill-adapted to his surroundings, perplexed with life and troubled over himself. "The ideal mind would be introverted but with complete powers of extroversion, and would combine the perfect sensibility of the unstable with the energy and resolution of the stable type." Bodily Conditions.-Since we all have tendencies which conform to these new classifications, it is well to bear the above contrasts in mind in all temperamental studies. Ordinarily, there is much vagueness in the use of such terms as disposition, temperament and character; hence failure to distinguish between physical traits, mental qualities and moral characteristics. It is especially im- portant to discriminate between conditions attributable to the body, and emotional tendencies accompanying these: there may be an organic or functional tendency, such as weakness of the lungs, high blood pressure, chronic indi- gestion, or an extreme nervous tendency. Again, distinc- tions should be drawn between conditions or tendencies which do not appear to be within the control of the in- dividual, and those which belong under the head of possible self-control and probable development of character. It is partly a question then of the mental type which a per- son is trying to realize. 128 General Psychology Realizing the Type.-Temperament appears to be partly matter of habit, partly a question of tendencies which are in process, some waxing, others waning. We find people engaged in learning their type with no clear idea how to proceed, what tendencies to foster, what ones to modify. We find others who are trying to reform in general without distinguishing between relatively stable traits and those subject to modification through intelligent control. Still others complain of friends and associates on the supposition that temperament can be readily trans- formed. Most of our adverse judgments are due to fail- ure to discriminate between what is within a man's power, what not. We condemn with tacit assumptions regard- ing what people "ought to be." In judging psychologi- cally we should consider what stage of development people have reached in actual self-knowledge, since so much de- pends on changes in process, in case, for instance, people have learned some of the above discriminations, and have made headway in distinguishing between temperament and character. Disposition.-In relation to temperament, "disposi- tion" means certain aptitudes or inclinations, inherited and modified, so that a person is at present known, for example, as "amiable" or "irritable," inert or nervous, possibly pathological, with tendencies which should be offset or modified. One's disposition is the given combi- nation of racial tendencies, ancestral traits, and parental modifications with which one begins life; in contrast with "character," which is not necessarily determined or limited by disposition, and may partly result from a man's reaction on the sum of his instinctive tendencies. Our interest is to determine whether a given instinct, such as curiosity, appears to be innately strong or innately weak. If an instinctive tendency is decidedly strong, it is likely to characterize a man's disposition, as in one known as "pugnacious." Knowledge of his prevailing tendency should help a man to offset an undesirable trait by other tendencies so as to attain balance. An individual in whose character pugnacity, lust, gluttony, conceit, irri- Temperament and Character 129 tability, or vanity prevails, might have been taught in youth to counteract these dispositions. Temper.-By temper is meant something midway be- tween disposition and temperament, as in the man who has a fiery, or steadfast, a fickle, impulsive, hopeful, or a despondent temper. It is not a question of the relative strength of various dispositions, but of a quality which runs through tendencies in varied situations, whatever the impulse or motive. Hence McDougall, who interprets a man's temper in relation to his conative impulses, distin- guishes temper with reference to (1) strength, intensity, or urgency; (2) persistency; (3) affectability, or the de- gree in which the impulses are influenced by pleasure and pain.6 McDougall calls attention to the fact that some men are more liable than others to be diverted from their course of action, and to be prevented from returning to any sim- ilar line of action, "by the pain of difficulty and thwarting encountered; and to be more strongly sustained in their striving, and stimulated to renewed efforts along similar lines, by the pleasure that comes with progress and suc- cess; the temper of such men is of high affectability." Again, he points to the fact that the fiery, impatient, energetic man, when moved by impulse or desire to push through to his goal without rest, can not be said to have any less self-control than the placid man who proceeds in his own patient way to seek a goal. Persistence in rela- tion to impulses and desires is to be distinguished from strength or urgency. Men with urgent impulses are not necessarily noted for perseverance. Persistency may be cultivated to some degree, but it seems to be given in a man's innate constitution. Taking the three qualities mentioned by McDougall as our guides, we note that most men are classifiable as "equable" or ordinary. But in the exceptional man temper may predominate in sufficient degree so that we characterize him by it, in contrast with those who are less noticeably fiery, placid, sluggish, despondent, hopeful, 6 Outline, p. 353. 130 General Psychology anxious, dogged, obstinate, steadfast, or fickle. Granted knowledge of disposition and temper, we are prepared to undertake a more complex classification. Temperament.-This is plainly a more widely inclusive term covering various dispositions, peculiarities of physical organization, modes of feeling and behavior, ways of meet- ing life. Originally the theory of each of the classic types was divided into three parts: (1) certain observed external characteristics, such as the color of the hair or of the eyes, the shape of the face, length of the neck, build of the body; (2) certain qualities of character sometimes found to co-exist with these external appearances; (3) the alleged predominance of some bodily organ or system, as in the case of the "sanguine" or the "bilious" (also called the ardent or passionate). Hence the old emphasis on the "tempers," the association between anger and the "irascible" temper, also on the "sullen," "violent," or "peevish." The predominant temper was supposed to yield a certain "temperament," as in the case of the sanguine with its alleged connection with superficial optimism. Critics have pointed out a prime defect in the classic scheme, namely, that superficiality, depth, quickness, or slowness might be inferred to exist all along the line of a person's character, including the emotions and senti- ments, and such an inference would probably be highly misleading. Again, the scheme is based on the concep- tion of quantities indefinable in amount, for example, "very" superficial. Then too the types are artificial and exaggerated, do not represent real temperaments of men. If in judging character one is able to determine the pre- dominant temper, this would be one line of definite ap- proach. Glands.-If temperament is provisionally defined as the sum of the effects upon a man's mental life of the metabolic or chemical changes that are constantly going on in all the tissues of his body (McDougall), we are in a position to note the influence of the ductless glands, formerly supposed to be relatively inert and vestigial, Temperament and Character 131 without placing undue emphasis on the secretions (hormones or endocrines) which pass into the blood. Ex- cessive secretion in the thyroid gland would mean accelera- tion of the processes of the nervous system, with undue excitability. If the secretion of this gland is deficient, sluggishness would result. The effects of the secretion have been proved by the fact that the excess or defect may be completely counteracted. Other influences arise from the secretions of the pituitary and the sex glands. Psychology is in a position to assimilate our increasing knowledge of these factors of the organism without capitu- lating in favor of endocrinology, as if the control of the glands meant the regulation of personality. Differing' Traits.-Temperament being then a resultant of many factors natively determined in the main, although susceptible of modification by environmental influences and discipline, we note the effect of tendencies which com- bine to make a person buoyant, quick, slow, nervous, active, excitable, sluggish, melancholic, stable or unstable, an ex- trovert or an introvert; and then trace out the correspond- ing mental states and attitudes with reference to the main trend of the mind, its selectiveness, discrimination, habit- formation, and the like. The fact that no two people are alike in the combination of these elements, militates against an exact classification. Disposition means a certain com- bination of instinctive tendencies in which certain tend- encies may prevail on the whole. Temper is more or less predominant according to the balancing of its components. Temperament involves glandular and other factors in relation to mental associates, and is not to be understood apart from disposition and temper. A given individual has qualities in common with a type, other qualities that are different. While some traits may be sufficiently stable to determine a person's reactions toward life, others may be in process of coming into order. A person who is clas- sified as unstable in type for the most part may be un- commonly stable in other respects. A very approachable person is sometimes extremely difficult, the impersonal man is on occasion highly personal, the friendly sometimes 132 General Psychology most unfriendly, the conventional in marked degree un- conventional, the easily influenced perplexingly obstinate, while the "hard-headed" person may have a "soft side." Moods.-Moods enter in and annoy us sometimes when we are trying to classify people. States of fatigue make a difference. A person may be "off color.'' People change when cross, hungry, ill, anxious over finances, troubled by personal losses. Discriminating more care- fully, we ask, In what respect is a person sociable, friendly? When is the introspective person outgoing or expressive? In what respect is a man a mere mouthpiece of a class, holding opinions borrowed from a demagogue? Under what conditions is a person angry, cautious, ap- preciative, helpful, despondent, respectful, contrary, sub- missive, "difficult," hard to make out? McDougall finds a clue in the fact that we habitually use the names by which we distinguish emotions and impulses.7 "The mood is clearly an affective-conative fact of immediate experience. We not only display moods by our attitude and behavior, but often we are immediately aware of the mood. Yet we recognize that a mood may per- sist, even when some emotion of an entirely different quality and tendency dominates the scene. Thus, when in an angry mood, I may be provoked to laughter or to pity, without the angry mood being wholly dispelled. As soon as the intercurrent emotion is spent, the mood may reassert it- self. A mood is most commonly engendered by the evoca- tion of some strong emotion which is for any reason denied free expression. Hence the introvert is more subject to moods than the extrovert. When we cease to think of the object or situation that has excited the emotion and achieved the natural goal of its impulse, the mood remains, a resonating echo, as it were, of the emotion." The mood renders us peculiarly susceptible to the re-excitement of the corresponding emotion. So long as the mood persists, the impulse is seeking an object. The most persistent moods, bordering upon the morbid, are due to some un- resolved conflict of emotional tendencies. 7 Outline, p. 359. Temperament and Character 133 People suffering from nervous disabilities are likely to fall into moods, and a mood may become a habit and pass into a neurasthenic condition, with its attendant self- centeredness. The wise man inhibits a self-centering mood at once, by turning to his work, doing a deed of kindness, becoming absorbed in objective activities. On the other hand, a mood may be useful, may indicate conditions fav- orable for creative work, planning, producing. We may judge moods then according to their tendency to intro- version or extroversion. Character.-Dispositions and temperamental reactions are presupposed, as well as desire and will, in what we call "character." Muirhead defines character as "an acquired habit of regulating these [natural] tendencies in a cer- tain manner, in relation to consciously conceived ends . . . the habitual mode in which will regulates that system of impulses and desires which, looked at subjectively, is the field of its exercise, at once determining and determined by the will. "8 T. H. Green defines a strong character as "that habitual concentration of a man's faculties towards the fulfillment of certain purposes, good or bad, which commonly prevents the disturbance caused by strong desire from making its outward sign, from appearing in the man's behavior. " 9 In contrast with behavior, there- fore, by "character" we mean the mental, moral and spiritual qualities which constitute the man. Character as "man's total customary reaction" to his environment differs from his occasional reactions, such as a fit of the ' ' blues, ' '-good humor as an exception, a mood as a passing state, exceptional seriousness. A person of "sanguine temperament" might have an organic weakness or nervous disposition, yet character might be seen in the persistent or heroic endeavors throughout the years to master this disposition. Temperamentally a person might be strongly pessimistic, but his intellectuality might triumph in the opposite direction. An introvert who learns that he is such by temperament may acquire his 8 Elements of Ethics, 1892, p. 53. 9 Prolegomena to Ethics, 1890, p. 109, 134 General Psychology greatest strength of character by throwing himself into objective or social activities. Character is what we make of ourselves by reactions both on "life" and on disposition, and temperament. It includes our ideal. To become "a man of character" is to become unified, to bring various contrasted or conflicting traits or tendencies into order in the light of a purpose; to become consistent, that is, self-consistent, to be essen- tially the same individual in whatever environment or change of circumstance may be offered; to acquire intel- lectual self-possession, control of emotions according to judgments of worth or value; to live from "within" with poise, faith, an affirmative attitude. Although the ques- tion of character belongs to the sphere of ethics rather than that of psychology, we can hardly avoid introducing ethical standards if our judgments of character are to be anything more than mental tests. Sully emphasizes the fact that while character denotes any group of distinctive individual peculiarities, some congenital, others resulting in part from experience and education, fixity or permanence of mental tendency (as distinguished from changefulness and capriciousness), is what we mean by its essence; that is, a combination of well-developed and fixed conative tendencies with a strongly marked type of volition with its steadfast pur- pose, its self-reliance and its indifference to the many waves of influence from without which carry the char- acterless man off his feet.10 It cannot be defined as "a mere bundle of habits" for the reason that the man of character must rehabituate himself (Guyau), and because, as Mrs. Bryant has shown, "there is not a single good habit except the habit of being good that may not conflict with real duty at some point or other." "Habit must not be allowed to stiffen into narrowmindedness." Moral re- flection must supplement even the particularly virtuous habits: "character is never rigidly fixed." The Sentiments.-Shand, who has made the most acute study of character from the point of view of the emotions 10 J. Sully, Teachers' Handbook of Psychology, fifth ed., p. 528. Temperament and Character 135 and sentiments, regards character as dynamic, according to the ruling sentiment.11 The emotions are "forces," they are organized around what we regard as the good things of life; without the emotions we would not pursue these ends but would remain indifferent. Character con- sists of greater and lesser systems, mental elements, traits, and qualities; the lesser may be organized into the greater. The appetites of hunger and sex, for example, belong in the lesser system. But love includes an organ- ization of lesser systems of impulses and desires. All in- tellectual and voluntary processes are elicited by the system of some impulse, emotion or sentiment, and sub- ordinated to its end. Character is not constituted of the emotions and sentiments alone, or of will and intellect as instruments; but has other qualities, such as meanness, generosity, gentleness, sincerity, treachery, truthfulness, loyalty, cowardice, injustice, chastity, kindliness, honor, dishonor: the sentiment includes the qualities essential to its end. '1 Every sentiment tends to acquire the virtues and vices that are required by its system." "Every sentiment tends to form a type of character of its own. Thus a particular sentiment becomes prominent in I'Avar e, by Moliere. ' '12 The dominating sentiment is seen in relation to qualities of industry, parsimony, meanness, tyranny over all members of the household. Hence the prudence, vigilance, secrecy, cunning, unsociableness. That is, we note the dynamic relation of avarice to the rest of the character. So in other people we note that there is no character apart from intellectual processes which subserve it, no character manifested without circumstances which arouse it to activity, which supply it with material on which to act. Thus desires, which as a class have no determinate end, are never independent forces, are organ- ized in behalf of some end, such as love of truth, which the man of character puts before him. Although Shand does not use the term ' ' ruling passion ' ' 11 A. F. Shand, The Foundations of Character, 1914. 12 Op. cit., p. 123. 136 General Psychology or "prevailing love," his book is a scientific demonstration of the truth that it is what a man really loves which gives the clue to his character. That is, he traces character fundamentally to a sentiment with its concomitant im- pulses, instincts, tempers, desires, and subordinates in- tellect to this dominant sentiment. The sentiment affords the centralizing motive around which the several dispo- sitions gather, by using intelligence as instrumental in attaining the goal. Although Shand's scheme lacks the precision of an intelligence test, it represents a greater assemblage of traits and tendencies. As implying the real, complete individual, his view is to be borne in mind in relation to any attempt to discern character, to rate men's abilities in the industries. Human Types.-As our knowledge of human nature grows, our thought changes from the conception of fixity of character to a study of processes and tendencies, some waning, others waxing, still others coming in, as interests change, motives, or incentives give place to others, new occasions arise, habits undergo modification, and purpose becomes more definite. This consideration is especially important in studying the introvert or the unstable-minded type. Bearing in mind the fact that at best individuals tend to conform to a type, are never wholly like our clas- sification, we may group the clues afforded by behaviorists, psychoanalysts, and others under the heads of tempera- ment-character types. We find, for example, that the majority of people whom we classify as "normal," fall most readily under the classification of an objective group, that is, as extroverts, stable-minded, externally sociable, or productive. Again, we group people as originally in- clined to be subjective, tending to introspection, less stable- minded, interiorly developed, deliberative, possibly sensi- tive, highly emotional or nervous. But we also need a third group for the synthetic type, including certain emo- tional and will types, the artistic, the autocratic, the rationalistic and other balanced types. (1) Representatives of the easy-going type, belonging to the subjective group, may have had an original tend- Temperament and Character 137 ency to instability; their subjectivity is relatively unpro- ductive, they are chiefly known by their pleasant, agreeable ways, uncritical optimism, a habit of cultivating conditions in which they are merely "comfortable." They are usually phlegmatic, not readily moved or persuaded, not ardent enough to become partisans. Hence they may seem to agree first with one group, then with another; they are not easily affected by disparities or contradictions, not even by hypocrisy. Again, this harmonizing tendency may be combined with a fair degree of intuition. (2) The autocratic type appears at first thought to be- long in the objective group, since it implies stable-minded- ness in the sense of abundant energy and strength of will, and may involve self-assertive narrowness which leads eventually to conservatism. But the "single-tracked" tendency may be combined either with moderate ability or with exceptional powers such that men and women in whom this temperament is strong are synthetic, if not well-balanced. The stable-mindedness may either express itself in a direction where will is paramount, arbitrarily interfering with the efficiency of associates; or, we may find exceptional leadership through ready selection of capable people, and a high degree of knowledge brought into excellent use. A person of this type may lack insight into character, or be unwilling to select associates whose ability would militate against leadership of will. The autocratic individual is likely to be a hard worker, in- clined to be coercive, if not commanding others to work equally hard whether they are constitutionally able or not. This temperament is sometimes associated with a pro- nounced fault-finding tendency. It is difficult for one of this type to learn anything from others or by experi- ence. (3) In individuals of the yielding type there was un- doubtedly an original tendency toward introversion or instability of mind. Hence there may still be an inclina- tion to indulge in dreaming, in idealism not well founded in things of this earth. There is usually a marked sen- sitivity, with consequent weakness in resistance. But this 138 General Psychology receptivity is likely to be commingled with talents which may be cultivated through persistent objectivity. If there is a tendency to be long-suffering, with a habit of giving way for the sake of harmony, this one-sidedness may later yield to intellectual development and an endeavor to be- come well balanced. To accept one's self as unstable once for all might be to allow one's self to be hurt by adverse criticism, to become more self-centered or sub- jective. Keener knowledge of one's own states may give a point of departure for greater grasp on life, viewed from within. Acute self-knowledge can be turned to pro- ductive account. Sensitivity may prove to be an asset. It is easier for a person of this type to distinguish between disposition and character. Hence growth in character may be more strongly marked. (4) Very often when the remark is made "that person has temperament" the reference is to the artistic type, that is, a person with pronounced talent, possibly genius, but with a personal equation tending to be too strong. There are fine sensibilities, there is "taste," yet high de- grees of emotional reaction tending toward flightiness, instability, perhaps to undue sexuality; and probably moods when this person is not approachable, with a sensi- tivity easily thrown off its balance so that if an inter- fering incident occurs the whole day may be lost: the artist can not paint, the musician can not practice, the author can not write. This seems an eccentricity which should be overcome, and yet it is apt to be persistent. There may be periods of depression when the artist is in ill-humor, intervals of passion when moral standards are imperiled. In other persons there may be an off-setting moral composure or rationalizing tendency. In some the outlet for creative expression is incomplete, hence inner conflict and possibility of failure. (5) Emotional types are hard to classify, since they may seem to belong with the objective, on account of out- going emotions, but again may involve introversion. Many people are strongly emotional but with unproductive tai- Temperament and Character 139 ents. Again, their emotions may be intensified by nerv- ousness and tendencies to neuroticism, or allied with great enthusiasms, a love for others which may involve excesses, an altruism which wavers between self-sacrifice and selfish- ness or self-pity. Coupled with a strong will and a single- tracked intellect, the emotional person may be as one-sided as people of an imperious type. A person of this type may well ask whether emotions are worth while, and if so what ones are eligible. But Shand reminds us that emotion gives dynamic. On the whole the emotional types belong primarily with the subjective group, although tending to become synthetic. Varied Types.-There is a strenuous or impulsive type of man who, resembling those in the objective group, be- cause of their great energy, also resembles the autocratic type in executive ability, but may be known for his deeds carried through with impulsiveness rather than for single- ness of will. Again, there are people of a sensitive type who resemble those who yield too much but whose weak- ness was originally due to a protected childhood in which there was little opportunity for contact with nature, for overcoming obstacles. Hence this tendency manifests itself first in introversion and diffidence, possibly in stam- mering, later in a tendency to be too retiring, or in pro- nounced weakness of will. There are germs of talent or taste, some evidences of "intuition" and fineness of moral sentiment, but without sufficient self-knowledge to show the way to productivity. People of this class usually vary according to their state of health more than observers realize who attribute the difficulty to introversion. Other subjectives are nervous because of too much confined power, with all the defects of the sensitive type; sufferers from disposition rather than from temperament, uneasy, excitable or restless. Rationalistic Types.-The ideal representatives of the synthetic group are found among those in whom reason predominates rather than among people of autocratic or artistic types. The tendencies to synthesis are early shown 140 General Psychology in habits of moderation, in pleasures, work, adaptation to custom, planning the day's program. People of this group possess a certain poise, balance, reasonableness, by nature; and this is fostered by education and experience, without needing correction. Such a person is likely to find re- sources in the inner life without being an introvert, in nature without undue absorption in externals, in books without being a "grind," in people without forgetting the life of thought. Great interest is shown in sources, causes, origins, conditions and their influences, laws, and principles, the eternal verities. Such a person is many- sided, approachable, although sometimes said to be cold or impersonal, lacking in enthusiasm. Representatives of this group may be classified as (1) judicial, tending to see all sides, dispassionate, freer from prejudices than most people; with unusual calmness of judgment, high standards, not easily corrupted by par- tisanship in politics or by love of money; little likely to make mistakes or to be extremists; in public life the "man of principle" who devotes himself to public good; (2) scholarly or intellectual, painstaking, thorough, with great love of research for truth's sake; with intellectual aris- tocracy, pride, too much cool scrutiny, narrowness, dryness, over-specialization or inaccessibility only in case of men of lesser capacity; (3) philosophical, those in whom "love of wisdom" really predominates, those who remain "human," broad-minded, seek truth and reality in all things, cultivate vision, insight. In himself every man likes to emphasize the tendencies to objectivity, stability of mind, synthesis of emotion, will and reason. But to know himself a man must take account of tendencies which might make him autocratic, unduly conservative, too in- trospective, inconstant, or unproductive. Control of emo- tions in favor of a predominant sentiment implies a scale of values, an ideal or purpose. Temperament and Character 141 Pillsbury, W. B., The Fundamentals of Psychology, rev. ed., 1922, Chap. XVI. Warren, H. C., Elements of Human Psychology, Chap. XV. Tansley, A. G., The New Psychology, 1922, Chap. VIII. Trotter, W., Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 1916, Chap. II. McDougall, W., Outline of Psychology, Chap. XIII. Shand, A. F., The Foundations of Character, 1914. Holmes, A., Principles of Character Making, 1913. REFERENCES CHAPTER IX PERSONALITY The term "personality" is often defined with reference to the persistence of the same characteristic amid all bodily and mental changes during a life-time, personality being the qualities or endowments taken collectively. Or, it is identified with (1) the physique (which varies with the individual), the bodily organism in general, the nervous system and processes described in brief as "be- havior"; and (2) the mind, as observed in "experience" and analyzed into elements, as possessing a certain struc- ture in part peculiar to the individual, the basis of the mind being in the native equipment which we all share. It includes native intelligence, discoverable by means of mental tests; the dispositions, tempers, temperamental traits, characteristics; and possibly the subconscious. Popular usage seizes upon an obvious trait and speaks of a person as "magnetic," "dominating," or "weak"; while personality for men of thought is "the self." Some psychologists tend to reduce personality to trains of ideas, identical with memory, on an associationist basis. Others find its essence in self-consciousness in contrast with desul- tory consciousness, "split-off" or divided personality. Personality as a Problem.-The problem for many to- day is to determine whether the mechanism of personality is hidden in the depths of the subconscious. The tendency is strong in some quarters to regard the subconscious as a kind of secondary self, possibly in the sense of accumu- lated habits, or perhaps as an unconsciously achieved product not yet unified with character as a conscious achievement. The deeper phases of personality become very extensive for devotees of psychical research, and in- 142 Personality 143 elude the whole field of unusual experiences, the relation of the present to the future life, and the sphere of genius in all its types: this leaves us with personality in the customary sense as a mere phase of our whole selfhood, not yet coordinated with 4'the deeper self." The same problem exists in the case of theories in which emphasis is put on the unconscious, with the assumption that the unconscious is "the real psychic," while our conscious life is secondary. Before we consider these assumptions, in Part Two, we need to bring into closer unity the principles which have already come before us. Functions of Personality.-Reverting to the conception of inner experience as disclosing a three-fold activity- cognition, conation, affection-we may describe the func- tions of personality in terms of attention, interest, intel- ligence, intellect; and will, conduct, character, with respect to our responses to environment and the opportun- ities it affords for self-development. We develop by meet- ing the world of nature, learning its realities in contrast with our own fancies, discovering its laws, the conditions it imposes upon us; and by contacts with our fellowmen, through interactions of wills. Life tends to foster our development whether we will or no, it produces affective results, and so in a way personality is a consequence of what happens to us. But we learn and we will, we try out and modify; and personality as a product is a cooper- ative result. There are judicial, deciding, selecting processes at work within us; but also energizing, emoti- vating, driving powers implying aptitudes, capacities, predispositions brought into action by experience and in process of being modified.1. Personality is a synthetic product of this varied adjustment between what the world does to us and what we try to do to the world of our fellowmen. The world at large is "a corrective reality." It integrates within us so as to secure and maintain our sanity. The personalities of men represent the progress the race has made in making explicit this relationship, in biological terms "the success attained in adjustment." 1 Cf. Paton, Human Behavior, Chap. IV. 144 General Psychology If personality, as the individual's biologic capacity for adaptation, measures the degree of adaptation of which each man is capable at all the different levels of living, the term refers chiefly to environmental influences. But this is only a beginning, since each man is an individual, develops a mental world of his own, projects his own ego from the background of inner experience, acquires self- consciousness, possibly in high degree; and the individual passes through manifold conflicts in his effort to attain unity within himself. Consciousness has been described as a synthetic organization which we know indirectly by comparison with states that disturb it, such as inhibitions and repressions. We tend toward rational balance and, in the few, personality means a remarkable coordination between the multiform tendencies of the self; with its varied instincts, emotional reactions, strivings, sentiments, organized will and highly developed intellect. But per- sonality in the majority, amid unrealized yearnings, re- pressions without number, conflicts within and without, is a very different sort of thing. Paton holds that a prime difficulty in developing a com- plete idea of personality in the race has been due to the fact that man has for centuries discussed personal prob- lems from the outlook most gratifying to his own pride. Hence man has created an imaginary world, " inhabited only by people at the prime of their activities, possessing an unusual degree of emotional stability and considerable intellectual development." The result has been that man has devoted his interests to an exceedingly limited period in the span of life. Attempts have been made to explain conduct without any reference to individuals rendered defective by disease or imperfect development. Whole systems of law, ethics, religion, and education have been deliberately planned with reference to the needs of the relatively few persons capable of attaining a high degree of intellectual development and volitional control. In- stead, we should base our ideas of personality on genetic psychology, tracing the development of personality through its successive stages. Paton's investigations do not lead Personality 145 him beyond the hypothesis that the cerebral cortex regu- lates the synthesis of the personality, and the idea that individual differences are due to differences in the extreme delicacy of adjustment. But his main contention is doubt- less true, namely, that until we have taken all types into account we will be unable to characterize personality ade- quately. Elements of Personality.-Warren defines personality as "the entire mental organization of a human being at any stage of his development," that is, his intellect, tem- perament, skill, and morality, with every attitude that has been built up in the course of the individual's life.2 One's behavior is the joint product of the nerve impulses which penetrate to the center, and one's entire mental organ- ization, the ground-work of which is inherited, while the scope is due to experience. Warren admits that little effort has been made as yet to single out, measure, and intelligently coordinate the several elements of personality. So too Wood worth says that psychology can not as yet present anything like a real scientific analysis of person- ality, or even show on what elementary factors it depends.3 It plainly depends in part on physique, on temperament, on the instincts, and on intelligence; but we are left for the most part to measure ourselves against others in the course of experience. Within what we call the self will is plainly fundamental, in the sense of wishing, striving, purposing, resisting, competing. We can not intelligibly summarize the self however in terms of self-assertion. The self-assertive individual is not necessarily conscious of self : the self-assertive impulse precedes, and consciousness of self follows. A true estimate of one's self and one's limi- tations arises through experience of failure, and the neces- sity of giving up and submitting. Nor is self-assertion identical with selfishness. The chief emphasis belongs on integration; the coordinating of tendencies which work well together. The Self.-The chief difficulty encountered by some psychologists is due to recent tendencies to over-specializa- 2 Elements, Chap. XVI. 3 Psychology, Chap. XXI. 146 General Psychology tion. When the soul was dropped from psychology, a part of our personality went with it. Then we heard less and less about the self as a construct or conception. Later, the intellect was dropped in part, when the full reaction against intellectualism set in; and with the conceptualiz- ing power of our nature reduced to the function of trying out percepts by appeal to practical situations in the ex- ternal world, how could we coordinate the various elements of our nature? The self was relegated to metaphysics, the soul to theology, and the personality in the sense of values was wholly handed over to ethics and aesthetics. This is as it should be in a way, that is, if psychology shall confine itself to mere description of mental life. But the difficulty was that despite these assignments various psychologists persisted in introducing metaphysics. The moment we generalize and insist that every mental state and element without exception is a product of the brain, that neural determinism is absolute, we adopt a meta- physical principle, and thereby indulge in adverse crit- icism of those who are still so benighted as to believe that the self is real. It is difficult indeed to reconstitute the personality, when we have capitulated to a mechanical philosophy and left no basis for conceiving the self. It is equally difficult if we cease describing mental life after we have given an account of habit and association, and have left the student to make the best of a chaotic situa- tion, with the hypothesis that even cognition is habit. The situation is little better in the case of William James, unless we find our own way to overcome his in- consistencies and arrive at a synthesis of the various elements of personality. There are passages in his chapter on ''The Consciousness of Self" of great value in classify- ing the empirical self with its constituents-the material self, the social self, the spiritual self, and the pure ego. James affords a direct clue when he shows that to consider the spiritual self at all is to indulge in a reflective process. What he calls "the self of selves" is plainly a construct referring to the active element in all consciousness. But when, later, James refers to the self as mainly a collection Personality 147 of motions in the head, a feeling of bodily activities, his long chapter leaves us with no definite view at all. If we are to find a constructive basis for the self as his hints lead us to believe in it, we need Stout's searching critique in his Analytic Psychology, together with later criti- cisms.4 The plain man is likely to be content with a working idea of disposition, temperament, character, with a belief in the soul as underlying unity. By personality we mean, for all practical purposes, something as definite as life itself-till we are asked to explain it. But personality in the popular sense is very far from being identical with what the individual reflectively calls "the self." It is a subtle combination of traits and qualities by which we describe a man as pleasing, forceful, energetic, adaptable, cooperative, ambitious, self-reliant, trustworthy, or in terms of a dozen other well-known characteristics. We refer in general to the way a person appears in society, to the qualities which make for success in life, which make a person attractive. In short, "personality," like the term "soul," is eulogistic. As Paton reminds us, we select those qualities which comport with our pride. We make little or no use of the other aspects of human nature about which the newer psychologists have been telling us so much. To the plain man, the self as a philosophical construct is utterly abstract and devoid of interest. His idea of personality is a construct produced to suit his purposes-but he does not know it. And so we classify the plain man as one more specialist whose conceptions we have to reckon with. Psychology must in the end be impartial. It must endeavor to reconstitute the entire real personality and selfhood of man, of all men, defectives, criminals, the insane, introverts and extro- verts, as well as the personality of people of high-grade intelligence and great force of character. Psychology is right in its present endeavor to build well, by working from the native basis of human nature upward, by endeav- oring to describe the original nature of man. Every < See F. B. Jevons, Personality, 1913, p. 49. 148 General Psychology such attempt is of course conceptual. We must distinguish between instinct, for example, as supposedly functioning in prehistoric times, and the dispositions and habits which still survive. But the more deeply we delve into human nature as it is found in all types to-day, the more nearly we may be said to approach actual human nature in ele- mental form. Self-consciousness.-The difficulty which many en- counter is due then to failure to distinguish between (1) what is immediate, given, experienced as psychic fact; and (2) what is mediate or conceived, psychologically ex- plained, or interpreted for practical purposes. Thus some writers refer to ''experiences in the unconscious," as causes of disturbance in the case of nervous disorders and dreams, as if experiences could actually be discerned func- tioning below the threshold of consciousness; when what is really meant is that the concept of a cause is arrived at by piecing empirical items together. Again the term "psyche" is used without noting the fact that this is a construct based on varied information about the inner life, not an entity which one can discern by introspection. Before one concludes that the "psyche" is unconscious, it is well to note what we mean by " self-consciousness. " When unpleasantly self-conscious, our mental states are conditioned by bodily or nervous processes; hence we are not strictly speaking seZ/-conscious, but more keenly aware than usual of affective states, or we are shy, embarrassed, hesitant, anxious, ill at ease. Emotions are apt to involve self-consciousness, yet the emotion we regard as a clue to self-consciousness may be chiefly a bodily expression of some element of our nature which we do not understand: emotions interpreted during half a life-time as "spiritual" may on mature analysis prove to be mainly sexual in type, notably in the ease of many mystic experiences. He is acute indeed who can distinguish between the bodily and spiritual aspects of his libido. The "introvert" or highly subjective person, whose self-conscious states appear to be very noble indeed, may be on the whole an impeded personality, hampered by bodily conditions; and it may Personality 149 take him a score of years to trace his besetting symptoms to their psycho-physical conditions and causes. While at the beginning a person of this introspective type may assume that the direct object of his experience is nothing if not self-consciousness pure and simple, eventually he may reach a point where his cherished object seems to be brain-states and nothing more. It is safe to say that no man ever truly comes to know himself who has not mistaken bodily for mental states by reading values into them. By self-consciousness in a desirable sense we do not mean present feelings, whatever their nature or value, but a constructive idea of the self attained by successive analyses in so far as we have become aware of the influence of the body, the nervous system, the power of suggestion, imi- tation, prejudice, tradition, custom, public opinion, con- ventionality. The whole field of abnormal psychology dis- closes facts which help us to become more acutely self- conscious, as we note the tendency of the mind to dissociation, conflict, suppression, mood, disturbed balance; by contrast one wills to become coordinated by a unifying purpose, without suppressions of any sort, yet with ever wiser selectiveness and more efficient concentration. We see that it is desirable both to know and to acknowledge all that we are, however far back in evolution the elements of our native equipment may reach; to pass upon and reorganize what is eligible, especially in the case of the emotions, ranging as they do all along the scale from the lowest point we ever touch to the highest sentiment we ever cherish; then to utilize our deeper selfhood to the full, including the libido with its possibilities of sublima- tion. To be efficiently self-conscious a person must attain a balance between states which do not too steadily remind one of the body, and do not involve unpleasant awareness of mental processes. By contrast of course one advances by learning what the self is not, that it is 'not the body, not the mere summation of passing percepts, not a mere series of "uprushes" from below the threshold, not the repressed "psyche," and not even a synthesis of all the 150 General Psychology "wishes" which are striving for fulfillment. In other words, what we mean by the term "self" is not anything we ever feel or see as direct object of experience; it is always a conceptual element thought of as having existed in the past, however great its conflicts; as active in the present, anticipating a future in terms of a purpose; and as related to a world of objects called "nature," to other selves (constructs) conceived as similar in nature, and to some sort of ideal order (moral, spiritual) in which the purposes of selves find a field of expression. The self as thus regarded lies in part outside the field of psychology. But if we are to refer to the self at all, within psychology, it is of the utmost importance to note that the self is present by implication, acknowledged through the adop- tion of a purpose, not as an object of experience. We attain a conception of the unity of the mind's several phases only so far as we relate them to our ideal. The self is always in some sense an achievement. It becomes by wittingly identifying with its purpose what is found eligible. No one is bound to accept merely as presented any of the long series of dispositions, aptitudes, and de- sires which life discloses to us for criticism and modifica- tion. Even our "ruling passion" may be brought home to us at last as a passion which we find ourselves respond- ing to, not one that we have chosen; and if by contrast we adopt a prevailing love, regarded as more eligible than a passion, it must be because we believe ourselves in some measure free to choose our own destiny. Thus we make excursions outside of psychology and come back to it with renewed interest to go as far as we can descriptively, while remembering our ethics. Consciousness.-We have already concluded that con- sciousness has a real place in relation to mental develop- ment, as "a fighter for ends," with efficient powers of attention, conation, cognition. Can we go further and distinguish it a bit more sharply, within the context of experience? Many attempts have been made to describe consciousness without proceeding in a circle. We can not, of course, define it, although we may use ' ' awareness ' ' Personality 151 as a synonym; we may contrast focal with marginal con- sciousness, and trace the meanings of states which give way to others and drop below the threshold, contrasting the less-conscious with the greater. Then too we may contrast consciousness as a state which we all know with the experiences of men who have lost and regained con- sciousness.5 A drowning man brought back to life "recovers con- sciousness," and he may have had a panorama of his life pass before his attention when he thought he was dying. Consciousness may be dulled by narcotics, and stirred by stimulants. Surgical patients recover from the effects of chloroform and return to consciousness. A person who has been thrown from a horse and dragged some distance may recall the last moments before losing consciousness, also the first moments of return; hence learn by contrast that there was a period which he classifies as a blank, totally devoid of this wonderful possession we call consciousness. Recently a writer who has passed through several blanks in the course of a life-time, blanks which he takes to be equivalent to death, has characterized what he calls the actual experience of dying.6 With the eagerness of popular thought, one is likely to ask, Whence comes this which we call "consciousness," with its strong sense of life such that an interval of ob- livion makes no apparent break at all? What are the conditions of its return? We can not answer in terms of experience, for we know only contrasts within conscious- ness itself, together with the meanings which we attach to these contrasts. Our whole experience of self-knowing consists in detecting relations, drawing inferences in regard to them, and endeavoring to put the results together in a system. Consciousness has been described in brief as a relation. In its terms we come to know the difference between those aspects of our experience which we attribute to things and forces around us in space and psychic states, 5 Cf. C. A. Strong, The Origin of Consciousness, 1918, p. 32, foil. 6J. D. MacKenzie, "The Experience of Dying," The Atlantic Monthly, May, 1923. 152 General Psychology such as pains, desires, emotions, mental images, which we classify as more subjective, as pertaining more directly to the perceiver. Further, we distinguish between the im- mediacy or givenness of either sense-perceptions or inner psychic states and what we call the self as apprehending and interpreting these. The awareness or givenness is a distinct fact, the fact of which we are most sure. It tells not only that perception is going on but that thought is going on. Psychical Content.-Describing consciousness in brief as the function by which things and events are given to us, we may proceed to develop our idea of the self as knower of things given, or, more specifically, as knower of psychic states in their relation. We would have no idea of the self were it not for this givenness. We have every right to cling to this fact, the psychic element of experi- ence, whatever is said by those who try to ignore it for the sake of materialistic consistency. By developing the psychic content constructively, we find ourselves in a better position to coordinate all the results of psychology, with- out slighting any, without over-simplifying. For, instead of indulging in generalizations which we read into the psychic content without admitting the face, we call explicit attention to the fact noted above that psychic immediacy as such is one thing (a bare datum telling us that something exists and that there is awareness), while all the rest is mediation, that is, description and interpretation. The one surest fact is that of the existence of psychical immediacy whose presentations in their succession we call "experience." We know by experience what awareness is. We know that we are all the time becoming more acutely aware. A part of this work appears to be done for us: items of experience become associated, objects combine, percepts supply subject-matter for concepts. Psychology is all the while enriching our knowledge of this associational process. But it is by no means clear that the work done for us by experience is the more im- portant work. We are still in the stage of comparing con- ceptions-automatism, patterns, stereotypes, behaviorism, Personality 153 interactionism-and we are justified m reminding our- selves of the highest of these. The Larger Self.-Borrowing a conclusion reached long ago by idealists, we may say, with Royce: unless I am more of a self than I empirically take myself to be, I can not be as much of a self as I take myself to be. The self I seem to be in the given moment-the material self, the social self, the spiritual self-is merely a frag- ment. So too is the self my critics think I am, the self this or that friend discovers in me, the self a stranger sees when I am uncommunicative, the self another sees when I am expressive in high degree. By contacts with the world, with persons of varied types; and by contrasts between my mental states and my bodily states, I am all the while learning directly or indirectly what I am. In retrospect I discern meanings of which I was once but dimly aware. However incongruous my moods, reactions, emotions, wishes, and cogitations appear to be, I realize that somehow I own them all and that through them I press toward my goal. Thus Victor Hugo, looking back over his eighty years, declared that there had been four Victor Hugos in him, and so tacitly admitted that there had been a fifth, namely, the (constructed) self which recognized or identified the four transient phases of his total selfhood. To be what we are actually from hour to hour, day to day, year to year, we must all along have been far more than we potentially even dreamed. What- ever we may conclude concerning the unconscious, the sub- conscious, or the subliminal, the self is at any rate such that it can have the experiences which have led to the postulation of a deeper self. We may perhaps conclude that Aristotle's terms, "potentiality" and "actuality," are more intelligible than "unconscious" put in contrast with the conscious. For life is in brief a discovering of our capacities. We infer what we are from what we find ourselves knowing, feeling, striving for. Each man finds himself in some sense an individual, and life consists in realizing or making manifest what we are. But each man also in some sense makes himself an individual by his 154 General Psychology protests, his choices; by his progressively acute self-con- sciousness, his ideal of a moral personality. Myerson sug- gestively remarks that "upon the issues of the conflicts within the personality hangs the fate of the individual." In the ultimate sense, personality is an achievement. If it be true that there is all this wealth below the threshold of consciousness which specialists have been telling us about in terms of the unconscious, let us turn these new discoveries to account by more critically stating what we mean by personality as an ideal. Summary.-In preparation for the study of the deeper self as recent specialists regard it, it is well to note the significant fact that there are profound psychologists who still hold that the self can be adequately described by analysis of consciousness as more significant than the so- called unconscious. We therefore, remind ourselves anew of the laws and conditions of habit and association, with the possibility that there is mental association and mental memory not wholly conditioned by the brain; we note the existence of instinctive dispositions, desires, emotional tendencies breaking through into the domain of self-con- sciousness and taking on modified forms. We also note the progress which the mind makes from perception to apperception, thought, reason; and the process unceasingly active during our waking hours by which selective atten- tion constitutes for us our mental world. Amidst all this wealth of activities we are meanwhile steadily learning what awareness or consciousness is by what we find it doing, what self-consciousness is in contrast with what it seems to be, what personality is by our way of taking life. Strictly speaking, all that we directly know is the present fact of consciousness, leading to the next moment, and that to the next; plus the wondrous fact of this inner contrast by which we distinguish between consciousness as given or immediate and our observation of it as just now passing, as having meaning for us. Although we are unable to define consciousness, we can at least contrast its definitely active states with states that result from a blow on the head, states due to narcotics, and those in which Personality 155 what we call "consciousness" returns. We know too that consciousness has its focal points or centers of interested attention, in contrast with marginal states in which con- sciousness recedes into the background. We may then develop without limit distinctions within consciousness. We may learn with ever keener discrimination what it means to be an individual, relatively free, possessing ideals, achieving purposes, wielding all the forces popularly known in terms of personality. All this is in a sense the discov- ery of the potential, as it progressively becomes actual. REFERENCES Angell, J. R., Psychology, 4th ed., 1908, Chap. XXIII. James, W., Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Chap. X. Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, Chaps. XI, XII. Sidis, B., The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898, Chap. XIX. Myerson, A., The Foundations of Personality, 1921. Paton, S., Human Behavior, 1921, Chaps. IV, V. Strong, C. A., The Origin of Consciousness, 1918. Turner, Julia, The Psychology of Self-consciousness, 1923. Warren, H. C., Elements of Human Psychology, Chap. XVI. Woodworth, A. S., Psychology, Chap. XXI. Jevons, F. B., Personality, 1913. Part Two PSYCHOLOGY OF THE HIDDEN SELF CHAPTER X THE NORMAL AND THE ABNORMAL Study of the instincts affords a direct approach to the investigation of the abnormal. It can not rightly be said that any instinct, disposition, or desire is abnormal in itself. In the regular course of evolution man is brought into possession of "the animal mind," and it is perfectly normal to be actuated by all the instincts. But some instincts make for self-preservation, satisfaction or the development of the ego; others make more directly for adaptation to the herd. The individual instinctively tends to assert himself to the full, in response to hunger, fear, sexual love, imitation, suggestion, and other incentives; but as naturally his conduct is curbed through response to sympathy, parental love, custom, tradition. Hence the original urge of his instincts finds such expressions only as his social contacts permit. Prohibition from without means inhibitions within, thwarted desires, restraints, eventually conflict, as the individual modifies his conduct according to type, social position. The study of inner con- flict in the light of all its conditions, social, unconscious, pathological, thus becomes one of the great interests. Habit and Conflict.-The situation appears much the same if, with Dewey, we change the emphasis from in- stinct to its later repesentative, habit. "A habit impeded in overt operation continues none the less to operate. It 157 158 Psychology of the Hidden Self manifests itself in desireful thought, that is, in an ideal or imagined object which embodies within itself the force of a frustrated habit."1 As thus regarded, habit is not, as many have assumed it to be, a consolidation of indi- vidual activities leading to what we call "custom." In- stead, custom is traced to ways of behavior, not to the mind as originator; and these modes of behavior include hunger, fear, sexual love, gregariousness, sympathy, pa- rental love, imitation, suggestion. Custom is collective habit, supplies the standard for personal activity. It has behind it the dynamic or projective quality of habit, pre- disposing the individual to act overtly in a specific manner. When this tendency to overt action is opposed, conflict is set up. The Abnormal.-We are therefore concerned with any social influence in the environment which tends to foster, regulate, or repress the instinctive reactions, the desires and emotions, sexual and otherwise. Specialists in ab- normal psychology would not all agree in putting em- phasis on habit, but all would emphasize the tendency of custom to repress instincts and desires so that conflict results. If it is normal for the individual to respond to his native drive, it is inevitable that, granted the resist- ances which spring from custom, thwarted tendencies should generate trouble. Recent specialists are inclined to state the matter in terms of the unconscious and its complexes. It is asserted that the primary unconscious is "the basis of the entire mind," (Tansley) including the great instincts and the psychic energy which continu- ally wells up and activates our entire conduct. The mind, thus regarded, is a network of mental elements in association, hence a fruitful field for complexes, notably the ego-complex, the sex-complex, and the herd-complexes. But if we regard the complex, or association of items of experience, as the source and basis of habit, the point of emphasis is practically the same. The action of habit is unconscious. But desire becomes conscious, and so the individual wittingly pursues desireful ends unless i John Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct, 1922, p. 53. The Normal and the Abnormal 159 thwarted. Carry the inner conflict far enough to produce manifestations of disease, disturbances of mental balance, and you have the field of abnormal psychology. Your analysis has not disclosed a sharp dividing line between normal conflicts and pathological conditions. Formerly, it seemed a simple matter to consign problems of the abnormal to medical specialists whose view in gen- eral was that diseased mental action was merely an output of a diseased brain. The causes of insanity were said to be distinct changes in the brain, as if the brain were identical with the mind and insanity a thing apart, with little or no reference to normal life. Suggestion and psy- choanalysis had yet to be developed in the study and cure of nervous disorders. The hypothesis of the unconscious had not taken the place of the theory of "unconscious cerebration. ' ' A profound change has come about through expert study of all phases of subnormal mental life, with contributions to normal psychology made from several points of view by specialists in the abnormal; and with the enrichment of the field of individual and social psychology in the sphere of the normal. Medical psychologists are still to be found who identify brain and mind, but they are deeply interested in the phenomena of suggestion, the analysis of dissociation, and in some view of the uncon- scious, whatever value they may assign to psychoanalysis. If Freud's critique does not imply a "new psychology" which is to displace the old, it at least makes an important contribution, and helps to modify the distinction between normal and abnormal. Not every psychologist has adopted the unconscious, but if not he must offer a substitute in a keener analysis of conscious life, with its less conscious moments, its disjunctions and conflicts. The significance for students of normal mental life of the exploration of the abnormal is found then in the fact that analysis of the abnormal is likely at any time to enrich our knowledge of the normal. The criminal is no longer isolated, as if by virtue of his "sin" or his dis- ease he belonged in another category of human nature. 160 Psychology of the Hidden Self Mental tests applied very extensively in war-time have reminded us anew that mental defectives are everywhere numerous among the normal, whose mental age in turn may be extremely low. Instead of drawing sharp lines of distinction between the intelligent and the unintelligent, the present tendency is to determine the intelligence quo- tient and to standardize the vocations in reference to men- tal types. It is the study of abnormal mental life which is indicating the way to mastery over the normal. Intelli- gence discloses itself amidst a context, and its history must be read anew in relation to the repressions and con- flicts which impede self-expression. Sanity and Insanity.-The old dictum that "human na- ture is everywhere the same" finds fresh confirmation in recent efforts to reconstitute "the original nature of man," and to learn precisely what the personal equation is for which allowance must be made. There may be a norm for human beings in a healthy state, but every individual varies from the standard under certain conditions. It was difficult to define what we mean by the abnormal while we were far from knowing what we meant by the normal, to define insanity when we were unable to define sanity. In practical life people have sought mental balance without first finding out what all the elements of mental life are, including those hidden motives which normal people some- times try to conceal even from themselves. In the indus- tries as well as in social life and religion, we are now concerned with the whole psycho-physical individual as any profound analysis studies him, even though we find the barriers between sanity and insanity breaking down. For legal purposes and for commitment to an insane hospital there must, of course, be definitions of insanity. Alorton Prince expresses the opinion that sanity and in- sanity have ceased to be terms of scientific value, since these terms can not be defined with reference to specific mental conditions or mental processes.2 Others have pointed out that insanity has never been satisfactorily de- fined even for legal or medical purposes, although defini- 2 The Unconscious, 1914, p. 241. The Normal and the Abnormal 161 tions are employed for the sake of arriving at a decision. Thus it has been said that "no act done by a person in a state of insanity, or suffering from mental defect, to such a degree as to justify his being placed under care, treatment, and control, can be punished as an offense. ' '3 This means that many persons may go about insane until some deed brings them into the hands of the authorities. The question arises, What is crime in relation to mental defectives and persons who may be judged insane? We postpone this question for consideration in another chap- ter. What concerns us here is that while there must be definitions for practical purposes, psychologically it is dif- ficult to draw sharp lines of distinction. Accounts of experience written by people who were once insane have been throwing light on the mental states of an insane person, notably in the case of C. W. Beers,4 and the writer signing himself "E. J.," who contributed to The Atlantic Monthly an article entitled "Up From Insanity," in which the actual process of change to a state of mental control is clearly described. Such an ex- perience throws light on favoring mental states within our control which lead to better psycho-physical conditions over which we have little or no direct control. Light has also been thrown on the insistent ideas and uncontrollable im- pulses which may find expression in what is called insanity under certain disturbing conditions. Sidis expresses the opinion that all these forms of insanity have at their base "a disaggregation of consciousness, a dissociation of the primary and secondary subconscious selves." The ab- normal activities of the mind in general in cases of hysteria and insanity are now said to be merely extreme and un- balanced developments of characteristics and functions which form integral parts of the normal healthy mind. The reactions do not differ in kind but only in degree from normal reactions to stimuli in ordinary behavior. In the case of either normal or abnormal behavior the reactions are necessarily conditioned by the original struc- 3 The Psychology of the Criminal, Hamblin Smith, 1923, Chap. II. *A Mind that Found Itself, 5th ed., 1921. 162 Psychology of the Hidden Self ture and the capacities of the organism as modified by- experience. Dissociation.-Dreams are classified in relation to the abnormal, but we are all subject to them. Abnormal per- sons are victims of illusions and hallucinations, but so are we all in a measure. Hysteria, hypnosis and somnam- bulism appear to be more distinctively abnormal, yet these phenomena result from conditions with wThich we are all acquainted in less exaggerated forms. Minor states, such as absent-mindedness, the forgetting of familiar names, slips of the tongue, and purposeless or thoughtless actions, are similar to those states which, when intensified, involve dissociation and pathological conditions. These minor states we regard as perfectly normal expressions of mental life. Yet any one of them may be typical of pronounced forms of dissociation which carried to the extreme lead to division within the personality. The feeling of having experienced an entirely new sensation before, or of having been in a place now visited for the first time, is a well- known instance of illusions of memory akin to param- nesia. A "mood" is a mild instance of experiences which lead us to speak of a man as "beside himself," and later to raise the question how long he will retain efficient self- control. Automatisms.-Automatic writing, crystal gazing and so-called "psychic phenomena" in general seem remote from the routine life of most of us; but they involve autom- atisms already implied in phenomena with which we are familiar. The principle of mental dissociation or the splitting off of mental states from those recognized in our passing states implies the whole field of the subconscious from the simpler instances of thoughtless actions and lapses of memory to marked divisions within the deeper self. The specialist in abnormal psychology is apt to regard a subconscious manifestation as a derangement of certain functions of the nervous system, since his interest centers about pathological forms of dissociation. But this need not keep us from learning whatever we can about normal mental life by following his descriptions of the The Normal and the Abnormal 163 subconscious. The specialist is ready to admit that it is necessary to explore the subconscious at large in order to understand its diseases, since there is no hard-and-fast line between the physiological and the pathological. Coriat points out that "the mechanism which produces disturbances in the thoughts and actions of normal people is identical with the mechanism which causes the disturb- ances in the insane and in abnormal mental dissociation. ' '5 That is to say, the transition from the normal to the ab- normal is gradual, with overlapping of types such that it is difficult to say where one leaves off and another begins. "When absent-mindedness becomes protracted we have hysteria, and when normal failure to recall a name takes in the events of a period we have amnesia. ' '6 The dis- sociation is normal so long as it is transitory. If pro- longed it becomes abnormal. In normal life other activ- ities enter in, to inhibit states which if uncontrolled would lead to abnormal dissociation. In normal life we check the tendencies to vanity, ambition, avarice, and the like, while in insanity these activities take on undue propor- tions and gain control. Insomnia and fatigue in moderate forms remind us of what might take place in the organ- ism if these conditions should become intensified. Repressions.-Janet defined normality in brief as "ef- fective control by the higher psychical functions." The normal man is one who possesses sufficient substitutes for inferior tendencies so that his life is at once relatively free from repressions and from undue conflicts with his social environment. A repression or complex becomes a source of trouble when it has been dissociated from con- sciousness so that its effects are experienced while as a cause it remains "unconscious." Hence Rivers defines dissociation as a body of experience which is separated from experience readily accessible to consciousness by some kind of obstacle only to be overcome under special con- ditions, such as sleep or hypnosis.7 In the normal indi- 5 Abnormal Psychology, 1910, p. 18. 6 Ibid., p. 22. W. H. R. Rivera, Instinct and the Unconscious, 1920, p. 87, foil. 164 Psychology of the Hidden Self vidual there are releases of various kinds which free the personality from states likely to become repressions or complexes. The normal man reckons with or assimilates his experiences so that they pass without upsetting the balance. In Mursell's phraseology, the normal person integrates in terms of reality, while the abnormal does not. The introverted person is predisposed to maintain repres- sions and to release them in socially impossible ways. Repression means habit-distortion. If it becomes pro- nounced, the whole life is disoriented, disjoined from reality. The pathological enters in when the individual begins to withdraw from social reality, and the profundity of the disturbance can be measured in terms of the with- drawal.8 Instability.-Hence, as Trotter shows, the birth of the science of abnormal psychology meant a generalization of first rank. Certain physical and mental manifestations which have usually been regarded as disease are "due to the effects on the mind of the failure to assimilate the experiences presented to it into a harmonious unitary personality." An "unwelcome experience persisting as an irritant . . . capable neither of assimilation nor re- jection" may unwittingly become the cause of profound or hidden trouble. The mental conflict which produces the instability is not in itself a disease but is "an inevi- table consequence of man's biological history." Hence the problem of mental instability implying the thwarting of the primary impulses to action becomes the central consid- eration. In states later diagnosed as disease the mental processes and mechanisms which elude observation in normal life become sufficiently exaggerated so they may be recognized at last, and effects may be traced back to causes. The result is renewed interest in the study of mental conflicts wherever found. The investigation of the abnormal does not then commit us to a specific interest, such as Freud's emphasis on sex or the analysis of dreams. The idea of repression or s J. L. Mursell, ' ' Repression, Release and Normality, ' ' in The Psychological Review, Jan., 1923. The Normal and the Abnormal 165 conflict is more general in its applicability. We are con- cerned with egoistic impulses in contrast with social en- vironment wherever found, with instincts and the repres- sive forces to which they are subject both within and without the individual. Psychical Research.-When the phenomena popularly known as "psychic" or spiritistic, began to be investigated by men of science, the whole interest seemed like a "re- crudescence of superstition," and many critics would say so still. Yet the Society for Psychical Research, founded, in 1882, had for its purpose an investigation according to the methods of science to see whether any portion of the phenomena were real; the matter was not prejudged. The original interests were: (1) an examination of the nature and extent of any influence which may be exerted by one mind upon another, apart from any generally rec- ognized modes of personal influence; (2) the study of hypnotism, mesmerism, trance, clairvoyance, and kindred phenomena; (3) a critical study of "sensitives"; (4) a careful investigation of reports of apparitions at the moment of death, or regarding disturbances in houses reputed to be haunted; (5) inquiry into spiritistic phe- nomena; (6) the collection and collocation of existing materials in which these subjects are considered. The mere idea of such investigations was objectionable to some scholars, because their effort is to limit science to physics. And yet if science could prove that there is absolutely no reality in so-called psychic phenomena, it would at least be in a position to define the normal more accurately in relation to the abnormal. The results of the investigation have shown, once more, how difficult it is to draw sharp lines of distinction. Statistics show that so large a pro- portion of people have had at some time in the course of life an experience bordering on the psychical that such experiences may reasonably be studied as means of de- termining the nature of the deeper self. The Subliminal Self.-F. W. H. Myers regards the human self as far wider in scope than our ordinary con- sciousness ever lets us know, limited as we are by the 166 Psychology of the Hidden Self states which succeed one another above the threshold (Zimen). Consciousness came to be regarded by Myers as a "privileged case of personality," a special phase, simpli- fied, easiest to study, because we have direct opportunity to observe what is going on in it.9 Our psychical unity is federative and unstable; it has arisen from irregular accretions in the past; it consists even now only in the limited collaboration of multiple groups, discontinuities, incoherences, with many temporary and permanent in- equalities. Myers compares the self as a whole to the spectrum; each man is at once profoundly unitary and almost infinitely composite, poly-psychic. By studying the various ways in which personality tends to disinte- grate, we may find light on its more complete integration. There are in general concurrent and alternating streams of consciousness, subliminal and supraliminal strata of personality. Our apparently central consciousness may not be different from the minor consciousnesses out of which it is in some sense elaborated. There appears to be one larger psychical unity as the unifying continuum of the smaller, with a pervading though incomplete control; for the soul has only imperfect and fluctuating control over the organism; there are dark lines of obstruction and incapacity. Myers's brilliant descriptions suggest the need for the most complete observation of all phases of personality, whatever the contrasts and apparently insuperable diffi- culties; while w'e also develop conceptually an idea of the self as organizing all this empirical wealth and as seeking to attain unity. Mental life above the threshold is not necessarily central or proponent, in contrast with our whole being; consciousness is a special instance of some- thing much more extensive. This larger self of ours is not only implied in automatisms of psychical types, but in experiences of a spiritual nature which indicate that whole regions of our selfhood are mostly potential dur- ing our present life. The threshold of consciousness is 9 Human Personality, 1903, 2 vols. The Normal and the Abnormal 167 regarded "not so much as the entrance to a chamber, but rather as the normal margin of the sea in the boundless ocean of life. Above this margin or level rise the separate islands of conscious life, but these visible portions rest on an invisible and larger submerged part. Again, far be- neath the ocean surface all the separate islands unite in the vast submerged ocean bed. In like manner human personality rears its separate peaks in our waking con- scious life, but its foundations rest on the hidden sub- liminal life. . . . Sleep and waking are the tides of life, which periodically cover and expose the island peaks of consciousness. ' '10 Whatever view is held regarding the possible objective reality of psychic phenomena, it has long been clear that Myers's concept of the threshold is everywhere workable in the effort to mark off the field which for some is the unconscious, for others the subconscious, and for Myers the sphere of the subliminal self. Again, Mr. Myers was on sure ground in endeavoring to explain every phenom- enon that can possibly be so explained, after the most care- ful investigation, on the basis of what goes on within the self, in contrast with any assumed extra-psychical world. For example, there are sense perceptions which pass unheeded when they occur but which rise into awareness later, or become active in sleep and also other less-active states. The vital processes of the body in health and dis- ease are more or less influenced by "suggestion" in this deeper region of our nature. Higher mental activities emerge in the genius, the infant prodigy, and sometimes by means of the hypnotic trance. The dissociation of per- sonality appears to imply that normally the self is more diverse than has been suspected. If there be any reality in lucidity, telepathy, and allied phenomena, these activ- ities also imply wider points of contact in the subliminal region. Myers's conception has scope. It is not limited to the special interests of psychoanalysis, the psychiatrist, therapeutist, or typical abnormal psychologist; it affords io W. F. Barrett, Psychical Research, 1911, p. 35. 168 Psychology of the Hidden Self a unifying basis for an investigation of the entire field whose content remains to be determined.11 Human Nature.-In connection with the attempt to mark off the normal, it is important to look somewhat beyond the field of psychology to note how greatly the scene has changed since it was customary to put sinners in one class, the insane in a second, to keep silent regard- ing our sexual nature, and then to refer to what remained of "human nature" in the self-gratifying sense of the word, namely, as that portion of our hidden self which we were willing to acknowledge. We have been told that to "err" is human, that there is a "warring element" in our nature which is ever ready to give us trouble, and that human nature is ' ' selfish ' ' once for all; but we made little effort to penetrate beneath these pronouncements until psychology took over the whole field and began to separate theory from fact. Almost no attempt was made, for instance, to inquire into individual differences until psychology showed how people vary in mental types, some being eye-minded, others of an auditory type, a motor type, or tactile type. If a railroad employee fell asleep at the switch, we did not investigate the influence of fatigue-states. If an engineer nodded, the resulting accident was passed by as "deplor- able," but as one that could not be helped, since human nature is liable to err. Programs for social reform were dismissed as impractical solely on the ground that human nature is unruly and "can not be changed." The prob- lem seemed too difficult from any point of view, involving as it did the notion that by nature we are "perverse." Theorists intensified the difficulty by attempting to show that man is really actuated by self-love and self-interest, despite all appearances. It was argued that society is a kind of compact for the benefit of the few who concealed their real motives under alleged good-will. Hence the need for a revolution to overturn the existing economic order. Finally, it was supposed to be essential to man's salvation ii On the question of telepathy, see C. R. Griffith, Gen. Introd, to Psychol., p. 273; C. E. Seashore, Introd, to Psychol., p. 115, The Normal and the Abnormal 169 to accept a creed condemning human nature theologically even more than it was disparaged in any other way. We are not wholly free from vestiges of this prejudice. The New View.-The philosophy of evolution brought into view the altruistic dispositions which coexist with egoistic, in the case of sympathy and other social incen- tives implying the gregarious instinct; hence even our animal ancestry when characterized at its worst began to appear in a new light. It is a question of understanding, coordinating, and sublimating or utilizing all elements of human nature. The further psychology has penetrated in the analysis of dissociations and repressions the clearer it has become that our central problem involves the re- moval of inhibitions and interferences. Psychology dis- closes nothing "wrong" in human nature as such. There would appear to be no dissociations which can not be overcome through science and education. Moreover, in considering "human nature" it should not be a question of a generality: we have to do with individuals, no two of whom are alike in heredity, acquired characteristics, or potentialities. All individuals are in process, and may be regarded more intelligently, with an impartiality which aims at fundamental knowledge and unlimited helpful- ness. The Original Nature of Man.-By this term is now meant, not some supposed "nature" as described by a theologian, by a writer like Hobbes or Rousseau, but whatever organic evolution shows it to be in all its rich- ness, as a matter of fact. Common to our nature but varying in degree with the individual is the driving force coextensive with our instincts and underlying the whole side of our nature once known as "perverse," "lower," "carnal," or "evil." It is presupposed as an undifferen- tiated energy implied later in all our cravings, the per- sistence of immature or elemental desires which come into opposition through social inhibitions and the forces of which conventionality approves. The results of the con- flict are seen in our emotions as modified or restrained, our desires and appetites as curbed, our will as "trained," 170 Psychology of the Hidden Self our intellect as ''enlightened" our social life as "correct," "proper" or moral. It was formerly assumed that we could describe and assess all the human nature which could be mentioned without condemnation under the simple heads of "intelli- gence," "will," or "character," with possibly a reference to temperament. But no element of our nature can be understood apart from the others. It is as important to reckon with the elemental nature of man in the case of the perfectly healthy day laborer as in the case of the genius or the neurasthenic. At this stage of knowledge, few writers are likely to agree as to the scale of constituents from primitive to civilized types, the "springs of action" and their relative values. We are not yet agreed as to what is "elemental." The significant thing is that there is now widespread em- phasis on the elemental as remarkably complex and fruit- ful, in contrast with the sweeping assertion once popular that pleasure (in general) is the "only thing we desire." There is some sort of contrast between the crudely animal mind at one end of the scale and the disinterested virtues at the other. Dr. J. J. Putnam points out, for example, that "men are handicapped by passions, longings, ambitions, cravings for success and mastery, to a degree of which they are never wholly conscious. ' '12 That is to say, in the normal "original nature of man," there are "two different and apparently antagonistic sets of tendencies, related to our rational aspirations on the one hand, and to our emotional repressions on the other." These conflicting tendencies imply motives of constructiveness and motives of adapta- tion. Hence, as man has both a biological and a spiritual history, our summary of the native promptings of man should cover the entire series from the undifferentiated energy in emotional form through the instincts and crav- ings, including the persistence of elemental desires (the desire to inflict pain or suffer pain), passion, emotional excess, fear based on desire, fantasy (of immature types, 12 Human Motives, 1915. The Normal and the Abnormal 171 used in the interests of self-love, with a sense of power and excitement), egoism, "will-to-power," self-assertion (sometimes useful, sometimes harmful), and reactions of defense. At the upper end of the scale Dr. Putnam places rationalization (used to secure relief from the sense of disharmony), knowledge, consciously directed adaptation, genuineness (as in art), conscious will (based on reason), imagination (serving the interests of reason), conscious reason, and finally disinterested love. If we regard man from within, including the subcon- scious, we are most likely to emphasize the conflicting im- pulses implying what Dr. Putnam calls the native ' ' undif- ferentiated energy in emotional form," impulses which in certain instances involve what the psychoanalysts call "complexes." If we regard man from without, we de- scribe him as played upon by physical forces and social influences, political, economic, and pleasure-seeking. In the light of the ideal, we describe him as "creative," moral, spiritual. We may describe him in brief, from any angle, as a being who is a recipient of life (from whatever source), who reacts according to his dominant motive, "ruling passion," or "prevailing love." Man's love is in the broadest sense his life, even when he perverts life in selfish forms. He is man by virtue of all the energies or motives which his love implies. The behaviorist de- scribes the external signs of that love, the nervous mechan- ism through which it functions. The psychoanalyst dwells upon the libido as repressed in the unconscious. The par- tisan of intelligence tests is apt to throw man's elemental nature wholly out of account. Students of the industries assure us that industrial life can and should "develop the spiritual nature of man by affording him a daily chance to show what is in him. ' ' Prince, Morton, The Unconscious, 1914. Sidis, B., The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898; Symptomatology, Psychognosis and Diagnosis of Psychopathic Diseases, 1914. Coriat, I. H., Abnormal Psychology, 1910. REFERENCES 172 Psychology of the Hidden Self Rivers, W. H. R., Instinct and the Unconscious, 1920. Mercier, C. A., Sanity and Insanity, 1895, Chap. Ill; Psy- chology, Normal and Morbid, 1901. Goddard, H. H., Psychology of the Normal and Subnormal (bibliography), 1919. Paton, S., Psychiatry, 1905. Thorndike, E. L., Educational Psychology, 1913 (the original nature of man), Chaps. Ill, XIII. Putnam, J. J., Human Motives, 1915. Hart, Bernard, The Psychology of Insanity, 1912. Rosanoff, A. J., Manual of Psychiatry, 5th ed., 1920. CHAPTER XI SUGGESTION The term "suggestion" came into vogue with reference to the insinuation of a command or belief into the mind of a subject by means of emphatic words, gestures, atti- tudes, intended to produce immediate or post-hypnotic effects. It was later applied to psychotherapy without hypnotism, hence to any mode of treatment or influence actually or indirectly due to mental means. The term also found favor in salesmanship, in the art of life, and has become the equivalent of a theory of life on the sup- position that great numbers of people are susceptible to personal influence, responsive to the crowd-spirit. As Professor James has pointed out, the term has been used so extensively that it is supposed to account for all mysteries. "When the subject obeys, it is by reason of the operator's suggestion; when he proves refractory, it is in consequence of an 'auto-suggestion' which he has made to himself. . . . What explains everything explains nothing; and it must be remembered that what needs explanation here is the fact that in a certain condition of the subject suggestions operate as they do at no other time; that through them functions are affected which or- dinarily elude the action of the waking will; and that usually all this happens in a condition of which no after- memory remains. ' '1 Suggestibility.-So much has been written to show that the human mind is amenable to suggestion, that noth- ing remains to be said in its favor: it is not creditable that our minds are submissive, that by insinuation ends can be gained which can not as yet be brought about through i Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, p. 601. 173 174 Psychology of the Hidden Self reason. There is certainly no reason for increasing our suggestibility, or for employing auto-suggestion when we may advance to critical thought through knowledge of laws and mental efficiency. We are concerned rather with the fact that the mind is more subject to suggestion in all its forms, in the spread of fashion, belief, emotionalism, subtle propaganda, than we realized till the phenomena of hypnotism were analyzed and people began to wonder if they were secure in their alleged mental isolation. Psychology chronicles the fact, it does not foster sugges- tionism, any more than it favors indiscriminate emotional expression when the power of the emotions is made mani- fest. Suggestion is not the only principle of explanation offered by specialists in mental and nervous diseases. The field of psychoanalysis lies for the most part entirely out- side that of suggestibility. Whatever emphasis belongs on suggestion as a factor in our less-conscious states, in the influence of the mind on the body, and as a social influence allied to custom, it is imperative to say what we mean, instead of appealing to suggestibility when we should say "habit," or "association." 2 Definition.-A suggestion is an idea or impression ac- cepted by the mind without criticism or thought. It may be employed through subtle effort to win and hold the attention, so as to carry a point, make a sale, break down opposition, banish an obsession, produce a cure (hetero- suggestion) ; or it may be used within the mind itself through concentration on an affirmation, the repetition of a formula, and the endeavor to "impress the subcon- scious mind" affirmatively so as to break down negative influence. It is sometimes enforced by aid of religious sentiments or quotations, through "silence" akin to Oriental meditation. The will is supposed to be quiescent save so far as attention is concerned, or the optimistic attitude favoring confidence in the physician, the accepted scheme of beliefs. It is favored by an emotional appeal, especially on account of the fact that men and women are 2 On the conditions of suggestibility, see Ewer, Applied Psychology, p. 80. Suggestion 175 emotional rather than intellectual. So too in ordinary- conversation, the idea presented to another ''takes" if he is ignorant enough to adopt it; if he responds to per- sonal influence instead of distinguishing between mere likes and dislikes, and intelligibility. The psychology of persuasion in general discloses the same phenomena. A temptation is a suggestion, and a man is tempted in ac- cordance with his points of contact, his ignorance of life, his tendency to be misled, or through his vulnerability in certain respects in contrast with his resistances in others. Those who regard suggestion as "psychic infection" (Jacoby), hold that it "takes" if the ideas have force enough to "incite the imitative impulse in the brains of persons who are receptive, that is, weak-willed." Sug- gestibility is then said to depend on the strength of will, the character; it varies according to age, temperament, sex, education, habit, and culture: the potency of suggestion also depends on the personality of the operator, and the faith of the recipient. Some who separate the term from all references to hypnotism, reduce all suggestion to auto- suggestion, then use "suggestibility" as the equivalent of inner receptivity, a state to be fostered because people are still in the emotional stage of religion. Counter-suggestion.-When does suggestion fail to produce the desired effect? When it encounters instincts too strong to be won over, opposing emotions too vigorous to be offset by an idea or impression; a "ruling passion," a dominant desire, a prevailing love, an obstinate tempera- ment, a character too fixed or too highly developed to drop down. It especially succumbs when it runs counter to habit, fails when it conflicts with reason in a mind strong enough to resist intellectually. A mind amenable to suggestion is likely to adopt a belief for "practical reasons," even if the belief be absurd, as a religious dogma is accepted when belief is said to make for salvation. A belief then acts as a habit of favoring auto-suggestion. The believer is supposed to allay fear, worry, anxiety, and doubt in favor of expectancy that his belief will be answered. But repressed desires or "com- 176 Psychology of the Hidden Self plexes" may be too strong to be overcome by a suggestion. With the growth of thought, keen, analytical, coordinating, systematic, suggestion wanes in favor of reason. The mind no longer responds to insinuation of any sort; it is active in the quest for knowledge of origins, laws, mean- ings, values, and opportunities for productive thinking. The well-organized mind is full of inhibitions. Suggestion and Behavior.-Bain long ago made it clear that ''beliefs are rules for action." The pragmatists have emphasized the fact that ideas develop out of practical life, and what we mean by an idea is seen by putting it to the test: if it fits, if it "works" w.e adopt it. When we take note of what psychology long since taught concern- ing ideo-motor action, the response to stimulus unless in- hibited, it is a question whether we require the hypothesis that suggestion is "an independent or original force," or the theory that "the subconscious mind" accomplishes all the work once assigned to reflex action, unconscious cere- bration, ideo-motor action, and involuntary behavior. The contribution of behaviorism to the discussion is in its emphasis on the fact that "the human being has thou- sands of action systems organized and ready to function the moment an adequate stimulus is presented. Hence, suggestion in the broadest sense of the term is co-extensive with the whole of psychology or with organization in gen- eral. "3 In response to habit and association we pass from one activity to another throughout the day, always subject to the breaking in of certain stimuli, as in the case of an alarm of fire or the report of an accident. The stimulus which interrupts the activity in which we are engaged and calls another action-system into play must be stronger than the system just then in command. In life as a whole there is constant interplay between stimuli or action-systems which contend for possession. In the normal individual there is constant inhibition of the ir- relevancies and intrusions. Hence the well-balanced indi- vidual depends on the "associative mechanisms" which regularly act as inhibitions. 3 Watson, op. cit., p. 333. Suggestion 177 Inhibition.-Royce has directed attention to inhibition as highly significant, since the organization of our whole higher life depends on preventing or overcoming various forms of activity. "What, in any situation, we are re- strained from doing is as important to us as what we do. Tension, the mutual opposition and balancing of numerous tendencies, is absolutely essential to normal life."4 So many stimuli reach the brain that the sup- pression of many possible motor processes is absolute and continuous. All higher mental processes are enormously inhibitory. So too in formal social company any number of movements are inhibited, those which are "out of character." To go home, to change one's company, is to change the inhibitions. In terms of behavior, the higher a given function is, the more numerous are the inhibitory influences exercised over lower centers. The physical efficacy of suggestion depends on its appeal to brain-habits which have a general capacity to act in an inhibitory manner, in contrast with functions of a lower level or of a more primitive simplicity. Active attention is a highly inhibitory function. Normal and Abnormal Suggestion.-In the most obvi- ous sense of the word any hint is a suggestion, so is any prompting which we assimilate according to its appeal, the state of mind we are in at the time. An associational process is a process of suggesting item by item in a series by resemblance, contiguity or some other relationship in- volving an incentive to reproduction. Suggestion as a peculiar determinant of belief or a mode of winning as- sent depends on the motive with which it is used. Thus suggestion plays a part in all types of influence, even in rational persuasion in a measure, as well as in clever efforts to sell goods, make converts, spread propaganda by appeal to the mass-mind. That is, the suggestion may be verbally given to a person's consciousness, or there may be an affective response which is not the mere effect of an idea, but rather the hidden effect of accepting the suggestion, 4 Outlines of Psychology, 1903, p. 71. 178 Psychology of the Hidden Self the process set up below the threshold of consciousness, and intended to offset an obsession. It was once assumed that the abnormal or insane are more susceptible to suggestion. But investigation dis- proved this notion. Everybody is in some degree subject to suggestion, especially where credulity prevails. If there is no fixed idea or abnormal state to offset the suggestion the range is plainly greater in the average normal indi- vidual than in the victim of a mania or nervous disorder. Much obviously depends upon the uncritical and automatic assimilation of the suggestion. If we regard the incoming of a suggestion in the light of consciousness, a typical explanation of the phenomenon becomes plausibe, i.e., there is a narrowing of the field of consciousness, an in- creased intensity and clearness in the ideas attended to; hence the peculiar vividness and force with which a sug- gestion is assimilated, despite the near-by presence of con- tradictory ideas. The fixation of the attention is there- fore essential, or the distraction of the attention from any influence or idea which might counteract the suggestion. The more attention we give to the inner process, how- ever, the less stress we are likely to place upon devices employed by the operator to win and hold the attention of a subject. Hence the emphasis which some writers put upon the so-called unconscious ideas within the subject, instead of the former emphasis on external factors. It has been repeatedly pointed out that the chief work is wrought, not by operator or therapeutist, but by the sub- ject or patient through "unconscious mechanisms." For suggestibility varies with the subject, who is very far from being the helpless automaton he was once taken to be. The operator does not attain his object through sheer force of will. It may be almost wholly a question of the dissociation within the patient which makes a response to suggestion possible. And this process involves the entire theory of the unconscious. According to Freud, this dis- sociation of consciousness is a characteristic of every mind, and is already a present possibility for the operator to Suggestion 179 utilize. This is accordingly the process to be investigated. The Limits of Suggestion.-It is significant that some therapists whose work in the field of psychical disorders began with firm faith in suggestion gradually worked away from it, as their knowledge became more profound, and in proportion as they sought permanent results. Few specialists have more strongly emphasized the suggestibil- ity of human nature than Dubois,5 but always with the endeavor to lead people beyond it. Suggestion implies, in his view, the fact that good faith has been imposed upon. It is greatly inferior to persuasion or reason. "Bechterew has cleverly noted the difference in saying that suggestion enters into the understanding by the back stairs, while logical persuasion knocks at the front door. ' '8 As soon as we depart from precise reasoning we experi- ince incredible difficulty in resisting suggestion. "Affec- tion, esteem, the fear which those who are talking to us inspire in us surreptitiously prepare the paths of our understanding, and our reason is often taken in a trap. Our sensibility intervenes, our feelings and our secret desires mingle with the cold conception of reason, and, without being conscious of it, we are led into error. . . . In all domains of thought, even when we believe that we are enjoying the most complete independence of mind, we are submitting to the yoke of ancient ideas which we have repudiated in our logical moments, but which have left their ineffaceable stamp upon our mind. "Fatigue, sickness, and age render more difficult the mental processes constituting reflection, and we give our- selves up, as captives bound hand and foot, to suggestive influences which, at another time, we would have re- jected." Thus mental contagion counts for a great deal in the family, a social class, a nation. There are "col- lective mental troubles" as surely as there are epidemics. A "wind of folly" may blow over the land. Error is easily fostered by auto-suggestion, because even a sensa- 5 The Psychic Treatment of Nervous Disorders. 6 Quoted by Dubois, op. cit., p. 108, 180 Psychology of the Hidden Self tion is already a suggestion if quickly accepted or mis- interpreted. Suggestion mingles with fact to produce what we take for "reality." Furthermore, we are especially susceptible to suggestion in respects in which we are ignorant, where we lack the appropriate knowledge which gives resistance. Our sug- gestibility is in fact incommensurable. "It enters every act of life, colors all our sensations with the most varied tints, leads our judgment astray, and creates those con- tinual illusions against which we have so much trouble to defend ourselves, even when we exert all the strength of our reason." DuBois does not hesitate, therefore, to call suggestibility a "defect." Hence the individual who wishes to preserve his good sense intact, and assure his mental health, will appeal to reason at every turn. If he loses some of the advantages of responding to auto-suggestion, it will be for the sake of avoiding many a false suggestion. Suggestion and Psychoanalysis.-Freud tells us that he too began, in 1889, by using suggestion as advocated at Nancy, but worked away from it because, while it can be used rapidly and without trouble or discomfort to the patient, its use turns interest away from the meaning and significance of symptoms to "second-rate work, not scien- tific activity," and is successful during a part of the time only.7 Analytic therapy tends, on the other hand, to lay bare inner causes and remove them once for all. Sugges- tion sometimes merely prevents the appearances of symp- toms. It may strengthen suppressions, while leaving other processes which have led to symptom development un- changed. But the inner resistances must be wholly over* come, so that the psychical life of the patient shall be permanently changed. So too, Jung, who has developed analytic therapy in modified form, contrasts suggestionism in all forms with analysis by saying that "the psycho-analyst does not attempt to force anything upon his patient which the latter does not see himself, and find reasonable with his 7 General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, trans., p. 388. Suggestion 181 own understanding. "8 It is necessary to lead the patient away from the passive or receptive attitude favorable to the use of suggestion. The use of common sense and the powers of criticism depends on the patient and his judg- ment. The principle is therefore entirely different from that of therapeutic suggestion. The method employed by Jung also differs from the "reasoning method of Dubois," since the psycho-analyst avoids argument and persuasion, and depends rather on the subconscious than on the con- scious self. A man might be consciously industrious, thorough, painstaking; but unconsciously careless, indif- ferent, untrustworthy. Or, he might be apparently free- thinking, liberal; but unconsciously superstitious. There is need not only of complete understanding of what is contained in the conscious mind, the activities, interests, passions, joys; but also need of whatever may be learned by dream-analysis and in other ways concerning the men- tality which lies below the threshold of consciousness. Partisans of suggestion might still insist that even the psycho-analyst obtains his results by suggestion. This rejoinder has been successfully met by Ernest Jones, by showing that mere economy of thought is no real explana- tion.9 To attribute a given occurrence to "suggestion" is with many equivalent to saying that the subject need not be pursued further. We should discriminate between verbal suggestion and an affective state set up within ourselves in response to personal influence. The real work takes place within the patient, who is by no means a life- less automaton. The real drama is constructed and acted in the depths of the patient's mind, which in turn is sub- ject to various forces needing investigation. A dissocia- tion already being present, for the analyst to reckon with, it is this which calls for the profounder study. The real fight is with "complexes." We are all subject to these, and there is a way to the substitution of more satisfactory forms of self-expression. Our repressed tendencies need 8 Collected Papers on Analytical Psycholoqy, trans, by Long, 1916, p. 207. 9 Papers on Psychoanalysis, 1916, Chap. XII. 182 Psychology of the Hidden Self permanent release by ''being made conscious," by wise direction, by sublimation into useful social channels. Hence the whole subject of suggestion involves matters by no means solved until we take into account the social forces involved in our objective life as a whole. Auto-suggestion.-Fresh interest has been aroused in auto-suggestion by Coue and his clinic. Baudouin, in his desire to explain Coue, points out that Bertrand, in his Traite du somnarubulisme, Paris, 1823, maintained that the hypnotic state is brought about by the influence of the imagination of the patients upon themselves.10 The main fact in hypnotism as in suggestion in general is therefore auto-suggestion, in which the imagination rather than the will is the prime factor. The most significant operation takes place in the subconscious. Hence Bau- douin defines suggestion as "the subconscious realization of an idea." Suggestion puts a "force" into operation, the ideo-reflex power which exists in everybody. Hence the emphasis should not be upon our impotence and in- feriority, as usual when we speak of suggestibility, but upon the power set free by auto-suggestion. "When the end has been suggested, the subconscious mind finds the means for its realization." The problem then is, how to realize the conditions wherein the desired suggestion will come into being with the minimum of effort. Hence the value of a formula such as Cone's repeated under favor- able conditions. Baudouin holds that suggestion is not reducible to in- stinct, habit or will, but is an activity sui generis.11 Al- though it appears to be in a way a subconscious will, suggestion does not bear fruit unless distinguished from will. In fact Coue has shown that there is a law of re- versed effort: when will and imagination are at war, the imagination invariably gains the day. Suggestion enables us to control something within the organism which is inde- pendent of the action of the will. Hence we should give it place in our psychology side by side with instinct, habit, 10 Suggestion and Autosuggestion, trans., 1920, p. 7. 11 Op. cit., p. 273. Suggestion 183 will. Like the will, it is a mode of activity dominated by a teleological principle. But while the teleology of the will is conscious, the teleology of suggestion is sub- conscious. It has since been pointed out that Coue acquired his technique from an American teacher, not from any French predecessor, as Baudouin maintains. Recent devotees of Cone have contended that while the will is "voluntary, external, propulsive," the imagination is "spontaneous, internal, creative." Hence "the great faculty of the sub- conscious mind is the spontaneous production of images, which tend to realize themselves." People have failed in their attempts at self-help because they tried to compel the unconscious to accept an idea by exercise of will, an effort destined to fail if will and idea were in conflict. We do not succeed in throwing off discouragement, for example, by an act of will. Stage-fright is not overcome by will-power. Since the state of effort and the tension underlying stage-fright are in conflict, people in vain grit their teeth and summon their powers of will. Our wills indeed are not the commanding monarchs of life which we have taken them to be, but are merely servants of thought.12 Hence we are incapable of exercising the will unless imagination has supplied the goal. To make effort is to set will and thought in opposition. The ef- ficient use of thought or imagination consists in employ- ing auto-suggestion without effort. Proceeding in a quietly confident manner, expecting to succeed, never using the words "difficult" or "impossible," but declaring "It is easy," "I can," we should bear in mind that the idea which exclusively occupies the attention is "transformed into an actual physical or mental state which arouses activity in the unconscious, that "vast area of mental activity which exists outside the circle of our awareness," which "touches the depth of the life-force" and draws upon "the storehouse of the memory." The Effect of Suggestion.-It is maintained that the subconscious mind never forgets anything, but accepts with- 12 C. H. Brooks, The Practice of Autosuggestion, 1922, p. 60. 184 Pychology of the Hidden Self out reasoning and complacently the ideas and emotion-con- cepts which we give it. This reminds us of T. J. Hud- son's theory of the i'subjective mind" which, we are told, ' ' can not reason inductively. ' '13 Though events appear to be forgotten, all ideas right or wrong that have gone to swell the content of the subconscious mind tend to reappear in body, mind and life. This deeper mind is not inherent in the brain, but is said to exist independ- ently of any specialized organ. The problem is to enlist the imagination creatively so that will and imagination will function together. For there should be cooperation between subconscious and conscious. To will to overcome the drink-habit, for example, would not be sufficient to cast it out. For in the subconscious mind there exist numerous memories of drinking scenes, and the like, which act as counter-suggestions. As the subconscious mind is clogged with a mass of adverse suggestions, a man's trust must be put in the imagination. Hence the force of Cone's simple proposition, "Think you are better, and you will become so." Suggestion and Emotion.-In qualification, one of the partisans of this teaching admits that no idea presented to the mind can realize itself unless the mind accepts it. It would be futile to declare, that you have no pain when you are well aware that you have a toothache. But it is confidently declared that "every idea which enters the conscious mind, if it is accepted by the unconscious, is transformed by it into a reality and forms thenceforth a permanent element in our life. ' ' All depends on getting the unconscious mind to accept the idea. What kinds of ideas are most promising? Those "charged with emo- tion." The acceptance or rejection of an idea depends upon the association with which it is connected: an idea is accepted if it evokes similar ideas charged with emo- tions of the same quality. As the unconscious mind is comparable to a tide which ebbs and flows, we should take advantage of the current when it serves, during a day- dream or "brown study," for example, just before sleep, 13 See The Law of Psychic Phenomena. Suggestion 185 just after we awake, when "the dynamic strata of the mind" are accessible, when auto-suggestion can succeed by avoiding conflict. For "when practicing auto-suggestion we are living in the mind, where thoughts are the only realities. We can meet no obstacle other than thought itself." We might, for example, meet fear, which combines every element necessary to give an adverse suggestion its greatest power. A man might be an idealist on the whole, yet at times given over to sensuous imagery when about to fall asleep at night, in his day-dreams. He may will to be rid of all sensuous feelings; but not knowing the law of conflict between the imagination and the will, he may for many years be a victim of inner conflicts. He must therefore learn how to appeal to the unconscious by adaptation to favorable conditions amidst which the right auto-suggestion can be impressed on his mind. Merits of Coue's View.-The value of this theory as stated by followers of Coue lies in its simplicity, its em- phasis on practice without metaphysical or religious be- lief, or reference to scientific questions such as the rela- tion of mind to body and the problems of determinism. This teaching appeals to people where they are: highly suggestible, often credulous; living in the emotions, and always ready to exchange one emotion for another; and eager to adopt a specific which promises to relieve them of their ills by an easier method. Its strongest point favors the imagination, not often enlisted as it might be in our idealistic efforts: it encourages people to make efficient use of the imagination in the endeavor to picture their goal, to recover self-confidence, become affirmative. Objections.-Critics have objected that, to depend on a formula, such as Coue's, "Every day in every way I am getting better and better," to do the work of self- improvement for us, might mean the optimistic glossing over of our difficulties, when knowledge of their causes is what we need. There appears to be no quick perma- nent cure of the greater difficulties into which inner con- flict brings us. What is needed is a technique to bring inner conditions to light, explain the actual situation to 186 Psychology of the Hidden Self the patient, and show him how to live a prudent life. Where moral considerations enter, there appears to be no substitute for facing matters as they really are, and com- ing to judgment in the clear light of rational thought. To center interest in the subconscious mind raised to the nth power of efficiency, as if it obeyed processes of its own, is to neglect instinct, conation, habit, and the laws and conditions of behavior in general. To encourage "effort- less" use of the imagination, is to overlook enlightened analysis of effort allied with attention and the finer points of present-day analysis of the will. What is needed in practice is union of will, effort and imagination, under- stood in relation to ideo-motor action; not neglect of will, as if it had not been proved fundamental. Psychology does not confirm the notion that will is "the servant of thought." A ruling passion or prevailing love presupposes that thought is the servant of will. A prevailing will might offset even a reiterated suggestion employed under the most favorable conditions. The behavior of people in Cone's clinic once more calls attention to the fact that persons respond according to the dynamic attitude where- with they approach the center of anticipated cures, where social suggestion counts for a very great deal, where many are ready to yield to another "action-system." Summary.-Whatever the values of the many popular systems employing suggestion to-day, the significant fact is that the human mind is highly suggestible, hence that suggestion is a factor to be reckoned with in several fields. For the moment we have been concerned with its power in relation to therapeutic teachings. We shall meet it again in relation to the psychology of success, the art of selling and advertising; as a social principle intimately allied to imitation; as a factor in influencing public opin- ion ; and in connection with our study of religion. A mode of mental activity which we meet so often must have some connection with a person's philosophy of life. Whatever our appeal to reason, we must admit the fact that the average person still lives on the level of emotions and feelings where there is no censor to prevent hetero-sugges- Suggestion 187 tion from automatically becoming auto-suggestion. In- deed, the average person makes little discrimination between truth and fiction, reality and appearance. A fiction accepted as truth by a mind predisposed to believe it, has all the power of reality. Thus a devout Catholic, approaching a shrine such as Lourdes where "miracles" of healing have taken place, already prepared to accept any wonder that may occur, is in an attitude to trans- form any pronouncement or event into an auto-suggestion favoring a sudden cure. The emotions are ready to make such a suggestion dynamic in full degree. Inhibition is at its minimum. Any other environment would have served as well, the occasion is secondary and incidental. What signifies is unqualified belief. From that type of mentality up through all stages of belief to the level of acute criticism, suggestion plays a part according to (1) the attitude wherewith it is met, and (2) the hidden mentality usually described as unconscious or subconscious which automatically assimilates the suggestion. REFERENCES James, W., Principles of Psychology, 1890, Vol. II, p. 601. Sidis, B., The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898. Dubois, P., The Psychic Treatment of Nervous Disorders, trans, by Jelliffe and White, 1905, Chap. XVII. T ansley, A. G., The Neio Psychology, 1920, Chap. VIII. Jacoby, G. W. and Psychotherapy, 1912, Chap. II. Jones, E., Papers on Psychoanalysis, 1916, Chap. XII. Freud, S., General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, trans, by S. Flail, 1920, Chap. XXVIII. Jung, C. G., Collected Papers on Analytic Psychology, trans, by C. E. Long, 1916. Baudouin, Chas., Suggestion and Autosuggestion, trans, by E. and C. Paul, 1920. CHAPTER XII PSYCHOTHERAPY The term "psychotherapy" is used by specialists of vari- ous schools to designate the scientific treatment of mental disorders and nervous diseases which are said to be due to "psychical factors," and susceptible to treatment by various methods of a psychical type. The term "psy- chical" as thus used is distinguished from "psychical experience" as investigated by devotees of psychical research, although there are points of contact between the two fields so far as effort to penetrate the deeper self is concerned. It is also distinguished from "mental" or popular therapy, since such therapy proceeds without scientific diagnosis, without precise methods, and is un- able to give an accurate account of the results. It applies more specifically to the investigation of functional symp- toms implying functional disorders, psychically caused, dependent, on erroneous ideas, and subject to correction by the awakening of right ideas. Thus in a way this therapy is a cure of the mind, but the term "mind" here means "those manifestations of the central nervous system which find their expression in apperception and the asso- ciation of ideas" (Jacoby) ; and "psychic" is used un- critically as a synonym for nervous activity in the sense of "the cerebral mechanism" which specialists identify with the "psyche" as if they meant nothing more by the term than brain processes. Thus Jelliffe speaks of the brain as producing a "masterly symbolism, which psychol- ogists term mental action." To say this is to assume all the points at issue, as if materialism had been abso- lutely demonstrated. So too these specialists pass over into ethics and assume rigid determinism by regarding the mind as in every respect a product of the brain. 188 Psychotherapy 189 The Objective of this Therapy.-Psychotherapy origi- nated independently of popular interest in healing, with the investigation of hypnotism, the discovery of the potency of suggestion, later the use of suggestion and vari- ous methods of re-education developed by specialists accord- ing to empirical results. The aim is more thorough knowl- edge of causes, and the development of a critique to over- come disorders diagnosed as surely belonging within the psychical field. Thus Coriat bases such therapy on the fact of dissociation in the unconscious, and emphasizes the need for synthesis of contrasted mental conditions or states.1 If a complex or dissociated state has automatic or independent activity, control of this state must be brought about, the automatism inhibited, and normal con- ditions restored within mental life as a whole. If certain experiences are stored up in the unconscious so that they can not be spontaneously reproduced, there must be some form of artificial reproduction. Morton Prince also points to the formation of complexes as the reason for developing this therapy, that is, the implantation upon the mind of ideational complexes organized by repetition, by the im- pulsive force of their affective tones, or both.2 The ob- jective is the substitution of new points of view, senti- ments and useful emotions which will establish new settings or fresh associations, and displace previous harmful ideas by desired meanings.3 Thus the purpose in general is the discovery of the causes of inner conflicts and the removal of causes by suggestion and explanation. The Empirical Basis.-Prince4 outlines the field of psychotherapy on the basis of such facts as the following: (1) Certain unhealthy habitual states of mind are apt to be accompanied by various derangements of the functions of the body, e.g., depressive or disruptive emotions and feelings; apprehensions, and fear of disease or of the con- sequences of business or social acts; fixed habits in ficti- 1 Abnormal Psychology, p. 26. 2 The Unconscious, p. 289. s Ibid., p. 368. 4 Psychotherapeutics, Morton Prince and other authors, 1910, Chap. 1. 190 Psychology of the Hidden Self tious disease; illogical doubts, scruples, and anxieties; habits of thought such as constant introspection, self-conscious- ness, the concentration of attention on the physiological functions of the body, the expectation of ill consequences following any course of conduct. (2) It is also a fact of observation too well admitted to be distrusted that the functional derangements mentioned above tend to disap- pear when healthy mental states are substituted for un- healthy ones. (3) Emotional shocks are apt in certain persons to leave persisting after-effects manifested by dis- turbances of functions of the nervous system. (4) In all persons to a certain extent and in some persons to a large extent suggested ideas tend to work themselves out to fulfillment. " It is a law that associated ideas, feelings, emotions, sensations, movements, visceral functions of whatever kind, tend, after constant repetition or when accompanied by strong emotion and feeling tones, and under other conditions, to become linked together in a system or group in such fashion that the stimulation of one element of the group stimulates the activity of the rest of the group. Such a group is conveniently called a complex." All our experiences tend to be conserved in such a way that they can be reproduced. It is the aim of psychotherapy to discover the particular complex or dissociation and overcome it. Psychic Disturbances.-As described by Jelliffe, a psychic disturbance is said to be due to failure of the cerebral mechanism to direct the automatic nervous system and the sensory-motor system to do useful work, and pre- vent any interference with the proper discharge of vital energy and the regular functioning of conscious life. An interference or psychic disorder is known as a psycho- neurosis. It may interfere with the inner life of the individual, or may cripple his social activities. It may be such an experience as an emotional shock due to the death of a husband or child, or may involve concealed wrong-doing such as the constant practice of deception or dishonesty. Hence the psychoneuroses have a social significance of a certain kind, and specialists skilled in Psychotherapy 191 exploring their causes insist upon the importance of care- ful regulation of their work in behalf of society. On the level of the sensory-motor nervous system, a psychic disturbance may involve a loss of sensation, blind- ness, deafness, paralysis, or muscular weakness. On what is known as the purely psychic level, the reaction may be a "mental disturbance," psychosis or mental disease (not necessarily insanity), in the specific sense in which the term "mental" is here employed, that is, a nervous disturbance without a somatic or bodily basis. A psychic disturbance may also mimic other types of disturbance due to other than psychic causes. Hence the importance of scientific diagnosis on the part of a highly trained observer, that the disturbances may be distinguished which are really amenable to psychical treatment. The Method.-It has been estimated that fifty per cent of all illnesses are of psychical origin. But this means that every phase of such an illness, practically without exception, has some somatic or bodily basis (Jelliffe). The method, however, involves emphasis on psychical states and causes, and on bodily conditions. For the method must be adapted to the mentality of the patient, which may vary from the extreme responsiveness of the child, ready to obey a command, to the rebellious intellectuality of the highly cultivated. Sometimes the process may be chiefly conversational, but again it may include every sort of influence which can be brought to bear to overcome prej- udice, vanity, family pride, desire for social prestige, or whatever may be the dominant attitude. On occasion the method may include hypnotism, reeducation, or psychoanalysis. Hypnotism.-Hypnotism as now understood in the practice of psychotherapy involves the use of certain forms of suggestion under favorable conditions, namely, "a mode of impressing certain ideas on an individual's mind" after the operator has induced a condition of modified consciousness, known as hypnotic sleep, or the hypnoidal state. The weak-minded and mentally inferior are more readily subject to hypnosis, their psychical disturbances 192 Psychology of the Hidden Self being in part manifestations of their constitutional in- feriority. Suggestion without hypnotism is used in other cases in bringing about a bettered emotional or otherwise improved mental condition. It may take the form of a command, persuasion, or an appeal to some portion of the personality not sufficiently aroused. Reeducation.-Reeducation has for its goal the partial reconstruction of the patient 's mentality on a firmer, more reasonable basis. Weaknesses are pointed out, strong points emphasized, with persistent effort in aiding the patient to become mentally and morally stable. Hence some therapists have much to say about the "moral" factors of the process. There is abundant opportunity for adaptation to type. The method of "talking things out" with the patient, the "cathartic method" of Breuer, led in time to the critique of psychoanalysis as developed by Freud. This critique demands consideration by itself. Here we simply note that former methods centering about the use of suggestion have been enlarged in recent years through comparison with the teachings of Freud and other psychoanalysts. Psychiatry.-It is important in this connection to have before us a technical definition of mental disease. As de- fined by Jelliffe and others, psychiatry treats of the pathology, clinical conditions, progress, cause, and treat- ment of disease affecting what specialists in mental dis- eases call "the mind," whether the disorder be as mild as a psychasthenia or as grave as an insanity. Whether the diseases in question are within the domain of neu- rology or that of psychiatry is determined by an analysis of the symptoms and physical signs in the light of family and personal history. Many diseases affecting ' ' the mind ' ' present marked physical changes, such as remorse, altera- tion in tendon reflexes, pupillary anomalies, as well as perversions of conduct or of action, such as exaltation, prodigality, suspicion, abulia. Insanity is defined specif- ically as a disease of the mind or brain "characterized by a general or partial derangement of one or more of the mental processes, in which, while consciousness is not Psychotherapy 193 abolished, mental activity is weakened or perverted." That is, insanity is not a merely "mental disorder," as that term is often understood, although disorder of mind is always present in insanity. The signs of insanity are both mental, and somatic or bodily. Insanity is distin- guished from arrested development and idiocy, and con- ditions like trance, ecstasy, and catalepsy in mild forms. Psychologically speaking, our interest is to discriminate between psychical disorders diagnosed as subject to psychotherapy, and hence involving methods like sugges- tion; and "mental diseases," functional psychoses and organic disorders classified under the well-known types of insanity. Neurasthenia.-This term also is in need of more care- ful definition. Popularly known as "nervous debility" or "nervous exhaustion," it is described by Coriat as a func- tional neurosis, more common than psychasthenia or hys- teria, and as involving complex symptoms.5 The term is sometimes used when there is only slight depression and fatigue. Again, a severe organic disease may tend to resemble it. Like hysteria and multiple personality, it is only one of the many expressions of a dissociation of the personality, or of dissociation within the subconscious as defined by specialists in abnormal psychology. It in- volves two principal factors, the emotions and a fatigue neurosis. The fatigue is one of the phenomena of over- stimulation. There is a decrease of the irritability of living substances. Hence a stronger and stronger stimu- lus is necessary to bring about any reaction at all. Finally even the strongest stimulus may be ineifective. In contrast with popular ideas, Coriat points out that neurasthenic states are only partially benefited through rest, some cases not at all. For neurasthenia is only a partial fatigue neurosis. Restlessness, diminution of the affirmative attitude, lack of energy, emotional instability, leading to apparently meaningless laughter or crying, dis- turbances in the association of ideas, difficulty in recalling words, and other disabilities may appear in connection s Abnormal Psychology, Chap. VII. 194 Psychology of the Hidden Self with the fatigue. Increased sensitiveness to stimuli may also be a sign. The fatigue-states become pathological when carried beyond the possibility of recovery by rest or nutrition. The exhaustion of the nervous system is due to high demands upon the nerve tissue. Progressive degeneration or functional disintegration results. Func- tional disorders follow. Effects of Fatigue.-With reference to the psychology of fatigue, it is important to note that what is popularly called "brain fag" or "nervous exhaustion" may be illusory, due in reality to muscular fatigue represented by a consciousness of this fatigue which persists even after the muscular fatigue disappears. After rest the muscular fatigue may entirely disappear, while the sense of fatigue continues, and seems to be due to brain weari- ness. In fact, the consciousness resulting from the fatigue may be indefinitely prolonged. Coriat compares this illusory consciousness to the feeling a person has after a leg has been amputated. The leg leaves its impression on the brain through what is vaguely known as "organic sensation." "When the limb was amputated, this sen- sation remained a memory, because of its long period of constant impression. So it is with the fatigue of neur- asthenia ... a false image of the fatigue remains. ' '6 It is not denied that real fatigue occurs in the nervous system, but this fatigue takes place only under special conditions, such as severe overwork. Then changes in the nerve cells result. But these fatigue changes in the nerve cells may be entirely absent in neurasthenic sub- jects, although the persistent consciousness may point to such exhaustion through memory of past fatigue. Subjective Factors.-Multiple personality may be one of the phenomena. There may be a hereditary disposition to the disease. Worry, emotional factors and certain sexual disorders are frequent causes. Although the symp- toms of neurasthenia are mental, as the specialist defines the term "mental," the psychical states are not called imaginary. The neurasthenic is a real sufferer. Coriat 6 Op. cit., p. 304. Psychotherapy 195 finds that "the most striking point about the neurasthenic is his introspection, his continual morbid self-analysis. Only under the stress of intense emotions does the neur- asthenic forget himself. The personality has become changed. Interest in things about him has been lost, he feels broken up, depressed, anxious, can not control his thoughts or feelings. The continual self-analysis and the lack of interest in outside things tend to keep up the symptoms. Hence the patient may become obsessed by the idea of fatigue, with constant caution lest he overdo. In this weakened state the most unstable psychical ele- ments develop.7 All the symptoms can be explained on a psychical basis. It is part of the work of psychotherapy to explain the symptoms, when the patient is in a state to understand. Dubois's Method.-Possessing not only the knowledge in several fields requisite for the educational treatment of nervous disorders, but the keenness of insight and the ready sympathy which enables him to discern 11 the heart, ' ' Dubois has had wide influence in arousing interest in the practical values of psychotherapy, and his book, The Psychic Treatment of Nervous Disorders, has had great influence. In the development of his theory, Dubois places particular emphasis on the personality of the physician, the suggestibility of all nervous cases, and on the causes, which are "psychical." When the precise nature of the abnormal mental state is discerned, the chief work is ac- complished by progressively persuading the patient to adopt the right attitude in regard to himself and with respect to his life as a whole. The cure is in sight when the patient becomes convinced that he will recover. He is cured on the day he believes himself well. The object of the treatment from first to last is to make the patient master of himself.8 Since it is the "ideation" which causes or harbors nervous disorders, since the nervous state is a psychosis, the education of the will and reason, as well as the training of the emotions, is essential. Hence knowledge of the inner life is more important than knowl- 7 Ibid., p. 311. 8 Op. cit., p. 35. 196 Psychology of the Hidden Self edge of the pathological conditions. The greatest of all suffering is "moral suffering." The moral influence of the specialist is consequently of great value. Another significant point in Dubois's view is his un- qualified determinism. Dubois holds that at the time the patients are examined they are "never otherwise than what they can be" at that particular juncture in their lives. What man is, is said to be wholly determined by cerebral conditions. A volition is invariably determined by the motor tendencies of sensation or 'by intellectual motives. We obey some sentiment or idea, or imperious motor impulse, our innate or acquired mentality. Man has no power whatever save what his bodily condition makes possible. There is not the slightest trace of spon- taneity. But the cause of the abnormal mentality once seen, together with its moral cause, it is possible by the aid of suggestion and reeducation to give a more rational mentality, establish a new conviction, which must in turn influence the will. As we have noted in the preceding chapter, Dubois regards suggestibility as a mental defect, not a condition to be fostered. The individual should therefore be brought to knowledge of himself from the point of view of good sense, reason, the preservation of self-control. He should be taught to stand guard over his mentality, lest persua- sion should take him unawares by appeal to the emotions and inner desires. It is also necessary to guard against the subtle effect of suggestions which we have taken on in the past and which linger in the unconscious, offsetting our rational endeavors even when we think we are solely influenced by cool reasoning. "A critical spirit is by far the best preservative against the numerous functional troubles which are called forth by means of mental representations. It is our moral stamina which gives us strength to resist these debilitating influences. "9 It is our duty to transform our inner tem- perament into an acquired character. The work of 9 Ibid., p. 116. Psychotherapy 197 psychotherapy is of great constructive value in inculcating self-control, in preventing the recurrence of nervous dis- orders. The great secret and highest obligation of this therapy is to make the patient see the disorder rationally so that he himself will find the road to freedom. Explanation.-The most significant results of scientific therapy in the psychic field are seen in the emphasis on the individual, whose type is to be studied, the hidden causes noted, the consequences made plain; and in the method of reeducation whereby the patient is put into better possession of his own powers. For this is a distinct advance beyond dependence on suggestion. Explanation takes the place of the effort to influence a patient through appeal to the emotions. The patient is encouraged to profit by knowledge of causes and their effects, to see the law for himself, and progress to the stage of rational adjustment to his environment, through prudence, moder- ation and equanimity. This method of reeducation may be developed without limit. In fact, all people who are sufficiently intelligent and responsive to make ready use of the teachings of the science, psychologically interpreted, might acquire an art of health for themselves so that in- stead of depending on any therapy to cure them of their diseases they would habitually cultivate that mode of adaptation to nature which makes for health in the broad- est sense of the term. The Process of Cure.-Many attempts have been made to explain the power of suggestion over the organism, on the assumption that suggestion is always the decisive factor. The current explanation runs somewhat as fol- lows: the unconscious is by far the larger and more re- sponsive part of our nature, it never sleeps, it is partly released from its repressions during sleep; hence a state resembling sleep will be most likely to foster the work of favorable suggestion. In recent terminology, the un- conscious is "a wish-field" (Pierce), it can control the muscles and nerves without conscious attention, it is in touch with the entire organism, it is able to effect changes over both the voluntary and involuntary systems, it is the 198 Psychology of the Hidden Self seat of the imagination, and its tendency is to seek grat- ification with the least possible effort to the organism. In the case of conflict between two ideas, for instance, "I love," and "I do not love," the true idea, as Pierce puts the matter, "is always the idea which is actually in force and dominating the conduct . . . [this] is the actually operative suggestion. It is in harmony with the present unconscious wishes." A suggestion, to get into action, must then stimulate an affect which is strong enough to overcome any other then present, and thus pre-empt the right of way.10 Pierce calls the law by which a given suggestion becomes dynamic and supervenes above all others, so that it appropriates sufficient energy to dominate the unconscious, "the law of the dominant affect." Mind and Brain.-It is difficult to find books on psy- chotherapy which do justice to both mind and matter without confusing either, which chronicle the facts of mental influence without attributing too much power to "thought." Sadler touches on the heart of the difficulty by asking the question: Does the mind have a body, or does the body have a mind ?11 Physicians and physiol- ogists are frequently inclined to the position that the body has a mind, that the mind is simply the function of the nervous system. Sensuous individuals and those who have a minimum degree of self-control, victims of intem- perate appetites and vicious passions, seem to prove this; but when there is superiority of intelligence the situation is very different: mind is really the monitor of health. The mind, through the nervous system, and within certain limits, has considerable control over the functions of the body, with power to influence and modify these functions at will; on the other hand, the sympathetic nervous system is nature's great barrier against the whims of the mind. Mind and brain must not then be confused. The uni- fication of the individual is effected by two distinct in- fluences: (1) the chemical messages which are carried to 10 Frederick Pierce, Our Unconscious Mind and How to Use It, 1922, p. 111. 11 The Physiology of Faith and Fear, Chap. I. Psychotherapy 199 every cell by the circulation (hormones); and (2) mental messages which reach the cells by way of the nervous system (nerve impulses). Man is a mind with a body, and the balance of power not infrequently rests with the mental attitude. Mind never fails to impress itself upon matter. For every mental process there never fails to follow some response; this physical response to mental stimuli may be either conscious or unconscious, observed or unobserved, but is none the less real. Fear is able to set in operation many physical reactions which soon pass beyond the regulatory power of mind. The influences operate both ways: while sunshine and good weather ele- vate the emotions, fogs and cloudy weather universally depress the physical functions and decrease mental activi- ties. Shallow breathers are nearly always despondent and discouraged. The stomach, digestion, and dyspepsia all exert an influence on mental state. Thinking is directly related to eating: gluttony, intemperance, and dietetic ignorance all react disastrously to the weakening of mental powers. Self-poisoning or auto-intoxication is not infre- quently mistaken for moral perversity and mental insub- ordination. Fear and Faith.-Sadler uses the term "fear" to in- clude pessimism, dissatisfaction, grief, anxiety, despond- ency, hatred, worry, moroseness, anger, and vacillation. Its corrective is faith, which represents optimism, satis- faction, happiness, confidence, assurance, hopefulness, cheerfulness, courage, and determination. Fear demoral- izes the intellect, while faith is essential to healthy mental action. Every bodily sensation is capable of being per- verted and distorted by fear; fear intensifies pain, mis- represents sensation, exaggerates abnormal feelings, and gives rise to false ideas regarding the bodily state; de- stroys the power of the mind to reflect; predisposes to panicky and premature mental action; demoralizes the imagination, and deranges the whole process of digestion; it is a mental blight, a moral mildew, and an intellectual poison. Faith favors the normal workings of the nervous mechanism; steadies the imagination, and is stimulating 200 Psychology of the Hidden Self in many other ways. It is the master key to mental health, is a health-producer. Worry.-Worry may be caused by bad breathing, by the physical state, as well as by adverse mental states. In turn, it may cause heart-disease, affect the circulation, lead to drinking, angemia, affect the digestive secretions, nutri- tion, cause brain-fag, and many other conditions or states. Fear is its ancestor. Numerous habits and physical prac- tices are contributory to it. Undue solicititude for our own general welfare, material prosperity, and happiness, and for that of our loved ones is the general cause. Worry and anxiety never fail to detract from the enjoy- ment of life, to destroy our peace; and not infrequently they store up for the future that which will destroy the very happiness for the love of which we are wont to worry. The magnification of trifles is a potent cause, also a chronic habit of kicking. Sensation, fear, and attention are the factors in the 11 vicious worry circle." We must learn to strike a balance between the dangers which threaten us from too much work and the friction attendant upon it, and too much rest and rust of character. Each day's efforts should be divided into the essential and the unes- sential. An imaginary worry may be unreal, but a worried imagination is very real. Mental work never kills, but mental work plus worry is highly injurious. Thousands are made miserable by special fears, phobias, and hoodoos. To overcome worry confidence must be restored, confi- dence in one's self and the development of faith in one's associates. All methods of sympathy, suggestion and advice to mental sufferers should be based upon truth, free from falsity and deception. The mind should be trained to positive thoughts. To acquire self-control is the great secret. The majority of our fears and worries should be liberally discounted. We may well minimize our difficulties. We should sleep over things before taking them too seriously. We should have a good job, a good fad, and a good religion. Summary.-The conclusions of Dubois and others in this field indicate that nervous disorders are manifesta- Psychotherapy 201 tions of our modern social life, with its hurry and drive, its nervous extravagances and intensities. Popular no- tions that all diseases are due to mental causes are not confirmed, but mental causes are put in their psycho- physical setting, with strong emphasis on states of the brain and nervous system. Popular belief in suggestion as the great specific is partly substantiated, since sugges- tion is found to play a highly influential part in the process of restoration. The result is renewed interest in the un- conscious, which appears to be the field of operations so long as it is a question of hidden interior conditions, the triumph of a dynamic suggestion over its opponents, by "the law of the dominant affect." But the tendency of therapists and teachers in this field has been to substi- tute other methods for suggestion, in so far as it is a ques- tion of deep-lying experiences which need to be analyzed and explained. Suggestion appeals especially to sensi- tively organized and emotional people, to those who have not strength of character or intellect to resist; it has less effect upon individuals in whom either will or intellect is strong. Suggestibility is one characteristic of our nature only. The center of operations is not always in the unconscious. The aim of the higher therapy is to give knowledge of causes, to put the individual in com- mand of his resources, to encourage him to become critical, rational, free. The tendency of psychotherapists is toward the deter- minism of brain events and conditions. Some assume un- critically that the brain is the mind. Hence it is important to reconsider all conclusions in the light of other depart- ments of psychology. To draw inferences from psycho- therapy of real social value it would be desirable (with James) to adopt the common-sense point of view that mind and brain interact, that the mind is really "effica- cious," and can foster conditions which make for per- manent health by acquiring better habits. The question of determinism lies, in the last analysis, outside the field of psychology. It is within the province of psychology to describe all mentally efficient states, such as the affirmative 202 Psychology of the Hidden Self attitude, from the point of view of their utility. To in- dulge in manifold qualifications is to become lost in rela- tivities. Psychotherapy encourages the individual to regain confidence, acquire self-control, conquer fear, eliminate unfavorable emotions of all sorts, substitute a strong attitude for a weak one. To understand its method of reeducation it is essential to take psychoanalysis into account, as a special instance of the attempt to explain the individual to himself. Tuckey, C. L., Hypnotism and Suggestion, 1907. Walsh, J. J., Text-book in Psychotherapy, 1910. Severn, E., Psycho-Therapy: Its Doctrine and Practice, 1914. Jelliffe and White, Diseases of the Nervous System, 1915. Coriat, I. H., Abnormal Psychology, 1910, Chap. VII. Prince, M., The Unconscious, 1914. Dubois, P., The Psychic Treatment of Nervous Disorders, trans. Jelliffe and White, 1906, Chaps. III-XVIII. Jacoby, G. W., Suggestion and Psychotherapy, 1912, Part II. Pierce, F., Our Unconscious Mind and How to Use It, 1922, Chap. V. Sadler, W. S., The Physiology of Faith and Fear, 1912, Chaps, i-m, ix, xxxni. Ewer, B. C., Applied Psychology, 1923, Chaps. XI, XV. REFERENCES CHAPTER XIII PSYCHOANALYSIS The special system of psychotherapy, originated by Sig- mund Freud of Vienna, involves a method of investigation of the so-called unconscious conditions and forces involved in certain types of normal and abnormal psychical manifes- tations, and a mode of cure of hysteria, neurasthenia, and other mental disorders. The implied technique or analysis is based on the conviction that all psychoneurotic conditions are due to hidden causes which can be discovered and ex- plained. The causes may be wholly unknown to the patient, yet the patient's inner life can be so appealed to through the bringing of hidden complexes to the surface that repres- sions may be overcome, past emotional experiences of a more or less painful nature interpreted so as to bring freedom, master resistances, and bring about sublimation. At first a branch of psychotherapy only, psychoanalysis as developed by Freud and his school has contributed a body of teachings of general value in the study of normal and abnormal mental life. Some claim it is the only means by which access can be gained to the real life of the in- dividual in its entirety, that it discloses a truly objective set of facts at last, and that the implied psychology wholly displaces common-sense psychology by reconstructing the real stages of a person's mind. For the causes of much that we are doing are said to be entirely hidden. The reasons we give are mere pretexts, our actuating motives being inaccessible. Many of these are anti-social. Hence conflict arises in the "psyche" between the craving of the unconscious, our unfulfilled wishes, our repressed desires, emotional or other complexes, and the conventions of Society. The unconscious wish is ever active, influencing 203 204 Psychology of the Hidden Self our behavior for better or worse, every hour of our waking life, and supplying us with subject-matter for our dreams. The acts we are most conscious of desiring are least our own. We know the smaller part of our nature only. The Source of Inner Conflicts.-According to Freud there is a fundamental driving force which stirs the in- dividual to seek his own pleasure, a never-ceasing demand for immediate gratification of personal, ego-centric desires. This pleasure-seeking principle struggles with the reality- principle, which prompts to adaptation of the organism to its environment. Hence the repressions and conflicts; while the pleasure-seeking principle is driven to lead an underground life, although continuously trying to attain its goal. Hence too the unknown causes of trouble, in- volving a greater number of processes than any save the specialist would suspect. As a result of these elaborate concealment mechanisms producing effects which are not understood, the individual offers a multitude of false ex- planations which amount to evasions. The first emphasis is put on the dynamic nature of all mental processes. Accompanying every mental process there is a varying amount of psychic energy. An excessive accumulation of this energy, due to the repressions above mentioned, means tension, discomfort, hence a tendency to discharge, to seek relief for the repressed wishes through other channels. When the tendency to discharge is blocked, the process becomes shut off, and the dissociated state is a source of further trouble. The repressed wish has the energy of an unconscious mental process. Since past experience is indestructible, these unconscious proc- esses include even infantile mental processes. In fact, Freud defines the unconscious as the infantile, together with later repressions, separated from the personality, the whole constituting a series of associated trends. The psychical processes are never in reality isolated or acci- dental, but every stage in the process has its cause in the series. The discontinuity which is apparent in conscious- ness is due to ignorance of the preceding unconscious influences of the effects we experience. The main trend Psychoanalysis 205 in the psychical series is very early determined, although the most consequential factors are cut off from memory. The amnesia is due to the repressions or dissociations. If circuitous discharges of the hidden psychic energy do not take place, if sublimation does not occur, neurotic condi- tions result. Levels of Consciousness.-The conscious, according to this view, includes all mental processes of which a person is distinctly or indistinctly aware from moment to mo- ment. Consciousness also exercises a function of censor- ship over the ways in which the psychic energy shall find expression. Next come the pre-conscious memories which might be recalled. The fore-conscious is the region of these memory traces. The unconscious, normally inacces- sible to consciousness by introspection, includes memories which can be evoked by psychoanalysis. The fore-con- scious memories are relatively superficial, and are built up by accumulation of memory traces which have resulted from conscious perceptions. Conscious life is built out of these memory traces. The unconscious memories are pro- found, involve complexes or networks of various mental elements in association, and the instinctive mechanisms which we have inherited from the far past. In general, our mental life is a product of the instincts or creative forces which underlie the psychical structure, the psy- chical energy which is correlated with changes in physical energy, the perceptions which give us the material of our conscious states, and the complexes which are the resulting mental structures. Complexes.-A complex has been briefly described as a conation with its whole set or mass of mental elements, and more specifically by Hart as "a system of connected ideas with a strong emotional tone." The ego-complex, the sex-complex, and the herd-complex have been defined as the universal complexes (Tansley), although this free use of the term is objected to by those who limit the term to abnormal dissociations or repressions. The complexes which concern the psychoanalyst are separated by a bar- rier from the conscious. These are not as a class said 206 Psychology of the Hidden Self to be abnormal, for normally the sexual instinct is strong, and is ego-centric even in the child. The psychical energy of this instinct is very great, hence it is concerned in vari- ous experiences. Libido.-The libido (inner drive) is essentially sexual according to Freud, but is regarded as the psychical energy inherent in a great number of complexes by other analysts; and is always given a larger meaning by Jung than by Freud. The libido inherent in the complexes has been defined as the potential psychic energy of the whole conscious life, the energy of tensions and discharges, the form and direction of the discharges being determined by the structure of the organism, the system of complexes, and by the continual interaction between the complexes and the mind at large. Pierce defines the libido as "that part of the life-force within us which is incessantly wishing and incessantly striving to achieve its wishes ": it is active during sleep, and functions on three levels, conscious, fore- conscious and unconscious. The infant is said to wish freely in any direction, without censorship; since it has no inhibitions, no morals, manners, or cultural sense. In the two-year old child discipline is beginning to repress wish-feelings. Jones connects Freud's term with Scho- penhauer's Wille zu Macht, Bergson's elan vital, and Shaw's "life force," Freud having substituted a biological for a metaphysical or poetical term. The term is used with reference to possibilities of transmutation. Since trans- ference of energy is possible, the manifestations of the libido are seen all the way along the line from the aim- less activities of childhood, through play and creative or self-expressive processes, or the use of primitive forms of this energy in new and higher ways. The chief consid- eration throughout is the significance of mental conflict involving the emotional experiences of infancy and child- hood, determining the character, and in the case of neurotic conditions causing disease. Psychoanalysis gives us a general view of mental life as including the unconscious and the conscious, with a system of antagonistic and re- pressing forces in conflict, involving a potent instinctive Psychoanalysis 207 mechanism. The mind is said to be a complex reflex ap- paratus or system, with a seat of entry at one extremity and of discharge at the other. Rigid determinism every- where prevails. Every effect has its assignable cause, even the flimsiest and apparently least insignificant mental state. Sometimes very important meanings are attributed by Freud to states which have been regarded as purely superficial or transitory. Freud's Method.-The analytic method involves an appeal to the understanding, adaptability and persever- ance of the patient in cooperation with the physician, the communication of the most intimate part of the psychic life, including matters which the patient will not admit even to himself.1 The method is learned in part through study of one's self, by search for the constant correlation between bodily processes and psychic disturbances, amidst many displeasing implications, the first one being that the psychic processes are mostly unconscious, hence the conclusion that conscious acts are merely isolated acts in the total mental life. This conclusion involves in turn the idea of unconscious thinking and unconscious willing, amidst the "driving force of vital necessity" which pro- duces what we call circumstance. As this driving force includes the sexual instinct the result is unstable, the sexual forces being poorly tamed and rebelling against sublimation. The facts must be faced despite the objec- tions and the predisposition of human nature to regard as untrue that which is unpleasant. Errors.-In developing his technique, Freud empha- sizes his conclusion that no occurrence is so insignificant that it falls outside the causal sequence of things. For instance, the attention may be distracted at the point where a person is most anxious to be accurate, through excitement or a slip of the tongue, which may thereupon prove to have an important content and meaning. Errors are not accidents, but valid psychic acts arising through the collaboration of two intentions. For there is a mech- anism of tongue-slips, an interfering tendency which 1 See S. Freud, General Introd, to Psychoanalysis, Chap. 1. 208 Psychology of the Hidden Self causes the slip. The 11 illusion of psychic freedom" being put wholly aside, we can see why just this slip occurred, as in chemistry the chemist finds that a certain isolated substance has weight. A further clue is found in the fact that people invent excuses to cover up real intentions, for example, excuses for having forgotten. The meaning of an error is found by analysis of the attendant circum- stances, the chief condition being the existing of a psychic situation which is unknown to us or inaccessible to our inquiries. The suppression of an existing intention to say something not consciously intended is the indispensable condition of a slip.2 Hence errors are "compromise for- mations," to be explained by reference to the strivings be- hind. Unpleasantness may be a motive, and the "psychic flight from unpleasantness" may be the actual reason for forgetting names or making errors. The associative in- hibition and operation of the unpleasantness may produce the defense by means of forgetting. The psychic life in general being "the arena of the struggles and exercises of antagonistic tendencies-contradictions and paired antagonisms, "3 an error is one of its manifestations, the most significant of which is the dream, analyzed by Freud at great length. Suppressed Complexes.-The aim of the analytic method is to lay bare and remedy the pathological mech- anisms at the basis of the disease.4 The method is founded on the discovery that the psychoneuroses are due to conflict between different groups of processes, one com- plex or group being unacceptable to the personality, and therefore submerged, with efforts to forget it. The re- pressed complex having taken on an independent life, as in the case of a wish-complex repelled as a sign of iniquity, it continues to act despite all attempts to stifle it, it is the province of the analyst to ferret out the distortion amidst a complexity which may be most baffling. Every psycho- neurotic symptom is regarded as a symbolic expression of the submerged complex, which in one way or another is 2 Op. cit., p. 47. 3 Ibid., p. 57. 4 See E. Jones, Papers on Psychoanalysis, 1916, p. 184. Psychoanalysis 209 connected with a repressed wish. The symptom is a com- promise between the wish and the repressing force of the personality. The substitution neurosis arises because the emotions which characterize the wish are inhibited and, finding no direct outlet, have sought some abnormal means of expression. The signs of this conflict in general are studied with the same great care as in the specific instance of the dream, and Freud proceeds on the principle that there are reasons for the slightest symptom, e.g., the fact that a patient has neglected to close the door when entering his office. Such an act is not accidental, but has a motive, meaning or purpose, an assignable connection with a more important psychical process. For example, there may be an obsession of jealousy, or a concealed infatuation, mon- strously impossible, which could not be allowed to become conscious but which continues to exert heavy pressure. The obsession that a husband has an affair with a young woman might, for instance, give consolation to a wife who has such an infatuation to conceal. In such a case the analyst looks for content in the obsession as in the dream. The Unconscious is Real.-These cases show conclu- sively that the unconscious is much more than merely fig- urative, as critics have suggested: a compulsion neurosis, for example, with its palpable effects, must spring from a cause of no slight moment. Freud holds that neurotic symptoms lead unmistakably to the conviction of the exist- ence of unconscious processes.5 Clinical psychiatry has hitherto been limited to a psychology of consciousness, and so has failed to explain neurotic symptoms. In all neurotic cases there are symptoms, unknown to the sufferer, deriv- atives of unconscious experiences which can under favor- able conditions become conscious. Those who have not psychoanalyzed are not in a posi- tion to express a view about the unconscious. The fact that meaning can be assigned to the symptoms is "an irrefutable indication of the existence of unconscious psychical processes." 5 See Gen. Introd, to Psycho analysis, p. 240. 210 Psychology of the Hidden Self The patient is not of course entirely oblivious of the symptoms, some of which are built up out of conscious experiences; but the patient cherishes unconsciously the experiences which hold the meaning of the symptoms. As soon as the processes become conscious, the symptoms dis- appear, for the symptoms were substituted for something else which remained suppressed. An inner change in a patient is essentially a change brought about only through psychic labors directed toward a definite end, by making good the memory-gaps, abolishing the amnesias, and trans- posing the pathogenic experiences. The success with which the method is carried out is to Freud complete evidence that his hypothesis is true. The patient must for example be compelled to tell everything that has been withheld, amidst the shifting of the resistance, which may become intellectual. The analyst must reconstruct in his thought the process which has been functional in building up the symptoms as a substitute for something which did not take place. Knowledge of the unconscious gives the clue, and shows where to look for the force operative in pre- venting the psychic process in question from reaching consciousness. As an "unconscious thought" it had the power to create a symptom. It is the pathogenic process made evident through the resistance which Freud names a "repression." The Censor.-To make his concept of the unconscious clear Freud assumes that every psychical process, with one exception, first exists in an unconscious state or phase, as part of a system. But many processes are sent back as unsuitable for consciousness, and are therefore sup- pressed. Others which the censor permits to cross the threshold into the fore-conscious are not to be defined as repressions. For the censor is between the unconscious and the fore-conscious. The residue of the day's experi- ences utilized in a dream, for example, are fore-conscious materials which at night come under the influence of un- conscious suppressed wishes. At night the suppressed wish is borne along by the energy of the unconscious, no longer inhibited by the watchman or censor. The dream is not Psychoanalysis 211 a pathological phenomenon, but a sign of the general process which may appear in any normal person during sleep. But the study of pathological phenomena gives us the clue to the whole relationship between the uncon- scious and the conscious. Sex.-Freud has much to say about the sexual life of man, for the simple reason that his critique has disclosed its intimate connection with the neuroses.6 He does not of course refer to the distinctive act alone, or the unsat- isfied desires connected with it; but to the entire series of activities associated with this side of man's nature, including all the manifestations of love regarded as in- stinctive, as well as the various perversions and other erotic acts classified as abnormal. There may be a complex sexual life when the apparent or distinctive evidences of it are lacking. The instinct itself is composite. Evidences of its components are observable in early childhood. Freud finds that all the inclinations to perversion date back to childhood. Sex-life is not suddenly developed in the early teens, as many suppose.7 Like everything else in our natures, the libido, which is the force through which the instinct expresses itself, has a development through suc- cessive phases. Libido-fixation.-The measure of unsatisfied libido which the average human being can stand is limited. Sub- limation can never account for more than a certain small fraction. In fact most people have only a slight capacity for sublimation.8 Hence "libido-fixation" is the second powerful factor (with abstinence) in causing illness, the former being the internal disposing factor, and the absti- nence the external factor in causing psychic conflict. A neurosis does not come into existence from sexual states unless there is conflict, and a certain condition must exist to make a conflict pathological. If self-denial gives rise to conflict, the libido is forced to seek other means and ends. The resulting pathological struggle is between ego- impulses and sexual impulses, that is, the non-sexual with the sexual. 6 Op. cit., Chap. XX. 7 Op. cit., p. 269. 8 Ibid., p. 300. 212 Psychology of the Hidden Self Freud does not then maintain that neuroses result from sexuality as such, but owe their origin to the conflict. When the libido undergoes fixation, the ego undergoes suppression. The instinct for self-preservation is a factor, also the tendency toward pleasure-seeking. Pleasurable excitation involves lowering or obliterating the amount of stimuli present in the psychic apparatus. The sexual in- stinct aims at pleasurable excitement. The ego instincts strive at first for the same end. But through necessity qualifications enter in. Hence the task of avoiding pain. The educated ego becomes reasonable, is no longer con- trolled by the principle of pleasure, but by the principle of fact. This is the most important transition in the life of the ego. The development of the symptoms in the neuroses, involves acts detrimental to the life as a whole. The principal injury lies in the psychic energy which these acts cost, and in the further energy required to combat them. Freud has many important suggestions for education and the control of our impulses, when we shall at length understand the sexual life in its proper setting. He holds that sexuality is the key to the neuroses, espe- cially the psychoneuroses. "Whoever disdains it will never be able to open the lock. I am still waiting," he says, in answer to his critics, "for the investigations that will remove or limit the truth of this sentence. ' ' Other psychoanalysts, following Jung, have placed less emphasis on sex. Jones describes the sexual instinct as the instinct from which is derived the main impetus giving rise to artistic, literary, and poetic productions. He adds that "far more of our daily interests and ambitions than we superficially imagine are in reality sublimations from deeper and ultimately sexual sources." Tansley directs attention to our other instincts, especially the instinct of human tenderness which, with the herd instinct in its most universal form is "the hope of the world." Criticism.-Woodworth points out that Freud's con- ception of life is much too narrow to leave room for all the instincts, the native likes and dislikes, the will to live. Any scheme which traces all behavior back to a few formu- Psychoanalysis 213 lated wishes is much too abstract."9 It is also question- able whether any specific wish, ungratified, lives on as the same precise wish. Warren calls attention to the tendency on the part of Freudians to regard the subcon- scious portion of our being as a very highly organized personality, whereas the subconscious is not nearly so well organized as the conscious. It is more accurately de- scribed as a "lot of independent, partly organized atti- tudes and tendencies, which enter separately into our life. ' ' There is also danger of forcing the interpretation, and using the idea of the subconscious to explain everything, particularly if we attach much importance to the idea of symbolical interpretation.10 Critics have pointed out that we are far from being unconscious of our conflicts and the desires which we are unwilling to acknowledge even to ourselves, the "unholy thoughts" we refuse to own. The whole of life marks our progress into more and more acute knowledge of experi- ence as it passes. Freud calls "unconscious" those promptings and their emotional expressions which many of us come to regard as bodily stirrings, and to put over against thought and will, which we regard as progressively conscious. The question has been raised whether the hypothesis of the unconscious helps us more clearly to understand what sort of thing the mind is, what the concrete human being is (Field).11 The result appears to be negative: the unconscious is neither conscious nor physical. It is as- sumed that an experience continues as an event in the un- conscious ; what should be said is that there is a permanent disposition or tendency which predisposes the individual to behave in that way under certain conditions. It is then a question of accounting for such behavior: if the condition proves to be a certain arrangement of brain and body, there would be no need of the unconscious as negatively assumed. We might indeed speak of uncon- scious regions of the mind (structure as opposed to mental 9 Psychology, p. 567. 10 Elements, p. 134. 11 See a symposium in Mind, October, 1922. 214 Psychology of the Hidden Self function), but it is not intelligible to speak of an experi- ence as continuing to exist, that is, an experience as a detached object. What is meant is that there is a for- gotten past event. The expression "repressed infantile experience" is then merely a metaphor. There has also been a confusion between mental dispositions and the act of memory (Laird). The psychoanalysts have indeed shown us that "we have many tendencies which were hitherto unsuspected or ignored, and that many of our dispositions have sinuous, sinister, and surprising effects." But this is another story. We do not need to assume that a remote event might be the immediate antecedent of a present process, if we find an explanation in the ripening and development of dispositions. There is no intelligent meaning in speaking of an unconscious wish, desire or idea. But we may intelligibly speak of (1) reflective self- consciousness, and (2) consciousness simpliciter. That is, consciousness connected, and consciousness dispersed, focal and marginal, schematic and detailed. To say then that ideas are "split off" is only to say that our thoughts are disconnected. In other words, the contrasts are drawn by analysis of consciousness. Freud's Contributions.-In reply to Freud's critics it has been shown that some of the reactions are purely academic, by writers who have done nothing for individ- uals needing light on the greater problems of the self, and those who have ignored the real value of Freud's studies in sex. The purport of his teaching in regard to sex is "only too well understood," that is, so many of our cherished illusions have fallen that we are hardly ready to admit the truths which he has taught us. No one in fact who has penetrated the intimate life of persons struggling with the deeper problems of the self can deny then that sex is active in some form (Brill). Freud has shown the supreme importance of the sexual instinct, its constant conflicts with the herd instinct, and the signifi- cant part played in our mental life by the psychical energy welling up from the unconscious. No one has more clearly shown the unity of all mental life in relation to causal Psychoanalysis 215 sequences. If Freud's emphasis on certain phases of sexual life is too strong, this emphasis was greatly needed that students of human nature might recognize the larger truth, namely, that the sexual instinct as thus brought to the fore comprises the whole love-life of the individual (Brill). When this truth is put in its proper setting in relation to will, instincts, and the emotions as a whole, what we have as prime result is a fundamental insight into human nature, namely, that "love is the life of man." It does not follow, as some partisans claim, that Freud has "radically altered all our views of human nature." It has not yet been proved that "the unconscious forms the basis of the entire mind." What has been made more clear is that the primary instincts reside in the unconscious and manifest their presence in other forms, that the un- conscious should be regarded as dynamic, that our motives are more disguised than we had supposed, and that our inner conflicts with their repressions and complexes are more far-reaching. These points once clear, we may as- similate Freud's contributions in relation to psychological knowledge gained in other connections. For instance, Freud's "censor" is plainly the collective inhibitions with which the mind meets experience in gen- eral, it is not different from the activity which checks hetero-suggestion. It is only recently that psychology has begun to give sufficient attention to inhibition in this larger sense of the term. Again, new light is thrown on the tendency of the mind to symbolize, to evade and procrasti- nate instead of facing the whole situation; this is no mere intellectual process, as some have supposed, but involves attitudes toward our psychic life such that we must pay the penalty for our evasiveness. The determinism of the whole system of processes which constitute our total nature was never more emphatically shown than by Freud. If there is what Jung has called a "collective" unconscious representing the experience of the race, and a personal unconscious derived from individual experiences, we are in a better position to define the whole work of the indi- vidual in becoming aware of hitherto disguised motives. 216 Psychology of the Hidden Self Freud has shifted the balance anew from mere general- ities, and shown the necessity of knowing the individual down to the foundation. It would be a misapprehension to dissociate the Freudian unconscious from the conscious, as if it were a compart- ment. The real issue turns upon the emphasis to be put upon the unconscious as a part only of our total mental life. "The unconscious," says Freud, "is the larger circle which includes within itself the smaller circle of the conscious; everything conscious has its preliminary step in the unconscious. . . . The unconscious is the real psychic; its inner nature is just as unknown to us as the reality of the external world, and it is just as imperfectly reported to us through the data of consciousness as is the external world through the indications of our sensory organs. ' '12 What Freud should say is that the sphere of experience is larger than that of the interpretative thought whose circles are constantly widening as our knowledge grows. We are unable to break through the limitations of mind and matter as we know them to learn what objective reality is apart from our experience of it. The Freudian unconscious is a concept, a rival view of a specialized region within the total sphere of personal experience. We have been more handicapped than we suspected by repres- sions which impede the flow of experience into the region known as consciousness. But it does not by any means follow that "the real psychic" is the unconscious. That would be absurd. The real psychic is consciousness, in which we discriminate constituents, worths, interests, and from which we construct a conception of the self. The best result coming from Freud's emphasis on the uncon- scious is seen in the case of writers like Tansley, Trotter, and Hamblin Smith, who have approached some of the great issues of life with fresh impetus. 12 The Interpretation of Dreams, trans., p. 486. Psychoanalysis 217 Freud, S., Psychopathology of Everyday Life, trans., A. A. Brill, 1917; The Interpretation of Dreams, trans., Brill, 1913; General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, trans., Stanley Hall, 1920. Jones, E., Papers on Psychoanalysis, 1916. Brill, A. A., Psychoanalysis: Its Theories and Practical Applica- tion, 1914; Fundamental Conceptions of Psychoanalysis, 1921. Jung, C. G., Psychology of the Unconscious, trans., B. M. Hinkle, 1916; Analytic Psychology, trans., C. E. Long, 1916. Tridon, A., Psychoanalysis and Behavior, 1920. Lay, Wilfred, The Child's Unconscious Mind, 1919; Man's Un- conscious Conflict, 1920. Tansley, A. G., The New Psychology, 1920, Chap. IV. Severn, E., The Psychology of Behavior, 1917, Chap. VI. O'Higgins, Harvey, The Secret Springs, 1920. REFERENCES CHAPTER XIV SLEEP AND DREAMS Sleep has been supposed to be merely a state of rest required because we are fatigued. As it is preceded by a suspension of the voluntary exercise of bodily functions, the suspension of consciousness has been supposed to be complete. As a normal condition of the body, occurring periodically, the break in consciousness has been regarded from a physiological point of view as due to inactivity of the nervous system, more especially of the brain and spinal cord. According to this view, sleep results from changes in cerebral circulation; lack of blood in the brain causes cerebral anemia, just as lack of blood causes fainting. This implies the assumption that consciousness is produced by the brain. Other theories have been proposed, however, and the whole idea of sleep has been undergoing change since the prevalence of views regarding the unconscious.1 From the histological point of view, sleep is produced by certain movements which the nerve cell prolongations are supposed to possess. The prolongations touch one another and so make possible the transmission of nerve currents from cell to cell. These nerve currents are said to be necessary for consciousness. When a break occurs, sleep ensues. The chemical theory is that poisons are developed dur- ing the day as a result of muscular and nervous activity. As these poisons are narcotic in action, when they increase to a certain degree drowsiness ensues, then sleep. During sleep the poisons are no longer formed, the toxic substances are eliminated, and the waking state begins anew. According to a general psychological view, sleep is an inhibition or general resting state of consciousness, coming i See Coriat, Abnormal Psychology, p. 88, foil. 218 Sleep and Dreams 219 about when the stream of incoming peripheral stimuli diminishes, and the resulting decrease of mental activity in general involves the state of quiescence which we call sleep. This state may be regarded as one of complete in- activity or idleness, or a measure of activity may be said to be in process. No function or energy of the body being absolutely suspended, it has been argued that at least a moderate degree of mental activity may be said to con- tinue. It has been pointed out that many people fall asleep as punctually and sleep as long as the average working man, although they have done little or nothing to cause fatigue in body or mind. Certain facts indicate that the mind does not fall into a state of absolute sleep. If disturbed by unusual sensations, the mind awakens; when these sensations become familiar, the mind does not awaken. The mother who awakens at the slightest sound from her infant "sleeps with one ear open," as we say. The mind appears to be a kind of alarm clock to awaken the senses, especially when a person has resolved to awaken at a given hour. Sleep and the Will.-In dreamless sleep there is said to be the least degree of psychical activity, but an activity which may be increased according to a person's interest or occupation. If consciousness goes on at its minimum during sleep it may be said either to pursue an objective, as in the case of a problem which the mind is engaged in solving, a subject which is being developed; or, to con- tinue without any object, disregarding all presentations, that is, without conscious attention. Sleep has therefore been described as a one-activity process without contrast, with no idea to put over against the idea of sleep. In any case, sleep is said to be voluntary. We fall asleep in the afternoon with the avowed intention of waking up in half an hour or an hour, because we must prepare for an engagement or go on with our work. We fall asleep at night with the habitual intention of waking at seven, or at some other regular hour. We give ourselves over to a longer sleep Saturday night or the night before a holiday. We decide to awaken at five or six in the morn- 220 Psychology of the Hidden Self ing, one morning only, to take a train. In terms of habit, some would attempt to explain these processes as purely physiological. All productive activity on the part of our minds during sleep would, of course, be denied by those who hold that there is no subconsciousness. Claperede's View.-Biologically, sleep has been de- scribed as an essential vital phenomenon. According to Claperede sleep is not due to fatigue, for fatigue fre- quently produces insomnia. Sleep is a negative state, a cessation of all activity, a reaction of defense to protect the organism against fatigue; not a psychical process re- sulting from fatigue. It is due to an instinct. We sleep not because our system is poisoned or exhausted but be- cause we can not help sleeping. Sleep has favored those animals which have won in the struggle for existence. Ac- cording to this view there is no parallelism between sleep and fatigue. Sleep is periodic and may be postponed by excitement, interest, and by volition despite fatigue. Sidis points out that the theory that sleep is due to toxins breaks down because sleep due to narcotics is not normal. With Claperede he holds that we do not sleep because we are poisoned but in order not to be. Psycho- logically, by comparing sleep with conditions favorable to hypnosis, one finds that conditions fostering it are: the limitation of voluntary movement, the limitation of the field of consciousness, and monotony. Deciding to go to sleep is very different from wanting to go: we go to sleep because we decide to do it. Sleep is not so important as we assume. Rest is important. What keeps us from rest is worry, fear, emotional or trouble-making activity, im- patience because sleep does not come. The mental ex- haustion after a bad night is due to the anxious emotions and the fact that we have kept on using the same nerve cells which we have been using during the day. Rest calls for diffusion of attention, not concentration, as we are apt to suppose. Rest follows the cessation of our chief mental activity, namely, selecting impressions and com- bining them into ideas.2 2 The American Magazine, Jan., 1923. Sleep and Dreams 221 Dreamless Sleep.-The various theories of sleep give us hints here and there regarding the underlying process. The biological theory is in accord with the established facts in the other views. Sleep is not a disease, and normal sleep is no mere process of eliminating poisons.3 Mind and body function together in the process known as "falling asleep." We may draw certain inferences con- cerning the character of our sleep from the condition in which we find the organism in the morning, and in the case of our victories over insomnia by such methods as Sidis suggests. If we chance to awaken during the night, or about four in the morning, to find the mind exception- ally clear and productive of insights-while sense-presen- tations are at their minimum-we have glimpses at least of a simpler mental process, uncloyed by the things of sense, in which the mind almost passively observes. If this uncloyed state affords a clue to restful, dreamless sleep, it apparently favors the view that at least a min- imum degree of activity continues during sleep. There appears to be no reason for the common assumption that everybody dreams all night. With the dream contrast enters once more, ordinarily during the last moments be- fore waking up. Dreams.-The dream is briefly speaking consciousness during sleep, characterized by the sleeper's unawareness of his bodily state, and the more or less fanciful play of images which he is unable to compare with reality, or with the percepts of other people.4 The cortical brain functions having sunk to the lowest level, all criticism, good judg- ment and reasoning being suspended, there is a free field for the recall and fantastic combination of imagery. Whatever their incongruity, dreams seem entirely real while they last. The stimulus may be objective, as in the case of a sudden sound, or from within the organism, in case of discomfort or pain. Sensory stimuli occurring amidst the dream are sometimes readily worked into a dream in which the other imagery refers to remote ex- 3 See Coriat, op. cit., p. 94, foil. 4 See M. W. Calkins, Introd, to Psychology, 1901, p. 398. 222 Psychology of the Hidden Self periences. One view is that dreams are products of a per- sistent consciousness during sleep, and we are said to dream only when this consciousness persists, or is active to a certain degree. This view is questioned by those who hold that dreams occur in light sleep, before waking up; evidence being found in the fact that we seldom finish a dream. That is, we awaken at a certain critical moment, when the emotional element, usually fear, is most vivid. Dream Content.-Miss Calkins claims, as the result of acute study of dreams, that all sorts and kinds of con- sciousness occur in dreams, visual and auditory, cutaneous, olfactory, and gustatory sensational consciousness; affect- ive and relational consciousness; and at least such rea- soning as may be based on absurd premises leading to impossible outcomes.5 But although resembling what we call normal consciousness, dreams involve three elements which we classify as abnormal: (1) the element of hallu- cination or illusion; (2) the motor reactions or automa- tisms, such as sleep-walking, which one is unaware, after waking, of having made; (3) dissociations or the interrup- tion of ordinary habitual associations, the unusual nar- rowing of experience by the dropping out of images and memories present in waking life. Emotional elements pre- dominate, notably emotions of fear, shame, perplexity. The recognition of events which have actually happened is apparently as frequent as the feeling of familiarity at- taching to occurrences which have not taken place. Ex- plicit thinking is so often reported by accurate observers that there can be no doubt that thought occurs. Will and moral consciousness certainly function occasionally. Dreams as Thoughts.-Warren interprets the succes- sion of incidents as trains of thought rather than as a succession of perceptions.6 Our dream pictures might come to us in our waking hours and we would recognize them as mere thoughts and would not be misled. For instance, one might think of friends after their death. But in a dream the life-like appearance is often startling, 5 See A First Book in Psychology, new ed., 1914, Sec. XV. 6 Elements, p. 317. Sleep and Dreams 223 since in the dissociation one does not connect the thought of a person as dead with the dream picture, does not recog- nize it as a thought; hence the train of thought is mis- taken for a real perception. As dreams are thoughts, not voluntary acts, it is not surprising that honorable persons sometimes dream of doing dishonorable actions, such as lying, stealing or killing. In waking life we would think of such deeds as done by some one else. In the dream our experiences take a personal form. But they need not be understood as implying intention. A dream is after all only a thought, not a wish. Subconsciousness plays a greater part in dreams than in waking states because there are fewer intense impulses in the brain to inhibit them. Havelock Ellis argues that in dreams we are always reasoning, perpetually following out the absurdly limited and incongruous data present to our sleeping conscious- ness.7 This artful confusion of ideas and images is the outcome of our wide-ranging instinct to reason. Uncon- nected impressions revive, float into the dream conscious- ness and spontaneously fall into as reasonable a whole as can be expected, in our efforts to construct a coherent whole out of incongruous elements. Every dream is made up of action and reaction between a pseudo-universe and a freely responding individual. Our dream consciousness is not so selective; it is not true that we dream only of things worth while, as Freud assumes. The world of dreams can not be reduced to a single formula, the wish- dream type. Freud's View.-Freud found the analysis of dreams necessary because the patient's dreams are intimately con- nected with hidden complexes which have caused disease. A dream is in brief a psychic mechanism involving real causes symbolically represented, a distortion of repressed wishes, intimately connected with the libido. The re- pressed wish when understood in the context of the im- plied complex affords the clue to the symbolism of the dream. Freer expression of the hidden life is possible during sleep, for in sleep a person wishes to have nothing r The World of Dreams, 1911, Chap. III. 224 Psychology of the Hidden Self to do with the external world.8 Dreams are reminders of psychical activities which have been suspended or sup- pressed. Although they seem to be superfluous, they exist and with reason. If stimuli act upon the "psyche" in the sleeping condition, it must react to them. The common characteristics of dreams are, the pre- dominance of visual images, and the impression of strange- ness. Freud does not deny that there are dreams due to somatic disturbances, dreams that are senseless, blurred; absurd; but there are others that are sober, meaningful, sensible. A clue to the latter is found in day-dreaming in which one indulges in scenes and events dominated by egoistic, ambitious and power-seeking desires, the hero always being one's self. But Freud sets aside the theory of the somatic origin of drcams, when it is a question of his analytic, and regards the dream in the psychic sense as an achievement of the dreamer, who must then be ques- tioned to give the meaning of his dream. The dreamer's notion that he does not know about his dreams is disre- garded, he is contradicted when he maintains he has no associations; but finally brings forth one association, then others, involuntarily, through what Freud calls "free association." These unrestrained associations prove to be conditioned in a certain manner, arranged in a distinct order, which implies a complex. Thus the withheld actu- ality is made accessible. The Manifest Content.-In the dream there is some- thing unreal, a substitute for something else, of signifi- cance, unconscious for the time being. What the dream seems to say is not to tell us about that unconscious some- thing. The sole interest lies in awakening the substitute formations. The analyst must wait till the hidden un- conscious appears of itself. The task of interpretation is carried on amidst a certain resistance. The ideas which the patient is anxious to suppress are invariably the most important. The reason for this resistance is found in the fact that there is a great distortion of the subconscious. The analyst proceeds on the assumption that nothing in s See Gen. Introd, to Psychoanalysis, p. 67, foil. Sleep and Dreams 225 the dream is accidental or indifferent, that trivial details are likely to disclose the clue. The 11 manifest content" is that which the dream relates, the "latent dream thoughts" are what is hidden. The latter involves a sleep- reaction of psychic life on recent experiences, which supply the manifest content. Dream Fulfillments.-If there is a longing or unful- filled desire, the dream brings about the direct uncon- cealed fulfillment of this wish. The dream as a reaction to this stimulus has the value of a release, the dream occurs, and sleep continues. The dream is not a disturber but a guardian of sleep. The dream fosters sleep instead of keeping us from sleeping soundly. As there is some distortion in the translation of the wish into its gratification in the dream, it is highly im- portant to trace this back. The wish-fulfillment is a uni- versal characteristic of the dream. The dream distortion is the element which makes the dream seem strange and incoherent. For the libido or pleasure-striving principle is without restraint in this process, and manifests prefer- ence for things forbidden, for instance in sexual strivings. Desires which we naturally believe to be far from human show themselves without inhibition. Hate is seen without restraint, revenge and murderous desires attain fulfill- ment, censored wishes have free opportunity. The greater the censorship the greater the distortion. Dream distor- tion is a consequence of the censorship practiced by ac- credited tendencies of the ego against impulses which stir the organism nightly during sleep. The symbolism of the dream, which Freud develops with great elaboration, manifests the unconscious dream thought or unfulfilled wish. Sex is represented by extraordinarily rich sym- bolism. The symbolism is an independent item of the dream distortion. The work of dream interpretation undertakes to undo the process of displacement (the work of dream censorship), and the translation of the uncon- scious thoughts into visual images, which Freud compares with ideographic writing. The mechanism of the dream picture is found to be the model for the origin of neurotic 226 Psychology of the Hidden Self symptoms. The latent dream thoughts are proofs of un- conscious psychic acts. The Infantile Element.-The disguise-memories of childhood employed to conceal the forbidden desires prove to have much to do with dream work. Sometimes it is necessary to bring to light the content of years clouded in forgetfulness. These impressions of childhood have never really been forgotten, they have only been latent, they rise spontaneously out of the unconscious in dreams; for the dream life knows how to find the entrance to these for- gotten impressions or latent infantile experiences. Thus an evil wish-impulse may have its origin in the past, in an early hate, rivalry, or some other form of egoism, for instance, the wish for the removal of a parent, a perverse wish-impulse of sex life. The evil element Freud in- terprets as simply the primitive infantile side of psychic life, to which the dream regresses. The unconscious is a special psychic realm with wish-impulses of its own, with its own methods of expression and a psychic mechanism peculiar to itself. Our evil intentions during sleep can accomplish only a dream, which for practical purposes is harmless. The dream does not wish to tell any one thing. It is not constructed so as to be understood. Criticism of Freud's View.-Critics have claimed that Freud over-emphasizes the meaning of dreams, since many of our dreams are mere mental fragments, as are our wak- ing thoughts. Frequently our dreams continue the rather strenuous pursuit of the day. The dream pictures are often mere altered representations of what we have seen during the day, with snatches of stories. The process of association by which A suggests B, and B leads to C, is simpler than Freud holds; hence it is not necessary to look for mysterious driving forces. Suppressed wishes are not ordinarily so "unconscious" as Freud makes out, but are, as Woodworth suggests, merely unavowed, unnamed, or unanalyzed, but conscious after all. It is not so much the unconscious wish that finds outlet in dreams and daydreams as the unsatisfied wish, which may be perfectly conscious. Tansley holds that the Freudian interpretation Sleep and Dreams 227 is wholly valid for dreams which are more or less complete and rounded wholes. But even these may not all be ex- pressions of wishes, repressed or unexpressed. Critics hold that Freud overdoes the sex-motive in dreams. Freud's analysis of primitive motives is incomplete. Rivers has developed the Freudian view with reference to our primitive instincts and enlarged the psychoanalytic horizon. Anxiety.-Freud points out that the sex-life of the psychoneurotic is invariably disturbed. But the limita- tion of the Freudian hypothesis is that it stops short here, and assumes that sexuality per se is what the dream sub- ject is preoccupied with (Turner). It is not in sexuality itself but in sexuality as a symbol that the dream subject is interested. This is the true interpretation of this pre- occupation. Turner regards the sex instinct as the mech- anism for the overflow of individual energy into racial serviceability.9 Sex-preoccupation (sexuality), so desir- able as such at the proper season, is also feared; the power sense and the expiation tendency are in unstable equilibrium. It is the will-to-live, to have one's own way and satisfy one's desires, rather than sexuality (as Freud says), which exists in infancy. This primal energy is adapted to raise the mind from the perceptual to the con- ceptual level. Fear (Freud's "resistance") is a deterrent, it conflicts with the life-urge; anxiety ensues, people try to forget the anxiety-claim: in the dream, anxiety is never forgotten; the dream expresses the expiation tendency. Unconscious anxiety is mechanical. Anxiety dominates human life, in its tragedy and in its comedy: man is mis- erable by reason of his wants. The introvert can not project at all, is a prey to anxiety on the deeper level. The dream is a presentation of the subject's own anxiety drama. All anxiety tends to work itself through. Subli- mation is the ideal aspect of the endeavor of the self to project itself, pass out of the stage of introversion, anxiety, over-restraint, into the realm of usefulness in the world. 9 J. Turner, The Psychology of Self-Consciousness, 1923, p. 42. 228 Psychology of the Hidden Self Conscious and Unconscious.-This constructive criti- cism indicates a way to avoid undue emphasis on sexuality, which is in reality one expression only of the libido or life-urge, namely, by regarding dreams in the larger light of the total conflict of the self, and by assigning anxiety to its significant place in the progress of the self toward social expression. Anxiety is a motive which we are all able to identify in relation to our dreams. Granted this new emphasis on anxiety as an expression of conflict, we may verify many of the results of the Freudian critique without even consulting the dream life. For our actual experience in knowledge of self is a discovery of contrasts in consciousness when we are brought to awareness of what all the while was a fact concerning our motives, our actual nature, our follies as well as our ideals. Here is a person, for example, who has made an unfor- tunate judgment concerning an individual in trouble and who, when the judgment is noised about and condemned, inwardly admits his mistake and realizes that he was an "idiot." But when directly charged with making the blunder, he denies it, conceals his own admission that it was a mistake, and defends himself to the limit as if in every way justified. That is to say, egotism is tri- umphant. No "complex" is required to explain it. The acute observer sees through the subterfuge, as in general we detect lies, look behind all mental camouflage to real motives. In all such cases an analysis of consciousness would be sufficient to disclose the whole process. Again, in heart-to-heart talks with people we enlist their sympathy, draw them out on vital points till the whole story is before us. Then we make deductions, indi- cate causes and point to lessons that may be learned, all the while making apparent to a person's consciousness a relationship between elements of his experience of which he was unconscious till we drew these inferences. The meanings were, let us say, obvious all the while; but the insight was lacking. In this sense of the word "uncon- scious" the whole of life marks our progress from the unwitting to the conscious and self-conscious. Freud's Sleep and Dreams 229 critique develops a view of the total process from his par- ticular angle. It puts us on the alert, in studying char- acter, for elements of a person's make-up which markedly show themselves in conduct, in facial expression, and in other ways, but with the causes concealed save to the eye of the most discerning. Freud's results may well be put in comparison with methods of reading character from various points of view centering about well-known and freely acknowledged traits but ordinarily blurring the deeper conflicts. The Purpose of Sleep.-Freud's interpretation of dreams leaves the impression that sleep is largely de- termined by repressions in the unconscious, since the dream symbolisms accomplish little more than getting re- pressions out of one's system. The abnormal appears to prevail. Miss Calkin's view, on the other hand, indicates that mental life during sleep is essentially normal in con- tent. People engaged in regular modes of satisfying work, confirm this view by describing their dreams in matter- of-fact terms. Some insist that they rarely dream, and only in case of exceptional fatigue or nervousness; that their dreams are always matter-of-fact in content; and that they have had very few symbolical dreams. In short, the abnormal element seems no more apparent than in the usual contrasts of daily consciousness, with its oc- casional thoughts which we do not like to acknowledge. Myers holds that sleep should be regarded positively, as a definite phase of our personality, coordinate with the waking phase. The regenerative quality of healthy sleep is universally admitted as sui generis, which no complete- ness of waking quiescence can rival or approach. A few moments of sleep will sometimes bring a renovation which hours of lying down in darkness and silence would not yield. John Bigelow goes further still, entirely puts aside the notion that sleep is purposeless and intimates that it is essential to our spiritual regeneration.10 According to this view an experience to which a third of life is de- voted must have meaning in the divine economy, sleep John Bigelow, The Mystery of Sleep, 3d ed., 1905. 230 Psychology of the Hidden Self does not mean mere rest or idleness; we are for the time being sheltered from the distractions and fascinations of the world; without this separation spiritual growth would be impossible. The spiritual influence and vital importance of sleep is said to be further demonstrated by the con- sequences of its privation: all virtues favor sleep and all vices discourage it. It is highly beneficial to be cut off for a time from the phenomenal world. This view suggests the popular theory of the subcon- scious mind regarded as "ever active," as at work upon our main interests even while wre sleep, capable of co- ordinations of ideas and experiences which we never con- sciously made and for which we merely supplied the materials, and as disclosing progress in the development of our ideas or the solution of problems not yet com- pletely worked out when night ensued. Before adopting this view, common sense insists that we shall regard sleep as a process of removing obstructions: we return to our tasks with fresh interest, we are able to take up partly solved problems and solve them, to go on successfully with work left off at an obscure point the day before simply because the obstructions have subsided during the rest which sleep has bestowed. This fact need not however be taken to imply that the stream of con- sciousness is actually broken during sleep. Sleep need not be so nearly like death as some have assumed. One may as well give credence to dreams which have spiritual content as to confine one's self to the Freudian view. The more profoundly we know ourselves in our waking hours, the more truly may we be said to understand the phe- nomena of dreams and sleep. To interpret sleep in terms of regeneration would be to enter a field of thought where psychology can not as yet follow. The practical man is likely to point to the fact that the best result of a good night's sleep is found when he once more takes up his intellectual problems where he left them the day before. To his surprise he may find that subconscious coordinations have taken place, his mind has apparently made an advance during the night in the Sleep and Dreams 231 main adventure of life. To him this evidence that the mind never sleeps is likely to be of more significance than Freudian analysis of symbolical dreams. For in these mental advances he will see signs of the fulfillment of his purpose. This evidence will no doubt lead to the convic- tion that the conscious mind after all is the primary con- sideration, that the mind has unity through possession of a conscious purpose, an achieving will. Myerson holds that dreams are not important psychical events, and that it is not true that subconsciousness evades a censor in elabo- rating them.11 The conflicts of life, he holds, as the result of extensive researches, are generally conscious conflicts: desires and lust that one does not know about do no harm; it is the conflict which we can not settle, the choice we can not make, the doubt we can not resolve that injures us. On the whole the plain man will be inclined to agree with Myerson. REFERENCES Coriat, I. H., Abnormal Psychology, 1910, Chaps. V, VI. Ellis, H., The World of Dreams, 1911, Chap. III. Calkins, M. W., Introduction to Psychology, 1901, Chap. XXVII; A First Book in Psychology, 1914, Sec. XV. Walsh, AV. S., The Psychology of Dreams, 1920. Tansley, A. G., The New Psychology, 1920, Chap. XII. Freud, S., The Interpretation of Dreams, trans., Brill, 1913; General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, trans. Hall, 1920, Part. II. Brill, A. A., Psychoanalysis, 1914, Chap. II. ii A. Myerson, The Foundations of Personality, 1921, p. 96. CHAPTER XV THE SUBCONSCIOUS Everybody employs this term in our day. It has be- come the popular equivalent of many terms formerly in vogue, so that, as in the case of "evolution," to use the word is apparently to explain all the phenomena for which it stands. The subconscious is said to be the ' ' great store- house of memory." It includes all our potentialities, our "gifts" not yet recognized, qualities of character not called into expression, concealed early associations sub- merged till old age falls upon us. By the aid of auto- suggestion, its secret processes take the place of prayer. It solves our problems "intuitively" while we sleep and, as it opens out into the infinite, it puts the spirit in touch with all wisdom; hence is the equivalent of Emerson's "universal mind." Since it will respond to any requisi- tion made upon it, it virtually takes the place of God, and makes all power accessible to us. We seldom hear about "involuntary action" since it came into vogue. As it takes the place of automatic activities, "unconscious cere- bration," and all factors of influence of mind over body, through its operations we are put in possession of the great secret of mental control. Scientifically speaking, the term also has wide usage. It covers the whole field of dissociated experiences, repressions, shocks, hidden emotional complexes, and many phenomena once explained in a simpler way by reference either to bodily processes or to consciousness. In mechanistic terms its derangements are identified with disturbances of the nervous system, and its states of dissociation are assumed to be states of the brain and nervous system as "the do- main of consciousness, associative memory and reflex 232 The Subconscious 233 action." That is, its functions are the storing up of im- pressions and the reproduction of these associations in the order in which they were experienced. The subconscious becomes in psychotherapy the store-house of impressions produced on the nervous system. Hence the specialist in abnormal psychology refers to the subsconscious in con- nection with experiences shut up within the mind which can not. be voluntarily reproduced. When an experience or complex has become dissociated, it tends to act auto- matically, and can not be controlled by the will. In normal mental life our stored-up experiences do not tend to become split off from consciousness or to act independently. In the case of dissociation the chief factors are automatism, independent activity, and failure to respond to the will in its efforts to call up the conserved experiences. Co-consciousness.-In sharp contrast with this assump- tion that all phenomena known as subconscious are, with consciousness itself, products of the brain as "the organ of consciousness," is the view that the subconscious is an independent co-existent consciousness, purely mental, but removed for the time being from the field of awareness which from moment to moment has its focal points or centers of attention. That is, the mind is said to be made up of varying states, some highly conscious and self-con- scious, others less conscious, and the remaining states be- yond the horizon where the conscious gradually gives place to the subconscious. The subconscious is then in reality the less-conscious or sub-attentive. The awareness of any single moment is a pulse of the entire mental sys- tem of states which, in the case of dreamless sleep, in- cludes the minimum degree of consciousness. It is pri- marily a question of emphasis, therefore, within a general mental life. There are not two "minds," the one con- scious or objective, the other subconscious or subjective. Instead, there are varied phases of one psychic system. The dissociated states with which the specialists are con- cerned are instances of contrast within the one field. The Subconscious Self.-The popular view is that every activity once attributed to automatic and involuntary 234 Psychology of the Hidden Self processes is really due to a mentality which continues whether we are aware of it or not. Much of our thinking is supposed to result from this incessant activity. The mind is not only capable of keeping up the search for lost names when attention is shifted, after failure to call up a name by running through the letters of the alphabet, but is able to think in new and highly productive direc- tions without subject-matter supplied from external ex- perience. That is to say, subconscious processes are not in any sense mechanical reproductions of sense-impressions and ideas based on them. They may not only be new and highly complicated combinations of ideas gathered at various times, but may bring to light entirely new ideas. Sidis has pointed out that there is normally a subcon- scious self in the mind, embodying lower and more obvi- ously brutal qualities, including the irrational, the imi- tative and credulous, the cowardly and cruel. This self may function in riots, panics, lynchings, revivals and other experiences involving violent or highly emotional expressions. The subconscious is not a physiological automatism, not an unconscious, certainly not li uncon- scious cerebration," but is a diffused consciousness below the threshold of attentive consciousness, beyond the mar- gin of personal consciousness. The alleged "self" is not personal, but is "mere consciousness," a secondary men- tality co-existing with consciousness as ordinarily known and likely to become part of personal consciousness. We do not suppress our painful ideas into the ' ' unconscious, ' ' as Freud maintains. " We do not forget our painful ideas. On the contrary, painful ideas stand out all the more prominent in our consciousness. Pain hammers experience into the mind."1 Psychical Dispositions.-Seeking to account for activi- ties in consciousness which we are unable to explain merely by consciousness itself, Stout proposes the hypothesis of 4 ' psychical dispositions. ' '2 There are ' ' permanent mental 1 The Foundations of Normal and Abnormal Psychology, 1914, p. 202. 2 Analytic Psychology, 1896, Vol. I, p. 22. The Subconscious 235 conditions lying outside consciousness, and yet playing an indispensable part in psychical processes." All changes and transitions depend on the excitement of these psy- chical dispositions "previously unexcited, or not excited in the same degree and manner." In the attempt to recall names, for example, it is plain that the conscious activity is only one condition of the process. The success or fail- ure of the effort depends on psycho-physical conditions, on revival by association, the excitability of a pre-existing disposition. The revival consists then in an interaction between presentations which are in consciousness and physiological concomitants which are not. Since all tran- sitions in consciousness involve preformed associations, and the retention of any sort of presented content in consciousness means the continued excitement of some psycho-physical disposition, the real consideration in the case of the supposed subconscious is this two-fold disposi- tion. There is no need to infer that the totality of our mental acquisitions, the whole system of mental traces deposited by previous experience persists in what we call consciousness. What persists is the psycho-physical dis- position. It would then be a question of analyzing this our full equipment for having experience. The Place of Habit.-"Habit" in the terminology of some psychologists comes very near being a full equivalent for the "subconscious." Whether we adopt a purely mechanical view or not, we are bound to take account of the whole range of processes from reflex action up, in- cluding the nerve impulses which do not reach the higher centers in the brain, which are parts of the life of the organism but which may not have any concomitants in consciousness. For example, in riding a bicycle, as War- ren points out, one is "not aware of the static sensations from the semicircular canals; but these sensations of bal- ance are occurring all the time in the center for the static sense. They start a constant succession of motor im- pulses to the muscles of the arms and hands, which pro- duce slight movements of the handle-bar to right or left; these movements keep you balanced and prevent the 236 Psychology of the Hidden Self machine from falling over. ' '3 The question of how we learned these adjustive movements involves the whole story of habit-formation, which in turn implies the struc- ture of pre-existing dispositions. Warren distinguishes between experiences due to stimuli so faint that the result falls below the threshold of consciousness, does not produce consciousness at all; and "subordinate consciousness," not part of the field of personal consciousness, but subject to recall, as in the case of the striking of a clock not directly noticed at the time but noted later. The Sphere of Consciousness.-In contrast with the popular tendency to make as much as possible of the sub- conscious, science bids us explain whatever we can by reference to our psycho-physical equipment, processes or activities which do not even arouse subordinate conscious- ness, and sub-attentive processes which ordinarily pass unnoticed. It is consciousness, therefore, which is im- portant, not subordinate, as popular thought assumes. We know nothing about the subconscious save so far as it is evoked to explain what occurs sooner or later in con- sciousness. Oftentimes the unconscious is postulated when more acute analysis of consciousness is what is called for. Again, remarkable processes are assumed to take place in the subconscious when mere obstructions have been re- moved so that consciousness can function freely. Interferences.-For example, Woodworth proposes a simpler explanation than the hypothesis that the mind has subconsciously done work meanwhile, in cases where the solution to a problem has suddenly come before the attention after the problem had been dropped for some hours. The difficulty when the mind first attacked the problem was that false clues intervened. Those having been set aside, having lost their "recency value" with lapse of time, and having ceased to interfere with the direct process of solving the problem, the mind later takes up the matter afresh with a fair chance to move straight to the goal. "It is the same with motor acts. On a certain day, a 3 Elements, p. 132. The Subconscious 237 base-ball pitcher falls into an inefficient way of handling the ball, and, try as he may, can not recover his usual form. He has to give up for that day, but after a good rest is as good as ever. Shall we say that his subconscious mind has been practicing pitching during the rest inter- val ? It is much more likely that . . . the value of a fresh start lies in freshness, in rest and the consequent disap- pearance of interferences, rather than in any work that has been done during the interval of rest. ' '4 Memory.-Dividing the subconscious at large into (1) the unconscious, namely, neural dispositions and processes, and (2) the co-conscious, or actual subconscious ideas which do not enter into the content of conscious awareness, Morton Prince directs attention afresh to memory as a process of fundamental significance in connection with any study of the subconscious.5 Memory is the whole mechan- ism through the working of which the past experience is registered, conserved and reproduced; memory as we know its workings in consciousness being only the "end result," only a particular type. There is also a physiological com- plex. Original experiences may be reproduced subcon- sciously without rising into awareness. Hence memory is found to play a fundamental and unsuspected part in the mechanism of many obscure mental processes, in addi- tion to the fact that as a process it is the basis of acquired consciousness and subconsciousness, and of all habits of both mind and body. Memory in this larger sense determines for the most part our prejudices, superstitions, beliefs, points of view, attitudes of mind; as well as our personality and charac- ter, and the material of our dreams. It is seen to be of far more consequence since subconscious processes loomed large in psychology. It conserves our experiences, which are not lost even though we can not recall them, as in- stances of complete and irretrievable loss of memory in the waking states overcome by hypnotism have shown. Auto- matic writing may also give evidence of memories of 4 Psychology, p. 564. 5 The Unconscious, Chap. I. 238 Psychology of the Hidden Self experiences long forgotten.6 Further evidence is found in "abstraction," in a passive state in which free rein is given to associative memories; in hallucinations and in dreams. Prince reaches the conclusion that a mental experience must be conserved in some form which permits a subcon- scious process to reproduce the experience in one or other of the various forms in which memory appears. A large part of our mental activity is occupied with acts of which for the moment we are only dimly aware, or half aware: they do not occupy the focus of attention.7 But percep- tions of the environment which never even entered the fringe of consciousness may be conserved. Sometimes these subconscious perceptions are very vivid and pre- cise. What is true in every-day life is true in artificial and pathological states of which a person normally has no consciousness; for example, when a person passes from one dissociated state to another with amnesia for the previous state. Suggested post-hypnotic phenomena de- pend in part on the conservation of these dormant com- plexes or memory-states. Amnesia does not keep such dormant complexes from influencing the waking person- ality, even in the case of marked dissociation of person- ality. "As experiences and potential memories they all belong to and are a part of the personality." "All the experiences that can be recalled in any other state are conserved. ' '8 Many pathological phenomena are due to subconscious manifestations of such conserved and for- gotten experiences. Trance-states and delirious states are included. Prince finds no exception: experiences at any time of life are conserved, while an almost incredible num- ber lie dormant. Almost any conserved experience under certain conditions can function as a subconscious memory, the minuteness of the details after long periods of time being especially notable. The experiences of the inner life with which we are all familiar are, of course, included. "The hopes and aspirations, the regrets, the fears, the 6 Ibid., Chap. II. ? Ibid., Chap. III. 8 Ibid., p. 78. The Subconscious 239 doubts, the self-communings and wrestlings with self, the wishes, the loves, the hates, all that we are not willing to give out to the world, and all that we would forget and would strive not to admit to ourselves. All this inner life belongs to our experience and is subject to the same law of conservation." "A large part of every mental con- tent is memory, the source of which is forgotten. ' '9 Neurograms.-The conserved experiences must, of course, have a very specific independent existence, outside of awareness, one capable of secondary functioning in a way that can reproduce the original experience in terms of another, and in some cases include elaborate fabrica- tions and marked transformations. The mere residue is plainly insufficient to account for all the products, in the case of dreams, for example; conservation is very different from reproduction. But Prince does not resort to Myers' theory of the subliminal self to account for the subcon- scious transformations. Nor does he accept the hypothesis of a vague conserving "psyche" to explain the mechanism of memory. His hypothesis bears some resemblance to Stout's theory of psychical dispositions. The brain-traces include a "disposition" established for a whole group to function together and to reproduce the original reaction. Prince adopts the term "neurograms" for the brain records or residua, the dormant ideas being equivalent to conserved physiological complexes.10 These brain residual neurograms (equivalents of con- cepts) disclose the fundamental meaning of the uncon- scious, which is "the great store-house of neurograms," or "the physiological records of our mental lives." Pri- marily passive, potential, these neurographic complexes include subconscious memory and its functions, a subcon- scious functioning system; a definite, concrete process producing phenomena capable of precise verification. The Subconscious System.-Although outside the per- sonality as ordinarily understood, this subconscious system is a factor in the determination of conscious and bodily phenomena. A secondary personality, is a condition where 9 Ibid., p. 85. i° Op. cit., p. 133. 240 Psychology of the Hidden Self complexes of subconscious processes have been constellated into a personal system capable of communicating its deliv- erances. There may be a conflict between a subconscious wish and a conscious wish. Thus Prince's psychology enables him to think "the Freudian wish'' in terms more definite than Freud's. There may also be a subconscious intelligence, for example, underlying spontaneous halluci- nations and dreams. Our conscious processes in general draw their material for thought from the store-house of neurographic dispositions or residua. Classification.-Prince shows that the term "uncon- scious" as used has two distinct meanings: pertaining to unawareness, and the non-psychological.11 It includes con- served dormant neurograms or neural dispositions, and active functioning neurograms or neural processes (uncon- scious processes). The subconscious as defined by Prince includes both the co-conscious (subconscious ideas) and the unconscious as above divided. In brief, the subcon- scious covers the unconscious (passive or active) physiol- ogical dispositions, and the co-active conscious states. As thus conceived it gives an adequate basis for theories of memory, suggestibility, post-hypnotic phenomena, dreams, automatic writing, hysteria, psychoneuroses, mechanisms of thought; as a rational conception of the total per- sonality in its various aspects, it includes a view of the synthesis and rearrangement of life's neurograms and innate dispositions and instincts. The Secondary Self.-Unlike Myers, Prince holds that normally there is no distinct subliminal self, secondary or hidden; but every individual's consciousness may include ideas of which he is not aware, since everybody possesses an unconscious store-house in which are neurographically conserved a large and varied mass of life's experiences. That is, we possess a hidden "system" rather than a hid- den "self," as many recent writers would have us be- lieve.12 This conclusion is important for all who have uncritically assumed that even the soul is ' ' subconscious. ' ' Prince evokes the subconscious in order the better to ex- n Ibid., Chap. VIII. 12 Ibid., p. 256. The Subconscious 241 plain the conscious in all its normal and abnormal man. festations. Dynamic functions are attributed to the uncon- scious, to explain manifestations found in consciousness. Personality is in one sense a "survival" of organized ante- cedent experiences: reactions to the environment, moral and social conditions, affective reactions of our sentiments, instincts, feelings, and other conative experiences, habits, judgments, points of view, attitudes of mind.13 But each of these involves elements of consciousness as living ex- periences of our past, inclusive of all that we mean by the term "character." There is no hard and fast line between the conscious and the subconscious. The whole field of consciousness always includes more than is within the field of attention or awareness from moment to moment. The meaning of our ideas is found in their settings. It may be found in the fringe of consciousness, or may be the conscious element of a larger subconscious complex. Our most conscious conduct involves the conative force of instincts and other innate dispositions. The advantage of this conception is that although it has been developed in explanation of mental phenomena usually classified as abnormal, it enables us to pass readily into the whole field of the normal with explanations for the less-conscious elements of daily experience, the mar- ginal consciousness, the fringe of relations. According to this view the subconscious is not limited to the dissociated states or complexes, with the tacit assumption that dissociation is merely a function of the brain, as Coriat suggests. Nor are we limited to the concept of the un- conscious proposed by psychoanalysts, namely, that the unconscious is simply the realm of experiences, memories, impulses, and inclinations which during the subject's life- time have been condemned by the standards of the con- scious, have proved incompatible with and have been outlawed from it. Rivers's View.-In contrast with Freud, Rivers has shown the need of a larger view of the unconscious.14 13 Ihid., p. 306. 14 Instinct and the Unconscious, 1920, p. 2, foil. 242 Psychology of the Hidden Self Analysis of war neuroses has shown that activities more fundamental than those of the sexual instinct are operative in war-time, for instance, the instinct of self-preservation. War calls into activity processes and tendencies which have lain dormant, also stresses and strains which have long been in process. The danger instincts are more fundamental than the sexual. Hence simpler forms of psychoneuroses result. The neurosis depends essentially upon the abnormal activities of processes which do not ordinarily enter into consciousness. The solution of the conflict between opposed and incompatible principles of mental activity is the real problem in the neuroses. The unconscious may be recalled under special condi- tions, for example, an experience which gave rise to an anxiety neurosis, an arresting experience, accompanied by poignant emotions, long dormant and inaccessible till brought to the surface by a later process. The process of suggestion which brings a forgotten experience to mind may take place '1 unwittingly " rather than uncon- sciously, that is, when it recurs without antecedents in consciousness. We should distinguish between repression, which is ''witting," and suppression: when an experience becomes unconscious, a form of forgetting which is espe- cially complete. And in the case of suppression we should note that according to Freud it is an active process in which some part of the mental content is suppressed. The suppression occurs, not because this content is uninterest- ing or unimportant, but through an interest and meaning which arouses discomfort (which is conscious).15 Hence there is a protective process or mechanism implied. The special function of the unconscious is to act as a store- house of instinctive reactions and tendencies, together with experiences associated with them, that is, experiences which are out of harmony with the prevailing constituents of consciousness. Hence Rivers shows the importance of a fresh study of the instincts in relation to the unconscious.18 This study shows how to place the sexual instinct, for example, in is Op. cit., p. 17. is Ibid., Chap. VII. The Subconscious 243 proper relation. The instinct of self-preservation includes the appetitive instinct and also the prompting to seek protection from danger. The instinct for the continuation of the race includes the parental as well as the sexual. That for the cohesion or welfare of the group implies gregariousness in all its forms, suggestion, sympathy, imi- tation and intuition. Among other instincts to be re- garded in connection with primitive impulses are, flight from danger, aggression, the manipulative activity, im- mobility, collapse, anger, terror. The comparative study of instincts leads to the question of instinct in opposition to suppression, hence to the idea of the complex, a term which should be used with more discrimination. Dissociation is defined as "the independent activity of suppressed experiences accompanied by alternate con- sciousness." A complex may (1) be connected with the process of dissociation. A complex would then be a body of suppressed experiences with an activity independent of the behavior of normal life, and accompanied by con- sciousness dissociated or separated from the consciousness which accompanies that behavior. Or, (2) it might be any body of suppressed tendencies and experiences which shows any form of independent activity. This is the wider, more popular meaning of the term. A complex should be distinguished from a sentiment.17 Both determine thought and conduct. But a sentiment is far more complex in nature. A complex has affective importance in relation to the unconscious, and as a result of suppression months or years may pass before its pres- ence is revealed by some profound and far-reaching dis- turbance in mental life, such as war may bring. A senti- ment, however, is an absolutely necessary and constant feature of normal mental life. A complex has a patho- logical implication, is a product of independent activity with a morbid quality. Sleep and the Unconscious.-Rivers's acute analysis shows what results from efforts to say what we mean in- stead of hiding behind the subconscious as a generaliza- 17 ttid., p. 87. 244 Psychology of the Hidden Self tion. Rivers notes, for example, the relation between suggestion and sleep. The conditions under which we awaken indicate that sleep may be due to suggestion. A physician's mind is primed to respond to the ringing of the night-bell, while oblivious to the crying of the child; while the mother is sub-attentively on the alert for the slightest sound from the child. There appears to be a psychological predisposition to sleep, a suggestion deter- mined by the special system within the sleeper, as in the case of the parental instinct of the mother. Sleep affords a striking example of suppression: the conscious activity of the waking state disappears; and, in turn, the experi- ence acquired in sleep is readily forgotten. Sleep is pri- marily an example of the instinctive process of suppression coming into action for the purpose of affording rest to the body and mind in less organized and less stable parts, more liable to fatigue. It is essential to the safety of the individual that he shall respond in sleep to sounds or movements, as in war-time, which indicate danger, while neglecting stimuli of a different nature. Sleep then is a definitely graded process in relation to gregarious needs. Health.-Mental health, according to Rivers, depends on the presence of a state of equilibrium between in- stinctive forces and the forces by which they are con- trolled.18 The psychoneuroses are due to failures to main- tain this equilibrium, and attempts to restore the balance. A weakening of the controlling forces is a factor, as in the case of shock, strain, illness, fatigue. Hysteria or substitution neuroses may be primarily due to the activity of the danger instinct. Rivers' theory is that the organ- ism is attempting to solve the conflict between the re- aroused instinctive tendencies and the forces by which they are normally controlled. Sublimation is an effort to meet the failures of suppression. The subconscious then would come into account only when, with Rivers, we have given adequate attention to the whole system of instincts, the implied processes, and the conflicts which bring cer- tain instincts the more prominently into view. is Hid., Chap. XV. The Subconscious 245 Summary.-It is difficult to sum up the chief consider- ations in a field of inquiry where terms differ, where the existence of the unconscious is still in question; but we adopt a tentative scheme as follows: (1) the unconscious, a, non-psychological (physiological) processes, conserved dormant neurograms or neural processes, neural habits, involuntary processes once classed under the head of ''un- conscious cerebration"; b, complexes repressed into the "unconscious" (Freud), suppressions (Rivers), dissocia- tions, hidden systems (Prince) which can not be volun- tarily recalled, buried memories, split-off phases of the self; (2) the subconscious, co-conscious (Prince), co-active states, secondary or hidden systems which may rise into consciousness; sub-attentive processes; the fore-conscious (Freud); accessible memories and associations; activities below the threshold which may well up into conscious- ness (Myers) ; (3) marginal states, the less-conscious, partly recognized or acknowledged aspects of the stream of thought (James) which can be brought into focus; (4) acute consciousness, focal consciousness, self-consciousness, thought, the highly attentive interest of the moment. In- stincts in their pre-conscious stage and the beginnings of other processes would belong under the unconscious in general, but as dispositions these activities would be partly conscious; and there would be gradations of change from the unconscious into the conscious. It would be difficult to represent these gradations diagrammatically, because of the remarkable complexity of our self-consciousness, de- pendent as it is from moment to moment on our past, and involving as it does elements of unawareness in process of becoming known. Psychologists must constantly employ the convenient adjective "psycho-physical," unable as they are to draw a sharp line of division between the neural element and the mental, between physiological processes below the threshold and partly conscious proc- esses above it. The idea of a fore-conscious or a marginal region is a tacit confession of our inability to distinguish sharply between attentive states and sub-attentive states. Does the subconscious exist? Yes, if by this term we 246 Psychology of the Hidden Self mean phases of mental life which have been differentiated by analysis of consciousness, and referred back to 11 psy- chical dispositions" for the sake of better explaining con- sciousness; just as in general our whole science is arrived at by discriminating instinct, habit, association, memory, various stages of perception, and the rest. Psychology is the science of making good analytically that which we can not discern by introspection. We have little awareness, for example, of the rise of emotion, pleasure or pain; and consciousness deserts activities which become matters of habit, the stages which lead to volition, the processes which constitute "a flash of thought." What we are immedi- ately aware of is a psychical immediacy which can not be analyzed till it is gone. The processes which psychology describes are abstractions. The subconscious is one more abstraction-a term for states which have passed beyond the margin, and may be more intelligibly classified as essentially mental than as chiefly physiological. The sub- conscious is not a distinct "mind," doing work which can still be better explained by saying what we mean. Nor has it been proved that the unconscious is a mind: it is a conceptual description of dissociated psycho-physical states. We should avoid any confusion between bodily (sexual) activities and their accompanying emotions (by interpretation mental). The subconscious is a convenient intermediate term, to be employed if we must, and avoided if we can. The term "conation," for instance, better expresses any process of striving which outlasts the mo- ment of cognition amidst which it appeared. The "sub- conscious" is often a merely mechanical term, introduced in behalf of continuity of causal explanation; and only a degree more intelligible than "unconscious cerebration." The term "consciousness" is in every respect higher-even on the hypothesis that the subconscious includes "the subliminal self" (Myers). For it is only as aspects of experience are analyzed out of and interpreted in con- sciousness that any deeper [metaphysical] self may be said to exist. The Subconscious 247 REFERENCES Marshall, H. H., Mind and Conduct, 1919. Coriat, I. H., Abnormal Psychology, 1910. Sidis, B., The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898; The Foundations of Normal and Abnormal Psychology, 1914, Chap. XXV. Stout, G. F., Analytic Psychology, 1896, Vol. I, Introduction. Woodworth, R. S., Psychology, Chap. XXI. Prince, M., The Unconscious, 1914. Rivers, W. H. R., Instinct and the Unconscious, 1920. Ewer, B. C., Applied Psychology, 1923, Chap. II. Part Three VOCATIONAL AND INDUSTRIAL PSYCHOLOGY CHAPTER XVI HUMAN ENGINEERING Two important developments have brought psychology nearer the vocations and industries. Psychology has reached the point where a science of human character is possible, by means of experimental methods, mental tests involving the standardizing of intelligence; and move- ments in behalf of efficiency, scientific management, and personnel administration have attained the stage where emphasis belongs on the human element. Since industry is said to exist only for, by, and through human beings and their relations, the reactions of human nature to the various conditions is the chief point of interest. Hence the question is being asked anew, "What is human nature? Why does it behave as it does? How shall full allowance be made for the human equation? The answers imply application of psychological methods to all problems of human engineering. Psychology las an advantage over any radical or capitalistic viewpoint, be- cause it is concerned with the larger problem of human nature in all groups or classes. Laborers are regarded as human beings whose good-will is to be sought by im- partial study of the whole situation viewed as essentially human. Capitalists have felt the need of a common meet- ing-point in human nature. Since the state exists for the people, the industries as part of it have a purpose which 249 250 Vocational and Industrial Psychology may be approached in the light of social psychology. The abilities and points of excellence possessed by the indi- vidual can be regarded in an essentially human way, ac- cording to the type of man, his fitness for the customary vocations, his place in the social order. If the industries are to accomplish their part in "making men" and fitting them for their appropriate places in the democracy, there is all the more reason for determining what their capac- ities are. The Human Element.-Industry defined as an end in itself is for material values only, as a means to an end it is concerned with human life. "Its value to human society," says W. L. M. King, "can be rightly estimated only in terms of the effect of its distribution upon the well-being of mankind. . . . Standards that ignore the sacredness of human life are without meaning as fac- tors in the ultimate solution of industrial problems."1 Taking his clue from this new spirit in industry, Wera marks out the field of human engineering in terms of a common social interest of employers and employed: in- dustry for the support of human life is an aid to the at- tainment of a larger ideal through cooperative manage- ment, with a view to developing all kinds of excellence. "Cooperative democratic management, founded on volun- tary submission of free men to discipline, is the modern idea." "Human engineering is concerned with the coor- dination of the immense elementary human forces into collective spiritual units for the purpose of production and . . . the integration of those units into social unity for the purpose of the fuller life." Industry has now become a social organism in which the worker can no longer be dissociated from the collectivity of labor nor from the citizen. His daily production, his industrial relationship, and his social status have sympathetic con- nections one with another which shape the meaning of his life.2 It is a question of three kinds of activity: production, 1 Industry and Humanity, 1918, pp. 80, 83. 2 E. Wera, Human Engineering, 1921, pp. 123, 287, 360. Human Engineering 251 industrial engineering, and social engineering. There are many harmful traditions to be removed in gaining recog- nition for the new spirit, and a complete social psychology is called for: questions of personal morality, the crowd, the public, the sect, the corporation, and other elements of the social whole. It is clear that whenever the term ''human" is used it needs to be defined anew. To say that the human element is now the ' ' dominant element in industrial management, ' ' is to affirm that industry exists for the sake of humanity in general and is carried on by means of persons, each of whom is to be regarded in a humanitarian way. But then to proceed (as some do) to identify the human ele- ment with the little that behaviorism tells us about it is to neglect individual differences involving inner motives and possibly repressed desires or a sense of injustice, also to neglect creative abilities. The psychologists who hold that the instincts are the basis of the whole structure of mental life, out of which the cognitive, affective and conative processes emerge, give us a very different view implying an adequate social psychology. In any case there is need of the modern concept of mental levels, the level of human nature in general, and the mental level in particular which the given individual has attained (determinable by intelligence tests). Man's gregarious instinct (or "consciousness of kind," in Giddings's phrase- ology), with the imitative and other group actions to which it leads, has brought him to a point where he re- sponds according to his particular belief. The "urge" common to us all varies with the individual according to temperament, the change in the "organic tones," and other differences. Psychoanalysis suggests that we have all reached certain levels of substitute-formations, in the sublimation of this original "urge." Some writers point to the fact that our whole progress in what we are pleased to call civilization has consisted of such sublimations, as we have advanced from the law of "tooth and claw," the tactics of the robber baron and other primitive motives, to the era of competition through exploitation, and regu- 252 Vocational and Industrial Psychology lated industrial methods implying ethical standards. The esprit de corps has varied with the motive. So has the instinct of acquisitiveness, of leadership, manipulation, curiosity, creativeness or craftsmanship. However defined, human nature has ceased to be a vague thing to be judged at random. Knowledge of our powers of analysis and discernment has increased with knowledge of the elements to be judged. We have said less and less about "gifts" in proportion as our analysis of human nature into definite elements has become precise. Our knowledge of individual differences has also kept pace with our effort to standardize our judgments. However complex or conflicting the complex of instincts, habits, abilities, motives, and ambitions which constitute what we call "human nature," the several elements obey definite laws and the complexity is susceptible of precise analysis. The era of guess-work has passed with the day of dis- paragement. Originally the craftsman depended on his own skill in handling tools and producing marketable goods. Under the apprenticeship system, the advance of the individual into the stage of individual adaptation and self-sufficiency was relatively simple. Then came the era of machines and specialization, hence systematized management, and auto- cratic management, with the theory that the worker exists for the sake of industry, and should submit to authority for his own good. Under this rigid system the problem of human nature scarcely existed at all. Scientific Management.-The changed attitude in re- gard to human nature is seen in the case of the efficiency movement as developed by Taylor, Emerson, Gantt, and others. This movement involved studies to determine the best way to do each kind of work, under the best condi- tions, with the least waste of time, materials, money; in- structions to the worker based on time-studies, implying units of measurement for determining the amount of work any worker could do, the amount of rest required, a clearly defined task as part of a science involving the functional- izing of work; and an incentive or reward for increased Human Engineering 253 efficiency. With his instruction card telling him what he was to do prior to performance the worker was to attain increased skill output, the instructions being based on the operations of the standard man. The aim in view was hearty cooperation between management and men, the lessening of discontent and the increasing of profits. The analysis and division of work into distinct tasks included the distribution of the various tasks under supervisors, each foreman to have his particular function, and all to be coordinated under the general manager. The old autocratic system of business which Taylor's system was to replace resulted in "soldiering" or "stall- ing" of workmen, hence in indifferent work. Taylor held that scientific management must begin in a changed at- titude of the employer, away from the thought of the proper division of the surplus to a spirit of cooperation, with an impulse for contact, with an understanding of workmen. Taylor held that this new attitude would in- crease production to such an extent that both wages and profits would be increased. It has been pointed out in objection that the anticipated mental revolution in the attitude of employers and workers did not take place. Consulting engineers still assumed the prevailing profit-seeking attitude, in accord with the employers whom they served. Efficiency still meant the best, easiest and most economical means of production with a view to increased profits, to the neglect of the at- titude and interests of the worker. The increase of pro- duction with decreased labor cost was the implied motive in paying "just enough bonus to elate and satisfy" the laborers and make them willing to follow the detailed directions of instruction cards. But the permanent in- creased production did not come about, since it was to be at the expense of the personality of the worker, still under the tight grip of the skillful employer. According to Taylor, the first object of the new system was to be the development of first-class men, the best man was to rise to the top more certainly. But followers lacked Taylor's technique and broad scientific vision, and were 254 Vocational and Industrial Psychology too anxious to produce immediately profitable results for themselves and their clients. Moreover, the attitude of the worker was not given sufficient recognition. Under the modern factory system, the worker is not thinking of his work as requiring intelligence and skill: he is think- ing of his pay. The common laborer has little hope of promotion. The day of interest in skill, of interest in work as such passed with the coming in of machine in- dustry. The machine has reduced all workmen more or less to the same level. Time-studies, prescribing how work is to be done so as to economize time and labor to the utmost, aim to "enlist the docile acquiescence of workmen in a mechanical procedure." The creative impulses are not aroused or trained. Hence, as Chipman points out, scientific management lacks (1) an adequate system of industrial education; (2) an adequate recognition of the democratic principle in industry; (3) an adequate con- ception of and sympathy with the social and economic aspirations of the worker.3 Hoxie calls attention to the fact that while the time- study man is supposed to be a man '1 exceptional in technical and industrial training, a man with a broad and sympathetic understanding of the workers as well as of the economic and social forces which condition their wel- fare, a man of unimpeachable judgment, governed by scientific rather than pecuniary considerations," such is not the type of man habitually engaged in the work.4 ' ' The best men in this work are perhaps technically quali- fied, but . . . with little knowledge of the subject of fa- tigue, little understanding of psychology and tempera- ment, little understanding of the viewpoint and problems of workers, and almost altogether lacking in knowledge of and interest in the broader economic and social aspects of working-class welfare." Commenting on Hoxie's in- vestigations in establishments where this system obtains, Williams concludes that the extension of this kind of management will narrow instead of increase opportunities 3 Efficiency, Scientific Management and Organized Labor. 4 Quoted by J. M. Williams, Principles of Social Psychology, p. 169. Human Engineering 255 for self-realization through work. A bonus just to make a man happy in superiority through efficiency is not enough to secure the highest results. This rivalry may increase the productivity of some while decreasing that of others. The trade unions are opposed to scientific management because the attempt to gain recognition of superiority beyond the average involves allegiance to em- ployer instead of the union. Hence new antagonisms appear and we have the old problem of human nature on our hands. The essential conflict is not between labor and capitalism, but between workmen and profitseekers who refuse to be content with a reasonable fixed return, those who are of a strongly individualistic type, sup- ported by the law, by the prevailing economic order and by strong egoistic dispositions. Thus our problem includes not merely the complete psychology of the laborer but that of the employer too. Psychology is not concerned with the economic struggle as such, but with the complete motivation of individuals and groups involved in it. The motives on the part of the worker are plainly as complex and significant as those on the side of the employer. Under a system wfliich im- poses machinery on the laborer so that the instinct of workmanship is not fostered, so that inventiveness has little or no chance, it is a question of a "complex" which runs all through the repressed mentality of the industrial world. But the study of capitalistic motives in individual instances should be no less acute. It is attitude in con- trast with attitude. The intelligent worker to-day is on the alert for disguised motives, for efficiency schemes which do not really benefit the laborer. He is skeptical of any "system." Enforced efficiency reached its culmination in the Prussian military "system," in the governmental "system" which was tried out to the full in the World War, which made of the individual a mere unit. But in contrast the demand for human efficiency is so much the greater. The Transition Period.-Although scientific manage- ment has failed in a measure, the interests which it aroused 256 Vocational and Industrial Psychology have continued, and its activities have persisted. The movement has helped to bring human considerations to the fore and direct attention to psychology. The diffi- culties which it encountered have been regarded as prob- lems for solution under other conditions. For example, as human beings are variable factors in production and distribution, it is difficult to measure their speed and accuracy.5 In the measurement of these factors human judgment is not infallible; selfishness, prejudice, and fa- voritism enter in. Watkins points out that "human ingenuity has not yet been successful in determining the relative specific productivity of the various agencies in production-land, labor, capital, and the enterpriser- so the just distribution claimed by scientific management is impossible." The result of that attempt has sometimes been fatigue and exhaustion. There has been a tendency to reduce the mass of industrial workers to the status of the semi-skilled. The effort has been to adjust the worker to the job, never the job to the worker; hence monotonous specialization and stifled self-expression have resulted. Personnel Administration.-The new science of person- nel administration aims to meet the difficulties thus en- countered by putting the human elements in production and distribution in new relations. Simons declares that the function of industry must first be regarded as the production of goods needed by society in the long run: industry exists primarily because we require the commod- ities, not for wages or for profits.6 Service is first. Hence the workers should be trained primarily for service. This means recognition of the fact that production is in part conditioned by physiological and psychological factors, not by mechanical and material forces alone. As defined by Tead and Metcalf, this new science has grown up as a result of more earnest efforts to " secure a productivity which is due to willing cooperation, in- terest, and creative power."7 Its aim is to make clear 5 G. S. Watkins, An Introduction to the Study of Labor Problems, 1922, Chap. XX. g A. M. Simons, Personnel Relations in Industry, 1921, Chap. I. t Personnel Administration, 1920, preface. Human Engineering 257 the principles and standard practice which apply to the whole industrial situation, including the questions of em- ployment, health, safety, training, service features, mutual relations, and personnel research. The principles in ques- tion are further applications of "our modern knowledge of human nature and its constituent elements" as dis- covered through the study of the behavior of men. It is not then primarily a question of industrial conditions, which may be transient, but of administrative relations with human beings, their "inherent tendencies and im- pulses," their characteristic reactions, and aspirations. "Determination as to how industrial procedure can best be adapted to this human nature which is the animat- ing power of industry, is therefore conditioned primarily by our knowledge of that nature, and a knowledge of the critical points of its suppression, conflict and maladjust- ment in industry." The problems are those which grow out of selection, advancement, job analysis, pay adjustments, in a machine era with its subdivision of labor, and its separation of executive from manual work. There are manifold con- ditions to be considered in plants large and small, in city and country, among native and foreign-born workers, with many methods to be investigated, and a need for a "rounded human relations policy." There must be sane proportion in the unfolding of different administrative tasks involving liberal, scientific, and human points of view, with the ideal in view of "executive direction of human relations" involving high ethical obligations of service and "humanly scientific standards." The objective first in view is not mere efficiency, with a direct view to production, but a prior interest in the ' ' effectiveness with which human labor is applied. " 8 To make the venture successful, there must be new methods, new evaluation of administrative ability, and a new focus in administration centering about the individual. The reason for this new focus is, enlistment of human cooper- ation, interest, and good-will, as the crux of the productive 8 rbid., Chap. I. 258 Vocational and Industrial Psychology problem. Hence personnel administration is summarized as the ' ' direction and coordination of the human rela- tions of any organization with a view to getting the max- imum necessary production with a minimum of effort and friction, and with proper regard for the genuine well-being of the workers." Human engineering in industry as thus defined is founded on full appreciation of the fact that maximum production involves satisfaction of basic instincts of self- preservation, self-expression, self-respect, loyalty, love of home-making, worship, play. Personnel supervision re- quires the most careful thought and sympathetic under- standing, involving employment, training, research, serv- ice, as ends to be kept in view by employment managers. Production is defined in these connections as "the appli- cation of human energy to materials." The problem is "the engaging of the workers' interest in their work" so that there shall be a vitalizing of human activity. Hence the need of knowing all there is to be known about people. This is essential to human need, leading to high produc- tivity in the individual; because there are problems of maladjustment, grievances, frictions, animosities, dissatis- faction to be considered. The science of management with this broader outlook implies the overcoming of repressive, domineering attitudes toward employment. Human Well Being1.-The spirit of this personnel work is shown in emphasis put on the needs felt by the laborer for home, family, prestige, security.9 As human nature is everywhere the same in these respects, it will respond to the same appeals through sympathetic knowledge of character, by appeal to both possessive and creative tendencies. Bodily integrity calls for consideration of differences in physical condition, such as low vitality, under-nourishment, continued over-eating, under-exer- cising. Interest in the family implies not merely desire to see families self-supporting but "getting on," hence the need of a living wage. Then there is desire for association, approval, justice; need for education, love 9 Ibid., Chap. II. Human Engineering 259 of beauty, goodness, all these being involved in "human nature" in relation to the home. It is important to recognize "how potentially fine and generous people are," as well as noting their most elemental tendencies. Tead and Metcalf put fundamental emphasis on person- ality in all these connections, as making for fullness of life, forbearance, generosity, creative power, comradeship in the higher sense. "The fulfillment of personality is the liberation in the individual of those native qualities which make him free, active, and energetic, and which be- cause of this freedom make him also willing and happy in those activities which have social utility. Personality is essentially a social product. It is the best possible life of the individual manifesting itself as a contributing force in the common life of the community." In order for per- sonality to develop in industry, there must be reasonable freedom for choice of work, leisure, growth, free associa- tion, exercise of the whole gamut of human faculties. As personality is central in life, it should be central in indus- try. Labor is not for the sake of industry, but industry is for the sake of the people. Human beings are of pri- mary value. The authors are affirmative in their convic- tion that human beings prefer doing good to ill, creating to destroying, approving rather than disapproving, lov- ing instead of hating. Hence industry should enhance these affirmative conditions, enhance human happiness. The Personnel Department.-The corporate form of management leads to impersonalism, a division of labor as if men were machines; hence there is need of personal relationships, with a sense of corporate unity.10 It is the function of the personnel department to carry this spirit into the entire sphere of activities involving employment, health and safety, education, research, service features, and the adjustment of joint relations. As summarized by Watkins, "progressive employers provide safe, healthful places of employment, machinery, tools, methods, processes that conduce to rapid work of good quality, and reduce to a minimum the hazards to io Ibid., Chap. III. 260 Vocational and Industrial Psychology health and body; protection against contagious or communi- cable diseases; medical, surgical and dental services when no other agency provides them; medical and dental pro- phylaxis; competent, sympathetic supervision that recog- nizes both the physiological and the psychological elements in production; equipment designed to make a proper ad- justment of the worker to the job, taking into account temperamental, physical, and industrial qualification; special facilities for training new and inexperienced em- ployees, and for preparing experienced workers for more responsible positions in the plant. Moreover, many pro- gressive corporations provide proper nourishment at cost, or at least at a reasonable charge, during the working day; time and facilities for rest and recreation, especially where work is heavy, monotonous, and likely to result in over- taxation and fatigue; educational campaigns that acquaint the worker with methods of keeping well and avoiding injuries; opportunities for transfer and promotion, and improvement of technical knowledge; assistance in adjust- ing social and financial difficulties; disability funds, pen- sions, and group insurance; and instruction in the value of thrift, domesticity, morality, and sobriety. ' '11 In selecting and placing men, there is need of being both scientific and sympathetically human. Hence the inter- viewer should be the right kind of man, capable of thinking out and proceeding according to the principles inculcated by Tead and Metcalf. The ideal executive is one who is truthful, temperate, just, benevolent, mag- nanimous, sympathetic, honest; who combines with sober imagination and sound judgment a sense of humor, cour- age, receptivity, and the ability to understand men and lead them into cooperation. It is essential to consider whether interest in work as now carried on is really pos- sible. There is need of scientific knowledge of a fair day's work, to secure agreement upon terms of employ- ment, assure fair treatment to every interest. Then too there are constant changes. No job is so perfectly stand- ardized to-day that it would not lend itself to beneficial ii Introduction to the Study of Labor Problems, p. 478. Human Engineering 261 changes. The effect of the job on the worker should al- ways be considered. Job analysis should not be primarily a device of exploitation. There should be joint control by workers and managers, agreement and joint action. Very much depends in any case on getting at the facts and getting them used. These principles are developed with systematic thoroughness of detail by Tead and Met- calf. The aim of this sympathetic study is that kind of cooperation which shall include all interests and needs, and find the way to a solution of all problems. Gregariousness.-Simons finds the direct approach in emphasis on the standardized human element, beginning with study of the law governing human instincts as the chief motives in human behavior.12 The abilities and trade habits are to be measured by tests which give accurate knowledge of the possibilities of personnel jobs all along the line from the general labor supply, through the selec- tion and introducing of employees to their jobs, training, promotion, personnel records, discipline, productive stand- ards, to the question of wages and hours. For example, in introducing the new employee first emphasis is to be put on gregariousness as the foundation of all human society. " Always such groups turn against the outsider. The pack hunts together, and the stranger is the enemy. For many centuries this was the condition of survival." Modern industry should make use of this instinct as a foundation for esprit de corps. The newcomer encounters the group and must find his place. Then there is the psychology of good-will to be considered in its industrial relations. Again, the questions arise: What creates the desire to work? What blocks it? How can the desire be awakened? How can the awakened desire be satisfied through the action of industrial groups? Planning.-Simons holds that the desire to work is a deep inbred instinct extremely difficult to suppress. There is unlimited opportunity for its expression in modern in- dustry rightly developed. But pleasure and the desire to work have been separated. There is obviously need for 12 Op. cit., p. 34, 262 Vocational and Industrial Psychology cooperation leading to the joy of planning things to be created, plans which involve initiative, invention, creative- ness in free expression, opportunities to grow along with the work, with a vision of the completed work while it is still in process. One of the defects of Taylor's system was that it took from the worker all share in the planning. "Everywhere engineers are realizing that planning must be democratic, in industry as in the state; that a planning department must be fundamentally an organizing depart- ment, bringing to bear upon production all the mental ability to be found in the plant or that can be called from outside. ' ' Watkins finds that wide experience with personnel ad- ministration and various improvement plans in industry in the United States and Great Britain indicate that "thrift has been promoted among employees; efficiency increased; labor turnover greatly reduced; living condi- tions improved; production costs diminished; wastes in materials, time, and labor reduced to a minimum; incen- tives to output and promotion applied successfully; and contentment, good-will, loyalty, and a sense of partnership among the workers encouraged. ' '13 Unrest and friction still continue in a measure. Evidences of paternalism are still detected and resented. But great progress has been made toward mutual understanding and adjustment, toward democratic control by management and workers. REFERENCES Wera, E., Human Engineering, 1921. King, W. L. M., Industry and Humanity, 1918. Warren, II. C., Elements of Human Psychology, 1922, Chap. XV. Taylor, F. W., Shop Management, 1903; Principles of Scientific Management, 1911. Emerson, H., Twelve Principles of Efficiency, 1911. Gilbreth, L. M., The Psychology of Management, 1914. Thompson, C. B., The Theory and Practice of Scientific Man- agement, 1917 (bibliography). Simons, A. M., Personnel Relations in Industry, 1921, Chap. III. 13 Op cit., p. 496. Human Engineering 263 Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, 1922, Chap. XL Watkins, G. S., An Introduction to the Study of Labor Prob- lems, 1922, Chap. XX. Tead, Ordway, and Metcalf, H. C., Personnel Administration, 1920. Hoxie. R. F., Scientific Management and Labor, 1915. CHAPTER XVII EMPLOYMENT MANAGEMENT The development of personnel administration includes a department concerned in securing, interviewing, select- ing, and placing workmen, as well as utilizing job analysis and job specifications. The position of employment man- ager has been created to replace the foreman whose job was to hire and discharge men, but who may have had few qualifications. The new official is not only to select the men but aid them in the process of adjustment to their jobs and inspire them to do their best work. Ideally he should be an expert judge of men. But he now has the advantage of a scientific method of judging character and a precise system of mental tests in determining the fit- ness of men for different jobs; hence he is not wholly dependent on his own abilities. He must be in a measure independent of both employer and employees, able to func- tion in the amicable settlement of difficulties, to adopt the workman's point of view so that he shall win the loyalty of the men while at the same time fostering loy- alty to the company. He must then have in mind the rul- ing impulses of the worker, and supervise working condi- tions, seek friendliness among all according to the higher standards of personnel administration. Labor Turnover.-Another development has led to employment management in recent years. Conditions have resulted in a large labor turnover or separations from service on the part of men quitting their jobs, discharged or laid off. Labor turnover is defined as the measure of stabilized production, maladjustment between the require- ments of industry and of the workers, due to the constant flow from one factory to another, to increasing subdivision of labor processes, and the shifting of nomadic less skilled 264 Employment Management 265 workers. The employment manager has been developed to decrease the turnover, lower the costs of production, increase profits, work for the good of all concerned. A small turnover means less cost in breaking in new men and should result in increased efficiency, because the men are more accustomed to working together, and there is opportunity for greater cooperation.1 The Employment Manager.-The new official is con- cerned with all phases of the human situation, from the careful selection of men according to the best methods and recent psychological knowledge. to the fostering of the best living and working conditions, the total welfare of the worker, and the interests of the firm in producing ex- cellent goods. He is a specialist in the application of psychology to all phases of employment according to the scientific method, in contrast with the old ways of hiring men in which there was no method in particular, no safe- guard against prejudice, no intelligible basis of adjust- ment. The use of standard tests means the introduction of uniformity both in the study of candidates and in the analysis of jobs, adapted to the situation in the particu- lar industry. The employment psychologist must first make trial of the tests rather than of applicants, that he may find those best adapted to the several requirements according to job analyses. Naturally, the opinion and experience of the psychologist will figure to some extent, since there is diversity of view regarding the tests, what they disclose and what supplementary methods of judging character must be employed. General Problems.-The supervision of living as well as working conditions involves taking account of such in- stincts as rivalry, the impulses of the men that seek sat- isfaction in hours of relaxation, in ambitions for the home. In working for loyalty to the company, the man- ager has opportunities to foster the same lines of control which labor leaders exercise, through intimate contact with the men. Williams expresses the view that the employment manager is more effective as a controlling agent than the i See Williams, Principles of Social Psychology, p. 154. 266 Vocational and Industrial Psychology foreman "because his subservience to the company is less obvious."2 As he has a "white collar job" the workmen have more respect for him, and as he did not come from the ranks he is supposed to know more than a superior of lowly origin. His control is increased if he is able to get from the employers what the leaders of the workmen acknowledge to be fair. "If he is clever he will cultivate a friendly relation with leaders and compel the manage- ment to surrender some of the profits of the business in the interest of fair play as those influential with workmen conceive it. This friendly relation with workmen is pos- sible in that he is not in a position of a foreman who must get out the product." R. B. Wolf, who speaks from actual experience as em- ployment manager in a large industry, holds that the solving of conflicts calls for "a constant development of the intellect of the men in the organization. In other words, it is an educational process and the function of the management becomes primarily educational in nature. It is more a question of leadership than of compelling obedience. ... We have succeeded in getting every man in the organization (I say this in its broadest sense) trying to produce the largest quantity of the best quality of pulp at the lowest cost. It is not because the department heads, superintendent, or myself are making superhuman efforts to produce the same results, but because we have succeeded in getting every one to cooperate with us. There is a desire to get this result on the part of the workmen throughout the entire plant." "We make it a policy to record the operations of the individual workman in such a way that they have some means for recording their progress and are thereby able to realize just what their efforts are producing. This brings out what we call the creative faculty of the man to the fullest extent; he is able really to enjoy his work by being given opportunity for self-expression. . . . "We do not use any of the so-called efficiency methods of payment, such as bonus and piecework. Our men are 2 Op. cit., p. 157. Employment Management 267 all paid by the hour, except those who are on a salary basis. ... We have enabled our men to forget that the dollar is the most important thing in life and by paying them liberally (much more than in any other sulphite mill) enable them to devote their energy entirely to the task and they are actually doing their work well for its own sake. This brings back . . . somewhat the old artisan idea, where the workman took pride in the execution of his work because he had means for realizing himself in it. "3 This result means the organization of a man's activities about his work, his human interests and his character re- garded from the point of view of self-expression. Mr. Wolf frankly admits that although we have changed the autocratic character of our industries, this ideal can not yet be realized to any extent. We can not expect a high development of productive or creative ability while we limit the "intelligent handling of materials and forces to the few who autocratically claim it as their right to dominate the wills of others." But Mr. Wolf's results show what can be achieved when there is a free field for the employment manager with a vision; his appeal is essentially intellectual, in contrast with that of some man- agers whose approach is in terms of the sentiments, for example, admiration for the physically superior man, sympathy as a means of winning devotion, or the influence of personality in winning allegiance away from the unions and preventing the rise of sentiment for unionism. The Human Factor.-As Link puts the matter, every in- dustry is to-day a center for vocational guidance.4 Most industries comprise such a variety of work that a great range of choice is provided. Workers therefore have op- portunity to achieve success in the field which appeals to them most or for which they are best adapted. Through sympathetic study the workers can frequently be helped to choose the right vocation, and to acquire the knowledge and practice which goes with it. The vocational activity 3 Quoted by Williams, op. cit., p. 159. * H. C. Link, Employment Psychology, 1919. 268 Vocational and Industrial Psychology of an industry has two aspects, the selection of new can- didates for the work for which by training and education they are best adapted, and selection from among new applicants and old employees of those who are to be given special training for certain kinds of work in other depart- ments for which they are fitted. All individuals may be divided into four classes for purposes of vocational selec- tion, (1) those with natural ability, supplemented by train- ing in some special field; (2) those with natural ability, but with no particular training; (3) those with poor natural ability, but a thorough training in some particular activity; (4) those with neither training nor ability. Link describes an investigation regarding the utility of the tests in the analysis of operations in a shell factory where the work called for good eyesight, keen visual discrimina- tion, quick reaction, accuracy of movements, and steadi- ness of attention.5 It was then a question of tests to detect the presence of these qualities. Sixteen different tests were tried, and eight selected, including an eye-sight test and a card-sorting test. The result was all sorts of discoveries concerning the 83 girls selected among 330 for special study. One nervous girl was noted who might have been wrongly judged had any one estimated her ability on the basis of a single test, who was nevertheless an excellent worker. The tests showed one who would never make a successful piece- worker, and who never would have been employed had mental tests been used. In another case it was discovered that a girl had one good eye and one poor one, a girl who had had an ulcer on the bad eye; the experimenter learned that boxes of shells which had been inspected by her had been returned. It was found on comparison that the personal judgment of the experimenter, the foreman and instructors was not nearly so trustworthy as the tests. The piece-workers and day-workers were distinguished in a way quite beyond the scope of ordinary employment methods. The verdict of the foreman tended to bear out that of the tests, all failures were also indicated by the 5 Ibid, Chap. II. Employment Management 269 tests, while the girls who passed the tests worked almost ten times as long as those who did not. The next stage was to find a person to be regularly employed in the office to make use of these results and tests. An experiment in selecting girls as assemblers of gun- parts involved a different adaptation of the tests. Clerks were tested for (1) technique, speed and accuracy in sort- ing tickets and papers, posting and adding columns of figures; (2) intelligence, facility and success with which a clerk could master new tasks, and follow directions about new work from time to time.6 Tests used and applied to typing, stenography, comptomery, and routine clerical work were not at first comprehensive or specific enough to meet every situation; the follow-up work showed this. Test Questions.-Simons would always start with the standard tests as the basis of judgment of abilities. The qualifications can then be compared with the job specifica- tions. The application blanks used to be a maze of mis- cellaneous questions. The real consideration is, Will the proposed questions reveal the existence of a quality help- ful to production ? It is also a question of what the appli- cant has actually done to fit him for the work, not of what he merely likes or believes. As for the old questions pertaining to carefulness, caution, courtesy, patience, cheerfulness, no one of us is careful all the time, all of us are sometimes incautious: if we were not it would be much the worse for the world. Patience and cheerfulness are even more dependent on conditions. Our analyses of character are inaccurate. All information sought should be susceptible of tests and standardization, always with a view to direct relation to production. Letters of reference are of small value unless from plants where there is an organized employment department. Judging Character.-The modern interview, replacing guesses, impressions, the pseudo-science of physiognomy, requires careful preparation. There are no short cuts. All hints of the mysterious are to be avoided. Simons holds that schemes for character-reading are especially apt 6 Ibid., Chap. VII. 270 Vocational and Industrial Psychology to deceive because the men using them have been chosen on the mere assumption that they were good judges of human nature. But, in the light of modern methods of analyzing human nature into a changing complexity of capacities, abilities, instincts, habits, impulses, hopes, "the very characteristics which the old intuitive methods pre- tended to measure are just the ones least capable of meas- urement, and the least permanent." Intuitions are "the least reliable of all the information that will be gained during the interview." There is need always of stand- ardized facts. The interviewer should have all essential knowledge concerning the environment in which the worker is to be placed, for "character is a matter of relation to environment and depends as much upon the physical sur- roundings as upon the innate character of the individual. ' ' Hollingworth has made a careful study of methods based on letters of application and recommendation, and obser- vation of photographs.7 There is wide disagreement be- tween judges of letters, men and women of experience in judging letters do not agree any more than psychologists and miscellaneous individuals. In the case of 20 photo- graphs referred to 10 judges for estimates of intelligence and other qualities, the agreement was highest for intelli- gence and perseverance, showing that people agree fairly well on the facial expression that denotes intelligence, but that each has his own notion of a deceitful face; although photographs may be employed to convey useful informa- tion concerning the character of individuals if the proper technique is used. People are as variable in estimating their own character as in discerning that of others. In the case of a given series of questions used by a public employment bureau, such as these, Does your mind con- centrate or skip around? Have you self-confidence? Are you sensitive? Hollingworth thinks that the employment bureau "might just as well have tossed up a coin, heads meaning 'concentrate,' tails meaning 'skip around,' as to ask an applicant to estimate his or her degree of posses- sion of the traits in question." Our general knowledge 7 H. L. Hollingworth, Judging Human Character, 1922. Employment Management 271 of human nature tells us what individuals will overesti- mate their good points and underestimate their bad ones. But even our general knowledge is to be mistrusted till verified under controlled conditions. We may well ques- tion whether possession of a trait is accompanied by ability to judge that trait correctly either in one's self or another. In the case of reprehensible traits, such as conceit, snob- bishness, and vulgarity, a person's judgment yields very low correlations. The individual is likely to judge him- self less accurately than others judge him, and on the whole self-estimates have only chance accuracy. The individual's judgment is a biased one. Correctness of self-estimates will vary with a person's conception of the desirability of the trait. Ratings and Tests.-Rating scales have been steadily improved, also terms, notably by the elimination of vague adjectives and the substitution of accounts of concrete acts or attitudes for a mere array of descriptive adjectives. Hollingworth regards "character terms" as indicating effects produced rather than psychical functions or ele- ments of personality. Hence the need of measurement which begins by devising tests. A test is a standard situa- tion which is calculated to produce a response involving a quantitative or qualitative evaluation. The essential process involved in all scientific character analysis is a measure in terms of skill-level. The test is then a "symp- tom," the aim being to discover general competence and special aptitudes. Tests may also be used to detect tem- peramental qualities, although little is known about the precise conditions of many of the traits, and on these people differ most widely in their estimates. Link has called special attention to the proneness of employment managers, foremen, superintendents, "and all other people," to fall into the belief that moral qualities are absolute* If lazy, industrious, disloyal, ambitious, good or bad, it is supposed that a man is constantly what these terms imply, no matter where he is or what he is doing. "Nothing could be farther from the truth. The 8 Employment Psychology, p. 203. 272 Vocational and Industrial Psychology moral qualities are not absolute. They are not blanket qualities which cover an individual's entire range of life, no matter under what circumstances he may live." More direct are the clues which one finds by study of human nature as involving certain basic emotions, desires, or in- stincts, which are present in all individuals. For example, in making a study of the human individual it is found that one of the most marked qualities of human nature is the desire for a square deal. There are many opportunities in an employment office for exercising or ignoring fair play. Some who arrived first may be interviewed last, a late comer may get the job. Again, a fundamental character of all applicants is their self-esteem, a pivot around which many actions and attitudes revolve, for instance, courtesy. To treat an applicant discourteously is to ignore his point of view. Indeed, employment psychology is a scientific attempt to attain the other's point of view, to understand and satisfy his self-esteem and self-interest. Hence the value of a shock-absorber or preliminary test, a study based on appreciation of the fundamental likes and dis- likes of the applicant. "The individual's freedom of choice is the central fact in the structure. Any attempt to limit or to thwart this choice is a failure to credit the applicant's point of view." Behavior as a Clue.-Behaviorists maintain that the study of the traits on which quick judgments have been based belongs in the laboratory. Character estimates have been usually based on static considerations, e.g., differences in head and skull formation, the color of the eye, color and type of hair, the shape of the fingers, differences in handwriting. So the square chin, the firm mouth, the intellectual brow, erect carriage, have been taken as signs. But it is behavior that affords direct clues. "One can dine once with an individual and place him in a conven- tional social scale. Often the speaking of two or three sentences or even of a few words enables us to gather volumes about his general social and educational attain- ments. . . . The militant anti-smoker, anti-drinker, suf- fragette, the woman or man hater, the religious enthusiast Employment Management 273 would not let ten minutes go by without revealing the causes in life which they champion. . . . Again, the silent observation of an individual in action reveals to the well- trained observer much concerning his personality, both with reference to his skill and to his emotional balance. . . . The signs of, at least, temporary distress, torture, de- spondency and elation do not long remain hidden. ' '9 Watson holds that our measure of normality or balance is not a mathematical but a common-sense one. Even in the case of experiments to determine normal sensitivity, emotionality, and the like, if you are not sure of the place or rating of a person, "guess at it"; for the majority of individuals are not perfectly balanced; their weaknesses may be compensated for by habit factors, and there are emotionally unstable individuals. Dewey has recently suggested that individuals might be approached from the viewpoint of their habits: one may ask, Are this man's habits well organized, so that there is system, economy, efficiency? Can you discern his char- acter as interpenetration of habits? Can you discern the ruling desire amidst the habits? From this point of view skill is training in habits, behavior is system of habits, while temperament is modes of habits.10 Walter Lippman suggests that the outward behavior of an adult is an equa- tion between a number of variables: resistance of the en- vironment, repressed cravings of several maturities, and the manifest personality. '1 The selves which we construct, with the help of all who influence us, prescribe which im- pulses, how emphasized, how directed, are appropriate to certain typical situations for which we have learned pre- pared attitudes." For example, when war breaks out and hate and impulse to kill are in order.11 Men's ideas of themselves are not then instinctive, but are acquired through their varied economic contacts. We have no good reason for assuming that craving for a particular thing or specific behavior implies that human nature is fatally constituted to crave and act thus. The craving and the 9 Watson, op. cit., p. 407. 10 Human Nature and Conduct. 11 Public Opinion, p. 176. 274 Vocational and Industrial Psychology action are both learned, and in another generation might be learned differently. Attitudes.-The tendency of our attitudes to become stereotyped is a highly important fact. Some of our at- titudes are built up out of material furnished by the external senses, and lead to fixed ways of perceiving and thinking (cognitive attitudes), while the attitudes based on the operations of the inner senses combine to form temperament and character.12 The motor attitudes make up what we call skill. A man's social attitudes determine his moral character. Character then is made up of a vast number of attitudes. "Attitudes, character, and person- ality are not particular experiences, but permanent mental conditions which underlie experiences. Attitudes change very gradually. They are molded slowly; once formed they alter only as the trend of experience takes another direction. The city-bred man takes a citified attitude toward the world. ' '13 Characters alter far more slowly than attitudes. A mental attitude is a permanent set of our mental and nervous system which modifies the effect of stimuli and determines how we shall respond. Every attitude is the result of repeated experiences, hence they are classed according to the sort of experience that de- velops them. Interest, desire, and attention are funda- mental in forming them. The emotional attitudes furnish the best indications of a man's personality. Not even plain history is written without manifesting such atti- tudes. Character in general arises from the consolidation of attitudes into more permanent trends of life. A man's character is his general rating in one of the four chief phases of mental life; intellect (or intellectuality), tem- perament, skill (or skill fulness), and morality. "It is the measure of his mental capacity and attainment in that phase of life." The rating which his fellows give a man is his reputation rather than his character, for character is really the rating a man would receive if he could ap- praise himself correctly. Unless due care is taken in giv- ing a mental test the results may indicate the mental level 12 Warren, Elements, p. 329. is Ibid., p. 332. Employment Management 275 of the examiner, not the mental level of the testee. War- ren's statements remind us once more that all points of approach are relative. The field is so large that different people approach it according to special interests. For instance, Myerson, in his studies of personality, points out that the trader naturally asks concerning his cus- tomers, "Is he honest?" The teacher asks concerning a pupil, "Is he earnest?" The maiden, yearning for her lover, asks, "Is he true?" So the employment manager directs his questions according to his main interest, his knowledge of human attitudes or human nature as dis- played in his special field. Trade Tests.-The trade tests used by the War Depart- ment were developed during the war to meet the problems of placement of its skilled personnel, to make it possible for a trained examiner to measure in objective terms any recruit claiming skill; hence the trade test is defined as "a measuring rod which can be used without trade knowl- edge on the part of the examiner, for rating in objective terms the degree of trade ability possessed by the person under examination. ' '14 There are four types: oral, pic- ture, performance, and written test methods. The first measures the information which the man has with regard to certain elements of his trade, many pages of oral tests being given. The Army distinguishes the novice, the ap- prentice, the journeyman, and the expert. An illustration of the second is in the case of pictures of carpenter's tools to be named. The third involves a standardized practical trade job, with blue prints, materials, and tools charac- teristic of the trade. This is largely a manual test, as in the case of the product test for the expert tool-maker, the process time-test for a machinist, or the product time-test for a typist. The trade test is not an intelligence test, nor does it serve to predict the rate at which skill can be acquired by training. Hollingworth shows the importance of advancing to the method of correlation in the case, for instance, of a group of individuals who differ in known degrees with regard to J. C. Chapman, Trade Tests, 1921. 276 Vocational and Industrial Psychology some trait or capacity. The measured details, such as physical features, education, individual interests, ability in various single tests, may be compared with the known status of the individuals in the trait in question. Each of these features is separately compared with the known status with the hope of finding those significantly related to the trait itself. For predictive purposes in vocational guidance the tests should be made on unpracticed or naive individuals who are then to proceed through training and exercise to develop such degrees of the trait or skill pat- tern as they can. Comparison of original test scores with skill ratings will then yield correlations. Hollingworth illustrates by a typical investigation in the study of type- writing and stenographic ability. There are plainly spe- cific patterns of traits or aptitudes involved in such work. Link has reported results on the same plan.15 Trade Skill.-Hollingworth suggests that if an industry, business or institution is large enough to maintain a per- sonnel organization there should be an expert in the methods of mental measurement, trade test procedure, correlation technique, and general statistical procedure. He also suggests the relative value of diagnoses of tem- perament in relation to trade skill and educational status, although exact tests have not been so successfully applied in this field. Such diagnoses, for example, are implied in Woodworth's effort to secure an index of the individual's '1 emotional stability, ' ' balance, or freedom from tendencies which pre-dispose to nervous breakdown. Thus an indi- vidual may come to be listed as "peculiar" in regard to some tendency, habit or condition. Experiments have also been made to determine the degrees of suggestibility, for detecting moods and emotions, and emotional memory. The attempt to measure temperamental traits must be carried beyond its experimental stages before it shall be possible to apply exact methods to the study of moral and social attitudes. Critics of the exact methods of testing character advo- cated by Hollingworth and other psychologists have indi- 15 Employment Psychology, p. 35. Employment Management 277 eated the danger of a too general application of the method of mental tests, since the tests are not infallible and are open to mistakes. Although intelligence is the most im- portant factor, it may be misleading as a clue, unless we bear in mind that it touches only one phase of the life of the worker, not his desires and aspirations, or the driving forces in him which may send him in one direction or another. So too the trade test fails to show a man's gen- eral ability in all lines of work: it measures ability in the trade which a man now has, the skill he has actually ac- quired ; it does not show what his progress will be in that trade. The test does not determine an individual's apti- tude for a trade, or decide what trade a novice should learn. Job Analysis.-Link maintains that the job analysis is as important as character analysis; since it is a question of fitting the right man to the right job, and it is useless to analyze people unless the employment manager can equally well analyze the positions in which he has oppor- tunity to place them.16 It is more difficult than formerly to combine these functions, now that industry has reached a higher state of development. Trades and occupations were once limited in number, and it was a simple matter to become familiar with them; now, great mechanical in- ventions and discoveries, and the resulting division of labor, have brought an almost unlimited increase in the number and variety of trades and occupations, and the problem of job analysis to-day is highly complicated. This is especially the case since many different trades were brought under one industry which were formerly split up into small shops and factories. Formerly each foreman of a shop hired his own men, the shop foreman was at least familiar with the jobs in his particular shop; hence he could interview applicants with direct reference to the work expected of them. He had an intimate knowledge of jobs of inestimable value in selecting the right man for the job. The centralization of functions has now brought centralization of employment functions; in one employ- 16 Employment Psychology, Chap. XX. 278 Vocational and Industrial Psychology ment office a few men do all the hiring for every shop and office in the organization, for nearly all the dozens or hundreds of varieties of jobs. To meet the difficulties, the new method provides for a standardized description of all the jobs involved, based on a thorough practical analysis of the jobs by persons entirely familiar with them. A set of job specifications once drawn up, the description will serve as a compara- tively permanent and trustworthy basis for reference in all the work of the employment office. Authoritative analyses are thus substituted for casual opinions. The analysis discloses the component parts of each particular kind of work in relation to the worker responsible for its performance.17 It involves the qualifications of the indi- vidual who may do the work, the essential features of the job and the standard ability required to perform it, as well as factors that surround it, the job being "the molecule of industry." The job is not regarded, as in Taylor's analysis, as an entity off by itself in space, with- out regard to the subjective factors (attitudes, opinions, hopes, fears of the worker) ; but with reference to em- ployers, workers, and consumers as well. The content of the job analysis involves general description of the job, machinery, tools, equipment, materials, motions (What are they? are they necessary?), times, records, standards of output, amount of output, pay; then follows an analysis of the qualifications of the worker, the sequence of opera- tions, the effect of the job on the worker, the relation of the job to the organization and the community. Slichter also specifies the pay for beginners; the period elapsing before advances are given, and the amount of advance if a regular schedule for advances exists; the amount an average good man can earn on the job; time required for such a man to attain a normal output; op- portunities for promotion, with names of the specific operations for which the operative is in line for promotion, and the rates of pay; any particularly unattractive fea- tures about the job, such as great physical or nervous 17 Simons, op. cit., Chap. II. Employment Management 279 strain, heat, dirt, dust, steam, wetness, nauseating odors, monotony. In indicating characteristics desired of the workman, occupations should be mentioned within the plant from which workers are to be drawn in preference to hiring outside; qualities like strength, good eyesight, dexterity, agility; in the case of some jobs, physical de- fects which in general disqualify but will not be a bar; special knowledge, skill, experience, or training necessary or desirable; mental characteristics required of the worker, such as general degree of intelligence, whether high, moderate, or low, and special mental qualities, such as good memory, an eye for details, quick reactions; require- ments relating to applicant's personal character, such as ability to meet the public, tact, responsibility.18 Simons points out that a job analysis is not a character analysis of the desired applicant. Such terms as intelligent, pa- tient, careful, loyal, sincere, responsible, are now deemed too general. These qualities are distinctive of no job, and probably of no individual. All jobs require them; all persons possess them in greater or lesser degree. A job analysis must be specific. Processes are described which constitute the given job, that can describe no other job; for example, the tools, methods, technique. The aim is to put a man in a position suited to his ability as a crafts- man, his physique, strength, temperament, character. Methods of Making the Analysis.-There are several ways in which a job analysis with the set of specifications may be made (Link). One way is to describe a job with reference to the human qualities required for its perform- ance. Until lately this has been the prevailing method. But this kind of specification does not describe the job itself, it gives an outline of personal qualities deemed necessary for the job in question. Thus a bookkeeper's job is described with reference to accuracy, patience, ap- plication, neatness, a routine temperament without much initiative or creative ability, and unwavering attention to the job. A tool-maker's job is said to require accuracy, is The Turnover of Factory Lalor, p. 284, quoted by Simons, op. cit. 280 Vocational and Industrial Psychology patience, application, mechanical ability, with little or no initiative or creative ability, steadiness, and other personal qualities. The work of an executive is described as requir- ing initiative, tact, energy, concentration, creativeness. The result in every case is broad human qualities, with a formidable array in the various occupations. In reality the attempt to describe a job with reference to such qual- ities is merely a character analysis which might be made by a hasty tour of inspection and a description in com- prehensive terms only. Such terms are not only vague and general but detached and theoretical. Patience as such, for instance, is an abstract and meaningless quality; a man may be very patient in one way and very impatient in another; a tool-maker may be patient in watching a slow and very important cut but very impatient with his family or his foreman. Hence it is useless to call for a man of patience unless it is possible to distinguish between different kinds of patience and specify which kind is needed. The same is true of all the general qualities. The man who is very energetic or dynamic at one kind of work may be very lazy or static at another. The one who asks for employment in a position requiring marked initiative, energy, and executive ability may be given a job on this basis but may discover later that his work is not at all what he expected, according to his training and desires. So instead of developing initiative, energy, and executive powers he may become plodding, dependent, passive. A description in terms of general qualities must therefore be abandoned. The description of the essential qualities should be as characteristic and concrete as the specification of the job. The actual qualities expressed in a given job are not general and abstract. The man who fails in a job chosen for him on the basis of merely general qualities might succeed at a job in which specific qualities are fitted to specific needs. Personal Qualities.-Is it possible Link asks, to measure personal qualities with reference to the concrete activities of a job? Can patience be gauged? or attention, applica- tion, industry, loyalty, initiative? Not when these quali- Employment Management 281 ties are taken abstractly, but in terms of degrees, perhaps, between good, bad, and indifferent; since jobs require infinite degrees of ability. When sufficiently significant tests are found, the result is a standard, accurate meas- urement of the specific abilities called for by the specific job. The qualities need not even be named. It is not necessary, for instance, to specify that to be a successful inspector one must possess good visual discrimination, quick reaction-time, and steady attention. These terms are still too general and serve in an introductory way only. The requirements of this job may be put as "the ability to reach such and such a standard in tests number two, six and eight." There is then nothing vague, abstract, or general, any more than in a chemical formula. Under the head of physical characteristics are to be included such matters as heat, cleanliness, strenuousness, and other features which do not at first glance seem es- sential to job analysis; but these are essential from a psychological as well as from a medical, common sense or business point of view. Link calls attention to the fact that physical fitness is more and more emphasized, and physical examinations are given more and more. Such an examination should not only have as objective the elimi- nation of applicants with serious defects or contagious dis- eases, but the discovery of characteristics which will enable employment service and medical service to cooperate. Thus men with a hernia will not be assigned work requir- ing heavy lifting, pedestrian work will not be given to men and women who have a tendency to fallen arches; and a large number of accidents will be prevented. Link's investigations show that, psychologically speak- ing, nothing does more to upset a worker's state of mind and make him discontented with his job than physical incompatibility; hence the interviewer must have clear, definite knowledge of the physical aspects of the job, so as to avoid producing misfits, also to avoid misunderstand- ing between interviewer and applicant about the nature of the job. Even if it seem foolish to tell an applicant that a job is dirty, honesty is essential: an applicant hired 282 Vocational and Industrial Psychology for a dirty job, uninformed beforehand, may quit after a few days or weeks; while one who is told that a job is dirty may accept it and not mind, or may refuse it and so save time. The relativity of feelings and sensations of course enters in, in considering whether a job is said to be dirty or not. Link's plan of operations does not throw the element of character analysis out of account. He presupposes an applicant on the one hand, and requisitions coming in from the shops according to job specifications on the other. Knowledge of character is still requisite. The psycho- logical expert is supposed to possess this, that is, he is equipped with methods of testing applicants so as to fit them to appropriate job specifications. One process re- quires the other. Each examiner is an expert in his field. In the employment office a union is established between ap- plicant and requisition, no factor of the process being independent, application blanks still being useful in the work of fitting the worker to his job. REFERENCES Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, 1922, Chap. X. Link, H. C., Employment Psychology, 1919, Part II. Frankel, L. K., and Fleisher, A., The Human Factor in In- dustry, 1920. Simons, A. M., Personnel Relations in Industry, 1921, Chaps. II, V. Kelley, R. W., Hiring the Worker, 1918. Hollingworth, H. L., Judging Human Character, 1922, Chap. X. Scott, W. D., and Hayes, M. H. S., Science and Common Sense in Working with Men, 1921, Chap. VII. Chapman, J. C., Trade Tests, 1921. Tead and Metcalf, Personnel Administration, 1920, Chap. XVIII. CHAPTER XVIII MENTAL TESTS When the human individual is studied from the point of view of his adaptation to environment of all kinds, including his industrial environment, it becomes evident that knowledge of his general behavior can be applied in any specific field. This knowledge may appear to be of merely scientific value at first, namely, knowledge of his keenness of vision, tests for color-blindness, speed in re- acting to various situations, simple and complex. Or this knowledge may seem to pertain chiefly to his intellect, in the case of language tests. But when the study of sensory reactions, language reactions, leads to the study of cor- relations of motor reactions, head and hand, the practical value becomes apparent. Then it becomes plain that there is need of general behavior tests for determining whether the individual possesses the various functions and the ap- propriate plasticity. Thus studying man as a 1 'reacting organism," Watson, for example, indicates the need of tests under three heads: (1) tests to determine the general level of behavior: these tests depend upon the fact that in individuals of approximately the same age and from the same general environment certain systems of common activities are developed; (2) tests of special ability, and (3) research and statistical work in tests. For human action as a whole is reducible in behavioristic terms to hereditary modes of response (emotional and instinctive), and acquired modes of response (habit).1 Intelligence Tests.-The pioneer work of Alfred Binet in this field began in Paris in 1900, with studies in back- ward children to determine what they had learned from 1 Op. cit., p. 43, 283 284 Vocational and Industrial Psychology experience and from their elders, the tests being graded from the level of the three-year old to that of the twelve- year old, with the object of discovering how far up the scale a child could successfully pass the tests. The result was the famous Binet-Simon scale, added to and revised by Terman and others in America. Intelligence is meas- ured on this scale according to mental age. When a child's mental age proves to be the same as his chronological age, he is regarded as an average child, neither bright nor dull; but if his mental age is much above his chronological age, he is bright, if much below, dull. The brightness or dull- ness of a child can be measured by the number of years his mental age is above or below his chronological age. Brightness or dullness is also measured by the intelligence quotient, that is, the mental age divided by the chrono- logical, usually expressed in per cent; the intelligence quotient of the bright child being above 100 per cent, and of the dull child below. About sixty per cent of all chil- dren have an intelligence quotient between 90 and 110, those under 70 are sometimes classified as feeble-minded; and the others (from 90 to 110) as border-line, low normal and average, superior, very superior, and exceedingly superior, although there is a continuous gradation. The mental age indicates a person's intellectual level at a given time, while the intelligence quotient tells how fast he has progressed. The number of children with very superior ability is said to be as great as the number of the feeble- minded. Under present educational methods these chil- dren are often lost in the crowd. Again, others fail to receive the educational attention they deserve on account of the handicaps of poverty, social neglect, physical defects, or educational maladjustments. Performance Tests.-The Binet tests depend greatly on the use of language, hence other tests must be given to the deaf child, the child with defective speech, the foreign child, and those who find difficulty in reacting to abstract ideas. Language plays only a small part in performance tests, and such concrete objects as the "form board" are employed. It is found that the mentally deficient adult Mental Tests 285 responds to the simple test of fitting blocks of various shapes into corresponding holes in the board in the same haphazard way as a young child who tries to force a square block into a round hole. Another performance test is the "picture completion," by which cut-out pieces of a pic- ture mounted on blocks, amidst other similar blocks with more or less irrelevant objects pictured on them, are to be selected from the whole assortment and fitted into their appropriate places. The better the understanding of the picture, the better the selection. Performance tests were also used in grading drafted men during the war, for instance, the ship test, the manikin and feature profile, the cube imitation, the digit-symbol, and the maze.2 Group Tests.-Tests are also given to groups of people who can read printed directions. During the war such tests were used extensively by a committee of psychologists who first tried out the tests in the camps and thereby proved the utility of such tests, so that this method was adopted in the receiving camps at large. The Alpha test, used on recruits who could read, consisted of eight pages of questions involving different types of problems. One page tested the subject's information on matters of common knowledge, another called for a selection of the best of three reasons offered for a given fact, for example, regarding the use of copper for electric wires. The Beta test was devised after the Alpha had been put into use, to meet the demand for a test in examining subjects of low literacy and extreme unfamiliarity with English. In effect it is the Alpha test translated into pictorial form so that pantomime and demonstration may be substituted for written and oral directions. It may be given to people who neither speak nor understand English. The two groups of tests were so constructed and used as to mini- mize the handicap of men of foreign birth or lack of edu- cation, and the tests were primarily intended to measure native intellectual ability. They referred to some extent to a person's educational acquirement, but always with emphasis on inborn intelligence. 2 See Army Mental Tests, Yoakum and Yerkes, 1920, p. 100. 286 Vocational and Industrial Psychology The Binet Scale.-The Binet scale is an instrument of precision, to be used by those who are thoroughly trained in its application. On first thought, such a test appears to be exceedingly simple, as if any one could give it and score the results. But the examiner must know the tests by heart, must standardize his manner of conducting them to agree with the methods laid down, and must be able to utilize the scoring system which accompanies the tests so as to determine the results with precision. From the first, Binet encountered the criticism that the tests were super- fluous, on the ground that anybody could tell which pupils are not intelligent. A standard as to what constitutes normal intelligence is imperative. The intelligence of retarded children was formerly overestimated, that of su- perior children underestimated. Genuine dullness was not distinguished from the mental condition which results from unfavorable environment or lack of training. Binet's results showed that the difference between the scientific and unscientific mode of doing a thing is not necessarily a difference in the nature of the method but in the ex- actness with which it is employed. Binet's method differed from previous methods of experimental study of intelli- gence by its use of age standards, the kind of mental functions brought into play, and by the fact that it was "general intelligence" which was tested. Results of the Tests.-The tests have well served the purpose for which they were intended. In expert hands they have actually yielded a fairly trustworthy measure of the individual's intelligence. The trouble in the case of many backward children has been located, so that the schooling could be adjusted to what a child is constitu- tionally able to do. The tests have proved of service in detecting boys and girls of superior intelligence who have been dragging along, forming lazy habits of work. Valu- able results have been obtained by testing freshmen in colleges, and in comparing the intelligence of the sexes. The success of the tests applied during the war indi- cates the value of their widespread use in the indus- tries. Mental Tests 287 General Intelligence.-Binet's tests marked a radical departure from the old faculty psychology, or even studies of memory, attention, imagination, and sense discrimina- tion, as once conducted, that is, on the assumption that these are separate functions.3 Binet's quest was for the general level of intelligence, in contrast with attempts to measure each division or aspect of intelligence separately, and summing up the results. Memory can not be tested separately from attention, or sense discrimination apart from associative processes; but the combined intellective functions must be tested together. Binet reacted from structural to dynamic psychology, by conceiving intelli- gence as the sum of processes involved in mental adapta- tion, that is, in behavior. From this point of view it is obviously impossible to define intelligence in advance of investigations which show how it operates, with corrections of empirical methods and observations made necessary by results. As a prime result of his own tentative investigations during many years, Binet came to emphasize three characteristics of the intel- ligence process: its tendency to take and maintain a definite direction, the capacity to make adaptations for the purpose of attaining a desired end; and the power of self-criticism. The tests were not chosen according to any single formula regarding the nature of intelligence, but by a many-sided approach with reference to tests of time or attention, three or four kinds of memory, apper- ception, language comprehension, knowledge of common objects, number mastery, constructive imagination, the ability to compare concepts, to note contradictions, to com- bine fragments into a unitary whole, to comprehend ab- stract terms, and to meet novel situations. School and college examinations have failed to disclose this general intelligence, but have indicated training or knowledge in a special line. General intelligence proves to be a combination of many traits, such that there is found to be a correspondence between an individual's 3 See L. M. Terman, The Measurement of Intelligence, 1916, Chap. IL 288 Vocational and Industrial Psychology abilities in dealing with concrete things, with people, with big ideas, and his general intelligence. Correlation yields the statistical measure of the degree of correspon- dence. Definitions of Intelligence.-Intelligence has been de- fined as a combination activity, with reference to more or less independent, heterogeneous impressions and associa- tions (Ebbinghaus) ; as the power of independent and creative elaboration of new products out of the material given by memory and the senses (Mcumann) ; and by others with reference to general capacities and adaptability in adjusting to new situations, meeting new problems, as a common central factor with reference to cortex energy and cerebral plasticity. Baldwin defines it as the ability to think in general terms, by using symbols which abbre- viate and summarize detailed systems of association; as the guide to action in complex situations; hence as "the ability to understand complex situations and how to act suitably in reference to them. ' ' 4 Biologically, intelligence is the peculiar combination of abilities which make the human mind of greater value in gaining control of the environment than the animal mind; or, in Loeb's terms, "the greater capacity of the human brain for association." The general factors of intelligence as summarized by Wood worth include retentiveness, responsiveness to rela- tionships, persistence (among moral and impulsive fac- tors), submissiveness, and curiosity. Ewer suggests an approach to the problem by distin- guishing intelligence as (1) mechanical, shown in connec- tion with skill in the use of tools and machines; (2) social, regulating human relationships in the home, the school, church, political life, and the business world; (3) (esthetic, the construction of objects of the artistic imagination; (4) abstract, devoted to "learning" in books or the scientific study of nature.5 It would then be a question of discov- ering the type of intelligence possessed by a given indi- vidual. This would not be a simple matter under present 4 J. M. Baldwin, Social and Ethical Interpretations, p. 259. 5 Applied Pyschology, p. 93. Mental Tests 289 conditions; for the intelligence tests have not been directly concerned with ability to manage carpenter's tools, or plumber's tools or other concrete things, they do not test the ability to manage people, do not reach high enough to test the ability to solve big problems. Hence the need of supplementary tests, such as the performance tests, al- ready mentioned. Some men whose mental age is below ten, according to the Binet tests, nevertheless have steady jobs, earn good wages; others with a mental age of ten or twelve, who can not master the school work of the upper grades, yet become skilled workmen or even real artists, the mentality required being essentially different from that called for in intellectual work. Managing people requires tact and leadership, mental traits which can not well be tested. A real leader of men is likely to score high in the tests, but one who scores high may have little power of leadership; the difference is partly matter of physique, and temperament, rather than of intelligence, or a matter of understanding people. The tests as thus far devised do not reach up to the great ideas, or make much demand on the superior powers of the great thinker. It is important to distinguish between the general factors of intelligence and special aptitudes for dealing with colors, forms, numbers, weights. Special tests must be given to detect musical ability, for example, although there is no satisfactory list of special aptitudes. Mental Levels.-It should be noted that the intelligence test is not a test of the whole mind, but is used as a con- venient means in the present stage of our knowledge. There are other mental elements or variables which might be tested, but are not readily susceptible to precise tests. The general aim of the test is to determine the mental level on which a person belongs, as nearly as possible. H. H. Goddard, a pioneer in the introduction of the tests, thus states the theory of mental levels: Intelligence is not the sole determiner of human conduct, but psychologists are better equipped to estimate the part which intelligence plays, intelligence being the chief determiner, intelligence as conditioned by a nervous mechanism that is inborn, a 290 Vocational and Industrial Psychology determining intelligence which is of "unalterable grade." 6 Every human being comes into the world with a poten- tiality for mental development which will carry him just so far. Barring those accidents which may stop a person from reaching the development which would be normal to him, nothing can to any great degree affect the mental level to which he will finally attain. We should not, of course, confuse knowledge with intelligence, inborn and acquired. Intelligence is "the potentiality of the ma- chine," while knowledge is "the material upon which it works." Intelligence depends upon the structure of the brain cells which condition mental processes, and upon the functioning of those cells. The level of a person of average intelligence is probably between 13 and 14 years. Validity of the Tests.-Goddard also shows that we tend to confuse mental and physical development. Intelli- gence can be measured apart from both knowledge and physical growth. It is the mental age which is disclosed by the test, as in the case of the mental levels determined in the army tests, uniformly accurate for tens of thousands of men, and in agreement with the experience of the of- ficers with the same men. The tests which apply to special groups would apply to the people as a whole. In a unit to go overseas, 306 men were designated by their commanding officer as unfit for overseas service. These were referred for psychological examination with the result that 90 per cent were found to be mentally 10 years or younger. Goddard holds that with the army experience in general before us it is no longer possible for any one to deny the validity of mental tests, even in group testing. Misfits.-Fortunately the low'est ten per cent of men tested were not sent overseas, obviously a gain in favor of efficiency. Astonishingly low ratings were disclosed, the implication being that an enormous proportion of the human race is of moderate intelligence. The lowest ten per cent being unrecognized unless tested, we often mis- take other qualities for intelligence and place people in positions of responsibility. As a bridge is no stronger 6 Human Efficiency and Levels of Intelligence, 1920. Mental Tests 291 than its weakest part, so society may be no stronger than this ten per cent. Whether or not we have work of D-grade intelligence for the 15,000,000 who may be of that grade in the country as a whole, we can not answer because we have not determined the grade of intelligence required for many occupations. We do not know that all the C-men are doing C-work. There may be enormous loss of effi- ciency. In the grade schools many students are undertak- ing work which is beyond their intelligence. The same is more or less true in high school, in college, even in graduate work, in adult life and in business. "Many a man attempts to be a physician, a lawyer, a clergyman, who has not the requisite intelligence. These professions are strewn with failures, besides having vast numbers of people who are practically nonentities in these professions, because they have not sufficient intelligence to make their mark. ' '7 The same is true in mercantile pur- suits, in public office. Mental Levels and Efficiency.-The level of intelligence determines, for the most part, the extent to which the in- dividual either controls his emotions or fails to control them. Frequently an emotional outbreak is due to an uncongenial environment which a better intelligence would prompt a man to change. Again, the emotional nature has a physical basis capable of being modified, if there is suf- ficient intelligence. A person's efficiency is not then entirely determined by the mental level. A low mental level will exercise little or no control over the emotional life: instincts and emotions which tend to inefficiency will have full force, instead of being modified and controlled. For the mental level shows how much power of control there is over the fundamental instincts and emotions. In this way intelligence is the determiner of efficiency. The subjective quality of individual efficiency depends on the intelligence and the group of qualities which are inde- pendent of but more or less controlled by intelligence. Social Adjustment.-The study of feeble-mindedness, long a field of special research with Goddard, has, he 7 Op. cit., p. 39. 292 Vocational and Industrial Psychology maintains, confirmed the belief that intelligence is a matter of brain cells and neuron patterns. The development of larger association areas of the brain, the functioning of which develops relatively late, implies liability to arrest; and when such arrest has taken place there is no evidence that it ever starts up again. When the mental level of an adult has been ascertained, it is safe to say that this will never be changed. Then again the energy at the disposal of an individual is a physical matter, there is the question of digestion and assimilation, of heart activity and the composition of the blood, to which the man of in- telligence gives due consideration, the unintelligent per- son being wholly ignorant of the problem. The question of social adjustment is one of mental level. The person of little intelligence is capable of only the simplest adjust- ment, hence his efficiency is limited; the ability to meet difficult classes of situations being the test of intelligence. The intelligent have assumed that intelligence is sufficient by itself to inspire confidence. But intelligence can only inspire confidence when appreciated: how can the unin- telligent comprehend intelligence? How can there be such a thing as social equality with such a wide range of mental capacity? Different levels of intelligence have different interests and obviously require different treatment to make them happy. Each mentality requires its own kind of life for its success and happiness. The social efficiency of a group depends on recognition of the mental limits of each one, and of a society so organized that each person has work to do that is within his capacity. An intelligent group must do the organizing and planning for the mass. Our philanthropy should be based on intelligent under- standing of the mental capacity of each individual. It is plain that Goddard's conclusions, if accepted by social reformers, would cut deeply into all schemes implying the assumption that we are equally endowed or at least capable of developing our gifts to the same level, as well as the assumption that the masses should govern. If the intelligence quotient supplies the standard, are there any saving qualifications in favor of "complexes," Mental Tests 293 dissociations, temperament as recently investigated, or any sort of mentality, moral or spiritual power not determined by brain cells? Judging the Tests.-In behalf of behaviorism, Paton maintains that academic psychologists without any accu- rate knowledge of the machinery concerned in the emo- tional adjustments "will attempt to go to surprising lengths in interpreting the data gathered by intelligence tests." In doing this they are apt to assign a value to the conscious processes "out of all proportion to the real part consciousness plays in the role of adjustment." The character of the conscious processes may indeed be noted, "but the relation of these adjustments to those taking place in other levels often does not appear. Nor can it be in- ferred from any of the information available." Paton holds that a flood of valuable information can be obtained by an intelligent, well-trained examiner who is not handi- capped by dependence on some system of tests in judging the manner in which the immediate situation is presented, sized up, reacted to.8 Difficulties.-Other critics have questioned the ability of psychologists to apply their tests so as to determine the intelligence quotient. An individual might well have a fixed degree of intelligence which would be disclosed under favorable conditions, but there might be a "mother com- plex," for example, hampering the expression of it right and left, even in manhood. For other reasons a person might be impeded in self-expression at many vital points. Again, there are those who by temperament fail to do well in any sort of .examination or test. In mathematics they may be slow in computation, in combining factor with factor, in contrast with "ready reckoners" of much less intelligence who easily gain a reputation for quickness. Some people are habitually successful in any undertaking which involves alertness, hence they use whatever ability and knowledge they possess to the full. But while they may graduate with high honors the world may not hear of them again. Meanwhile, there are patient plodders 8 Human Behavior, pp. 374, 392. 294 Vocational and Industrial Psychology who are seldom seen to advantage under artificial condi- tions whose intelligence carries them to the top in the course of time. Again, allowance should be made, so critics have said, for the fact that many of the questions asked by the examiners refer to minor matters in which a person who has plenty of time to run through the papers, read signs, keep up with sport and theatrical news, might be wrell informed in, while people of real intelligence are dcing things worth while. Objections Answered.-In behalf of psychologists who use the tests with real intelligence, Yerkes, who was in charge of the army mental tests during the war, points to certain prevailing misconceptions, for instance, the notion that intelligence increases with schooling.9 This notion is contradicted by research, for the status of intel- ligence improves by elimination of the less capable pupil. " Education, instead of increasing our intellectual capac- ity, merely develops it and facilitates its use." Crime, delinquency, and dependency, as well as educability, have their lessons to teach. In behalf of cheap labor, we have permitted, even encouraged the immigration of the simple- minded, defective, diseased, and criminalistic persons; and so we have lowered the intelligence and efficiency of our country. If by mental tests it is possible to eliminate the lowest ten per cent of the draft, and thereby lessen by one-half the waste and annoyance incident to military offenses, slowness and refractoriness in training, weakness and inefficiency in service; then surely the application of these tests in other fields would show corresponding results. The Question of Values.-Speaking conservatively in answer to the question, "Can the value of a man be ap- praised?" Yerkes holds that it is possible to predict cer- tain of the "values" by measuring bodily and mental traits, while other traits can not be measured at the pres- ent time. "Assuredly we can not today appraise a man accurately." But substantial progress has been made. Theoretically a man is as measurable as a bar of steel 9 The Atlantic Monthly, March, 1923. Mental Tests 295 or a humanly contrived machine. Occupational fitness depends primarily on bodily, intellectual, and tempera- mental traits which can be determined. It would be absurd to measure a man's bodily traits merely, and omit trust- worthy measurements of his will-power, reliability, frank- ness or honesty, patience, persistence, or irascibility, his courage or timidity, his self-dependence, temperamental resourcefulness, his sympathy and self-forgetfulness. In measuring a man's intellectual functions we still fall short of what is required. Knowledge of temperament is in- sufficient without taking into account "certain components of character and personality" which result from the inter- action between elements of the man's makeup and the conditions of life. It is difficult to standardize and gauge honesty, courage, timidity, and similar traits. In the Industries.-When we turn to specialists in the industrial field we find the conviction that the failures of the past were chiefly due to the absence of a scientific method of measuring and adjusting human character. "Only a scientific test can be just, fair, and impersonal," says Simons. The Civil Service examinations are an at- tempt in this direction, comparatively free as they are from prejudice and favoritism; but these are too cumber- some for use in industry, they lack flexibility; there is too much emphasis on memory and literary knowledge, on measuring information instead of intelligence. Simons holds that personnel work is still hampered by the old faculty psychology. The whole method of char- acter analysis is based on it. In the new methods objective tests are substituted, the mind's owner not being an im- partial judge. But this assumption involves the hypothesis on Simons ' part that the mind is " a function of the brain and nervous system," a conclusion which prejudges many matters pertaining to human character. There are great possibilities, however, in the application of mental tests in the industries as they were applied in the army. The idea of balancing the intelligence in units on a scale from A to E is new in industrial management. Simons points out that a carpenter of two years' experi- 296 Vocational and Industrial Psychology ence, earning $30.00 a week before the war, and now found to be of " B-intelligence, " should be rated as a journey- man. The intelligence tests would disclose the class of men who actually welcome monotonous work, a type of mind which, according to Hartness,10 is very prevalent in industry, the mind that ' ' wants nothing but the steady job . . . wants nothing but the one thing to do." The army tests reveal the fact that there is a hierarchy of ability in trades, for example, from those who were trained engineers down to those who had learned no trade. Hence the value of searching for trade tests in three groups, the apprentices, the journeymen, and the experts, men who are really known as belonging to these groups when tried out. What is needed is the standard which will classify men according to their skill. Link finds that subjects are frequently nervous, and therefore their performance in the tests is non-character- istic. In case of doubt the applicant should be given a test to overcome the initial excitement. This test should therefore be easy, interesting; it should engage the atten- tion of the subject as fully as possible, and restore confi- dence. For example, the manual dexterity test given to inspectors is a good one to use. Tests and the Vocations.-In industries where oppor- tunities are offered for choosing and developing a vocation, applicants may be assisted by means of the tests to choose the right occupation. These opportunities are offered from an economical point of view, since it is commercially advantageous to have vocations wisely chosen. The National Association of Corporation Schools is an organ- ization composed of representatives of many large indus- tries, devoted to the development of vocational and edu- cational work in the industries. Terman holds that when thousands of children who have been tested by the Binet scale have been followed out into the industrial world, and their success in various occupa- tions noted, we will know fairly definitely the vocational significance of any degree of mental inferiority or superi- io The Human Factor in Industry. Mental Tests 297 ority. After due research we will be able to determine the minimum intelligence quotient necessary for success in each leading occupation. At present there are un- doubtedly great losses due to the fact that persons of inferior ability are employed to do tasks which they are unable to perform. Psychological investigation has al- ready shown that many of the industrially employed are of subnormal intelligence. Summary.-Mental tests are special in type and value, and should be used and judged with appreciation of what is meant by intelligence with reference to mental levels, as these terms are understood by psychologists like God- dard and Yerkes. Intelligence tests have often been con- fused with information tests, and well-trained men have been misjudged because they failed to answer information questions which any student might answer who follows the popular news and the advertisements of the day. Education has long been confused with information in the same way. Many tests have been devised to meet specific needs and are intelligible in relation to those needs, as in the case of performance tests and Beta tests. These tests have greatly aided in processes of standardization. But it is well recognized by psychologists using the tests that there are other qualities not yet susceptible of quan- titative measurement. A rigid application of the tests at this stage of their development would involve sheer de- terminism, and tend to discourage efforts at self-improve- ment. But the tests are meant to indicate the basis of operations, the mental level, and may if regarded with discrimination forestall many unfortunate classifications and experiments where too much might be demanded of people of inferior intelligence. Meanwhile, the greater the intelligence, the less a man need feel hampered by any judgment passed upon him. If the tests do not measure courage, loyalty, power to command, or the emotional traits which enable a man to push through obstacles and succeed, we may give attention to these in their proper connection. We might gain further light on the validity of the tests by noting the results of their application not only in the 298 Vocational and Industrial Psychology industries but in education and in relation to the study of criminals. REFERENCES Warren, II. C., Elements of Human Psychology, 1922, Chap. XI. Woodworth, R. S., Psychology, 1921, Chap. XII. Goddard, H. H., Human Efficiency and Levels of Intelligence, 1920. Terman, L. M., The Measurement of Intelligence, 1916, Chaps. I-III (graded bibliography; tests in full detail). Whipple, G. M., Manual of Mental and Physical Tests, 1914. Yoakum and Yerkes, Army Mental Tests, 1920 (contains ex- aminer's guide, with all tests, explanations, answers, dia- grams, illustrations, scores). Simons, A. M., Personnel Relations in Industry, 1921, Chap. VI. Link, II. C., Employment Psychology, 1919, Chap. XV. Yerkes, R. M., "Testing the Human Mind," The Atlantic Monthly, March, 1923. CHAPTER XIX MENTAL EFFICIENCY One of the permanent contributions made by scientific management was the time-study technique involved in the effort to develop an accurate schedule for each job, to- gether with the routing of work, the use of standard prac- tice instructions, planning departments, and other elements of the efficiency process. This technique had as objective the economy of materials, money, labor; and motion studies of each operation were essential to it. The time-schedules were applied in all branches of shop-work, later in offices, in type-writing, filing, indexing, bookkeeping, and all operations where economy of motion was an important consideration. Motion study consists in analyzing a job into the operations of which it consists, reducing the elements of it to the smallest number, and organizing these into the most efficient mode of performance. The study discloses the time required to produce the article in ques- tion, to do the job in the most effective way by an efficient worker, and thus set the standard for others to follow by reference to the card. It involves more than mere observa- tion by aid of a stop-watch, since an excellent workman will make more motions than the observer can note in this way. The results noted when combined into a schedule must be tested by experiment to see if the plan fits the performance. The schedule thus acquired can then be applied throughout. The element of fatigue enters into the scheme, and so implies the whole question of the rela- tion between fatigue and effort. The objection to efficiency schedules was on the ground of the workman's unwillingness to surrender the monopoly of his craft knowledge in favor of a written plan, modify- 299 300 Vocational and Industrial Psychology ing operations for the sake of reducing the time, hastening the training required to learn a job, and increasing the profits by making him a kind of instrument. Too much emphasis appears to be put on speeding up. The result might be strenuousness rather than efficiency. In so far as pace-making becomes the standard it tends to antagonize labor, and is a setback to real efficiency. Cooperation between employer and employee in the use of time and motion studies means passing beyond scientific manage- ment as at first developed by giving more consideration to the effect on the worker. The job having been analyzed with reference to the requisite operations, the next question is the pace which the excellent worker can maintain hour by hour, and day after day without undue nervous strain or extra tax on his physical energies. Further, there is the question of the worker's interest in his work, his willingness to adapt himself to a schedule. This is not a mere question of amount of time or quantity of output, to the neglect of quality or craftsmanship. Obviously, different kinds of work have various values. In some it is more a matter of economy of motion than in others. Then too workers differ temperamentally in the use of their energies, nerv- ous and physical. Habit and Efficiency.-Swift defines man's response to situations in the day's work as the measure of the worker's efficiency.1 "When the response results in behavior which satisfies the immediate, pressing demands and, in addi- tion, adapts itself to change, growth, and progress, effi- ciency is perfect." The ability to react effectively to daily problems is gauged by alert, flexible adaptation to changing circumstances in general. Adaptation is the key-note. Man is apt to assume that his superior intellect puts him above this law of behavior. Yet the principle is the same as in the case of the higher animals. Adaptation is relent- lessly exacting. The only method of control is the indirect one of planning the conditions through which other results can be attained, by adaptation to those conditions. The iE. J. Swift, Psychology and the Day's Work, 1918, Chap. I. Mental Efficiency 301 man who would be efficient must strive to regulate ex- ternal conditions well planned with a view to efficiency, then organize his habits so as to attain his objective. Habit to be effective must pass beyond the stage of un- conscious adaptation and enter the stage of thoughtful selection. Habits lacking constructive or productive power should be eliminated. Some habits should be left free while others are controlled. Human failure is largely due to the fact that habits get into us instead of our getting into them. "Habits cease to change and become efficient when no practical motive compels improvement." The justification for habit as an organic fact is in the need for conserving successful reactions. Hence the impor- tance of deciding what acts may be most advantageously intrusted to habit. W. D. Scott puts first emphasis on mental attitudes.2 As human efficiency is a variable which increases and de- creases according to law, increase of work and its results is to be attained by securing the outside stimulus and fostering conscious effort. This is not primarily a ques- tion of muscular energy, or strength of mind and body. It is a question of the manner in which we approach the work. Without injury to health the average man could increase his efficiency 50 per cent. Love of the game is one of the elements in the successful attitude, so is con- centration, relaxation, pleasure, loyalty, imitation, compe- tition. Experience is an asset. Our capital lies in habit formation. Human Efficiency.-Whether we put the emphasis on adaptation through wise selection and organization of habits, or on mental attitudes as the clue, it is plain that human considerations involve standards of quality, while the tendency of the efficiency movement in its beginnings was to reduce everything to quantity, to standards of ex- ternal measurement.3 As soon as we consider the results on the worker, his interests, hopes, ideals, ambitions, we enter the realm of variables where allowance must be made 2 Increasing Human Efficiency in Business, 1911, Chap. I. 3H. W. Dresser, Human Efficiency, 1912, Chap. I. 302 Vocational and Industrial Psychology for mental types, kinds of activity which have value in and for themselves. Success in any undertaking involves the question of the nature, training, wise use, and conserva- tion of a man's energies according to ideals of skill, inner control, intellectual efficiency. Different values are as- signed according to what a man takes to be worth while, and he will select and organize his habits, put forth his energies and work if really interested enough to adopt appropriate and necessary means to his end. Efficiency is a result of the whole mind in productive exercise. Men- tal coordination is more important than concentration upon a given element, such as the mechanism of adjust- ment. It implies both self-knowledge, that is, the part to be played by desire, imagination, intellect, will, habit; and self-control, which is psycho-physical, calls not only for command of bodily and nervous activities through what we call skill, but for composure, poise, balance, wisdom in the use of one's energies so as to avoid the restraints and repressions which psychoanalysis tell us so much about. The Psychology of Work.-A reaction against work has passed over the world without discrimination between (1) adverse conditions of work and industrial systems which exploit labor, and (2) work considered as essential to life, happiness, and freedom. There is no human activity which does not involve work, brain-work being as essential to skillful manual labor as certain bodily conditions are to the kinds of work so readily discounted by partisans of "manual labor" as an economic affair. An adverse atti- tude toward labor of any sort and the conditions under which we work, an emotional or nervous reaction against it, or a struggle involving antagonistic desires will exhaust the energies much more rapidly and completely than the work or activity as such. It is the inner friction, conflict, strenuousness, intensity, or nervous struggle which is our undoing. But granted interest, an affirmative attitude, a man is willing to overcome obstacles and work with little thought of the mere process. The real work in many an undertaking consists in overcoming the inertia, unwilling- ness, or laziness, sometimes the selfishness, which we en- Mental Efficiency 303 counter before we have actually set our organisms in motion. The recent antagonism toward work is in part traceable to a movement to reduce skill to the dead level of the slower workman, the tendency to produce inferior goods, and work as little as possible for as much money as possible during the fewest hours, to the neglect of the impulse to craftsmanship and the love of work which is normally so strong in us all. Effective work implies, (1) an attitude of willingness both to work and to learn, an open-mindedness or responsiveness, or interest, an ideal, the desire to "make good" and get ahead; (2) adaptation to the conditions imposed, accepted or chosen, the methods in vogue; (3) concentration on the work at hand, that it may be well done, with economy of motions, rhythmic rather than spasmodic activities; (4) maintenance of a calm interior, freedom from nervousness and a sense of hurry, self-control, mental coordination; (5) the play of thought, use of the imagination, as time and the work permit, to keep the mind above routine and foster the higher values of life, and reflect upon the conditions within and without which make for improvement.4 Fatigue.-The study of fatigue involves the question of the energies of the whole psycho-physical organism in relation to its environment. Fatigue has been defined as "the sum total of the results of activities which show themselves in a diminished capacity for doing work." It is approached with reference to efficiency from the point of view of wasted motions, effort, and time, unnecessary fatigue being traceable to unnecessary effort, which may in turn be due to some one's ignorance. It is the after- effect of work, the condition of the worker's organism after he has expended energy in doing something, a by- product of activity.5 It is marked by decrease in power to work, in pleasure, in enjoyment after the hours of work. A little fatigue is easily overcome by proper rest. Twice the amount requires more than twice the time. Four times the amount calls for more than twice as much rest. 4 Dresser, op. cit., p. 183. 5 F. B. and Lillian M. Gilbreth, Fatigue Study, 1916. 304 Vocational and Industrial Psychology Physiologically speaking, fatigue is described as the failure of the organs of the body to perform their proper functions because of physical and chemical changes which have taken place within the organism. This failure is said to be due to the accumulation of poisonous waste which prevents the production of sufficient energy to keep up the normal productive activity. Its signs are apparent to all after a while, in the case of some temperaments more rapidly than in others, but the condition sets in before the worker is aware of weariness or pain; and keen obser- vation would show a difference in the work or product, the less accurate motions, the change from order to dis- order, the decrease of output. The diminution of output, or its decrease in quality, is the objective sign. The sub- jective signs include an increased effort required to con- centrate, maintain the pace, with a sense of heaviness, loss of resistance, lack of interest. The object of fatigue study is to determine accurately what fatigue results from doing various types of work, to eliminate all unnecessary fatigue, reduce the necessary fatigue to the minimum, provide all possible means for overcoming fatigue, and put the results of the study in available form. Increasing interest has been put upon fatigue since the introduction of time-schedules by Taylor, with emphasis put on motion studies, the effect of light- ing, heating, cooling, ventilating, the introduction of safety appliances, and the new interest in welfare work under personnel administration. Watkins, commenting on the causes of fatigue, says that although conditions are common the causes are frequently unrecognized. For instance, industrial fatigue may result from: "concentration of intelligence, observation, and at- tention upon some particular task; varied distribution of attention and wide responsibility necessitated by attend- ance on several machines; sustained use of special senses and sense-organs in high discrimination, especially in oc- cupations requiring a high degree of skill and accuracy; continuous employment at some task which, though it may be performed automatically, results in excessive monotony; Mental Efficiency 305 prolonged standing and the lifting of heavy weights, especially in the case of women; excessive hours of labor; undesirable and unsanitary working conditions; the tend- ency to speed up workers beyond normal capacity; under- nutrition and malnutrition, caused either by insufficient wages or by ignorance of proper dietary requirements; bad housing conditions . . . "6 Summarizing the laws of fatigue as stated by the French scientist, Jules Amar, for example, that the expenditure of energy is in proportion to muscular effort of contrac- tion, its duration, and the degree of contraction, Simons points out that "every form of work for the welfare of labor should be guided by these laws of fatigue and re- covery." The expenditure of energy required to perform a given amount of work diminishes, according to Amar, with increase in rapidity of muscular contraction. "But this is true only within certain limits of speed, beyond which nervous exhaustion will ensue, together with pro- found physiological disturbances." Hence a rapid rate of work is permissible "only when it does not overload the organs of circulation and respiration." Amar holds that the whole science of human labor is implied in the laws of fatigue. Hence the whole art of working resides in their application, namely, in duly proportioning effort and pace, enforcing intervals of repose. Plainly, much industrial fatigue is unnecessary.7 Watson summarizes psychological experiments which show that: " (1) if a sufficient rest period is allowed after each contraction, no fatigue occurs; (2) after complete fatigue with a given load, a rest of two hours is required for the muscle's complete recovery; (3) if after complete fatigue abortive contractions are continued for sometime, the period of rest must be much longer than two hours. This shows the deleterious effect of attempting to continue much muscular activity in a fatigued condition; (4) loss of sleep, hunger, and anaemia of the muscles lower the amount of work which can be done; (5) improved circu- 6 Introd, to the Study of Labor Problems, p. 203. 7 Personnel Relations in Industry, p. 177. 306 Vocational and Industrial Psychology lation produced by massage, better foods and sugar solu- tions increase the muscular work; (6) the total amount of work done is greater with small loads than with large." Toxic products are thrown off by the exhausted muscle and carried by the blood throughout the body. Extracts made from the muscles of a fatigued animal and admin- istered to a rested animal produce signs of fatigue.8 Fatigue is 1 'the influence of continuous exercise of groups of functions upon some other function," and the wear and tear on the human organism is undoubtedly posi- tive. Watson holds that it would be better to drop the term "fatigue" altogether, name the function in question, and specify the conditions under which the given act is taking place. "When we have described the function being investigated, the conditions surrounding the worker and the method of measuring the function, we would then describe what the standard of efficiency is and how it was obtained, and then state the effect the various control factors had upon the quantity and quality of the out- put. . . . "There is a growing tendency to allow a short period of rest after definite intervals of work. The whole ques- tion of decrease in the quantity and quality of output is bound up in daily life with a great many emotional factors, such as whether the man's pay is sufficient to afford him an outlet for play, marriage and the like; one's personal and family adjustment; political convic- tions ; the sociological theories the worker may have; open- and closed-shop policies; and most probably, the rate at which the individual works. ..." 9 It is agreed that as fatigue has been found to be a poi- sonous toxin which must be eliminated by proper periods of rest and recreation, and as fatigue is "a deadly disease when pushed to extremes," the need for alternate work and recreation is the scientific foundation for all general welfare work. The researches of Josephine Goldmark are usually quoted in this connection, to show the relation of rhythm to life and labor. Short-hour days, with periods 8 Op. cit., pp. 167, 168. a Op. cit., pp. 351, 358, 377, 380. Mental Efficiency 307 of rest from five to ten minutes, are advocated. But there is a tendency to neglect the more distinctively mental factors underlying behavior in the case of fatigue and rest. Whatever the external causes or conditions of fa- tigue, something always depends on the mode of using the nervous energies. Even if all the factors in relation to life in general referred to by Watson are favorable, there is still opportunity for fostering better habits of work in terms of inner balance and control. The individual with superior intelligence gives more attention to acquir- ing the art of doing his particular work as well as it can be done than to the avoidance of fatigue. That is to say, dropping the term fatigue, as Watson suggests, he en- deavors to adapt function to function to obtain the best results. The brain is his instrument for carrying out his plan of mental efficiency. States of control are needed in workers of all types to offset disturbing emotions. Mind and brain should be coordinated through a more intimate connection between the intellectual life and ex- ternal behavior. We say uncritically that we break down from overwork, neglecting the fact that it is more likely to be our way of working and living that is the primary consideration. The loss of energy through inner conflict is oftentimes considerable. Emotional excess is with some the crucial fact. The man of superior intelligence in- creases both his hours of work and his output through interest in some great undertaking in which he finds ade- quate expression for his powers, some work of inventive genius, a great purpose. The more satisfying the purpose the more it tends to call all coordinating activities into exercise. We learn then to distinguish between real and false fatigue; the former being a natural accompaniment of work, in moderate degrees desirable, since it leads to rest and renewed growth; while the latter is an abnormal exaggeration of the feeling of weariness, a mere "fatigue memory " or " mental reverberation of past experience. ' '10 We note also that "the great inhibitor of fatigue, both io See Ewer, Applied Psychology, 1923, p. 412. 308 Vocational and Industrial Psychology genuine and spurious, is interest. One who enjoys his work or sees that it leads to the fulfillment of his desires is enabled to stick to it continuously with comparatively little weariness. Powerful motives of affection, ambition, and loyalty operate in the same way. One labors tirelessly for those whom he loves, or for the attainment of a su- premely important goal. . . . An uninteresting task is likely to be very fatiguing, unless it is highly mechanized or relieved by frequent intermission and rest. The effort of attention in conflict with inner impulses and outer dis- tractions rapidly exhausts one's reservoir of nervous en- ergy. . . . One of the principal effects of fatigue is unsteadi- ness of attention, which makes it an exceedingly dangerous condition in relation to highly speeded and powerful machinery. ' ' Other Aspects of Fatigue.-The theory of fatigue which explains it in terms of poisons would imply the conclusion that sleep is for the sake of overcoming fatigue and throw- ing off the accumulated toxic substances which gathered in the system during the day. But we have noted in an another chapter that this is only one theory advanced in explanation of sleep, and not the most conclusive one. It is plain that we should not limit our view of fatigue to its toxic effects. The effects upon disposition, emotion, mood, thought, are to be described by themselves. Mind and Work.-There is a general tendency to neg lect the mental states accompanying work. If a man wor- ries about his work, during the hours of labor and after- wards, this worry-activity is in itself "work," exhausts the energies and affects the mind; it is psycho-physical, and should always be regarded in the light of its effect on both mind and body, because neither the mental state nor the bodily condition can be understood by itself. A man is more fatigued after work if he worries on account of the inner friction and the effort put forth in keeping on with his work while out of sorts. Again, if out of accord with the sort of work he is doing, the conditions under which work is done in his shop, office, or branch of industry, and the economic system which imposes con- Mental Efficiency 309 ditions which he believes to be wrong, this antagonistic attitude involves psycho-physical work which is cumulative in proportion as his antagonism increases. If out of accord with his co-laborers and his foreman, a man will feel the effects of this opposition, or what he takes to be the oppo- sition of others toward himself. Fear, as an exciting emotion, is work. So too is anger, hatred, bitterness, jealousy. Work is required to take a stand against people and things. It is the worry which "gets into a man" which does mischief. But there are mental states, such as hope, contentment, quiet reflection, happiness, which not only do not involve work (in the fatiguing sense) but which are highly favor- able to efficient work. The worker who has been per- suaded or compelled by his union to slacken his pace, hence to be less skillful and efficient than he would natur- ally be, who is constantly stirred to antagonism by labor- ites, is thereby put into an antagonistic attitude which makes all work more arduous, and conditions are com- plained of which would not ordinarily excite attention. The tendency toward craftsmanship, interest in work as an end worth while in itself, and the desire to rise by virtue of excellence in one's work are inhibited, repressed; conflicts result, as we have before noted, and these con- flicts interfere with efficiency. Antagonism to work be- comes fatiguing because it puts emphasis on the wrong points, contrary to the promptings of human nature. Ef- ficiency in work in the productively satisfying sense in- volves an affirmative attitude towards it, the doing of work in a spirit of intelligent adaptation. Facts from another sphere of activity are significant in this connection. Public speakers of emotional and sensi- tive types tell about the fatigue resulting from efforts to teach, preach, stir and "carry" audiences that are "heavy," conservative, unresponsive. A speaker may feel more weary after addressing such an audience for an hour than after doing a day's ordinary work. But a responsive audience may so move with a speaker that fa- tigue, if it exist at all, is minimized. Indeed, a speaker 310 Vocational and Industrial Psychology may feel in better psycho-physical condition than before he began to speak, actually refreshed by the experience. The speaker learns in time to adapt himself to varying conditions and audiences, that he may preserve his ef- ficiency. If he works with enthusiasm he is little likely to be aware of fatigue. It can not be too strongly pointed out that mental efficiency, with the accompanying fatigue, is psycho-physical, is partly a matter of attitudes, emo- tions, beliefs. The wise man learns to adapt his energies to the conditions of work as he finds them, according to his temperament, his occupation, his view of life. Adverse Conditions.-It is difficult to put these consid- erations before the manual worker, because a study of work regarded in its psycho-physical light will appear to be a thinly disguised defense of the prevailing economic system. The laborite is not interested in the efficiency of the individual as such. He scouts the idea of the joy of work. That notion belonged with the old order. Dis- content goes with reaction against it. The laborer who is ordered to regulate his output according to the produc- tivity of the slowest or poorest worker can not at the same time be striving for the greatest psycho-physical efficiency. If envy of the rich is the motive underlying discontent, there will be no interest in adaptation to present condi- tions with a view to advancing by means of them to greater efficiency. Yet employment management, as pur- sued according to the standards of personnel administra- tion, calls for recognition of the conditions which favor efficiency in the individual. Hence the study of mental efficiency will occupy a more important place as soon as the ideal of such administration finds increasing favor. The problem will be to convey the essential facts concern- ing fatigue, efficiency, mental attitude, adaptation to con- ditions, and the value of ideals in such a way as to win favorable recognition, entirely apart from any opinions concerning the existing economic order. Personal Efficiency.-Efficiency with regard to the whole individual has been defined as wiser use of one's energies combined with increased productiveness, more in- Mental Efficiency 311 telligent cooperation between workers and employers; with a surer basis of livelihood, happiness, and health. This implies in brief "effective power for work and service during a healthy and active life." Its basis is not only mental efficiency (self-knowledge, knowledge of personal forces and how to use them), and vocational fitness (co- ordination of activities, control, self-direction in a given type of work for which one has aptitude or in which one has acquired skill) ; but method, system, good habits, adaptation of means to ends; varied exercise and develop- ment; sufficient rest, sleep, recreation. Ideally speaking, there should also be an avocation, a life-purpose, a scale of values making for self-realization. The highly efficient man meets life reflectively as of value in itself, is alert, keen, has a philosophy of life, a way of "making good" even under unfavorable circumstances. Personal efficiency varies with the individual, the vocation, the environment, for example, in the case of the base-ball pitcher, who must preserve his arm; the opera singer whose life in all re- spects must center about the best conditions for maintain- ing a voice, the locomotive engineer of the fast express who alternates a day of rest with a day in his cab, the soldier, the traveling salesman, the stoker. But only the few can command all the conditions. Many jobs entail almost endless routine, or a kind of automatism of one set of muscles, adaptation to conditions where nothing is to one's liking. Monotony is not readily offset by intel- lectual activity of any sort. The weariness of the worker amid such conditions is often such that if. any changes are made at all these must be made in the environment by those who develop conditions of welfare as a part of per- sonnel administration. Welfare Work.-The question of welfare falls to a large extent outside of psychology. But as the individual is psycho-physical there is always a mental aspect to' the reactions of environment upon the whole man. If it be accepted as a rule that "all working energy should be devoted to production," there is the problem of aiding the worker to make this contribution of his forces so that 312 Vocational and Industrial Psychology his health will be continuously maintained through good employment practice as a whole. The higher the degree of expertness demanded, as in the case of the engineer of the limited, the more willing the employer will be to plan conditions most favorable to personal efficiency. But if monotony is the rule, automatic response to a pattern, the assumption is apt to be that little consideration is required. It is recognized that the worker should not be required to struggle against his environment, losing the energy in friction which might be conserved for his job, his health and happiness. Some workers prefer a job which requires neither concentration nor thought. But many jobs tend in themselves to arouse undue fatigue through lack of adjustment between worker and conditions. The welfare worker must discover the wasteful, harmful, disagreeable, and other adverse factors of the problem, putting himself in the worker's place to note the probable effect of this or that condition. What favors the personal efficiency of the worker under bettered conditions is likely to favor in- creased production, or at least continued production with- out labor difficulties. The rest-room, the bowling alley, the gymnasium, and the encouragement given to enter- tainments, sports, and the like, are not of course bestowed merely to make workers contented but to provide condi- tions of mutual benefit. The fair-minded employer will be willing to admit the existence of bad conditions, and the thoughtful employee can be encouraged to see the pur- pose of welfare conditions. Physical Conditions.-First emphasis is put upon most favorable conditions for work in a clean, uncluttered place, with materials conveniently arranged or classified so that no time shall be lost in handling things over to find the right article or in going round-about ways in search of tools and other essentials. Material is stored and delivered so that it can be used to greatest advantage as needed. Chairs, stools, benches must be of the right height to fit the appropriate posture, which in its turn has been care- fully studied. Everything must be considered with ref- Mental Efficiency 313 erence both to skill in operation and the least degree of fatigue. Clothing is an important consideration, as well as conditions at once obvious from a welfare point of view: light, heat, ventilation, fire protection, under favorable conditions as now found in factories where the outer walls are nearly all glass, and where up-to-date equipment is arranged intelligently. Environment as a Factor.-Noise, once deemed negli- gible, is now regarded with respect to fatigue. Frequency of accidents is partly traceable to conditions of greatest fatigue, partly to poor light, and to conditions making for personal efficiency at various ages. A well constructed factory or office building, with due consideration to beauty within and without, favors the mental conditions of wel- fare. An old, disordered building is a condition to be worked against in any sort of occupation, while a building specially designed to meet all conditions of welfare fosters good work. The best results can only be secured through cooperation on the part of those who understand the psychological conditions with those who know the demands of the industry, with architects, with personnel workers who are able to adopt the human point of view in contrast with a merely laborite or capitalistic viewpoint. No one specialist is likely to discover all essential conditions. It is no longer permissible for a specialist to dictate terms. This was once allowed in the home, for example, where an architect could design a kitchen as he saw fit, with little regard for personal efficiency and convenience. Investiga- tion has proved that even when there is defective indus- trial organization, as in France, there are superior working conditions where beauty as well as convenience is consid- ered in design. The gratification of the instinct of crafts- manship is an element. The atmosphere of factory or office depends on the building as surely as upon those who help to create it by a spirit of good-will. Concern for conditions which foster personal welfare have not yet kept pace with changes in industrial conditions tending to increase nervous strain, weariness, and to bring about an early death. The death-rate will continue to be highest 314 Vocational and Industrial Psychology among manual workers until very much more heed is given to psychological conditions of welfare. The worker who inwardly rebels at the conditions under which he must work loses energy through a sense of injustice, through constant rebellion against the whole scheme of things. Need for Cooperation.-Simons observes that in the organization of amusements through social centers, the public schools, parks, and similar institutions, will bring little joy or response if the organization is paternalistic, interfering, and autocratic. "No one likes to have things done for him, no matter how much he may need them. This is especially true of intimate personal things like the organization of play, the care of health. . . . The instincts of independence and self-assertion are more powerful than are those of submission and loyalty. . . . Any sort of intimate welfare work, dealing with amusement, health care, accident prevention, or other personal affairs, must be under joint management, or entire labor management, if it is to form a permanent foundation for industrial good-will." 11 The industrial physician, for example, must have had a much wider training than that required for ordinary practice, through the contributions of those familiar with employment conditions and psychology. The psychiatrist has his contribution to make to the study of industry in the light of its effect on the individual. During the war many of the adverse personal conditions on the part of men drafted into service were traceable to adverse condi- tions in the industries. To remedy these conditions there must be closer cooperation between those who understand vocational requirements and those who have to do with the maintenance of health among workers, medical and sur- gical practices in industry, morbidity statistics, and all conditions of sanitation. The operation of restaurants in which the right sort of food is provided, the fostering of education, the housing problem, cooperative buying, wel- fare work in connection with organizations outside the industries, and other considerations enter in one after an- ii Personnel Relations in Industry, p. 182. Mental Efficiency 315 other when there is intelligent effort to substitute cooper- ation all along the line for paternalism in all its forms. Summary.-The consideration given to mental efficiency will depend to a large extent upon the point of view with which it is approached. The study of behavior brings im- portant facts regarding work and fatigue into view. Yet something depends on the previous study of sleep, on knowledge of emotional effects, the influence of mental attitudes, the secondary mental states accompanying work and influencing fatigue. Mental efficiency should be studied by itself, with reference to the welfare of all workers in all occupations, whatever views may prevail concerning economic conditions. Yet the situation is inevi- tably complicated under present conditions, with the pre- vailing attitude against work, and against any plan for efficiency which seems to favor the existing economic sys- tem. There are many mental states which favor efficiency for which it is now difficult to gain recognition. The tendency is to judge by quantitative and external stand- ards, to the exclusion of quality and the inner life. But the question of mental efficiency is inseparable from the favoring mental states which go with productive work as a source of satisfaction, which imply the constructive in- stinct, and the desire of the individual to attain full self- realization. Human efficiency should be regarded from various points of view, so that recognition may be given to all psycho-physical factors. The individual should be encouraged to make a study of his own efficiency. REFERENCES Swift, E. J., Psychology and the Day's Work, 1918, Chap. I. Scott, W. D., Increasing Human Efficiency in Business, 1911. Dresser, H. W., Human Efficiency, 1912, Chaps. I-VI. Gilbreth, F. B., and Lillian M., Fatigue Study, 1916. Watkins, G. S., An Introduction to the Study of Labor Prob- lems, 1922, p. 203. Simons, A. M., Personnel Relations in Industry, 1921, Chap. XI. Brisco, N. A., Economics of Efficiency, 1914. Ewer, B. C., Applied Psychology, 1923, Chaps. XVIII, XIX. Hollingworth, H. L., and Poffenberger, A. T., Applied Psychology, new ed., 1923, Chaps. VII, XL CHAPTER XX VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE Naturally, vocational guidance has found an important field of work in connection with the schools, both those specially preparing boys for the industries and those in which certain courses are offered in partial preparation. By employing the same methods of testing abilities as those used in the employment end of personnel work, it has brought the schools and the industries closer together, and prepared the way for greater cooperation. "The work is reacting on the schools and transforming them. Just as in industry, it is becoming evident that the only driving force that can be depended upon through a long period of time is the instinct of workmanship and its power to gratify the instincts, so the schools are learning that only when they hitch education to industry and arouse the life-career motive, can the best educational work be done."1 The main object in view is the gratification of intelligently trained desire and the utilizing of suit- able ability. Counseling.-Counseling as defined by Brewer in- volves (1) giving information about commerce and in- dustry, with one's vocation as the central interest; (2) the bearing of vocation on life; moral guidance as essen- tial to true success; ideals of citizenship; the economic value of guidance to commerce; the setting free of other life interests. Placement alone is not adequate. Guidance is not a temporary act, is not merely ' ' practical ' ' or ideal- istic; does not restrict opportunity, or mean classifying children and prescribing occupations: it includes educa- tional guidance-vocational education has provided for 1A. M. Simons, op. cit., p. 57. 316 Vocational Guidance 317 experimentation and actual preparation. Vocational coun- seling makes use of both analyses of personal qualities by the adviser and self-analysis on the part of the appli- cant. The immediate objective is placement through guidance, then employment supervision, and follow-up work.2 The qualifications for counseling have been said to be: interest in this special form of service; sympathy, a human attitude, regard for individuality; knowledge of psy- chology and of human nature; intuition or insight; and a method of procedure involving the interview, the use of intelligence tests, inferences based on answers to ques- tions, observations, and coordination of results. One of the recognized ratings for occupational fitness empha- sizes: personality, industry, judgment and common sense, reliability, initiative, cooperation, and native ability. Naturally the counselor will endeavor to determine a person's endowment, for example, an ear for music, an eye for form, a retentive memory, a "turn for mathe- matics," a tendency to "tinker" growing into interest in machinery, executive ability. As naturally, one will distinguish between endowment and training. It has been said that a poet is "born, not made." A leading psy- chologist, commenting on this notion says, "no one is born a poet, though not everybody can become one" (Ward). In a sense every teacher of real power is a counselor. Knowledge of individual differences prepares the way, for instance, ability to form particular habits easily; marked facility in forming habits in music or languages. Vocational Efficiency.-J. Adams Puffer, formerly prin- cipal of an industrial school for boys and later director of the Beacon Vocational Bureau, Boston, found in the first six months of experience as a principal that the easiest and best way to discipline a boy was to get him in the work he liked. He therefore made a careful study of the family history, the talents, experience, and ambi- tion of the boy, with the idea of guidance.3 From 2 J. M. Brewer, The Vocational Guidance Movement, 1918. 3 Vocational Guidance, 1913, p. 7. 318 Vocational and Industrial Psychology Puffer's point of view vocational efficiency is the basis of all education, all training is in fact vocational. What we need in the school is more of the ancient driving force, an earlier realization that the motive of the life-career must be the determining one. Yet vocational education is not enough. Youth must not only be trained for its life work but must be guided in its choice. Modern in- dustry, reaching over into the schools, makes clear the need for wise selection. The need has increased with the complexity of the industries. Even in the grade schools the preparation can begin. "The grade teacher must her- self be taught to detect the signs of budding talent, to awaken the child to self-knowledge concerning his own special powers, and to point the way toward the exercise of those powers for his future livelihood." "As industry has become more complex and more spe- cialized, intelligent guidance through its mazes has by no means kept pace. As a result, we find in country alms- house and in city park and lodging house a veritable army of 'worn-outs' and 'misfits,' while even in store and shop, among people actually employed, the perfect adjustment of worker and work tends to become increasingly difficult. We take up the task which offers itself, though we may have been trained for something quite different or, more commonly, trained for nothing in particular. ' ' 4 As the apprentice system is virtually dead, it is necessary to find its equivalent. To the objection that children in the elementary schools are much too young to be choos- ing a life work, the reply is that the choice is tentative, and that "good mental and manual training under the inspiration of a life-career motive directed toward almost any trade, is better preparation for any other than is an aimless and uninterested dabbling in a general course that points nowhere. The bread-and-butter motive is almost the strongest force, despite the fact that men on occasion act on the impulse of ideals; and it is this will to earn an honest living, to secure comfort and well-being for 4 Op. cit, p. 27. Vocational Guidance 319 our families, instead of depending on others, which should be recognized as the force which pushes us on. The Methods of a Counselor.-Some experts in voca- tional guidance impress us as better informed in regard to the industries than in psychology, in knowledge of hu- man nature. Such counselors are usually materialists in type. But sympathy and ability to call a person into self-knowledge and self-expression is far more important in the beginning than mere knowledge of the several vocations. Parsons emphasized three considerations as the founda- tion: (1) a dear understanding of one's self, one's apti- tudes, abilities, interests, ambitions, resources; (2) a knowledge of the requirements and conditions of success, the advantages and disadvantages, compensation, oppor- tunities in different lines of work; and then (3) true rea- soning on the relations of these two groups.5 Various Factors.-Hollingworth emphasizes knowledge of the original nature of man as the first consideration, then changes wrought in that nature through the experi- ence of school life and other forms of the educational process. Hence the counselor should be able to determine what environment the powers of an individual are best adapted to, what the individual native aptitudes are fitted for. The three leading problems are these: How may the individual achieve the most adequate knowledge of his own peculiar mental and instinctive constitution, his equip- ment of capacities, tendencies, interests, and aptitudes, and the ways in which be compares in these respects with his fellows? How may the individual acquire information concerning the general or special traits required for suc- cessful participation in the various vocations, in order to select a line of activity for which he is constitutionally adopted? How may the employer determine the relative desirability, fitness and promise of those who offer them- selves as his associates and assistants, or for minor posi- tions in his employ?6 Hollingworth believes that mental 5 F. Parsons, Choosing a Vocation, 1909. « Vocational Psychology, 1916. 320 Vocational and Industrial Psyetiology tests are chiefly to be depended on, in the endeavor w de- termine the degrees of sensitivity, dexterity, accuracy, speed, comprehension, docility, discrimination, ingenuity, information, and observation. Self-knowledge as a Factor.-Puffer holds that the two main problems are, to give the youth or obtain for him sound advice concerning the great decision which he is about to make, and to lead him to such self-discovery as shall make his own judgment of value. The life of each of us is his own, hence primary emphasis belongs on indi- vidual responsibility; hence the need of knowing one's own aptitudes, abilities, interests, ambitions, and resources, as well as limitations. Self-knowledge comes* more easily to the young than we think, for a child is more frank than an adult, and often more honest with himself. At a cer- tain period, the mind normally turns with a peculiar and instinctive interest to an examination of itself. "The childish unconsciousness departs, and the youth becomes keenly interested in his relations to the world. Here, then, is the natural time for self-analysis, for the discovery of talents, for the correction of faults that will interfere with new-born ambitions, for the planning of a career, and for the development of character." This is also the time to take young people on visits to the industries, to interest them in the biographies of successful men, to give them opportunities to try themselves out during vacations or at other periods. Then may follow accurate studies on the part of the vocational adviser. The extent to which the methods advocated by Puffer7 would be followed to- day will depend on one's ability to use intelligence tests as more direct and scientific, though not wholly taking the place of older methods. Aptitudes.-The elements of success in any vocation, according to Merton, are the special mental equipment re- quired for the occupation, and the selection of the indi- vidual who is better adapted to carry on that work than any other. Native capacity trained into skillfulness, coupled with right choice of vocation are, therefore, the t Op. cit, Chap. V. Vocational Guidance 321 natural bases of efficiency. Hence the importance of right choice so that there shall be more than efficiency, more than financial success, namely, happiness, the highest self- expression found in work enlisting the best abilities and native gifts. Hence the need of knowledge of one's self, developed or latent; and knowledge of the particular mental requirements of different vocations. There appears to be no satisfactory self-applicable method of determining what work in life one is mentally best fitted to do. The inquiry or personal history method of sizing up a man is unsatisfactory, for the attitude of a person under inspection is not free and natural. Lab- oratory experiments are emergency tests and of little value in the long run. The maximum temporary accomplish- ment of different individuals varies greatly from the average possible constant accomplishment. There are periods of retarded aptitudes in individuals. The claim that the reactions of the nervous system to outward stimuli have constant ratios to mental ability or to mental reac- tions and primary alertness, is open to question. Some people of great intellectual ability are constitutionally slow or even stolid in their physical reactions. Dominant Abilities.-Merton approaches the quest for the appropriate mental equipment or vocational aptitude from the point of view of a classification of abilities as dominant, essential, and supporting.3 The first is the one on which a vocation depends, for instance, engraving, that is, sense of Form. The second involves abilities needed in connection with the main characteristic, for example, a painter must draw as well as paint, he requires both Form and Color. The supporting ability may be, for instance, Imagination, required by the painter, the writer of fiction, also Memory, Attention. The possession in marked degree of the abilities required for a vocation constitute the positive or affirmative side of a man's fitness. There may also be negating traits or deterrent physical peculiarities. Merton develops a scheme for de- 8 H. W. Merton, How to Choose the Right Vocation, 1917, Chap. III. 322 Vocational and Industrial Psychology termining the dominant mental abilities and eharacteristics called for by each of the vocations. He places special emphasis on imagination, so long stigmatized as anti-prac- tical, and on intuition, which he regards as a dominant ability, and defines as "a certain spontaneous mental receptivity which is dependent upon exceptional sensitive- ness to impressions received from material conditions and environments, from the vital qualities of persons and from their thoughts or unexpressed intentions. ' ' 9 Merton admits that intuition is seldom definite or spe- cific in regard to quantities or results, but is more trust- worthy in its discernment of the qualities and character- istics of persons and things. Without conscious reasoning, it yields a spontaneous perception of truth in its general forms; often predicates inventions and discoveries, senses approaching changes in public opinion, foresees the pos- sibilities of untried enterprises, hence is frequently the forerunner of the definite measurements of science and of the development of the arts. A person having large in- tuition does not "jump at conclusions." It is the indi- vidual with poor judgment and an impatient disposition, who lacks sufficient data, who does that. The intuitive person is impressed with a conviction arising from some subtle cause not yet defined, he has prophetic ability con- cerning the natural energies manifested in the field in which he is especially sensitive. Merton gives questions for determining one's intuitive ability.10 Intuition.-Inasmuch as intuition has been relied on by both men and women in judging character, selecting em- ployees, advancing workers to other positions, and decid- ing important matters, it is necessary to consider in what sense the term is still admissible, despite the objections of partisans of behaviorism and mental tests who sweep the whole subject aside. If the giver of intelligence tests is lacking in the sympathies and insights which enable an employment manager to fulfill his many functions, we have merely added one more specialist to the long list, we have a method of judging character, not the method called 9 Ibid., p. 53. i« Op. cit, p. 56. V ocational Guidance 323 for in personnel administration. Psychologists ordinarily fail to mention the subject of intuition. Yet we find well informed men still reserving a place for it, notably in the case of Link, who approaches the question of employment psychology in the light of practical experience, as well as through interest in mental tests, and who holds that some men have "an almost uncanny ability to select the right applicant for the right place. ' '11 The popular assumption is that there is a distinctive faculty, sense, or power of intuition. A well-known type of moral philosophy is founded on this presupposition. In religion intuition has been believed in as disclosing a higher type of knowledge by more direct means. The real point at issue turns on the possibility that intuitive knowledge is of another stamp. Bergson advanced the view that intuition, allied with instinct, has developed in a direction different from that of intellect.12 When we use intellect we stand apart, judge by objective consider- ations, in terms of spatial concepts, incapable of thinking life as it really is. By intuition we put ourselves within a thing in a sympathetic attitude, so that we seem to be one with it. Intuition leads us to the inwardness of life in a disinterested way, enlarging the horizon and en- abling us to grasp what intellect fails to disclose. In the great artists it is what we call genius, inspiration, the power which the great man has of entering into a thing and living its life appreciatively, creatively. Bergson's view has had wide vogue among anti-intellectualists. Instinct and Intuition.-In connection with a searching analysis of instinct, Drever examines this view that there is opposition between instinct and intelligence; hence that there are two widely different developments of conscious life, with two different kinds of knowledge resulting there- from, intuitive and conceptual.13 This separation would mean that "intuitive knowledge" is not supposed to be based on experience, though it is said to determine experi- 11 Employment Psychology, p. 13. 12 Creative Evolution, trans., 1911, p. 176. is J. Drever, Instinct in Man, 1917, Chap. IV. 324 Vocational and Industrial Psychology ence. Intuition may then be defined as direct apprehension of some reality, some real situation. But when we try to put intuition over against perception we find that perception is also direct apprehension of a real object or situation. Is there any actual difference? Partisans of intuition hold that it has the character of " satisf yingness, " as in the case of a clue flashing upon us in regard to a remembered past event, the key relation of some perceptual law apprehended in a moment. The same element is al- ways involved: an object, situation, or relation is appre- hended or perceived, and apprehended as the very object, situation, or relation we require at the particular moment. The intuitive element is the "something more" or pro- nounced feeling element determined by the impulse of the moment merging in its required object, the "glow of worth- whileness." But Drever's analysis shows that intuitive knowledge does not yield a new and unique element or kind of cognition, it is perceptual knowledge qualified by the feeling of value and significance. Intuition may appear at all levels, the perceptual level, the level of ideal represen- tation, the level of conceptual thought. Acuter study of instinct fails to confirm the notion that it is exact and unerring, as we have uncritically assumed. All alleged intuitive knowledge involving instinct is built up on per- ceptual knowledge acquired by experience, with sparks or flashes of perceptual knowledge as its beginnings. These sparks or flashes relate particular impulse and particular situation, perceptual experience with conceptual knowl- edge. Drever makes good his analysis by an acute study of special claims in behalf of instinct. If all knowledge is in reality perceptual and conceptual, there is no ground for claiming that intuition is anything more than a typical instance of perception coupled with the special values as- signed to it, substantiated by the personality of the one who finds particular satisfaction in it. Insight.-In relation to judgments of character, there- fore, we note that intuition as a particular instance of per- ception implies the past experience and knowledge of the one who possesses it. Some people are so constituted that Vocational Guidance 325 they readily see the gist of a thing, discern the real motive or state of affairs with a person. Others are almost wholly dependent on slow accumulation of data, drawing infer- ences, making inductions. Some are sympathetic; others distant, cold, "impersonal." An employment manager without what we call "discernment" would be entirely dependent on mental tests, which would probably be used almost mechanically. But one with wide contacts, tempera- mentally speaking, an acute observer, would supplement his data by flashes of discernment and ready sympathy. Granted a man well acquainted with human nature, keen, observant, direct, you will find his experience with men combining with his knowledge of life to produce what we call "insight." Moreover, his mentality at large will ad- vance to positions which his understanding is not yet able fully to attain. Hence the advice given by the judge (quoted by William James) to the young lawyer, who was told that his decisions would probably be right but his "reasons" wrong. Insight rather than "intuition" is the great "gift" to be desired.14 This will be found in asso- ciation with knowledge of temperaments and types of character, the method varying with the vocational guide or employment manager. The one who already has a workable degree of psychological knowledge will welcome a new classification of mental types, such as introversion and extroversion. He will not hesitate to learn from psy- choanalysts, even though making every possible use of intelligence tests. For he will be interested in the whole individual, the real man. There are always certain empir- ical signs by which we know a real man when we see him. There is no reason to discount insight, because it varies with the few who are fortunate enough to possess it. Insight develops with experience in any field. A person who is ' ' intuitive ' ' by nature, as we say, is likely to retain his intuition despite all failures, criticisms, doubts, and in the end to enlarge it into insight. So an impressionable person who readily discovers what the Quakers call "lead- ings," who has "impressions," "guidances," may pass mH, W. Dresser, Human Efficiency, 1912, Chap. X, 326 Vocational and Industrial Psychology through a period of skepticism when his intuition seems to be gone; and yet he is likely to find that inferences or self-conscious conclusions never wholly take the place of first-hand impressions. Any native ability or aptitude is likely to disclose itself intuitively at first. Our impres- sions or leadings are likely to be in line with our life-work. Thus a policeman may disclose remarkable ability in find- ing missing persons, and later specialize in that field, as in the case of a former captain of the New York Police Department. A person without any special training for placement work may find himself doing such work with great success, competing with and often surpassing special- ists who depend solely on scientific methods. Some men discover native ability in discerning character in young people, and helping them to find the right town or city to work in, the right occupation, the right opportunities in general. The successful teacher may find himself doing vocational guidance work without special training for it. Old Methods.-To examine methods of reading charac- ter implying the so-called pseudo-sciences is to find that so far as they claim to be intuitive there is a mingling of impressions of character, more or less right, with judg- ments implying partial knowledge varying with the ex- perimenter. In the case of the foreman or placement sec- retary of exceptional ability, the explanation is found in the personal character and equipment of an individual specially developed in judging men and women. It is the guess-work of the less gifted which has brought intui- tion into disrepute. But there is no reason for discount- ing the abilities of placement workers who are actually successful even though they sometimes fail, and although it is difficult to standardize their judgments. Individual Judgments.-The partisan of external meth- ods is sure to discount this plea for intuition in relation to dominant characteristics required by given occupations, on the ground that such a scheme affords no basis for exact measurement. Yet the more truly a man knows himself the more he will tend to raise the question whether his dominant interest or ability fits in with a given occu- Vocational Guidance 327 pation. A man who is primarily an actor or business man might well consider whether he is doing right if he decides to become a minister, and we often listen to preachers who should be either on the stage or in business. If I am primarily a teacher in my abilities, this is an important fact for me to discover. If I am primarily a writer rather than a public speaker, this primacy of interest is likely to run through all my activities. Those of us who discover dominant interests later in life are inclined, with very good reason, to insist that the young person should take every opportunity to learn what the dominant interest is, and then consider how it is related to various occupations which have been suggested. Eventually the young person Will wish to attain a state of development which will make independent judgment possible. It is an advantage to consult advisers of different types with different points of view: the counselor who knows the occupations and com- mercial conditions very well, but who has little insight into the finer things of life, little acquaintance with psychology; the adviser who knows psychology well with- out being well informed in all the industries; the teacher who talks frankly concerning opportunities in his profes- sion; the friend whose advice is prevailingly ethical, who emphasizes ideals, looks beyond the standards of worldly success. Moral Qualities.-While mental and physical tests may be said to disclose qualities essential to certain kinds of work, and observation and questions help to determine the possession or lack of certain other important traits, what is to be said about other characteristics which go to make up an individual, and the means of detecting these? For instance, the examination of an applicant by means of a job analysis may show that a man has the abilities of a first-rate operator, but actual results may show that he is a very poor operator, possibly on account of his dislike for the work, dissatisfaction with the pay, or lack of ambition. In short, there are moral qualities, or qualities of character, which must be distinguished from qualities of technique, or ability as disclosed by the tests. 328 Vocational and Industrial Psychology In contrast with specialists who put the whole emphasis on intelligence tests, Link calls attention to the impor- tance of considering these qualities, although little is known about the origin and operation of such qualities as he specifies, namely, enthusiasm, determination, cheer- fulness, reliability, and their opposites; qualities which are obviously best noted when an individual is at work.15 Laziness and discontent are not necessarily inherent qual- ities, but may appear when a worker is ill suited to his job. A worker who, as the tests show, is well suited to his particular task may still prove disgruntled and lazy, possibly because of ambition to do something else, as may be proved by giving him opportunity to work at the job which he prefers, a job which enlists other moral qualities. Again, laziness, unsteadiness, dishonesty, and the like, may indeed be inherent, whatever the work. It is not safe to judge that a person either has or has not the moral qualities, variable as these are. Link proposes a division into skilled and unskilled workers, the former having attained their skill through a process of education and experience which leads to the conclusion that the workers actually possess determination, ambition, and other desirable moral traits. Again, the expert workman is likely to be interested in his work for its own sake, while the unskilled worker probably has little love of work. There is need of testing applicants with great care, so as to place them where their natural abilities may be immediately applied. The Vestibule School.-What can be accomplished by means of a period of training in a preliminary school in which to observe and coach new employees? The unskilled employee may be brought to the stage where he can earn a desirable week's pay, and the moral qualities may be discovered by actual observation; and the applicants may have a certain degree of choice in their work. Under these conditions the applicant is hired according to the best judgment of the employment manager, after a sym- pathetic interview, a physical examination, and psycho- is Employment Psychology, Part II, Vocational Guidance 329 logical test; lie is then sent to the vestibule school to be trained for a certain position. The measure of interest and liking can be determined by results. In the office vestibule school, as in the case of the Larkin Company of Buffalo, each class of work, such as typing, correspond- ence, counting-machine operating, filing, bookkeeping, mes- senger service, may be taken up separately by a group of new workers. A stenographer who claims to be a graduate of some business college and to have had considerable ex- perience may be tested in manifold ways. Impatience under instruction may perhaps be noted, or signs of in- attention, tardiness in arrival at the school, too much attention given to personal matters, incorrigibility, a tend- ency to become ''driftwood." But the element of compe- tition under such conditions may prove very beneficial, also supplementary coaching, a trial at a different kind of work. Factory Work.-A shop vestibule school may be either a centralized school, equipped with typical machines, with typical operations taught in a central place; or equipment may be set apart in portions of the shop itself. In the former case one expert in personnel work can supervise the training of all the novices, the novices may be tried out in different types of work; in the latter the applicant may be tried out and at once sent to the shop in which his work is done, the proximity of the novice to the actual work of the shop enables him to see what his work and environment are to be. The novice is likely to learn very quickly whether he likes or dislikes the work, by the decentralized method. Link emphasizes the factor of dis- like for a particular kind of work, because labor turnover shows that dislike for work in factories is one of the large causes in the element of change from place to place, job to job. Again, the applicant who is chosen for immediate work in a shop is put under a certain moral obligation to succeed. When an applicant decides to go to a specific shop and do a specific job, his mind is at least made up; his state of mind is conducive to his success at that job. But in a school the whole attitude of mind is experimental, 330 Vocational and Industrial Psychology a person's original uncertainty and indecision are likely to be increased. Selection and Retention.-Some devotees of psychologi- cal tests hold that when a scheme has been devised for selecting the right man for the right place, all the prob- lems of employment management will be solved. Accord- ing to Link, it is more important to know when the right man for the right place has actually been selected. Is the man remaining because he is really the right man or be- cause he was able to get by1! How do we know that a man is really a success? Much depends on the degree of correlation between the judgment of a superior officer and that of the employment manager. Link examines this problem in minute detail. His method involves comparison of the productiveness of individuals when producing the same thing, under uniform conditions, when the condi- tions foster work at fullest capacity; reference to a precise test; and measurement by limited impressions. Under the latter head may be considered, for example, industry, as the quality which most closely corresponds to produc- tion. No two men would be likely to agree concerning such qualities as honesty, neatness, initiative, diplomacy, attention, personal appearance, temperament, intelligence, or responsibility; yet their limited impressions would be of value. Thus a worker may be rated according to at- tendance, industry, intelligence (defined by Link as "the quickness and thoroughness with which an employee grasps and executes tasks and directions"), reliability, speed, initiative, tact, executive ability, orderliness, and habits. In his chart for noting individual progress, Link's classi- fication of temperaments is as follows: enthusiastic, indif- ferent, conservative, willing, stubborn, persistent, quick- tempered, even-tempered. The use of such a scheme will obviously depend upon the knowledge of human nature with which we interpret each term. Link admits that his classification is by no means exhaustive or unambiguous. At best it is a starting-point for judging qualities not easily classifiable. Each quality is given a numerical value, so that the scheme affords a precise basis of com- Vocational Guidance 331 parison. Estimates of these qualities should never be made by equals, since fellow workers are unable to ex- press an honest opinion of possible rivals. Industrial Education.-Calling attention to the remark- able changes in education in recent years, in the direction of practical pursuits, and the founding of vocational guid- ance associations, Link emphasizes the fact that vocational preparation is apt to be too narrow, to prepare the indi- vidual for a particular kind of occupation only; whereas the individual must learn "not only how to make a living but how to live, how to adjust himself to the complexities of his environment."16 It is industrial education that is needed. Industrial organizations have taken the lead in extending the scope of education, in developing new edu- cational methods, in giving new content to educational thought. The great laboratories of industrial education are not now the schools but the industries; for example, in a given case where the aim is to develop the ability, interest, and good-will of the business in connection with the institutional spirit. Difficulties in Vocational Guidance.-"Laudable as is the desire," says Link, "to prevent square pegs from get- ting into round holes, psychologists are now beginning to realize that to map out the innate tendencies and abilities of an individual is an almost hopeless task and that they have been tremendously presumptuous in assuming, with their present knowledge of psychology and human nature, that such a thing was practicable. It is also becoming evident that if it were possible, the task of correlating these qualities with the requirements of an infinite variety of vocations is almost as difficult."17 In the past it has not been customary in giving voca- tional guidance to give sufficient attention to the flexibility or adaptability of human nature. "It is becoming more and more obvious that individuals can adapt themselves to a great variety of situations, often quite regardless of the innate qualities which vocational experts may think is Education and Industry, 1923, p. 4. it Op. cit, p. 111. 332 Vocational and Industrial Psychology they possess, once their enthusiasm or determination is aroused. A person may be ideally fitted, in the eyes of a vocational counselor, for a particular kind of work, but if he lacks the inclination for that kind of work the prob- abilities are that he will be unhappy in it and will fail to succeed. On the other hand, an individual may seem quite unfitted for a particular vocation but if, for any number of possible reasons, he is determined to undertake it, the probabilities of his success are good. ' ' In contrast then with specialists who confidently affirm that a man's likes and dislikes have nothing to do with the matter, that it is solely a question of standard mental tests, Link holds to the view that the most important factor in the successful placing of new employees is desire for a particular kind of work. This being ascertained, tests may be used to determine whether the applicant has ac- quired the kinds of ability needed for success in a reason- ably short time. So too in vocational education the choice of the individual is equally important. If individuals are prepared for a vocation which they do not like, their edu- cation is likely to be a misplaced investment. Hence the importance of courses designed to give vocational informa- tion, devoted solely to a study of occupations. The prime result of more intelligent investigation of the whole field, psychologically speaking, should be a shifting of emphasis from 11 general intelligence and general intelligence tests," which have so stultified the field of vocational guidance, to a more specific analysis of individuals with reference to particular occupations. REFERENCES Brewer, J. M., The Vocational Guidance Movement, 1918 (bib- liography). Parsons, F., Choosing a Vocation, 1909. Puffer, J. A., V ocational Guidance, 1913. Mote, C. H., Learning to Earn, 1915, Chap. XIV. If Olling worth, H. L., Vocational Psychology, 1916 (bib- liography). Merton, H. W., How to Choose the Right Vocation, 1917. Lyon, L. S., Education for Business, 1922. Vocational Guidance 333 Weaver, E. W., Building a Career, 1922. Moore, H. £L, The Youth and the Nation, 1917. Snedden, D. F., Vocational Education, 1920 (see Appendix for Occupational Statistics). Hill, D. S., Introduction to Vocational Guidance, 1920. Link, H. C., Employment Psychology, 1919, Part II; Educa- tion and Industry, 1923, Chap. VII. CHAPTER XXI THE INSTINCTS IN INDUSTRY Prominent among the instincts which become active in early life is that of constructiveness, described as in every way as genuine and irresistible in man as in the bee or the beaver. Children early begin to tear things apart to see how they are made, to shape and remodel whatever is plastic, to build out of blocks, then to design and transform as imagination develops. Man provides a shelter or home for himself in response to this instinct. Whether or not we agree with the behaviorist in reducing this instinct to that of manipulation, it is significant that manipulation in its various forms is described as the 1 'most important of all original tendencies in view of the fact that nearly all later habit formations are dependent upon it," save those instincts which have to do with bodily functions (Watson). Manipulation at least involves the germs of constructiveness and inventiveness, and it leads the way to imagination. We are concerned with an irreducible tendency which has much to do with determining human nature. Human nature is conditioned by instinctive proclivities which make toward distinctive ends. It is the instinct which involves the drive or impulse, while it is intelligence that later makes the objectives explicit and adopts means to ends which the organism is already pursuing. The constructive instinct appears amidst others making for self-preservation, the per- petuation of the species, instincts which strengthen one an- other and function together. Some of these are primarily concerned with self-preservation in the immediate struggle for environment under primitive conditions, while others appear in more marked degree in connection with curiosity 334 The Instincts in Industry 335 and acquisitiveness. Suggestibility and imitativeness are akin to constructiveness. The instincts take on higher forms under freer or more leisurely conditions. The boy who builds houses and railroads of the simplest blocks later produces by the aid of tools, then in imagination he may make mechanical or other inventions long before he has training of any sort to organize his constructive ability. The Instinct of Workmanship.-It is not necessary to presuppose an original or independent proclivity to exhibit skill. Skilled movements imply habit, which we need not judge adversely, since habit is essential. Workmanship appears amidst various aptitudes. Manipulation, con- structiveness, make-believe, story-telling, and other tenden- cies function together, interest in making things increases, and later a prompting to make them better, to attain greater skill by trial and error, by imitation. The functional con- tent of workmanship is defined by Veblen as serviceability for the ends of life, whatever these ends may be; as auxiliary to interests concerned with practical expendi- tures, ways and means, devices and contrivances, efficiency and economy, the technical mastery of facts, proficiency, and creative work. It involves the proclivity for taking pains, and so is allied not only with the arts in primitive and civilized times, but with predatory culture under ownership and later under the competitive system. It is seen under free conditions in certain periods of human history, and amidst inhibitions with the coming in of me- chanical and time-regulating conditions, the era of im- personal and quantitative standards which tend to dis- credit all imputation of special traits. So a training in matter-of-fact, in the logic of the machine-process, takes the place of the former craftsmanship. The mechanical age is plainly not adapted to the native endowment of the race in this respect. The tendency is to suppress the instinct of craftsmanship altogether. The Creative Impulse.-Marot contends that partisan demands dominate thought in industrial education, the business-idea prostitutes effort; whereas industry should be the great field for adventure and growth, in which produc- 336 Vocational and Industrial Psychology tive experience is utilized to the full.1 "All productive force is artificially sustained which is not dependent on men's desire to do creative work." The creative process should be identified with the educational. There can be no social progress while there is antagonism between growth in wealth (industry) and growth in individuals (educa- tion). The present antagonism between education and business is due to the fact that business regulates and con- trols industry. The modern production of wealth, under the influence of business enterprise and machine technology, has fairly well extinguished the appreciation and the joy of creative experience. In the period of craftsmanship, it was a question of serviceability. The factory era followed and crushed this spirit. Business is concerned wholly with utility, conformity to the exigencies of profit. Our in- dustrial institutions have grown out of a predatory con- cept instead of a creative one. Capture has been rewarded rather than work. The possessive idea has been stimulated. Hence the creative potentiality of the common people's productive energy has been discounted. "What we need is a conception of industry as a socially creative enterprise. The tendency of modern industry is seen, for example, in the case of scientific management which has sought the scientific laws involved for the benefit of industry, not for the sake of men. Similarly in Germany industrial strategy or education has imposed prevailing methods of industry as final and determined.2 Children have been bound to cur- rent industrial practice, with imagination stifled, with no regard for industry as an evolving process. Methods have been imposed as right, on authority. The aim of the system has been docile, efficient labor. Veblen has shown that machine industry was imposed ready-made on a people whose psychology was feudal. Industrial Education.-Having shown the bondage of labor under the present industrial system culminating in the servility of the people in Germany, and in scientific management in America, Miss Marot maintains that it is 1 Helen Marot, The Creative Impulse in Industry, 1918. 2 Ibid., Chap. III. The Instincts in Industry 337 for education to do what business has failed to do, namely, to initiate productive enterprises where young people will be free to gain first-hand experience in the problems of im dustry, in alliance with engineers, architects, and managers of industry who have made themselves through experience and training masters of applied science and the economics of production.3 Experiments are needed to stimulate the impulses of youth for creative expression. There is need of workshops in connection with schools, financed independ- ently of the schools, not on the basis of profits, although the capital invested could draw a legal rate of interest. There should be education in the universal factors com- mon to all industry, the relation of labor, of mechanical equipment, raw materials, and the finished product to the whole and to each other • and the relation of the market to productive effort, for example, in the toy industry. The subjects suggested are: technical problems of manu- facture; keeping the financial accounts and estimating the costs; up-keep of the working force, building, and equip- ment ; the economics of the enterprise; art and service; literature, history, inspirational stories of industrial life. The practical tests of work would be: Was the creative impulse aroused? Were standards of workmanship dis- covered? Was a broad as well as a working knowledge of the subject-matter acquired? Did the children appreciate established working methods in a spirit of hospitality and of inquiry as to their validity? Did the problems create sufficient interest to arouse the desire and will to reject faulty methods, and introduce others of greater service? Was the enterprise a productive one from the point of view of the market, and an educational one from the point of view of youth ? The results achieved by Mr. Wolf in one of our great industries are in line with Miss Marot's appeal. An appli- cation of personnel management in the educational field would call for .the same emphasis on the creative instinct. Meanwhile, it should be apparent that while this instinct has not been fostered on the part of labor in the industries, z Ibid., Chap. IV. 338 Vocational and Industrial Psychology invention has never been so greatly encouraged as in the present industrial epoch. It is the instinct of craftsman- ship rather than the creative impulse that has been dulled. In the tendency to specialize tens of thousands of men have been consigned to routine work at machines, while thousands have had exceptional advantages in the produc- tion of mechanical inventions. Problems of Industrial Education.-Approaching the subject of industrial education from the point of view of recent work undertaken by the industries, Link raises a number of significant questions.4 "The enthusiasm of companies for the education of their employees has led them, in many instances, to usurp activities usually re- garded as functions of the educational system. There are companies which conduct classes in English, the foreign languages, arithmetic, and many other studies which have been taught in the schools for years and which any em- ployee who has the inclination may take. This situation naturally brings up the question: Can industries go on in- definitely . . . with the expansion of their educational programs?" Is it to their ultimate advantage? The result seems to be a widening of the gap between industry and education, with opportunities for cooperation on the part of educators overlooked. The Creative Instinct.-Inquiring more closely into the creative impulse we note its appearance in connection with talent and exceptional ability. A boy is found modeling little figures in clay, the observer sees evidences of the potential sculptor, and the youth is later given the training needed to develop his potentiality. The young person who begins to write verse without any training, the future story writer to whom plots, scenes, and incidents readily come; the artist who catches a vision of a landscape to be put on canvas, the architect who sees a whole building at once in a mental picture, all exemplify this instinct. The creative prompting assumes various forms according to dif- ferent types. Mr. Cassatt, coming home from Europe, has a vision of tunnels under the Hudson and the East 4 Education and Industry, 1923, p. 7. The Instincts in Industry 339 River, with a great station for his railroad, the Pennsyl- vania, in New York City: the project seems impossible to his critics, but his vision is realized. The creative impulse points forward to truth as its goal when allied with interest in the sciences, to beauty in the fine arts, to goodness in human conduct. It is allied with the realm of values or the "world of appreciation" in contrast with the world of bare facts, in philosophy; with the realm of romance or poetry, in literature. The creative process is much the same in the case of all who do productive work. There is an impetus or urge to produce, there are mental pictures of completed structures, there are standards of excellence pertaining to the eternal values. The great essential is to " get an idea, ' ' and in the industries as in literature or art the man with an idea is in demand. How shall we get ideas ? By having a productive purpose in life, a leading interest which quickens our powers to work in full vigor in the direction in which we are eager to produce. By regarding the self as creative by instinct, as having gifts or talents which need opportunity to develop, sufficient leisure for productivity according to high standards, without haste. By having self-reliance and independence in the face of opposition. By listening, seek- ing, giving the mind time to brood over plans, projects, lead- ing interests. By taking the creative mood when it comes and giving response. Craftsmanship.-The ideal which once prevailed in the manual arts, when "art was still religion," inspired the worker to do his particular work as well as it could be done by him. The artisan sought the best materials, gave careful attention to details, and took time enough to com- plete his work so that all parts of it should be equally well done. He was interested in craftsmanship for its own sake. He looked upon his work as worth doing in it itself. Again, his particular work, for instance, wood-carving in a great cathedral, was a contribution toward a whole. In some in- stances at least his work was purely for the sake of beauty, the thought of material reward being in every way secondary. The worker found his greatest compensation in 340 Vocational and Industrial Psychology the work he did. He was not thinking of the number of hours he worked. He was not trying to cheat anybody. Having found excellent materials to work with, his hands wrought excellent things. It will be said of course that in the present machine age there is no opportunity for craftsmanship. Yet there are still many kinds of work which may be regarded as parts of the fine art of work by keeping an ideal standard in mind, by working as if observed by a master craftsman. Thus one may consider the possibility of becoming a master man even in running an electric car or the locomotive of a limited train. The attainment of exceptional skill or ex- cellence in any kind of work brings satisfaction to the worker, in developing his powers to the full. Thus the in- dividual may break away in a measure from the "system" and enter an ideal world of thought, meanwhile growing in inner control, in mastery of the brain as an effective in- strument; he may grow in order, system, thought, the co- ordination of his powers. On the Job.-In all kinds of work there are modes of activity by which the work in question is done as well as it can be done. Certain qualities stand out above others in such excellence, also in emergencies. Coolness or control is shown in the case of the driver of a fire engine in New York who had to decide instantly between running down two children who were crossing the street, or turning his horses toward a plate-glass window and meeting his own death; or the fireman who quietly announced from the stage of a theater which was on fire behind the scenes that there was a fire in an adjoining building, and so by his calmness in an emergency prevented a panic. The captain of a steamship, on fire at sea with rudder lost or with a dangerous leak, has exceptional opportunity for masterful coolness. Contrasting such self-control with the usual im- pulsiveness in a panic, we see the importance of cultivating control in any possible situation or occupation. Coolness in emergencies means mastery of the brain to that extent. Such mastery is an element of skill in any performance, for example, in the case of the public speaker who never gesticu- The Instincts in Industry 341 lates nervously but always intentionally if at all; who does not raise his voice at random, and whose skillful utterance shows exceptional command of language. He is "right on the job," we now say of any man who has made himself efficient on his own initiative. Habit and Skill.-The art of making good implies utiliz- ing habit without troubling one's self by the fact that habit is essentially mechanism even in the case of moral habits. Dewey has shown that there is practice of skill subsequent to practice for skill, as in the case of the artist who main- tains and steadily adds to his art already acquired. A flexible, sensitive habit grows more varied, more adaptable by practice and use. But artistic skill is as much habit as mechanical routine. "How delicate, prompt, sure and varied are the move- ments of a violin player or an engraver! How unerringly they phrase every shade of emotion and every turn of an idea! Mechanism is indispensable. Nevertheless the dif- ference between the artist and the mere technician is un- mistakable. The artist is a masterful technician. The technique or mechanism is fused with thought and feeling. The 'mechanical' performer permits the mechanism to dictate the performance. Yet the dualism of mind and body, thought and action, is so rooted that we are taught . . . that the art, the habit of the artist is acquired by previous mechanical exercises of repetition in which skill apart from thought is the aim, until, suddenly, magically, this soulless mechanism is taken possession of by sentiment and imagination, and it becomes a flexible habit of mind. ' '5 But the whole mechanism is carried forward in the practice of skill which has made skill a matter of habit. It will be said that in the iron age of industry it is now a question of balked instincts, thwarted desires, and long- ings for creative expression which find no outlet. But there is no solution even for the labor troubles which spring from repressed desires without recognition of the creative side of our nature, and ideals are essential to reconstruction. The more severe the conditions, the greater is the need for 5 John Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct, p. 71. 342 Vocational and Industrial Psychology psychological knowledge of the attitudes, emotions, aspira- tions of those who struggle against them. The conditions which impede one man will be regarded as opportunities for development by another. Habit, routine, system is a mechanical taskmaster which binds, or a means to ends which makes for freedom. The man who makes good en- counters many of the same conditions as the man who fails. The difference is in the intelligence, the effort wherewith the conditions are met. Successful life is always in part adjustment to conditions not of our choosing, adaptation to circumstances which can be utilized. The ideals which quicken men in other fields may also be related to the in- dustries. Invention.-R. M. Simpson characterizes creative abil- ity as "marked by the initiative which one evidences by his power to break away from the usual sequences of thought into an altogether different thought." The true measure of a person's creative capacities is the "frequency of spontaneity of thought." There is an "initiative of devia- tion" in all creations, labored or inspired. The free work- ing of curiosity or the wonder instinct is essential to in- ventiveness.6 Bogardus points out that invention and leadership are related phenomena, psychologically speaking. In a broad sense invention includes inventing, discovering, prophesy- ing, organizing, directing natural and social forces. It is implied in the "happy creative moment" of the most fortunate minds. Invention means coming upon, seeing into, and perceiving new relationships. It involves a mental flash and a correlation. To see a new relationship is the essence of invention. In general, invention springs from individuality, of which it is the normal expression. If we had the insight to detect it, we would find the child full of new and original potentialities. The dynamic element in all instinct is funda- mental to invention. The lazy man rarely innovates. But curiosity naturally leads to and culminates in invention. Although imitation is its opposite, an inventive atmosphere G American Journal of Psychology, April, 1922, p. 235. The Instincts in Industry 343 is highly stimulating. Again, necessity is its cause. It is allied to modification in natural evolution, with its trans- formations and marked deviations. The leader is a social inventor. Leadership arises from the self-assertive impulses of personality. The tendencies to act, to think, achieve, are basic to it. The individual tends to build up a point of view of his own. A fine physique, physical energy, mental energy and endurance tend to foster it. The great leader is a 11 moral dynamo. ' ' He has ability to organize individuals, to drive or draw, manipulate groups, build, originate, and so carry inventiveness to the full.7 A recent writer has undertaken to throw light on the whole function of creativeness, with reference to the artist as an illustration. The artist is in most respects like an ordinary man; but he has one or two qualities developed to excess: he may possess an excess of nervous sensibility, or of introspective analysis, of animal good spirits, matured or digested experience. In any case it is always this superfluity which the artist makes use of to embody in his work: he employs it in creation because it finds no outlet and is unabsorbed in his life. Creation then is an attempt to satisfy the instinctive demand of a certain innate quality in the creator's mind which has found no external satisfac- tion in actual existence; as artist he attempts, since no one else will do so, to work off this debt to himself in the shape of a number of works of art. One of the signs is found in the unhappiness of the artist, another in his fecundity: art then is prophylaxis, catharsis.8 This view is in accord with recent psychological emphasis on sublimation. If man understood himself, he would seek creative expression for the life-urge which is in us all; he would know that conflict and unhappiness are signs of power which might be expressed creatively. Many are un- happy in the industries, in business without knowing exactly why: they have no creative outlet in their daily toil, and they do not know how to find it in an avocation; or they lack time, strength, opportunity. The difficulty sometimes t E. S. Bogardus, Social Psychology, 1920, Chaps. IX, X. 8 J. G. Fletcher, New York Evening Post, May 26, 1923. 344 Vocational and Industrial Psychology runs back to childhood, for it is not customary for parents to recognize and enlist creative power in appropriate ways. Our creative nature is not understood in relation to the sexual instinct. We have little appreciation of the in- stinct of workmanship as demanding creative recognition. Instead, we permit conditions which foster discontent, so that even work itself is under condemnation. Getting an Idea.-It is interesting to note the stages through which an idea passes in any kind of productive work. The idea may flash into mind when one is at leisure or in the midst of work, while listening to a speaker, at a play, walking down the street, or on awakening in the morning. The mind then dwells on the idea for a time, gathering information it may be, putting the idea in re- lation to others by contrast or correlating it by association. Then the mind is likely to dismiss it, allowing time for germination. The man who knows his mind well, will then wait for spontaneous indications that the best time has come to develop or write out that idea in systematic form. He will write when the mood is on. All creative work is done in much the same way, the vision of a completed structure, the mental picture which is to be put on canvas, the plan that is to be carried out corresponds with the idea which the writer develops. Summary.-The constructive instinct is allied with other instincts and dispositions which give expression to the original urge or drive of human nature. It manifests itself in various forms as development proceeds, as curiosity seeks satisfaction, and opportunity affords outlet for productive ability. The prompting to do creative work is observable in connection with higher standards, the at- tainment of skill, the ideal of craftsmanship. It is difficult in the iron age of industry, when workers are at odds with economic conditions, and the incentives to labor are lessened, to find expression for the constructive instinct. Yet the individual should realize that he can not attain satisfaction if he permits disturbances over external con- ditions to cramp his inner life. Individual self-knowledge in these matters is essential to co-operation and the recovery The Instincts in Industry 345 of the ideals of craftsmanship. It is for those who regulate the conditions in the industries, and provide opportunities for education, to give special attention to the creative in- stinct and foster its development. James, W., Principles of Psychology, 1890, Vol. II, p. 426. Veblen, T., The Instinct of Workmanship, 1914. Tead, Ordway, Instincts in Industry, 1918. Marot, Helen, The Creative Impulse in Industry, 1918. Bogardus, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, Chaps. IX, X. Link, H. C., Education and Industry, 1923, Chaps. I, II, VI, XV. Ewer, B. C., Applied Psychology, 1923, Chap. XVII. REFERENCES CHAPTER XXII BUSINESS SUCCESS Every one in his right mind, not under orders to shirk, wishes to make good. Much depends on finding sooner or later an occupation which enlists one's energies to the full and gives satisfaction, particularly in the case of the man who is interested to go into business for himself or to occupy a position in some industry for which he has aptitude. The earning of a sufficient livelihood in any occupation that may offer is often regarded as making good, although this simpler form of success is not what we ordinarily mean. Adaptation to life, to difficult situ- ations, to a creed, form of government, type of business, economic order to which one objects, is a part of the total process; but only the few systematize life's situations so that all elements may be seen in connection with the fine art of life. We are apt to discount the adversities, even to neglect the element of character-building, if we suc- ceed financially. The extent to which we try to make good in life's enterprise in general depends on our type, intel- ligence, ideals. As a rule writers on the art of success draw illustrations from the lives of men who have suc- ceeded in marked degree; little is said about making good mentally amidst incidental failures. Getting the Idea.-We make good by learning what others are doing in fields of excellence, hence by emula- tion, noting examples in biography, history, fiction, the drama, science, invention. Most people think in concrete or personal terms, hence few are aided by studies of the general principles of success. We make good by acquiring inner control, mental efficiency; by keeping high stand- ards of craftsmanship before the mind and working in accordance with these ideals even when environment ap- 346 Business Success 347 pears to be unfavorable. Therefore each in a way develops his own methods and principles, just as each man learns by experience in the course of time what is favorable or unfavorable to his health, granted his temperament and constitution. Ethically speaking, we make good by doing what is right because it is right, not because we will be found out if we lapse, or punished if caught in wrong doing. So we come to understand that success in any direction is according to principle or law, amidst certain discoverable conditions, by adapting means to ends; es- pecially by gaining an incentive sufficient to carry through to the end, even amidst set-backs, adverse criticism, con- flict, temptation. Concentration.-As an element of success, concentra, tion varies with the occupation; for example, that of the scholar or executive specializing on a problem, or the in- ventor keeping in mind the details of a machine he is thinking out and producing till every element of the structure is complete. The telegraph operator, the loco- motive engineer, the driver of a taxicab, the aviator, the steamship captain acquires the requisite concentration as part of the training which fits him for his work. Succes- sive acts of attention in acquiring the necessary habits and the essential details of a job come first, then specific at- tention directing the requisite habits, followed by the steady concentration by which the expert keeps himself on his job. Increased skill comes with more acute attention given to necessary details, coupled with that constancy of atten- tion by which a man maintains a standard when once acquired. Work and Health.-The one who makes good is pru- dent in caring for his health according to the conditions to which he must adapt himself, as a man of a certain type, with a certain mode of living, working, resting, tak- ing a vacation, seeking a change of thought according to need. A man is likely to discover, for example, whether he is a day-worker or night-worker, temperamentally; whether he is able to keep very late hours more than three nights in succession; what sort of recreation brings best 348 Vocational and Industrial Psychology results; what kind of vacation is really worth while. One also learns to avoid undue consciousness of routine, monotony, or other matters tending to interfere with his efficiency. If possible one has an avocation that can be regularly pursued, an opportunity for keeping a perspec- tive; also interests which are of value in themselves, such as truth for its own sake in some branch of science. Some can work best under pressure, with other people in the room, or amidst interruptions; others require leisure and freedom, and must give more thought to avoiding tension, lessening fatigue, saving time and energy. The Secret of Success.-Many "secrets" have been told, now that the art of success is in question. Most accounts dwell on the value of small beginnings, persistence in doing well what is at hand, alertness for new ideas, and quickness in seizing upon new opportunities which can be made productive. To increase efficiency in whatever ac- tivity is at hand is directly helpful in any connection, despite what skeptics say about the impossibility of the transfer of training from one field to another. To do the little things with acuter attention and increased skill, is to prepare for future excellence; for the little acts are cumulative. To make fewer mistakes, hence to require less supervision, is also to prepare the way. To do well the work at hand as of value in itself apart from the return it brings, is a means of attaining a high standard. By bettering one's work one betters one's self, and so becomes the more nearly ready for an advance to another occupa- tion. The employee who makes himself of greater value to his employer is so far making good. Any worker may regard himself as a "maker and seller of service." A high standard, maintained in the face of opposition, is one of the great essentials. It is also agreed that ability to do hard work is an essential. It might then be said that the secret of success lies in mastering inertia, pushing through inhibitions, and utilizing the available energies in a steady, systematic way. Suggestion as an Element.-We have noted that hetero- suggestion is changed into auto-suggestion by the mind Business Success 349 that accepts it. A suggestion to buy a piece of goods, a house-lot, a motor-boat, a thing we neither want nor need becomes effective if the mind raises no successful objection. We are caught when not on the alert, when ignorant or "green." The one who understands the sug- gestibility of human nature, may seek to engage the at- tention of a possible buyer, arouse and hold interest till the proposition is 11 put over ' ' in such a way as to forestall or outwit objections. So in some lines of trade what is called success depends very largely on fostering the art of suggestion. The successful salesman knows the weaknesses of human nature for bargains, fashions, finery, stylish goods, goods made in London or Paris, also goods which command a price which only the wealthy can pay. The greater the probable responsiveness, the more dependence may be put on suggestion. Suggestion is, of course, an increasing element in all dishonest transactions. But suggestibility is not necessarily a sign of weakness. Sug- gestion is also an element in success that is worth while. So much has been written on success from the point of view of suggestion that it has become a question how far a success can be created out of hand. There is plainly a legitimate and an illegitimate use of one's knowledge of human nature, the laws of attention, interest, and as- sociation whereby the purchaser is won over. There is always the prior question: What is success in life? What is right, true, just? A man will use suggestion ac- cording to his prevailing motive. The same mental power which he may refuse to employ in a dishonest way can be lifted to a higher level and creditably turned to account. Essential to success in any undertaking is a certain be- lief in one's self, a productive attitude towards life, a group of convictions which serve at least for the time being to give constancy in pursuing an end. The affirmative attitude is required, whatever the motive, an incentive sufficient to arouse the energies in full vigor; and when a man concentrates upon a piece of work which he believes to be right he can be affirmative without inner conflict. A negative attitude is not merely aquiescence in the face 350 Vocational and Industrial Psychology of doubt, or loss of energy through failure to concentrate; it is often downright opposition or inhibition. Hence a suggestion of success is imperative, and there should be no anxiety complex or deterrent imagery tending to defeat the will. The assurance of victory is the first step toward success. Assertion.-So much has been said about affirmation and the subconscious mind that a notion is current that success is due to a hidden process, equivalent to finding a royal road or direct access to what we want without much effort, a way to another's mind which disarms all opposition. Hence some try by suggestion to attain suc- cess before they have anything to offer, without training, without knowledge of the world of trade. This is equiva- lent to seeking something for nothing, without regard to laws, conditions, standards, ideals. We witness the effect of such suggestion in the case of unscrupulous advertising, where there is no quality to sell, where cleverness in word- ing an appeal takes the place of merit or truth; where there are big claims, sheer assertions, without ability to deliver the goods. Sheer assertion or boasting can boom a town, a building site, or a piece of goods. So too great assurance or conceit carries people for a while. But real success depends on ability to substantiate our propositions. It is not an insidious process, but pays the equivalent, and must take each step according to laws of evolution. If we inquire into standard methods to-day, we find advertisers more inclined to tell the truth, having worked the harder to produce excellent goods. The public is far more on the alert for camouflage or deceit, especially since the days of propagandism in its subtle forms; people are on the lookout for goods which prove to be according to claims. The best affirmative attitude is the one which can be verified by delivering precisely the goods promised. The number of people who can be deceived all the time grows less. The promoter or booster who must depend on talk is unmasked sooner or later. The better the goods or the projects, the more they speak for themselves. If you have an end in view that is worth while, if you Business Success 351 are able to make good your claims, so as to follow a first move with another that increases the confidence of the observer or purchaser, you are concerned to know human nature, not primarily for the sake of succeeding when your project is not worth while, or in selling goods to a man who does not want them; you utilize your knowledge of psychology to adapt yourself to minds of various types in a perfectly straightforward way. You do not study per- sonal influence to sway people contrary to their nature. You do not investigate the subconscious mind to insinuate suggestions into the mind of buyers, to get a better job out of a superintendent than you deserve, to push ahead of a rival by sheer assurance. Nor do you pay any attention to schemes promising a quick art of success through "will- power" or any other special "faculty." But you try to know your powers of persuasion or personal influence so as to use them honorably, to overcome any eccentricity, fear, self-consciousness, doubt or inhibitory trait that may bar the way to success. Psychology discloses mental types, the intelligent quo- tient, the function of memory, the laws of association, the place of attention or interest. It reminds you that there are limitations of memory according to capacity and type. It calls attention to instinctive reactions in contrast with thought. It admonishes you that man is apt to be emo- tional, impulsive, when you thought of him as essentially rational. It discloses many direct clues to mental effi- ciency, the utilizing of habit, the economy of psychic energy. But it does not disclose secrets whereby one can get something for nothing, as if we were not under the reign of law, as if the mind were not determined by the body but could do and have and be anything it likes by a law of its own. It advises you to learn both how the mind normally functions, and how it can best function in the case of a man of your type. The Corner Stones.-Granted ambition, industry, self- control, and a reasonably good education, psychology is able to explain how the mind operates by means of its interests and strivings. But the level of intelligence, the 352 Vocational and Industrial Psychology amount of psychic energy is given: on these will depend the industry and self-control. Granted congenial employ- ment, enthusiasm, imagination, sympathy, the personal qualities which manifest themselves in courtesy, good-will, the process of success becomes apparent. So in the case of any group of qualities singled out by those who write on "success," it is easy to speak of them as if anybody could have them for the asking. Examples are cited of men who possess the essentials in high degree, as if these men habitually manifested these qualities and no others, w7ith no fluctuations of mood, with few adversities to over- come. But there is no magic in any group of qualities. It is a simple matter to indicate qualities of success in a worker: concentration on the work at hand, honest effort throughout the working hours, endeavor to improve, elimination of waste, team-work or cooperation, loyalty to the firm, the trade, or the union, and self-discipline; or, intelligent effort, initiative and foresight, continuous at- tention, spirited exertion, and self-denial. Success in a foreman's job can be simply stated: he is to secure leader- ship by planning ahead, getting the right man on the job, keeping up the organization, fixing responsibility, not try- ing to be "it," looking out for the team; by noting the mental attitude of his men so as to interest them in the job, in the department and the plant; and also noting the attitude as to satisfaction with working conditions, general surroundings, in his effort to get good work done.1 Or, again, we may enumerate qualities of success in the head of the firm: executive ability, good judgment, per- sistence or constancy; high standards of efficiency, system, method, order; and those traits of character which make not only for leadership but for justice, fair dealing, good- will. But the starting-point to-day is the intelligence quotient: find this and then determine what a man can best make of himself within his limits. Successful Qualities.-There is still value in a list of qualities, however, since certain essentials are demanded in any vocation. The list usually runs something like i C. B. Allen, The Foreman and His Job, p. 296. Business Success 353 this: power of attention, promptness, accuracy, steadiness of temper, cheerfulness, courtesy, order and system, hon- esty, faithfulness, foresight, industry. As these are partly matter of habit, it is important to have them early in mind as objectives, in education, in vocational preparation. The insurance companies are concerned to know what a young person's moral record is, as a clue to success. Em- ploying agencies want to know the record in school, as well as matters indicating honesty, sobriety, industry, general character. The four cardinal points of the busi- ness world are said to be: attention, honesty, cheerfulness, accuracy. The first two are paramount. The third is noted as the prime requisite of foremen and salesmen, the fourth that of all bookkeepers and clerical workers. It has been said that every man should have his mon- opoly. "The foundation of success in business, no doubt, is being able to perform some service that nobody else can perform in your circle." This monopoly is to be gained by setting one's self resolutely toward learning something which others do not know, or being able to do something which others can not do; and by looking for the place where others will be inferior to you, all the while endeav- oring to give some service supremely well where it will count most.2 Cody holds that the foundation of the American prin- ciple of service in business is that "like begets like." Serve others and they will feel inclined spontaneously to serve you. Regard others as honest and they will regard you as honest, and treat you honestly. Smile at others and they will smile back. Manners count. Enthusiasm begets enthusiasm-"the greatest thing in salesmanship . . . the secret of leadership." "A calm, judicial attitude begets a judicial attitude." The Small Business.-Writing from the point of view of the practical man of affairs who has worked up from small beginnings to the headship of a million-dollar business, A. C. Burnham has formulated the whole process of ad- 2 Sherwin Cody, How to Deal with Human Nature in Business, 1915, Chap. IV. 354 Vocational and Industrial Psychology vance by means of general principles of success and illus- trative examples.3 To undertake one's own business means: opportunity to carry one's own risks, accept full responsibility, exercise initiative, act on one's own judg- ment; hence an opportunity to learn all the conditions by bearing blame for reverses, facing the facts unflinch- ingly, carrying an enterprise through to the finish. Plan- ning one's life rather far ahead, the prospects are better in starting either as an employee of a small concern or by organizing a small business of one's own and growing with it. In the small enterprise, controlled by one man, or a few men, there is the highest possible incentive; the one- man business makes the greatest variety of demands on a man's capacity. Qualifications.-Four well-defined classes of men are to be considered with reference to the possibility of making good in an independent business: (1) men of exceptional genius for business, who will rise to the top of the biggest business, or build up a big business from small beginnings, no matter where they start or how; (2) men of great capacity for independent enterprises, but of little capacity to rise in big corporations; (3) men of great executive capacity who would rise to high positions in big corpor- ations, but who have little capacity for independent enter- prises; (4) men who do not yearn for advancement, who shun responsibility. There is no known method as yet for segregating the second and third classes except by testing them in the light of experience. If a man belongs to either of these classes, he should try some small inde- pendent enterprise first and as early as possible; and if after five years he has failed he should try a big corpora- tion. His five years of experience will be of advantage to him, whereas five years of failure in big business would have been of no advantage. Many have the desire to stand at the head of their own organization who do not realize it, and means should be taken to discover this desire. Getting a Start.-Mr. Burnham is convinced that in a majority of cases the final success in a small business de- 3 A. C. Burnham, Building Your Own Business, 1923. Business Success 355 pends on getting a good idea and sticking to it continu- ously, enthusiastically, whole-heartedly, determinedly through a period of years. For instance, Colonel Pope saw exhibited at the Centennial in Philadelphia in 1876 a two-wheeled contrivance on which a man might ride; returning to his home in Connecticut, he created a new industry, the manufacture of bicycles. It took McCormick ten years to sell his first reaper, after it was a workable success. Henry Ford induced the Dodge Brothers to put up a few thousand dollars to try out his horseless carriage. If the idea is right there is opportunity for wide expan- sion in time, for instance, in the case of the self-service idea in restaurants. Intelligent observation of opportun- ities for trying out an idea is the great need. Again, a small business may be successfully launched by improving the methods of manufacture of some existing product. What is needed is the ability to grasp the necessity for an improvement, with the knowledge and enterprise to fill the need in a practical manner. The small enterprise in which one begins may not be wholly to one's liking, but it is by no means a foregone conclusion that a man will do best what he likes most to do. What is important is that a man shall on the whole be moving toward the line of work which is allied with his inclinations. The personal element of satisfaction may often be the motive irrespective of the money to be made in a venture. Un- tested and untrained likes and dislikes are very evanescent, while good sound continued effort and concentration in almost any useful work may bring liking for it. Finding the Business.-Study of instances shows that previous training and experience is largely in the major- ity in finding the business. Hence Mr. Burnham groups the possible avenues for finding a business: (1) general investigation in the light of past training and experience, bearing in mind one's natural tastes and inclinations; (2) analyzing a present article for chances of improvement; (3) discovering the need of an unfilled want and supply- ing the need, using the help and cooperation of friends, advertising mediums, and noting possibilities close at 356 Vocational and Industrial Psychology hand. In making an analysis of a business, one should note conditions fundamental to every business, and the conditions which vary with the specific nature of the business under consideration. The Right Attitude.-Among various factors, Mr. Burnham speaks especially of the attitude of mind as highly important, the one to which particular thought should be given. The attitude should be right regarding service to be rendered to the customer, so that there may be all-abiding faith in the article offered. Every employee must be imbued with the spirit essential to the efficiency of the organization. The right attitude may be the strongest means of welding together a wonderful sales force. Successful selling experience becomes the objective, as the most essential experience for success in any business. Vision.-Among other psychological factors, Mr. Burn- ham also emphasizes "visualizing the future." Other motives should prevail besides making money: the desire for independence of action, for freedom from taking orders; the desire to achieve, to build a success for the satisfaction which the accomplishment of the desired result will afford. Hence a man should vividly picture exactly what he wants, creating the thing in imagination; for what can be clearly and definitely conceived, imagined, can be accomplished in fact: one should have an exact and definite picture of the ultimate end and aim to which the whole enterprise should lead. The pinnacle which one proposes to attain should be selected so that one can pic- ture one's self as successful owner, as having present ac- cess to all means to the desired end. The vision ought always to be kept before the mind. The end should be big enough to warrant putting forth every effort, and bright enough to lighten every hardship along the way. "Great men hold fast by their visions. All who have been really great have had this faculty of holding per- sistently to one idea, and often their greatness has been in proportion to their persistency. Guard against the mirages that will at times distort the true outline. The business man should not allow himself to be swerved Business Success 357 from his main path by influences which tend to a diversion of his efforts. More than one promising small enterprise has gone glimmering because the owner had too many irons in the fire. If your business consists in turning out a good product of some kind at a profit and in a reasonably increasing volume, do not be in a hurry to add new lines. If your business is retailing, do not try to open a second store until you have built up your surplus to a point where you can stand the loss if the new venture should prove a failure. Concentrate on one thing, stick to it, and hold to your vision persistently."4 The vision will need to be revised from time to time as a man proceeds. The main thing is to know how to revise it so as to keep setting it forward five or ten years, without essential change; keeping the idea of what one might do several times as large as what one surely expects to do. The truly successful man is never really satisfied with his efforts, he really never ''arrives" in his own estimation, as his vision is always far in advance of what he has been able to accomplish at a given time. The more adaptable a man is, the better; for he can then revise his vision whenever it is necessary to do so, on the alert to take advantage of a new opportunity, with initiative for forward work, and the determination to carry on, whatever the difficulties. Ideals.-This emphasis on a victory-bringing vision in business life coincides with the teaching of those who, studying life in general, have put their practical experi- ence in the form of ideals. An ideal is better than a "suggestion"; for interest centers on the future in the light of favoring objective conditions, rather than on processes going on in the subjective life. The great reason for conceiving an ideal lies in the radical exception one takes to nearly everything in the present, yet one anti- cipates approximation to the ideal through successive changes in the present. The present regarded alone would doubtless suggest a negative attitude. By means of an ideal one has courage to believe and affirm the possibility 4 Building Your Own Business, p. 262, 358 Vocational and Industrial Psychology of achieving the well nigh incredible as in the case of Mr. Cassatt, coming home from Europe with a vision of tunnels under the Hudson and a great railroad station in New York City. Such a vision seems audacious, impos- sible, yet it may be realized in all its surprising magnitude. The principles implied in the work of genius like that are also implied in any enterprise where the ideal element is the prime essential. Granted the vision or ideal, then the other matters-the right attitude toward associates, adap- tation to changing conditions, alertness in seizing oppor- tunities making in the chosen direction-fall into their appropriate places. The initial suggestion, ideal or vision, does not create the result, as some assume. The mind in its deeper recesses has no mysterious power of "attraction" to draw the desired conditions out of the air. There is no substitute for effort, work, persistence, alertness all along the way. But the ideal put before the mind as an objective, a conscious (not a hidden) ob- jective, certainly has a remarkable power through repeated renewals or acts of attention, concentration, persistence in overcoming obstacles, and adaptability in meeting new conditions. Thus an ideal becomes dynamic, has the power to enlist manifold conations, to call potentialities into fullness of expression. Summary.-Our study of success emphasizes a number of matters previously considered under the head of sug- gestion, mental efficiency, vocational guidance, and various mental tests. Suggestion in the form of a vision, ideal, plan or purpose is an essential element. The mind should be affirmative, anticipate success, create it mentally, then hold to it persistently. But discovery of the right vocation or acceptance of an occupation which may lead to the right opportunity is also an essential; since a man wishes to succeed in work for which he is adapted. A man can in a measure compel himself to succeed in any work which his hands find to do, by putting his mind on it and per- sisting; and the power thus acquired may in a measure be transferred to other fields. But many naturally desire to go into business for themselves, to respond to the crea- Business Success 359 five impulse, to invent, plan, execute, try out their abil- ities to best advantage. Success brings satisfaction, freedom, self-expression. It is never solely a question of what the world calls success in material things: success is also mental, moral, spiritual. A man succeeds by making good, overcoming obstacles, developing character. He succeeds by utilizing his creative powers so as to cooper- ate with others in building up bettered conditions, by pro- ducing things worth while. His success is also dependent in part on recognizing limitations, on knowing his type and level of intelligence, his temperament, his best oppor- tunity for the realization of ideals. There are also secrets of success which one learns by studying the biographies of successful men. Matthews, W., Conquering Success, 1903. Puffer, J. A., Vocational Guidance, 1913, Chap. XVI. Cody, S., How to Deal with Human Nature in Business, 1915, Chaps. IV, VII. Burnham, A. C., Building Your Own Business, 1923, Chaps. I-III, X. Dresser, H. W., Human Efficiency, 1912, Chap. IX. REFERENCES CHAPTER XXIII ADVERTISING AND SELLING The art of advertising has been greatly developed since emphasis was put on winning attention, holding in- terest, using words and phrases that stay in the mind, ap- pealing to the will so as to aid decision, arousing the in- stincts and emotions, and appealing to beauty. Intelli- gently used psychological methods, with emphasis on facts, real values, have taken the place of former methods involv- ing extravagant claims, statements which could not be sub- stantiated. Very much now depends on certain appeals to memory and association. It is notable that so much turns upon a name that a clever name like "Uneeda" will be the making of an article; while a change of name may mean commercial failure, as in the case of " Rising Sun Stove Polish," long known by that name and in connection with a certain design, a name which in an unfortunate hour was changed to one which the public did not recognize. Adver- tisements changed with sufficient frequency to maintain interest, drawings and designs introduced amidst familiar wordings and varied in appeal from week to week, and pictures of genuine artistic value have all become familiar to us as emphasis on psychological factors has increased. The four principles usually dwelt on in these connections are: repetition, intensity, association, and ingenuity. Productive' Advertising.-The work of the advertiser has been said to consist in creating a desire on the part of the class or classes for which his object or proposition is intended; and to consider himself a factor in changing our economic system so that all who would be really benefited shall have the opportunity rightly to buy what he has to sell.1 He must consider his environment in careful detail, i H. W. Hess, Productive Advertising, 1915. 360 Advertising and Selling 361 study the crowd, be on the alert to adapt himself to changes, and follow up changes according to developments. Each advertisement should be strong enough to force itself into the consciousness of the observer, by attracting his atten- tion and holding it, appealing to his specific needs, with reference to self-preservation, food, clothing. The adver- tiser should also remember the effort of people to get some- thing for nothing, their interest in hoarding, the prompt- ings which imply curiosity, the constructive instinct, the love of beauty, the strength of parental affection, the love of sex. Again, there is opportunity for imagination in creating a character like '1 Phoebe Snow, ' ' so long connected by means of clever rhymes with the '1 Road of Anthracite, ' ' or a type of drawing to be continued through endless varia- tions and accompanied by rhymes advertising a well-known brand of soup. Attention is undoubtedly the fundamental law of successful advertising, as one knows by reference to advertisements regularly appearing in papers and maga- zines, and so designed that they always command atten- tion, whatever one's interest in the reading matter. After attention comes appeal to memory through association (familiarity, recency, vividness), color, creating a vogue, and the various means of arousing interest by illustrations, suggestions; and the appeal to habit, desire, will. Reasons for Advertising.-F. W. Parsons has recently stated anew the reasons why advertising is so important.2 "Advertising is the only force that can be employed suc- cessfully to counteract the natural hostility of the public toward all radical change or innovation. People did not want the railroad. . . . The first sewing-machine placed on exhibition by Howe was smashed by a mob. "Westinghouse was called a fool by railroad experts, and Murdoch was sneered at because he suggested the use of gas for light . . . ' ' To-day we know better than to try and introduce some- thing new without first creating an understanding of the thing and the demand for it." Advertising was formerly haphazard, now it is organized so that it is the soul of 2 "The Silent Salesman," in The World's Work, 'M.ay, 1923. 362 Vocational and Industrial Psychology business. Advertising definitely molds the habits of a people. It exerts a greater influence on the public mind than most people imagine. Many people can name several brands of cigarettes, tooth paste, or breakfast food who could not possibly tell you the name of the vice-president of the nation. There are great values in trade-marks, for example. Deep understanding of human nature is shown in modern advertising, following the example of P. T. Barnum. Hence the man or woman who would win in advertising must above all else be a psychologist. Essentials.-Parsons quotes one authority as saying that the essentials of good advertising are: (1) imagination; (2) knowledge of human nature; (3) a little more knowl- edge of human nature. A high-grade advertising writer must possess enthusiasm and versatility; he must be able to understand a business possibility, and present it in language that is clear, simple, and forceful. One leader in national publicity work has stated his philosophy of adver- tising to the effect that it is human nature to believe first on instinctive grounds, and only seek for logical reasons or justifications afterward, when the initial belief is chal- lenged. As a consequence the clever advertiser first seduces and persuades the reader with an emotional appeal, then follows with his logical argument. In accordance with this principle, an advertisement must hang together, if it is to be remembered, and it must be pleasing if it is to hold interest. Again, the occupation and sex of people deter- mine their minds and the character of their thoughts. Men agree more closely in their preferences, women agree more in their dislikes. Size catches women more often than men. Pictures catch men, while personal appeals attract women. Furthermore, experiments show that a single mind can attend to only four words or objects at once, four pictures, four letters, or four figures. A four-word line is therefore ideal. The power of attraction depends on the number of counter-attractions. The attention value depends on con- trast. Novel things and sudden things gain attention. The advertiser should not try to move the public mind too suddenly. Advertising and Selling 363 Advertising1 Defined.-There is no sharp line between advertising and publicity. By advertising is meant publicity that is paid for, by which the advertiser offers information to bring about action on the part of the public in favor of his goods. Hence commercial advertising is defined as "the endeavor of an individual or of a group to persuade others, without personal solicitation and by means of a paid medium, to perform some specific act which will re- sult in pecuniary advantage to the individual or group making the endeavor. ' '3 Advertising thus differs from salesmanship, which involves actual personal relationship between buyer and seller. The suggestion to buy comes in an impersonal way. Yet the advertiser should bear the personal equation in mind. He should know his own strong points and his limi- tations, since his mind is the instrument with which he does his work. He must understand by personal experience and observation how to get and hold the attention of the reader; how to arrange an advertisement so it may be easily read; how to make the commodity remembered by those who read the advertisement; under what circum- stances to use "the reason why" copy and the kind of argument which is most likely to appeal; what are the de- sirable emotions to arouse and how to arouse them; and how to bring about the desired action on the part of the reader. Needs.-Taking our clues from what behaviorism teaches us, we note that when any new situation confronts a group some new adjustment or habit is necessary. The activity of our ancestors was largely practical. The group of habits and customs which an individual forms constitute his occupation. The things which he knows about are the things which he can experience. Consciousness has de- veloped in terms of those objects in the environment which are important for satisfying needs. The basic cause for all activity is the satisfying of some need. Hence advertising consists in ways of informing people how they can satisfy their existing needs, or of telling them about needs which have not previously been realized. 3 H. F. Adams, Advertising and its Mental Laws, 1916. 364 Vocational and Industrial Psychology Advertising came into vogue with the specialization of function through competition. It then became necessary to give reasons for obtaining the goods from one individual rather than from some other, with the expectation that the assertion of superiority would bring more trade. Then the opportunity came for advertising to go ahead of the group and implant the feeling of need. Attention Values.-The advertiser must take into ac- count the fact that there is a cumulative effect of impres- sions produced by successive advertisements. The classified advertisement has come into vogue for individuals already interested in the commodity or proposition. The display advertisement is needed to attract attention, the competitive one to sustain attention despite the allurements of other advertisements, while there is always need of educating the public to feel a new need and suggest a remedy for it, also for the argument to keep old buyers. The quality of the advertisement carried in the medium of course affects the value of the medium. Its position on the page has much to do with securing attention. So has appeal through asso- ciation by arousing expectation, in the effort to hold the attention when aroused. Adams emphasizes in this con- nection the left side of the page as the best from the stand- point of attention, the middle next, and the right last. Experiments show that the top of the page has higher attentive value, and that the eye tends to fall first on the upper left-hand corner. The quarter page has the lowest memory value. No advertisement is perceived in terms of itself alone. Each one is influenced by the others. Not all facts or objects have an equal chance of being re- membered under these conditions. The way in which an object is experienced determines the memory of it. These and other facts emphasized by Adams show in what minute detail psychological knowledge may be applied. Old and New Methods of Marketing.-Link compares the old-time traveling salesman to the troubadour, since the salesman also carried an element of romance into his journeyings, spreading a knowledge of the wonderful products of modern industry, coloring his descriptions by Advertising and Selling 365 his own personality.4 The salesman of those days was a kind of ambassador to the trade. "The manufacturer's chief object of worship was that mysterious force called the knack of selling, and the salesmen who possessed this knack were the dominating figures. Their word as to what could and could not be sold was law. Their expense accounts were seldom questioned. They were wined and dined at elaborate banquets prepared annually or semi-annually for their especial entertainment." There was no training or education in the art of salesmanship. The salesmen fre- quently became arrogant and untrustworthy, their terri- tories and customers were often mishandled, and their com- panies given a dubious reputation. The new type of salesmanship is called institutional selling, the term 1 ' institution ' ' being used by Link to desig- nate a business enterprise of distinctive characteristics which '1 manifest themselves to the buying public through a company's methods of marketing and the quality of the product or service. ' ' Much depends on developments in the technique of production and distribution, the training of salesmen by new standards centering about principles for which the institution is known, as in the case of a system of chain stores, with training stores which are models in ar- rangement and operation, and in which the most approved sales methods have been tried out and standardized. Such methods include: '-'(1) a product or service of known quality and, preferably, of known price; (2) a distinctive method of marketing; (3) a distinctive sales literature, i.e., trademark, advertising, catalogues, etc.; (4) a stable and consistent policy covering every contact point with con- sumer (or with dealer or both), and the mechanism to carry this policy into effect. ' '5 The distribution and sell- ing of electrical appliances, cash registers, automobiles, tires, sewing-machines represent a more complicated in- stance of institutional marketing. Institutions developing widely used products in this way are in a position to train their salesmen in all the institutional characteristics. They do not rely on general, stereotyped courses involving vague ■* Education and Industry, 1923, p. 294. 5 Op. cit., p. 228. 366 Vocational and Industrial Psychology psychological principles, but teach the art, science, or knack of selling the special products in question according to precise principles. The institutional salesman is one who is so well equipped with the details of his company's marketing methods that he is enabled to use his individual resourcefulness and originality to the best possible advan- tage, both for himself and for the institution which he rep- resents. It was claimed by the old school of salesmanship that the best way to train a salesman in marketing his company's product was to put him in the field and let him work out his own method, a kind of ' ' sink or swim, survive or perish ' ' procedure involving rugged merits but also great wasteful- ness. The new method calls for a distinctive, definite, and comprehensive marketing policy from the start, and the preliminary work is accomplished in classes covering such topics as the company's advertising, both national and local; the nature of the contract between the company and its dealers; the details of the guarantees behind its products; the service which will accompany the product; how to arrange window displays and the other display ma- terial furnished by the company; and other matters per- taining to the marketing policy as developed by the central sales department. Arousing Reactions.-Some of the recent writers on marketing particularly emphasize the importance of mak- ing a study of the instincts in relation to the needs and wants of the consumer. For example, there are appeals to the appetites (hunger, tastefulness, sensual enjoyment) ; comfort (calmness, rest fulness, relaxation, ease) ; sex (passion, lust, love, coquetry) ; play (merriment, sport, joy, humor) ; acquisitiveness (propinquity, selfishness, stinginess) ; sociability (lonesomeness, hospitality) ; compe- tition (emulation, jealousy, ambition) ; ornamentation (beauty, display, pride in appearance). It no longer suffices to have merely general knowledge of human nature, turn- ing on vague impressions; what is called for is specific acquaintance with various incentives and promptings to action, with methods of arousing the appropriate reactions Advertising and Selling 367 in the given case, according to the line of goods, the par- ticular environment. Marketing.-As defined by Duncan, marketing is put in relation with commercial organization, in contrast with business organization and industrial organization. It in- volves the mechanism and devices in modern industrial society for the actual transfer of economic goods from one party to another, on their way from origin to consumption, that is, merchandizing, buying, and selling.6 Commercial organization stands between the goods and the market. The problems both of demand and of supply are com- mercial problems, problems of human contact, "shot through and through with psychological problems. ' ' These include knowledge of functions and institutions, the dis- tributive mechanism in all its branches, commodity analysis, and many other allied matters. "It is a complex, intricate, closely related mechanism that is to be studied, and no single phase can be wholly isolated from its setting and analyzed as a thing apart. Commodities are drawn to market by the force of human wants, and on their way the original materials are modified in response to the require- ments." There is need of analysis of the commodity as adapted to satisfy human wants, the new or established commodity, the luxury, the staple article or novelty, the perishable, semi-perishable or non-perishable; together with knowledge of the supply and its control, the means of pro- duction, the charting of quantity and value. Then follows analysis of the market, trade organization, a study of the middleman, transportation, organized exchanges, the ware- house, commercial grading of commodities, trade informa- tion, and an analysis of the phenomena of market prices. Of special interest, psychologically speaking, is the ques- tion of sympathetic prices, which Duncan describes as the sensitive point in marketing for the great mass of people. There are subtle and intangible forces at work upon the market-place, with its sympathetic fluctuations. Neverthe- less it appears reasonable that prices should rise and fall as a result of the change in relationship of supply and de- 6 C. S. Duncan, Marketing, 1920, p. 1. 368 Vocational and Industrial Psychology mand. For example, bread prices rise because the price of wheat has risen, on account of a shortage in supply. But why should brooms suddenly leap up 35 or 40 cents? Why should cocoa or bananas rise? Sympathetic price changes are psychological. Shortages are talked about everywhere until things are expected to be higher in price.7 Again, in the sales organization the human element very largely predominates, in the task of selecting men to go out and represent the business to the world, within the sales force itself. Duncan holds that it is largely a matter of temperament throughout. Salesmen are more "tempera- mental" than mechanics or clerks. This fact complicates the selection. The salesmanager, who has the policy of the house to carry out through the advertising department, an internal sales force, and a traveling sales force, has the problem of coordinating the selling forces by means of a personnel department, involving the selecting, training, educating, and dismissing of the sales force. It is the personnel department which especially distinguishes new from old methods of marketing, the selecting, training, and educating of new men having become a profession by itself. In this department, there is need not only of mental tests, but it is still in part a question of methods calling for con- sideration of manners, personal appearance, good breeding, neatness and attractiveness of dress, as well as a matter of previous training and experience. In connection with this instruction, sales talks are still sometimes used, but Duncan holds that it is better to teach the salesman how to meet the situations, how to use the information he possesses under all circumstances. He is of the opinion that "human con- tact can not be standarized. " "Independent thinking, in- dependence of action, honesty and integrity of character, and thorough knowledge of the merchandise, are much more important than any standard sales talk. ' '8 In this systematic process of marketing, it is the function of the advertising manager to adjust the goods to the market which he has to reach. The first requirement is that he shall "know how to sell," that he shall have the r Op. cit., Chap. XI. 8 Ibid., p. 411. Advertising and Selling 369 salesman's knowledge carried over into advertising. The general requirement is that he shall have ' ' business imagina- tion ... a vision of the program which he is to carry out in its relation to the public," and adequate knowledge of the facts of business and its internal problems. This in- volves the principle that salesmanship should be done worthily, the so-called tricks of the trade being entirely eliminated. The customer is not to be tricked into buying more than he wants, what he does not want, or one article when he asked for another. The customer is less able now- adays to judge for himself. "He pays the price asked, and learns of the quality only when he has used the commodity. Obviously the true standard of salesmanship is to have honest goods honestly sold." 9 Creative Selling.-Mackintosh holds that every one needs to know how to sell-thoughts if not things-and that leadership depends on conscious application of the principles of selling, as the best possible preparation for success: selling is applied common sense; it demands no "hypnotic" personality, no special cleverness, trickiness or '1 slickness. ' '10 The beginning is in making others think, hence clear-cut thought definitely directed at some direct action is the great requisite. This must precede effective talking. To think effectively one needs to note the im- portance of attention; concentration as a habit; careful organization of thought; the power of visualizing ideas so they may be painted in words: we must know what we know when we need our knowledge, and possess the power to express it so that it will become of equal value in the minds of others. There are seven keys to successful selling: knowledge of the subject, of the object, the prospect; making it easy to pay attention, easy to understand, easy to believe, and easy to act. Success in selling depends upon service to the customer, built into the goods, expressed in the advertising, the guiding principle of wholesaler, jobber, retailer: service to the customer must be the life-work of sales people behind counters. Every link in the chain must be welded with the 9 Ibid., p. 420. 10 C. H. Mackintosh, Creative Selling, 1923. 370 Vocational and Industrial Psychology spirit of service. Selling, in brief, is simply leading an- other to think and act in accordance with our wishes. Since we think as we are, we should enlarge our sympathies and interests in clean and beautiful things, and to facts expressed in terms of them. Action is the end of every successful sales message. Personality as a Factor.-The power of personality is said to lie at the foundation of salesmanship. It was said of a man very prominent in public life that he is coura- geous, diplomatic, aggressive, honest, kind, enthusiastic, and that he possesses an unconquerable will. These might be regarded as the qualities of the successful salesman. But stress is placed nowadays on knowing the human nature and situation of customers, and their types; knowing the goods to be sold, the competition to be met with; and the psychological conditions of the sale. If the first task is catching the attention, the second holding it, and the third and fourth fixing the impression and provoking the re- sponse, it is clear that much depends on one's knowledge of the laws of attention and the resulting behavior. Commenting on Vardaman's definition of salesmanship as "the ability to influence and persuade people," Brisco adds that although a salesman possessing this ability is one who can sell goods at a profit, salesmanship in its true mean- ing is more than selling goods at a profit: it implies mutual benefit to seller and buyer.11 For a sale is not complete without satisfaction to the customer, and satisfaction should continue till the goods have completed their period of use- fulness. There are salesmen who simply fill orders or -wait on customers, who perform their work like machines, who have no suggestions to make and no advice to give, and do not give a thought to the question of satisfaction. But the question of salesmanship comes in the case of those who take real interest in their customers, so as to make them satisfied with the services rendered. This can be done when a salesman believes firmly in the goods, and that their customers will profit by possessing these goods. Hence their work is founded throughout on knowledge of the way 11 N. A. Brisco, Fundamentals of Salesmanship, 1916, p. 16. Advertising and Selling 371 to take every step with the customer and why it should be done; for example, the essential points for arousing interest, the best selling points about the goods, and the passing of the critical point in the sale: the conversion of desire for an article into a sale. Persuasion and Conviction.-Brisco puts special empha- sis on conviction, which depends for its effectiveness upon reason as the guiding power, while emotion is the moving power. The first object is to convince customers that certain facts about the goods are true. The arguments employed should be twofold: they must contain an appeal to the intellect, and an appeal to the will. The arguments should be convincing singly, and so grouped that they will be cumulative. Hence the salesman must (1) find out what he wishes to establish; (2) gather the materials needed for the proofs; (3) arrange these materials in the most effective manner; (4) present these data in good form. Then will come persuasion, the effort to make customers believe and act as the salesman desires, by appeal to the will, aroused by appeal to the emotions. It is necessary then to know what emotions to appeal to, and how to make the appeal. Brisco finds the qualities in a salesman most effective in making this two-fold appeal to be: sincerity, simplicity, modesty, self-control, and sympathy. As emotions vary, the appeal should be made to those that are dominant in the customers. No two sales will therefore be made in precisely the same way. The Sale.-Six steps are to be noted, in Brisco's analy- sis: (1) the introduction or approach, in which the cus- tomer is sized up; (2) attracting attention to the goods; (3) arousing interest in the goods (interest differs from attention, and involves an emotional element, looking for- ward to action) ; (4) the intensifying of interest, which is to be converted into desire to possess; (5) the conversion of the desire to possess into decision to possess; (6) the conversion of this decision into actual possession or sale, the resolve to act, that is, the critical point where a mistake might mean talking the buyer out of the desire to possess. Knowledge of how to take these steps includes the appeal 372 Vocational and Industrial Psychology to self-interest, the appeal of profit, of greater convenience, pleasure and comfort, becomingness, and the appeal of style. It also includes knowledge of human types: the motive type, the vital type, and the mental type; acquain- tance with faces, eyes, eyebrows, foreheads, wrinkles, noses, and other signs, notably laughter. The Customer.-Since the crucial consideration is the satisfying of the customer, the customer can not be regarded with indifference if a sale is to be made, despite the notion that it really remains wholly with the customer whether or not a sale is made. The customer should therefore be treated as a guest, with reference to the classes of service rendered, comfort, the delivery of goods, accuracy in sales slips, care in sending the goods purchased, and other essen- tials subsequent to the salesman's part in the whole process. Customers are of two types, actual and prospective, and the salesman must know when to make suggestions. Some are lookers only, but every customer must look before he buys, and the looker is an important factor in business building. Hence there must be impartiality in the treat- ment of customers, there being no excuse for giving offense. In analyzing the mind of the buyer, Kitson emphasizes the fact that the mind is a stream, it never stands still, is ever complex; hence the art of selling calls for adaptation to successive phases of the process. In all forms of selling there are certain stages leading up to the act of purchase: attention, interest, desire, confidence, decision and action, and satisfaction.12 Kitson's Summary of the Steps.-In trying to secure the attention of the buyer, the salesman must remember that the buyer's mental stream is flowing along, charged with thoughts relating to his personal affairs. The com- modity must be thrust into the midst of this stream. There- fore the mind should be prepared beforehand. The buyer's mind is sensitive, for example to strong stimuli, to bright lights, loud noises, strong odors; it is influenced by big- ness, by change, movement, simulated or suggested move- ment, color; and by repetition, which in turn wins atten- 12 H. D. Kitson, The Mind of the Buyer, 1921. Advertising and Selling 373 tion, influences memory and the unconscious remembering of a commodity. Trying to sell to the collective buyer, one notes that each public is unique, for instance, the public appealed to by The Country Gentleman in contrast with The Fireside Companion; the labor vote, the "wet ele- ment," the low-brows, the high-brows. In passing to the second stage (interest), effort will be made to create interest in the commodity by giving infor- mation about it, arousing activity toward it, appealing to the imagination by the law of association and empathy (the process of humanizing objects, of reading or feeling ourselves into others). The third stage, desire, is an out- growth of interest; confidence and good-will follow, thence the process is carried on to decision and action by delineat- ing the problem of the buyer with exceeding sharpness, holding strictly to the point, and appealing to instinctive factors: the hereditary equipment for action in the mind of the buyer. Suggestion in the sale is seen in the process of concentrating the attention on the main idea, the con- ditions being arranged so as to permit the suggested idea to flow easily into action. The use of suggestion in this way is seen in the case of current advertising phrases such as, "Ask for Cocoa Cola by its full name," "Ask the man who owns one, " " Eventually, why not now ? ' ' The implication is that the buyer will be satisfied. The sale is not complete till this psychological moment is attained. The Customer's Mental State.-In his careful analysis of retail selling in department stores, Charters bases his study on the difficulties of salesmanship and the methods used in overcoming these.13 He insists that salespeople are not employed primarily to make money for the firm, or even to earn their own living; but to see that the sale is made in a manner most satisfactory to the customer. Since the customer is the chief factor, the question will be asked: What is the customer thinking about? For what purpose does he come into the store? How does he make sure that what he gets will be satisfactory? How can the salesman help him do these things effectively? 13 W. W. Charters, How to Sell at Retail, 1922. 374 Vocational and Industrial Psychology Sometimes the customer knows exactly what he wants, at other times he is hazy and indefinite; again, his need may not come into existence till he enters the store. As the need or want changes, the salesperson should follow the mind during the sale, proceeding differently with different cus- tomers, the objective being a certain value for the least money. There are five standards of judgment to bear in mind: durability, comfort, fashion, beauty, quality; and the salesman, sizing up the customer, tries to discover which is the most important in a given case. The steps are these: the customer tries to get a clear idea of what he wants, looks at many articles which might satisfy, studies these in the light of standards, selects the one which seems to meet them best, sizes up his purchase by experiencing satis- faction or dissatisfaction. Some buyers are slow, others very quick, some careless, others cautious; many have re- gard only for price; there is a very large place for clear thinking, fostered by efforts of the salesman to make an artistic job of the sale. Showing the goods, explaining the facts, stating his own opinion w'here his judgment is re- quested, the salesman avoids misrepresentation, and feeling at his ease, tries to make a pleasant sale. Good-will and Efficiency.-Much emphasis is placed on the sale free from irritation. ' ' If people are bothered, they make hasty decisions. If they are happy, they are likely to be much better satisfied with whatever they decide to do." Hence the value of a pleasant atmosphere, even if the customer is irritable, and difficult to handle. The con- fidence of the customer is obtained by the good-will of the salesperson, expert knowledge, sincerity, enthusiasm in showing goods, personal appearance, confidence of the sales- man in himself. The efficiency of the sale involves satisfy- ing the customer as completely as possible in as short a time as possible by knowing the location of the goods, by having information at tongue's end, by speedy action, and business-like quick speech. Sizing up the Customer.-Charters suggests that in noting characteristics, habits, and prejudices of customers, the implication is that there are qualities rather than fixed Advertising and Selling 375 types.14 For example, the decided customer is not always decided, the undecided is not one who never knows what he wants, the irritable is not always so, no one is always shy or silent, tired, talkative, ill at east or entirely self-confident. The sales people say that people can not be put into types. "Every one is a little different from every other one." The same qualities are in different people. Crossness may not be chronic. A person cross just now should not be re- garded as of the cross type. In sizing up the customer, watching, listening, thinking, the salesman notices the carriage, clothes, expression, con- versation, actions; for example, the decided customer who carries herself and walks with energy and self-possession, the man who has the word "pep" written all over him, the onlooker who just saunters around, the nervous customer, the undecided one who shows her indecision by her facial expression and who needs plenty of suggestions about styles. Other buyers are classifiable by their friendli- ness, good-breeding, bargain-hunting, stinginess, exacting tastes, moderate means, showiness, vanity, grouchiness, suspiciousness. Failures in sizing up and handling cus- tomers are due to indifference, dullness, laziness, cut-and- dried methods, unpleasantness, the assumption that certain signs (painted faces, tailor-made suits, bearing, face) al- ways mean certain things. The wise salesperson is always learning from experience and changing rules. A customer might be called "picky," fussy, hard to suit, who is really very careful in buying; the one called a "know-it-all" may be really expert; the so-called snobbish, superior or 11 catty ' ' one may be in reality silent or reserved. In any case courtesy, promptness, adaptation to the manner of the customer is called for, a pleasant greeting, judgment used in greetings, showing good humor when the customer does not buy. Meeting Objections.-Brisco dwells on the fact that it is human nature to raise objections of some kind in the course of buying. The salesman must know how to meet 14 Op. cit., Chap. II. 376 Vocational and Industrial Psychology these or sales will be lost. Some buyers raise objections merely because it is their nature to find fault and to argue; their objections are not to be taken seriously, and are usually purely imaginary. Serious objections turn on ques- tions of quality, price, style, color, size, and value. To know how to meet these the salesman must read the customer, and select the argument which will meet the person in ques- tion. The salesman must frankly admit the excellent quali- ties in a competitor's goods, but then bring out forcibly the arguments which clearly show superior qualities in his own goods. Questions concerning quality may frequently be anticipated and avoided by the right suggestions. Ob- jections to prices belong under three heads: (1) those who are not meant by the customers from the point of view of value, the prices being higher than they can afford to pay; (2) those made merely for the sake of argument; (3) those made with all sincerity. If the goods are too expensive, the salesman must judge what the customer is able and willing to pay. Questions pertaining to quality must there- fore be distinguished from questions pertaining to price. Insincere objections about prices must be met with courtesy and seriousness. Suggestion should be used so that the buyer will believe he is purchasing on his own independent choice. All objections should be met squarely. Thorough knowledge of goods, the ability to read human nature, the power to choose proper arguments and present them in the most convincing manner, the ability to use suggestion dis- cretely, and the use of tact-these are the essentials in meet- ing objections. Suggestion as a Factor.-Brisco adopts the definition of suggestion which regards it as an idea intruded into the mind with such skill and power that it dominates and for the moment disarms, or excludes, all ideas which might pre- vent its realization. The objective is appropriate action through the arousal of a conviction unopposed by any con- trary idea, accepted and acted upon without any tendency to deliberate. It is possible to make a sale by suggesting a purchase at the psychological moment, in contrast with sales which result after careful deliberation, although sug- Advertising and Selling 377 gestion is a factor in carrying the customer through the successive steps leading eventually to purchase and satis- faction. The professional buyer knows what he wants, and will deliberate; but the general public is moved more by suggestion than by argument. Many customers do not wish to deliberate, and rely upon salespeople to decide for them; in these cases, suggestion is an important factor. Inasmuch as people are accustomed to responding to suggestion from childhood, suggestion may be regarded as normal, a healthy indispensable part of life. Women are more suggestible than men, and suggestion can be used with greater force with them. The salesman's art consists in keeping the customer's mind focused on the goods, thoughts about other goods which may lead to comparisons should not be allowed to enter the mind of a customer. "If a customer mentions a competitor's goods, the salesman should adroitly bring the customer's mind back to his goods." 15 A customer who believed a salesman was trying to out- wit his mind, lest he should mention another merchant's goods, raise an objection, or permit his mind to wander from a certain line of goods, would be as likely to leave that store and never return again as those buyers, cited by Brisco and others, who leave when treated discourteously. Brisco takes it to be "a valuable asset to be able to use sug- gestions in such a way as to make customers see goods as they are seen by the salesperson, and yet have the customers believe that the deciding is done by them independently and without any assistance. Customers . . . should feel that they are making the only natural selection under the cir- cumstances, and are doing voluntarily what in reality they are doing from the suggestions of the salespersons." But Brisco advises the salesman to analyze himself carefully to see if the proper use is made of suggestion; frankness, open- ness, and confidence cast aside suspicion and increase the power of suggestion. Furthermore, the use of negative sug- gestions should be avoided; for instance, the salesman should not ask, ''Is that all ?" after he has made a sale; but "What else ? ' ' is Op. cit., p. 207. 378 Vocational and Industrial Psychology We have seen that all hetero-suggestion is really auto- suggestion. No buyer accepts a salesperson's suggestion without reacting upon it, unwittingly. If the buyer is lazy, indecisive, in a state where the mind is easily swayed; and if women are more suggestible than men, particularly in regard to style-these are facts for the buyer to face. As customers become more enlightened in regard to sugges- tion, it will be necessary for salesmen to depend more fre- quently upon sheer matter-of-fact statements and reason. Some shoppers are to-day forestalling all possibility of influence on the part of salespeople by making intelli- gent inquiries and decisions in advance. College trained people have been employed by department stores in some of our big cities, to make shopping expeditions to various stores, and report their adventures when shopping according to an intelligent plan. The element of suggestion can be eliminated in this way. The intelligent shopper is on the alert to avoid any appeal to the emotions. The woman who can control her emotions is able to substitute reason where hetero-suggestion might enter. Sales Management.-The decisive factor, is, however, not the salesperson, according to Brisco, but the manage- ment, which puts goods upon the market that can be de- pended upon, in quality, in the best value for the price. The manager must know his salespeople so that he can deal with them as they are, and so that all may work together for a common purpose. Salespeople should not only be given a square deal, proper treatment, and a just reward; but should have a voice in devising methods for increasing sales, as integral parts of the business. The best results can not be attained unless salespersons become interested and enthusiastic in their work, so that they work with their whole hearts for the success and welfare of the business. The sales manager must see that this attitude is main- tained. ''Salespersons should be made to feel that they have a stake in the success of the business, and that the manager is interested in their welfare. Then they will feel that they are a part of the business, not like cogs in one large wheel. Each will work for the other's welfare, and Advertising and Selling 379 all for greater selling efficiency, more sales, and the suc- cess of the business enterprise. ' '16 Fundamentals.-Loyalty to the business developing from loyalty to superiors is an essential, also sympathy, which results if a manager knows that his efforts are ap- preciated. The manager avoids the older way of dealing with salespeople, by driving them, and learns to lead them instead. He works for permanence in the force, for promo- tion from the ranks; is on the alert for tardiness and in- efficiency; finds the best methods for disciplining. More training is required to-day to meet the demands for efficient selling: skilled and efficient persons are not born, but made by training. It is still a problem how to pro- duce the most efficient salesperson with the least economic waste. The all-round salesman is being displaced by the more or less specialized, since the concentration of psycho- physical effort upon a narrow field of selling activity in- creases selling efficiency. Consequently, salespersons must be chosen according to their ability to sell a certain line of goods. The salesperson is not likely to have the inclina- tion or ability to develop unaided into the best type of specialized salesman. The day of learning by observation is passed. The manager must train according to the funda- mental principles of selling. Much depends on the careful selection of apprentices and the course of training adopted. An intelligence test is necessary, also knowledge of char- acter, and the endeavor to discover an apprentice's adapta- bility to selling. Brisco concludes that the ability which makes one person more efficient in selling than another is "not acquired by training and experience alone, but is partly transmitted by nature."17 The great need is for the discovery of aptitudes. Hess, H. W., Productive Advertising, 1915. Adams, H. F., Advertising and its Mental Laws, 1916. Link, H. C., Education and Industry, 1923, Chap. XIV. Scott, W. D., The Psychology of Advertising, 1910. is Ibid., p. 233. it Ibid., p. 308. REFERENCES 380 Vocational and Industrial Psychology Hollingworth, H. L., Advertising and Selling, 1913 (bib- liography). Duncan, C. S., Marketing: Its Problems and Methods, 1920, Chaps. I-III. Magee, J. D., Introduction to Economic Problems, 1922, Chap. III. Mackintosh, C. H., Creative Selling, 1923. Brisco, N. A., Fundamentals of Salesmanship, 1916, Chaps. I-V, XV, XVI, XIX. Kitson, H. D., The Mind of the Buyer, 1921. Charters, W. W., How to Sell at Retail, 1922. Maxwell, W., Salesmanship, 1914. Part Four SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY CHAPTER XXIV THE SOCIAL POINT OF VIEW Psychology has long been making ready to become the basis of the social sciences. From its development in the direction of physiology and evolution it has acquired a firmer basis in its natural environment, so that the mind's processes are now habitually described as interactions with environment, with constant references to biology. From actual analysis of consciousness psychology has tended to give more recognition to the self as social, hence to make more explicit the dependence of the individual on society. Thus Royce made it clear that "all our more sig- nificant activities and states of consciousness occur under social conditions, are responses to socially significant stimuli and lead to the organization of a socially effective personality. ' '1 Other writers have shown that psychology underlies ethics, economics, political science, the philosophy of history, sociology, cultural anthropology, the science of religion, the science of law, education, art. Ross's Social Psychology appeared in 1908. McDougall's widely influ- ential Introduction to Social Psychology showed the need once for all of a sound psychology as the basis of the social sciences. In recent years psychology and sociology have been brought into ever closer relations. Idealistic philosophy had so emphasized the inner life i J. Royce, Outlines of Psychology, 1903, p. 231. 381 382 Social Psychology that it seemed difficult if not impossible for the individual to get outside of his own mind, to prove that anything else is real. Vestiges of this subjective analysis still linger in popular thought. The mind is uncritically regarded as locked up somewhere within the organism, as an entity apart, with feelings, thoughts, and volitions in relative isolation from the world. But on inquiry the mind proves to be neither separate from the sources of its experience nor independent of other minds. The separate mind or individual is an abstraction, as surely as society itself when regarded apart from individuals. The real basis for study either of the individual or society is human ex- perience regarded in its various aspects and analyzed into its elements. Definition.-Social psychology is defined by Bogardus as "the study of the interactions of personalities in groups. It begins with the interpretation of the human mind in action, in knowledge of functional psychology. ' '2 Ross points out that '1 the immediate causes of social phenomena are to be sought in human minds," that is, in motives rather than in cosmic energy, in human volitions rather than in race and locality; more specifically, in human wants, since our instincts are the original social forces.3 Graham Wallas holds that "The science of social psy- chology aims at discovering and arranging the knowledge which will enable us to forecast, and therefore to influence, the conduct of large numbers of human beings organized in societies. It is accordingly mainly concerned with the type, and treats individual variations from it rather as instances of a general tendency to vary than as isolated facts. ' ' It endeavors to connect social events with antecedent causes, that is, dispositions, such as the dis- position to fall in love, to feel hunger or curiosity. And so it refers back to human nature as the sum total of human dispositions, the inherited dispositions which are modified by experience.4 2 E. S. Bogardus, Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, Chap. I. 3 E. A. Ross, Principles of Sociology, 1921, Part II. * The Great Society, 1914. The Social Point of View 383 Ellwood, whose books establish intimate relationship be- tween social psychology and sociology, finds the explana- tion of social phenomena in (1) the underlying traits and dispositions of the individual; (2) the influences of the environment which act upon his plastic nature; (3) the resultant aims and standards which he develops. He re- acts against a merely objective point of view because (1) society is essentially an inter-subjective relation: there is no society unless there is relationship between minds, social life is essentially psychic; (2) man lives in an ideational rather than a perceptual world. "The socio-psychic process which we call human culture, or 'the social mind,' and which has been in process of gradual formation for thousands of years, has become so important in the social life of civilized man that an attempt to interpret that life in terms of a sheer objectivism would be sheer nonsense." And (3) a purely objective statement would deny the im- portance, in the social life, of centrally initiated psycho- neural processes in the individual.5 Sociology.-Sociology, as the theory of the social life as a whole, is concerned with the origin, development, structure and function of the reciprocal relations of in- dividuals ; it is clear then that social life can not be known apart from its whole evolution and organization in which no element is studied as a thing apart.6 This evolution began long prior to mere cultural evolution. Sociology is closely dependent on biology. There is no complex evo- lution of group life till mind appears. Hence our inves- tigation begins with a study of mental evolution, and psychology as the science of our complete mental life is the indispensable basis for the study of social life. We can not think of society in any intelligible sense of the word without reference to conscious activities, mental attitudes, ideas, feelings, beliefs, interests, desires, values, customs, usages, traditional standards. The psychic ele- ment is the constituent principle of social life in the sense of interdependence of function, intermental life in a group 5 C. A. Ellwood, Introd, to Social Psychology, 1937, pref. »Ibid., Chap. I. 384 Social Psychology of individuals. Society is "any group of individuals who carry on a common life by means of mental interaction," and social evolution is "an evolution of co-adaptive activ- ities in a group of relatively independent individuals." In criticism of those who, like the behaviorists, assume that scientific method consists wholly in tracing the se- quences of mechanical causation, thus excluding conscious- ness altogether from the domain of science, Ellwood shows conclusively that science as such does not accept one prin- ciple alone as universal principle of explanation. The method of science is to accept a principle as far as it will work, then make use of another principle of explanation. The mechanistic principle has been demonstrated for the physical sciences, but the case is very different in the mental and social sciences. We can not understand "value" apart from consciousness. Mere "mass interpre- tation" of social groups is insufficient. The existences and sequences which the objective school of sociologists pro- pose to study without reference to mental laws are them- selves psychical facts. Mass phenomena are psychological. Economics.-In an acute study of economic motives, Dickinson has undertaken to establish economics on a more secure psychological basis.7 He finds that the well-known starting-point, namely, in human nature and human wants is amply provided for by behavioristic psychology. A study of such psychology leads to emphasis on the mechan- isms of instinct, appetite. Dickinson holds that recent in- vestigations of habit and instinct tend to confirm, much more than James and McDougall would have us believe, the old common-sense hedonistic assumption that people usually act for the sake of expected consequences, and that they are constantly learning more and more economic means of getting whatever objects are pleasing to them. Now a "want" always involves a response-mechanism of sense-organs, nerves and muscles, set up ready to do a definite piece of work when stimulated. There is indeed "usually" a subjective side, which we call "consciousness." t Z. C. Dickinson, Economic Motives, 1922. The Social Point of View 385 Hence the physiological, objective behavior-series alone is not a complete series. Nevertheless Dickinson proposes to use the objective terminology rather than the concepts of sensation or the stream of consciousness. With Freud, he holds that man's response to motives is unconscious, the subjective side of motives being incomplete. But this is essentially the program of all generations of economists; for they have always drawn their premises as to human motives from what they saw men doing in the mass, much more than from the facts of their own solitary introspection. The economist is then a behaviorist: "actions speak louder than words." It is, therefore, a question of the evolution of wants, with reference, for example, to custom, work, the creative impulse. The objection to this view, which would tend to establish economics rather than social psychology as fundamental, is that it narrows the psychological field to behaviorism, and fails to yield an adequate view of "the Great So- ciety." The argument of Graham Wallas may be regarded as conclusive that no one of the various motives which have been proposed as the basic conception of society has proved sufficient. The question of "wants" is not so simple as it appears. Moreover, Dickinson fails to take into account the searching and conclusive criticism to which hedonism has been subjected by ethical philosophers, as well as by social psychologists. It is no longer a defen- sible position, to maintain that the desire for pleasure and the aversion to pain are the only motives of human activ- ity. Ethical philosophers who have tried to sustain this proposition have been hard put to it indeed to account for the fact that pleasure-loving individuals have become organized in society where, plainly, complex motives, ego- istic and altruistic, prevail. The central question is, How does it happen, if hedonism be true, that men moved by love of pleasure ever come to act as they ought, according to rational and moral standards? McDougall has shown that the political economy founded on the hedonistic as- sumption belongs with the old-time psychology, before the days of adequate recognition of the instincts, the irra- 386 Social Psychology tional elements of the human mind.8 Nevertheless we may give full recognition to economic motives (wants) side by side with others which, taken as a whole, actually yield "the Great Society" which we know. Unconscious Motives.-The statement that our motives are mostly "unconscious" does not carry us very far. It has frequently been pointed out that our motives are unconscious in the sense of unawareness of the circum- stances under which we acquired them, the emotional drives or impulses which reinforced them. But we are making headway all the while in explaining them, as psy- chology advances in the analysis of our total nature. Many of our acts of to-day result from the delayed reactions of yesterday, the wishes which were not fulfilled. Thus a wish has been defined as "an emotionally facilitated tend- ency toward a consummatory response whose consumma- tion is delayed. "9 It is delayed, for example, by an in- hibiting action due to antagonistic mechanisms, by absence of the situation necessary for carrying out an act, by a postponement which arouses emotional reinforcement. To account for our delayed actions, it is necessary to recon- stitute the whole social situation amidst which our motives arise, with their relationship to the social order in which we live, the prohibitions which limit our conduct, the repressions which find later expression. Recent studies in the psychological origin of society tend to emphasize this complexity of motives. Thus Platt calls emphatic attention to the rich series of inter-relation- ships between the individual and society.10 Man can not be known unless we know the society in which he lives, society can not be known unless we know the man who made it; society and the individual are two sides of the same problem. "The individual composes and makes society, but society colors all that the individual does." The strongest tendencies in man antedate civilization. 8 Social Psychology, 14th ed., p. 10. 9 Smith and Guthrie, General Psychology in Terms of Behavior, 1921, p. 203. 19 C. Platt, The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, Chap. I. The Social Point of View 387 Man is still compelled to play a part in a life to which he is by no means completely adapted. But Platt departs from the psychical point of view in a measure by attribut- ing the conditions in man which bind him to his past to the persistence of paths in the brain, to nerve and brain- patterns which are ' ' the determinants of all that we think and do." The old picture-patterns of memory are power- ful forces guiding our every action and directing our re- sponses. Our only resource is to control society through education, overcoming the "patterns of aristocracy," and the pictures which a system of government forms for it- self in the minds of its citizens. Habit and Character.-In a recent acute analysis of habit Dewey emphasizes the union between habit, desire, and propulsive power. A bad habit has an urgent, inher- ent tendency to action or command over us which overrides formal resolutions or conscious decisions, e.g., in the case of a habit of gambling, foolish idling, addiction to drugs. This is because habit is so intimately a part of ourselves. Habits are more parts of ourselves than are our vague, general choices: they are 44demands for certain kinds of activity" which constitute the self, the will. They not only form our effective desires but furnish our working capacities, rule our thoughts, determining which shall appear and be strong. They have energetic and dominat- ing ways of acting. In fact, character itself is "the inter- penetration of habits. "11 A weak, unstable, vacillating character is one in which different habits alternate with one another rather than embody one another. Ideas and Habits.-We have wrongly assumed that the means or effective conditions for the realization of a pur- pose exist independently of established habit, and even that they may be set in motion in opposition to habit. But it is not a question of fiats of will, or of the direct action of thought and desire. Our ideas themselves are formed by habits. An idea gets shape and consistency only when it has a habit back of it. There are no "pure unmixed thoughts," there is no reason "pure of all in- ii Human Nature and Conduct, 1922, Chap. II. 388 Social Psychology fluence" from prior habit. "The medium of habit filters all the material that reaches our perception and thought," and the filter is not chemically pure. "It is a reagent which adds new qualities and rearranges what it has re- ceived." It is indeed true that our ideas depend upon experience, but the experience is due to the operation of habits, originally of instincts. An idea can be carried into execution only with a mech- anism already at hand, if this is defective or perverted, the best intention in the world will yield bad results. We can not fall back on "psychical mechanisms" different in kind from those of bodily operations, and independent of them. The "means within our power" is always a habit. Character is possible because of the unification or system of habits. Repetition is not the essence of the process, but an acquired predisposition to ways or modes of response, with the implied causal efficacy. The outworking of habits in any case is subject to contingencies which are unfore- seeable and which carry an act one side of its usual effect. Habit is describable therefore as a tendency: the probable effect of the habit in the long run. The real conflict is not between reason and habit but between unintelligible habit (routine), and intelligible habit or art. "Habits once formed perpetuate themselves, by acting unremit- tingly upon the native stock of activities." They stimu- late, intensify, weaken, select, concentrate or organize into their own likeness. They create out of the void of im- pulses a world made in their own image. Man is a crea- ture of habit, not of reason, nor yet of instinct. Social Habits.-At first thought this emphasis on habit seems to lead us far afield from social psychology. We note, however, that for Dewey habit is explicitly social. His book is intended as an introduction to human nature exhaustively considered, and to knowledge of character and conduct as founded on the view of human nature which he discloses. He shows that while instinctive im- pulses are prior to habits, the native activities get their meaning from social conditions, the conditions which have educated the original activities into definite dispositions. The Social Point of View 389 The impulses are secondary and dependent, as babies, for example, are dependent beings. While the native stock of instincts is practically the same everywhere, social customs and moral codes show the greatest diversity. This is another strong point in favor of habit rather than instinct, and it is interesting to fol- low Dewey as far as he can lead us. The original dif- ferences, do not, he points out, explain the diversity in customs and culture. Hence the native impulse must be stated in terms of acquired habit, not the growth of cus- toms in terms of instincts. "The same original fears, angers, loves and hates are hopelessly entangled in the opposite institutions. The thing we need to know is how a native stock has modified by interaction with different environments. . . . The inchoate and scattered impulses of an infant do not coordinate into serviceable powers except though social dependence and companionships. His impulses are merely starting-points for the assimila- tion of the knowledge and skill of the matured beings upon whom he depends." The Self and Habit.-This emphasis on habit as the basis of social psychology becomes the more marked when we note that Dewey rejects the notion of an original indi- vidual consciousness, and traces individuality to impulse asserting itself deliberately against an existing custom (col- lective habit), which supplies the standard for personal activity. Every act tends to the fulfillment or satisfaction of some habit. For although habits as organized are second- ary and acquired, are outgrowths of unlearned activities, hence second in time, in conduct the acquired is the primi- tive: it stimulates, inhibits, weakens, selects, concentrates upon. The theory that there is an instinct of self-preser- vation, everywhere implying self-love, is therefore unten- able as the basis of our social conception. Dewey finds this "fallacy" due to the belief in the fixity and simplicity of the self, whereas in reality the self is in the making. Our original activities are not restricted to a definite num- ber of sharply demarcated classes of instincts. There are complex, unstable opposing attitudes, habits, impulses, 390 Social Psychology Each impulse or habit is originally a will to its own power, is force, urgency. What we call consciousness expresses the functions of habits, their interruption and reorganiz- ation. Habits interfered with get new directions, as they cluster about an impulse, although there is a body of resi- dual undisturbed habits. Recalling the considerations which came before us in Part One, we note that there are strong reasons for this emphasis on habit as the central principle of our nature. Yet the same objections raised against habit in general psychology hold with equal force when we try to discover the fundamental clue to our social nature. Granted the force of Dewey's description of habit as underlying all aspects of our nature, the account he gives us is meager; and the outlines must be filled in by descriptions of the part played by instinct, imitation, custom, sympathy, and other matters which we are presently to consider, so that habit shall be given an ever wider connotation. McDougall objects that while Dewey recognizes the importance of the instincts and their impulses in human nature, he strongly deprecates any and every attempt to distinguish or define them; and without giving any intelligible reason for this refusal to be interested in "the primary task of the psy- chologist. "12 To stop with habits is to stop with the conditioned reflexes of behaviorism, hence to minimize in- telligence. It leaves us with guesses as to how some of our most important habits are formed, and without any way to account for the drive which gives them persistence and makes our experience directive: habits are instruments which serve our purposes, but do not determine them. Disposition as a Basis.-Other writers avoid this issue between habit and instinct, habit and intelligence, by adopting the convenient term "disposition." Thus Will- iams begins with the distinction between (1) inherited traits which become adapted to life in the group, in ac- cordance with group attitudes and ideas, that is, instinctive tendencies; and (2) dispositions, modified instinctive processess, e.g., an aggressive disposition, the dispositions 12 Outline of Psychology, p. 176, The Social Point of View 391 being subject to a tendency to avoid annoyance and seek satisfaction, and a tendency to be strengthened and de- velop a variety of habits and attitudes. 13 From this point on Williams's entire social psychology is a study of dis- positions, such as the acquisitive, rivalrous, intellectual, dominating, sympathetic, resistful. The objection is that we are still without a clear conception of the nature and place of habits, instincts, and intelligence. Edman begins with "responses" which take place in given specific situations, observed universal modes of be- havior due to a wide variety of competing and contempo- raneous stimuli, and the original driving forces of action.14 The instincts define what men can do and what they want to do. When it is a question of control and direction, the acquired mechanisms of behavior (habits) come into play, the basic human activities being food, shelter, and sex. But the term "response" carries us no farther back than "disposition." The Great Society.-Graham Wallas finds our social heritage in a combination of socially inherited expedients with biologically inherited instincts. Man is a loosely gregarious species, the impulse to lead alternating with the impulse to follow. Elementary and complex disposi- tions (instincts and intelligence) give the psychological basis for the Great Society. Thus we come by "trial and error, ' ' for example, which may cause action that is rather instinctive than intelligent, but sometimes action which is rather intelligent than instinctive. Curiosity is on the doubtful line between instinct and intelligence. Thought is a state which we "fall into," a mental activity consist- ing in its simplest form of an automatic succession of ideas and feelings which arrange themselves into organized re- lations, a process which is not yet differentiated as memory, imagination, or reasoning, Wallas holds that thought may have enabled man to make the first steps from a mainly instinctive to a mainly intelligent life, as in the deep undirected meditation of the shepherd or the fisher- 13 J. M. Williams, Principles of Social Psychology, 1922, Chap. I. 14 Edman, Human Traits and their Social Significance, 1920. 392 Social Psychology man who stops "dreaming" to think. Language is a dis- position or inherited inclination to express and to receive ideas by symbols, as in drawing, significant gestures, speech, writing.15 Our description of the various dispo- sitions should take full account of the environment in which they function, some being balked, others in part sublimated. A primary shortcoming on the part of many who have tried to formulate a science of society is seen in the case of writers who select some one of the dispositions as the foundation of a complete social scheme: Hobbes starts with Fear; Bentham with Pleasure-Pain; Comte with Love; Tarde with Imitation. But in any practical situation these dispositions interact. Of those chosen as a single basis, habit is perhaps the most important of the psycho- logical causes which have made the organization of the Great Society possible. Hence Wallas disagrees with Mc- Dougall's fundamental emphasis on the instincts: it is through habit that the influence of intelligence has most control, our instincts as compared with those of other animals being weak and plastic; while some are inhibited by habit-education. Yet if it were merely a question of habit, all we would need to do would be to discover what is wanting in our inherited dispositions and supply the need by education. This is not so easy as it sounds. Habit is not ' ' second nature ' ' after all. Habituation is less stable than inheritance. A nervous shock or any intense nervous excitement may abolish settled habits, leaving the inherited dispositions unchanged. Moral habits may disappear. Aristotle showed that virtue is more than habit. With all that is to be said in its favor therefore, habit is not a self- sufficient basis for social life. Habit may fail us. Some habits acquired by training are natural and successful, others are unnatural and unsuccessful. There is need of "a live wire" in the shape of a habit of non-habituation, of over-riding habit, of power to originate.16 With fine insight, Wallas acknowledges the sphere of is The Great Society, p. 51. 16 1 bid., p. 83, italics ours, The Social Point of View 393 habit to the full, yet passes beyond it to a comprehensive study of varied elements of the Great Society, to which he gives the scope needed for our inquiry. The acts and feelings of a man's fellows are said to affect a man's ivhole nature, and produce various responses through fear, love, jealousy, thought, and the rest. These responses are due to pre-existing dispositions, even if man is unconscious of them. Each man is stirred by his whole relation to his fellowmen rather than by imitation alone, or suggestion, or sympathy. Our social psychology should therefore begin with a view of the complexity of human nature, rather than with a single principle and then try to intro- duce complexity. Love, for instance, is a common factor. Thought is a true natural disposition. Reason is not due to mere instinct, is not secondary. In the Great So- ciety instinctive action on a large scale is impossible. There must be rational leadership. Deliberate thought is greatly superior to instinct, less misleading. Thought has its own appropriate group of stimuli, its appropriate course of action, and appropriate emotions. Cognition and Habit.-Accepting Wallas's conclusions as final in so far as he pleads for varied dispositions ade- quately accounting for the Great Society in its rich com- plexity, instinct and intelligence side by side, with signifi- cant emphasis on habit, we are prepared to give full recognition to any point of view in social psychology which contributes its single term, such as imitation, sympathy, love, and to assign each disposition its place by critically relating it with its rivals. When it is a question of habit, we have to do with what Dewey admits is merely its prob- able effect in the long run, remembering his distinction between habit and routine. In his terms, we have "to do the best we can with habits" as the forces most under our control, as tending (in the guise of custom) to get the better of us and keep us from progress. We shall "have our hands more than full in spelling out their gen- eral tendencies, without attempting an exact judgment on each deed. For every habit incorporates within itself some part of the objective environment, and no habit and 394 Social Psychology no amount of habits can incorporate the entire environ- ment within itself or themselves. ' '17 The view of habit which we adopt for our inquiry leaves room then for Wallas's plea for occasional protest against habit in terms of non-habituation. We still follow Mc- Dougall in starting with cognition, conation, and affection as already present in man's original psychical activities; hence we avoid the assumption that cognition is a second- ary development due to habit, with the implied deprecia- tion of intelligence. If we agreed with the pragmatists and instrumentalists, we should reduce cognition to the level of an adaptive course of action or habit, and regard intelligence as derived. Dewey, in his extreme reaction against intellectualism, often leaves us with little more than organized habits to which our ideas appear to be so subordinate that there is no longer any incentive to develop reason to the full. We may follow his instru- mentalism one mile without going twain, accepting the appeal to practice as one of the tests. Our social psy- chology would be meager in the extreme, if we did not try out every significant candidate, such as suggestion, sympathy, love, noting the consequences to which it leads as well as the habits through which it finds expression. The pragmatie test is the order of the day. Yet every new point of view generates its habits, acquires its limitations, and in the end develops a new intellectualism. We would be in danger of losing our vision of the Great Society, unless we should also scrutinize the tendency to put cog- nition, hence reason and intelligence, in a place so far secondary that we should not only lose headway but forget that habits are instruments merely, called into being by our purposes, useful if they enable us to realize ideals which they did not generate. Man as a Social Being.-We conclude then that as habits are insufficient as springs of action, we must look elsewhere in man's original nature both for the drive (conation) implied in the instincts and the intelligence which, as a native disposition, develops with the other it Human Nature and Conduct, Chap. III. The Social Point of View 395 dispositions and finds purposeful expression in higher types of cognition. If the essential nature of mind is "to govern present action by anticipation of the future in the light of past experiences" (McDougall), one of the lessons to be learned is that we should analyze habit in all its subtlest forms, that we may counteract its dominion as custom, conventionality, tradition, conservatism. One of the traditions is reverence for the human self as an isolated individual, to the neglect of a fact which should be obvious that man is primarily a social being. We must guard against the tendency to say that man is social be- cause he is gregarious. The assumption that "instinct" ("instincts") explains everything may be as short-sighted as assumptions in favor of imitation or habit. There is no single principle that explains everything. Man is a social being such that, originally actuated by instincts, later by the dispositions and habits which express his instincts, but also originally endowed with intelligence at least as a capacity making for reason in progressively higher forms, he is able to organize groups variously de- scribable in terms of imitation, sympathy, loyalty, and other incentives. He tends to organize the Great Society. His motives exist on a large scale. These are "unwitting" at first. The conservation of values begins long before man knows what values are, that some are eternal, and that he is achieving for the ages. But prominent among these unwitting incentives is the very great truth that even in his apparent isolation, and whatever the force of the so- called instinct of self-preservation, whatever the power of self-love, man is all the while essentially social-social even in his cognitions, his conations, and his affections. To see this is to gain the social point of view, and realize the necessity of revising many of our conceptions. The Past.-We have previously noted the tendency to assume uncritically that memory and association are purely physiological: it is on this presupposition that the reign of habit is assumed to be absolute. To adopt this view is to be prepared to agree, with Platt and other writers on social psychology of his stamp, that it is purely 396 Social Psychology a matter of "patterns" due to the formation and persist- ence of paths of low resistance in the brain. But if, with Bergson, we challenge this position from the start, distin- guishing between habit and memory, brain and mind, we may conclude that "the past survives under two dis- tinct forms: first in motor mechanisms; secondly, in inde- pendent recollections."18 Hence we may agree that memory has never been accounted for by habit alone. "Motor habit," says McDougall, "is formed by neural association; true memory involves mental association, a principle which seems to be of a very different order." Reproductive imagination is very different from a motor habit. To have a good memory means, as we have already noted, to have a well organized mind. A man organizes his mind in accordance with his purposes. He breaks with his past. He breaks with society in a measure, as a non- conformist bent on freeing society from its own past. The more alert he is the more he critically questions society's "patterns." No mere summary of what has been in terms of these patterns yields a complete view of the Great Society as he now proposes to work to make it actual. A study of the past always discloses the two elements: (1) mechanism, routine, mere practicality, realism, bondage to habit or custom; (2) idealism, protest, innovation, the element of values, self-consciousness, personality. Summary.-Social psychology calls for recognition of the truth that man is essentially a social being, that his whole nature is the basis for investigation; despite the tendency to minimize his nature, through surrender to a mechanical point of view, on the assumption that even cognition is matter of habit, that intelligence is derived. Most social principles may indeed prove to be in large part manifestations of habit, notably in the case of custom, tradition, public opinion; but this is no reason for neglecting to analyze each one down to the foundation with reference to all significant motives, egoism vs. altru- ism, the individual protesting against the past, that we is Mature et Memoire, Chap. II, quoted by McDougall, Outline, p. 299. The Social Point of View 397 may penetrate to the purposes which have called habits into highly organized forms. 'Whether we begin with "dispositions," "responses," "patterns" or "instincts," we still have on our hands the problem of social conflict in all its forms, it is still a question of the higher motives which prompt men to foregather in the interests of moral and religious standards. Resistance to change is every- where apparent in the maladjustments of society, particu- larly in the industries. Habit in the form of conservatism yields one cause only. How shall we account for radical- ism, and the persistence of social change? What are the impelling forces of social evolution? If we find no single principle in human nature which accounts for social evo- lution, which yields the Great Society, our resource is to start with the instincts, dispositions, intelligence, side by side, then trace the various forms which these native tend- encies take in later stages of development. A too exclusive emphasis on the instincts is apt to lead to an emotional view of society, to the neglect of thought. We are not alone concerned with a psychological explanation of such factors as imitation or public opinion, but with the social forces which eventually bring about what is known as social organization. Study of behavior yields a clue. But it is also a question of conduct. Our view of human nature must be large enough to include the behavior- conduct series in terms of social purpose. We have reason to be as skeptical as the pragmatists of any view of society established by theoretical reasoning alone. To know the social point of view we must mingle with our fellows, in the crowd, to see whither they are tending, analyzing to discover implied motives. We are not limited to what has been. We are concerned with possibilities. The social point of view is in a sense a new one, in this the great social century, 398 Social Psychology REFERENCES Bogardus, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, Chap. I, (bibliography). Ross, E. A., Social Psychology, 1908; Principles of Sociology, 1921, p. 41. Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, 1917, Chap. I. McDougall, W., Social Psychology, 14th ed., 1921; Outline of Psychology, 1923, pp. 176, 177, 181. Josey, C. C., The Social Philosophy of Instinct, 1922. Wallas, G., The Great Society, 1914, Chaps. I, II; Human Nature and Politics, 1908; Our Social Heritage, 1921. Dickinson, Z. C., Economic Motives, 1922. Dewey, J., Human Nature and Conduct, 1922, Chaps. II, III, VI. Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, 1922, Book I (bibliography). Edman, I., Human Traits and Their Social Significance, 1920, Chap. I. Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, Chaps. I, II. Cooley, C. IL, Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902, Chap I. CHAPTER XXV MENTAL EVOLUTION AND INSTINCT In preceding chapters we have tacitly assumed that there has been some kind of evolution from a lower to a higher level of instinct, and we have noted a tendency to adopt the term "instinct" as explanatory in high degree. This term is in some respects the central term of social psychology: sometimes it is put in relation with intelli- gence, but again it is put in contrast with it. How then shall we conceive the process of evolution which discloses instinct engaged in its proper functions? Critics have been inclined to disagree with Bergson's conception of creative evolution, with its emphasis on intuition as the successor of instinct, which in turn is sharply contrasted with intellect. The clue which Hobhouse follows involves fewer assumptions, both in the case of evolution and in the case of instinct.1 Hobhouse holds that evolution is not synonymous with progress, as many of us readily as- sume: it is not always upwards, not even normally so; it is not serial; its plan is not that of a straight line or even a spiral, but rather that of a tree. Normally, evolu- tion accentuates the existing tendency, whatever it may be; it might be atrophy, as in the case of an animal dwell- ing in a cave. The general tendency is not to produce the highest type, but as many types as possible; evolution multiplies and defines. The Place of Mind.-Mind in evolution is known by the functions which it brings together so that they have a bearing on one another; it organizes, adapts means to ends. Its growth is manifest in the wider and subtler intercon- nection of what is otherwise separate and even inconsist- i L. T. Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, 1901, Chap. I. 399 400 Social Psychology ent. Its place is seen in relation to organic adaptability, the adaptation of behavior to the requirements of the organism; the organism maintains itself by continual adaptations.2 The effect of experience on behavior is a specific case of this adaptability, and it need not imply learning from experience, since it might be a modification due to pleasure or pain immediately resulting, that is, confirmatory or inhibitory. The burnt child dreads the fire because it hurts. Experience operates on crude sen- sation and feeling in the sphere of instinct. There is then a correlation of experience, and modified action results. Hobhouse is cautious in the introduction of higher cate- gories. He finds "the paradox of organic action" in the fact that it carries out apparent purposes without pur- posing to do so. The ordinary healthy animal, for ex- ample, does not eat in order to support life, but because it is hungry; it responds to impulse, which does not in- volve prevision, is not adaptive or purposive. The act is the result of a permanent structure acted upon by a stimulus. Purposive action comes in later, not while habit is dominant. Purpose is due to the relation between thing done and the result of doing it; not on habit, but on knowledge of the relation of end to means. This knowl- edge, distinct from the habit of action, may be due to passive observation. The relation on which knowledge is based may be experienced without leading to the forma- tion of a habit. This knowledge may then be applied under new circumstances. While impulses are fixed in relation to stimuli, whether by heredity or habit, action does not require or tolerate any further guide. But when the point must be defined specifically for each action, then idea combines with impulse to qualify and produce de- sire. This analysis is highly important for our purposes, because it carefully distinguishes knowledge from habit. Learning.-Again Hobhouse distinguishes imitation from learning by the perception of results. Success in learning is seen in the case of attention to a sequence of events: even an animal may correct errors by results. 2 Ibid., Chap. II. Mental Evolution and Instinct 401 There is then a natural tendency to learn by perception. To perception, any object is a center of many relations, and any relation may be instructive. Thus appears knowl- edge of localities, objects, individuals: something more is acquired than action appropriate to a perceived quality: there is appreciation of an object as a whole. "The first function of intelligence is to define the proximate ends of instinct, and thereby to render experience available in the choice or revision of means. Hence the higher the intelli- gence, the greater the complexity of which instincts are capable. ' '3 Reason and Instinct.-The concept of the self is de- pendent on the power of grasping masses of experience in comprehensive and interrelated conceptions, when there is free play of ideas, articulate thought, and imagination. The basis of human conduct is discoverable in hereditary character, that is, the hereditary tendencies to feel, to think, to act in a determinate manner. Hobhouse holds that, properly considered, the impulse to reason is itself an instinct. The method is in the first place inherited from reactions to appropriate objects ;4 instinct, or heredi- tary character, mental and moral, is the ultimate basis of human conduct, with the rise of tradition as a third force, which brings the experience of the race to bear on indi- vidual conduct in a new sense. Reason appears as the impulse to harmonize and unify. In our common knowl- edge ideas already exist in tacit but real combination. We might reduce these to a system, but they are discoverable as loose and ill organized: common sense tolerates a good deal of contradiction. Moral Conceptions.-Hobhouse likewise traces our moral conceptions to their origin in the impulses of human nature, that is, in society, not in the individual. This view means emphasis on two conditions for the mainte- nance of the species: (1) the principle of self-maintenance, the will-to-live, which has its origin in the tendency to self-maintenance which we attribute to organisms as such, and which persists through various impulses; (2) the gre- 3 Ibid., p. 271. 4 Op. cit., p. 318. 402 Social Psychology garious instinct: individuals need one another, they are not complete by themselves, as we note in the case of sex.5 Early rivalries and hatreds are signs of the self-assertive- ness which is profoundly modified when love enjoins self- sacrifice. The stage of pure instinct is best seen when the sexual and parental impulses appear. These early impulses should not be called 1 ' selfish " or " unselfish, ' ' because these terms imply the conception of ends, and this is alien to instinct. Hobhouse reaches the conclusion that the con- ception of a primitive egoism on which sociability is some- how overlaid is without foundation, either in biology or psychology. The primitive being should be regarded as acting as part of a whole, as member of a species, stimu- lated by affinity to other individuals; social life is a man- ifestation of the gregarious instinct. That is, the affec- tions, and with them the relation of family and friends, rest upon the emotional need we have of one another. Our common interests and understanding is reared on the basis of a common nature. Social Evolution.-This principle is embedded in the structure of society, fostering its life and growth: first, a mass of rules and customs, later written laws, then permanent standards which society itself enforces, thereby establishing a moral system. Effective moral theory is broadly relative to the practical exigencies of the existing social structure. The evolution of society takes place through the claims of self-assertion in relation with recog- nition of what is due from man to man. The pure social principle by itself would demand the suppression of every instinct making for antagonism and personal aggrandise- ment. Society's collective instinct of self-preservation reduces the other instincts to order as best it may, the original aim being not to conquer but to compromise with them. This account of mental evolution provides our inquiry with the theater of social activity in which we find the instincts at play, while intelligence appears amidst the original tendencies and habits. Hobhouse everywhere 5 Ibid., p. 338. Mental Evolution and Instinct 403 traces mental evolution in terms of the correlation of ex- periences: (1) the pre-intellectual stage, in which there is an individual correlation of experiences, reactions, welfare, with capacities for learning from experience; (2) corre- lations based on individual experiences through (a) un- conscious readjustment, (b) concrete experience and prac- tical judgment, (c) conceptional thinking and will, and (d) rational system. The resulting conception is that of an organic whole which has a certain general character or individuality, consisting of distinguishable parts each with a certain character of its own, such that they can not exist unmodified apart from the whole, while the char- acter of the whole is similarly dependent upon them. In relation to this whole of which society consists, the func- tion of intelligence is to correlate experience and action. The development of intelligence consists in widening the scope of this function, as well as in perfecting its execution. Instinctive Behavior.-Postponing the question of the relation of social or crowd consciousness to this organic whole, and confining our attention for the moment to in- stinct as Hobhouse describes it, we find a tendency among recent writers on social psychology to give place to instinct rather than ' ' instincts. " It is said that instincts have been overdone: undifferentiated instinct is taking their place as the basis of an infinite complex web of habits, these habits being our sense of social unity.6 That is, be- havior has passed through the instinctive stage, general tendencies, replete with impulses, disclosed themselves; and it is with these dispositions that we are concerned. Thus Cooley finds that we are born with what might be roughly described as "a vaguely differentiated mass of mental tendency, vast and potent, but unformed and need- ing direction." 7 If this view is to be accepted, it is futile to attempt to draw up a list of the several instincts where- with man is said to be endowed: no two lists agree, and our analysis is unable to penetrate far enough back to the instinctive level to single out a definitive list amidst the 6 See R. H. Gault, Social Psychology, 1923, p. 36, foil. 7 C. H. Cooley, Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902, p. 284. 404 Social Psychology general "instinctive material" which is said to be the out- come of age-long development. In Cooley's terms, the in- dividual inherits ' ' the soul of the whole past, ' ' his portion of the energy, the passion, the tendency of human life, including tendencies to emotion and a tendency to think. Romanes undertakes to define this instinctive behavior in general as "conscious adaptive action, antecedent to individual experience, without necessary knowledge of re- lations between means employed and means attained, but similarly performed, under similar and frequently recur- ring circumstances, by all the individuals of the species."8 If instinct seems more akin at first to reflex action than to intelligence, as essentially "non-mental, neuro-muscular adaptation to appropriate stimuli" (Romanes), it is still true, as Drever's analysis shows, that "this instinctive structure is a marvelous adaptation to the conditions in which it must function." The specific impulse determines the specific activity, when the specific situation is presented in consciousness; and perceptual experience guides right action. The analysis turns upon more subjective factors as it proceeds; the striving, the impulse or feeling pertains more to the subject than to the object. The purely mechanistic explanation of instinct seems impossible because behavior involves experience and conation. Hence Drever accepts the conclusion that there is no instinctive behavior without an intelligent factor, and no intelligent behavior without an instinctive factor.9 Since experience is determined both by the experiencer and the nature of the experienced object or situation, as Drever puts it, the "psychical integration" which results is the main consideration: it is this that gives meaning to instinct. This meaning is plainly affective rather than cognitive, at first. The instinct-interest is due to original needs; is dynamic, not static. The original human nature is: (1) capacities to have sensation, to perceive, reason, learn; and (2) conscious impulses or driving forces im- plied in those activities, without which the capacities would s Animal Intelligence, p. 17. 9 J. Drever, Instinct in Man, 1917, p. 105, foil. Mental Evolution and Instinct 405 be meaningless. Granted this "psychical integration," as described by Drever we may trace characteristic develop- ments from the instinctive level, noting their close rela- tion both to environment and to the species, also noting that a given "instinct" is an abstraction. The Herd Instinct.-Recent descriptions have begun with the herd as the basic fact, then have given a picture of various instinctive tendencies in operation amidst their native environment. Such descriptions presuppose the coming together of herds through instinctive behavior, al- ready so complex that it is difficult to say what tendency is prior. Thus Trotter holds that it is out of the question to reduce these primitive tendencies to any one funda- mental, actuating instinct, or even to three (self-preserva- tion, sex, nutritive). The latter would be different in the case of the animals, for instance, the dog, "with his con- science, his humor, his terror of loneliness, his capacity for devotion to a brutal master, or that of the bee, with her selfless devotion to the hive. ' '10 That is, animals with more gregariousness would differ in various respects from those with less. Our investigation of human society, thinks Trotter, begins with gregariousness as the funda- mental quality. It is the individual as part of the herd that is capable of transmitting the most potent impulses. For example, the wolf which does not follow the impulses of the herd will be starved, the sheep which does not re- spond to the flock will be eaten. The herd is the normal environment. Impulses derived from it will enter the mind with the value of instincts. The herd impulse is the power which can confer instinctive sanctions on any part of the field of belief or action. Hence Trotter infers that the social habit of man is a consequence of gregariousness (in the large sense in which he uses the term), with its unanalyzable primary sense of comfort in contrast with discomfort, and its secure and salutory feeling of warmth. The desire for identification with the herd in matters of opinion also comes into view. We have here the biological explanation of the ineradicable impulse towards segrega- io w. Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 1916, p. 17. 406 Social Psychology tion into classes, the dislike of being conspicuous, the origin of shyness and stage-fright. Herd suggestion is rendered acceptable by the action of instinct. Of two sug- gestions, "that which the more perfectly embodies the voice of the herd is the more acceptable. ' ' Trotter regards suggestibility as the normal quality of the mind, socially regarded. ' ' To believe must be an ineradicable natural bias of man, or in other words an affirmation, positive or negative, is more readily accepted than rejected, unless its source is more definitely dissociated from the herd. Man is not, therefore, suggestible by fits and starts, not merely in panics or mobs, under hypnosis, and so forth, but always, everywhere, and under any circumstances. ' '11 The new encounters herd tradition. The accumulation of herd tradition means fixed opinion. Trotter conceives primitive society as a condition in which herd tribal sug- gestion, compactly organized, ruled absolutely. Reason would have intruded upon instinct as an alien and hostile power, disturbing the perfection of life, causing an unend- ing series of conflicts. The "comfort of instinctive be- liefs" was paramount. The "belief of affirmations sanc- tioned by the herd is a normal mechanism of the human mind." It goes on however much it may be opposed by evidence. Even conscience is a result of the gregarious instinct. This fundamental instinct introduces a profound change, a controlling power upon the individual from without, a change from individual desire and pleasure. When duty is brought in there is conflict. Altruism is antagonized by herd tradition. Hence the long struggle between the stable and the unstable in human society, the struggle between suggestion and the herd instinct, between the individual and the herd, no opportunity having been provided for the free development of the important individual. The Source of Conflict.-Trotter assimilates Freud's psychology of conflict as the central feature of the situa- tion, namely, the desires of the individual in contrast with ii Ibid., p. 33. Mental Evolution and Instinct 407 the successful competing instinctive mechanism, which has force enough to resist an instinct as powerful as the sex- ual. The essence of mental conflict is found in the an- tagonism of two impulses which both have instinct behind them, both being intimate constituents in the personality of the subject. The source of this environmental power in the group is found in the mind of the gregarious ani- mal : herd opinion has the psychical energy of instinct. The "specific sensitiveness of the gregarious mind" is the necessary condition for true mental conflict. The personality of the adult is the resultant of three groups of forces to which the mind from infancy is sub- ject: (1) egoistic instincts for gratification and possessing the intense mental energy characteristic of instinctive processes; (2) the specific sensitiveness to environmental influences which the mind of a gregarious animal naturally possesses, a quality capable of endowing outside influences with the energy of instinct; and (3) the environmental in- fluences which act upon the growing mind and are also essentially determined in their intensity and uniformity by instinctive mechanisms.12 Influence of the Herd.-Trotter finds it necessary then to distinguish between delayed instincts, those which are not necessarily carried out with fatal promptitude imme- diately upon stimulus; and complex instincts, which con- sist of acts rather than movements, and may be accom- panied by quite elaborate mental processes, mostly feelings. The persistence of instincts is established and enforced by the effects of millions of years of selection. Hence a few thousand years of civilized life, "accompanied by no steady selection against any single instinct," can not have any effect in weakening them. Man is among animals most, not least endowed with an inheritance of instinct, as some have thought. Man "disguises the fact from the observer and from himself." His conduct is much less truly variable than has been supposed. Because of his gregariousness he is intolerant and fearful of solitude, physical or mental; hence his mental fixity, his intellectual 12 Ibid., p. 87. 408 Social Psychology incuriousness. "He is more sensitive to the voice of the herd than to any other influence. It can inhibit or stimu- late his thought and conduct. It is the source of his moral codes, of the sanctions of his ethics and philosophy. It can endow him with energy, courage and endurance, and can easily take these away. It can make him acquiesce in his own punishment and embrace his executioner, submit to poverty, bow to tyranny, and sink without complaint under starvation."13 He is subject to the passions of the pack in his mob violence and the passion of the herd in his panics. He is remarkably susceptible to leadership, and his relations with his fellows are dependent upon the recog- nition of him as a member of the herd. McDougall's View.-With this convincing description of gregariousness as our basis, we are prepared to follow McDougall's classic analysis of the instincts as common to the men of every race and age, the foundation of human character, the innate specific tendencies which are neither acquired nor eradicated by the individual.14 We have al- ready noted the fact that in McDougall's account instinc- tive behavior involves (1) knowledge of something or some object; (2) a feeling in regard to it; and (3) a striving towards or away from it. It is this three-fold aspect of cognition, affection, and conation which distinguishes in- stinct from reflex action. Hence the definition: an in- stinct is "an inherited or innate psycho-physical dispo- sition which determines its possessor to perceive and to pay attention to objects of a certain class, to express an emotional excitement of a particular quality . . . and to act in regard to it in a particular manner, or, at least, to experience an impulse to such action. ' '15 Directly or indirectly, instincts are the prime movers of all human activity, both in every train of thought and in every bodily activity initiated and sustained. The in- stinctive impulses determine the ends of all activities and supply the driving power by which all mental activities are sustained, pain and pleasure being guides only. The is Tbid., n. 115. 14 Social Psychology, Introd. 15 Ibid., p. 30. Mental Evolution and Instinct 409 affective aspect of the operations of a primary instinct (simple tendency) yields a primary emotion. Hence McDougall develops his account of the instincts and of the accompanying emotions side by side throughout. Thus the instinct of flight and the emotion of fear, with terror in the most intense degree of the emotion, belong together; the instinct of repulsion implies the emotion of disgust, curiosity implies wonder, pugnacity implies anger. The great strength of the impulse of pugnacity carries with it the high intensity of the emotion it generates, the im- pulse to break down any obstruction; it presupposes the other instincts, and is apt to be intense in proportion to the strength of the obstructed impulse. Self-abasement (subjection) and self-assertion (self-display) are accom- panied by the emotions of subjection (negative self- feeling) and elation (positive self-feeling). These are of great importance in the psychology of character and voli- tion. The instinct of self-display is social, is only brought into play in the presence of spectators; later comes self- consciousness, then boasting and swagger (in boys) and vanity (girls). With most of us this is the most impor- tant constituent of the self-regarding sentiment. The Parental Instinct.-McDougall puts special empha- sis on the parental instinct and the tender emotion (not sympathy), the maternal instinct, with its parental pro- tectiveness, the maintenance of the species being the ob- ject.16 This may become more powerful than any other instinct and can override any other, even fear; for it works directly in the service of the species, in contrast with the individual, for which nature cares little. This is indeed the most powerful of the instincts. It is accompanied by a strong and definite emotion, very generally ignored by psy- chologists and philosophers. Possibly the tender emotion may be weak or lacking in men, a defect of the native endowment of philosophers. The racial original of this instinct is undoubtedly ma- ternal. The tender emotion and the sentiment of love did not arise from a disguised selfishness, as some have is Op. tit., p. 68. 410 Social Psychology maintained, but from some ancestral instinct of primary importance to the race. From this emotion spring gen- erosity, love, pity, true benevolence, and altruistic conduct of every kind. It may be complicated or give place to the combative impulse, its obstruction may provoke anger, the alliance with anger being of great significance in the social life of man: anger is the germ of all moral indigna- tion, and on moral indignation depend justice, and the greater part of public law. Here is the touchstone for all theories of the moral emotions and sentiments. Ap- parent altruism can not be reduced to far-sighted egoism. Mere sympathy might lead us to avoid the neighborhood of the distressed, while the tender emotion draws us nearer to the sufferer and the sad. The instinct of reproduction (sexual) is, of course, in- timately connected with the parental. This instinct may lend the immense energy of its impulse to the sentiments and complex impulses into which it enters, while its specific character remains submerged. Here McDougall affords a sound basis for Freud's critique without undue emphasis on the libido and the unconscious. The Sentiments.-Following Shand, McDougall puts stress on the sentiments and complex emotions organized in systems about the various objects and classes of objects which excite them.17 For instance, love and hate imply enduring tendencies to experience certain emotions when- ever the loved or hated object comes to mind. There is love for a person, then tender emotion in his presence, fear or anxiety in case of danger, anger if threatened, sor- row if lost, joy in case the person prospers, and gratitude toward one who does him good. There are complete emo- tional states which do not necessarily imply any organized sentiments, such as admiration (wonder, negative self- feeling, and curiosity) ; and those which involve a senti- ment, such as reproach (anger and tender emotion), jeal- ousy (love, anger, painful check to one's tender emotion and sentiment; possibly tendency to either revenge or reproach). McDougall rejects sorrow and joy as primary it Ibid., p. 126. Mental Evolution and Instinct 411 emotions because they are pleasure-pain qualifications of emotional states. Pity is tender emotion tinged with sym- pathetically induced pain. Happiness is no mere sum of pleasures, it arises from the harmonious operation of all the sentiments of a well organized and unified personality. The growth of the sentiments is of utmost importance for the character and conduct of the individual and so- ciety, the organization of the affective and conative life; otherwise there is mere chaos, without consistency or unity.18 All our social relations and conduct are based on the emotions and their impulses. Our judgments of value and merit are rooted in our sentiments, our moral principles also. They are classified according to the nature of the emotional dispositions which enter into their composition. For example, the tender emotions and pro- tective impulses involve love, liking, affection, and attach- ment. So-called self-love is a confusion of two different sentiments, self-love and self-respect. Self-love as Mc- Dougall regards it is the self-regarding sentiment of the thoroughly selfish man, the meaner sort of egoist; it in- cludes self-pity, but there may be little positive self-feeling, and no shame. Love, hate, and respect are the three main sentiments. The idea of the self is essentially a social product, always a conception of self in relation to other selves. It is in this social whole that morality appears, hence it is not necessary to assume the existence of a moral in- stinct. Instinctive behavior leads to instinctive impulses modified by the influence of rewards and punishments, conduct controlled in the main by anticipation of social praise and blame, hence conduct regulated by an ideal of what is right regardless of praise and blame. The Social Instinct.-What is the prime result of Mc- Dougall's system? Does it yield a social instinct in the fundamental sense of the word? Without attributing as great potency to gregariousness as Trotter does, McDougall describes it as one of the human instincts of greatest im- portance, since it has played an important part in mold- 18 Ibid., p. 164. 412 Social Psychology ing societary forms. In his later work he refers to Trot- ter's book as brilliant and very readable, but pervaded by the error of attributing to ' ' the herd instinct ' ' every form of social relation and influence in an undiscriminating manner.19 Gregariousness figures in McDougall's system as ' ' strongly confirmed by habit; the more numerous the herd or crowd or society in which the individual finds him- self, the more complete is the satisfaction of this impulse. But the possession of this instinct does not necessarily imply great sociability of temperament, sociability being more highly developed and complex. It is not permissible then to infer that this is "the social instinct," for it is not the root of all social life. Its goal is merely the near presence of other members of the species. The Drive.-As rich as McDougall's concept of our original nature is, Woodworth holds that McDougall does not include all the native capacities in his list of instincts; for these belong with the intellectual processes which lie outside the scheme of instincts, alleged by McDougall to be the servants of instinctive impulses, that is, mechanisms requiring a drive, not drives themselves.20 Woodworth holds that any mechanism once aroused is capable of fur- nishing its own drive, and also lending drive to other con- nected mechanisms, notably in the case of intellectual activity. McDougall's "conation" implied in the instincts is insufficient to account for this. The earning of money becomes an end, the accountant finds an end in his ac- counting, the designer in his designing. McDougall's view does not explain the learning of a trade or profession of interest on its own account. The system of human motives is much broader than McDougall's conception would allow. Intellectual interest is not provided for, nor the objective interests: in color, form, tone, number, spatial arrange- ments, mechanical effects, plants, animals. Our acquired equipment involves a vast number of complex acts that have been integrated in the process of learning. The drive as a selective tendency functions in these. The combined 19 Outline of Psychology, p. 154, n. 20 Dynamic Psychology, 1918, p. 66. Mental Evolution and Instinct 413 actions of an individual in a group are to be taken into account. The imitationists, for example, fail by picturing man as passive over against his fellows or his group; they overlook the drive toward sociability. Society is essentially activity or behavior. McDougall fails to recognize a defi- nitely social motive inherent in social activity: many drives combine to produce social activity in the sense of group action. Content of the Drive.-It might be said in rejoinder that so little recognition has been given the instincts and their emotions that it was necessary to develop this scheme to the full. In his later work McDougall admits that Woodworth's plea for a drive in the sense of impulsive energy is forceful, but in the case of a habit, such as feed- ing, the impulse resides in the feeding instinct rather than in the drive of the habit.21 We perform secondarily auto- matic or skilled actions, not for their own sake, but with some goal in view. It has not been proved that instincts give place to habits. In McDougall's view, as we have previously noted, conation includes action, attention, striv- ing, desire, volition, activity of every kind; thus he appears to have the full equivalent of Woodworth's social "drive." Volition.-Finally, in tracing out this scheme of in- stincts the question arises, How is the ideal conduct ac- quired, with a chosen motive made predominant, for in- stance, when weaker desires are made to triumph over stronger ? 22 Does this victory in the line of greatest re- sistance require us to accept James's indeterminism of the will ? 33 There would then be no science of society. The effort of will is not mysterious, it involves no new principle of activity or energy; but a subtle and complex play of impulses. Volition is only a specially complex case of conation, it is more than desire, issuing in action, and not the same as conflict of desires leading to action. Its es- sential mark is that the personality as a whole, the man himself is thrown upon the side of the weaker motive. Desire notoriously tends to maintain the idea of its object 2i Outline of Psychology, p. 180. 22 Social Psychology, p. 236. 23 cf. The Will to Believe, 1896. 414 Social Psychology or end in the focus of consciousness. Thought keeps flying back to what we strongly desire. Volitional effort can directly maintain a presentation at the focus of conscious- ness, the effort of attention being its essence, as James has shown. Rival ideas are suppressed or inhibited, and the favored idea persists by virtue of its own energy, works its appropriate effects. The volitional force is not primarily inhibitive, but is a reinforcement of the one idea or end on which the energy of the mind is concen- trated. Thus volition acquires positive increase of energy, the self is thrown on the side of the motive and made to prevail-the empirical self, backed up by self-regarding sentiments, the system of emotions and conations: this is the moral effort which gives victory to the ideal motive. A strong character is an organization of the sentiments in a harmonious system, with its dominant motive, ruling passion or master sentiment. Thus habitual dominance of a master sentiment is established, capable of determining the issue of every conflict, and the behavior of the indi- vidual is progressively less dependent on his environment. Summary.-Evolution involves a tendency to multipli- cation or differentiation, and does not necessarily involve progress. Mind appears in connection with discovery and adaptation of means to ends. Learning arises from ex- perience, is perceptual at first, and grows by correlation. Apparent purposes appear before purpose in the distinc- tive sense. Knowledge is to be distinguished from habit. With inherited character, human conduct becomes pos- sible, tradition appears, moral conceptions arise; and the self-assertive tendency combines with gregariousness in social evolution, which yields an organic whole. Mental evolution proceeds by correlation, from a pre-intellectual to an intellectual stage. Reason appears as a tendency to harmonize or unify. Instinctive behavior in general is disclosed on the basis of an undifferentiated tendency. Gregariousness is original, and there is no evidence that the self-assertive or egoistic tendency (self-love) is prior. The herd instinct affords a basis for a social psychology, in relation to which conflict may be understood. Yet Me- Mental Evolution and Instinct 415 Dougall's view is more intelligible and comprehensive, notably with reference to the parental instinct, the tender emotion, and the sentiments. There is then no social or herd instinct as such. The concept of the drive is essen- tial, especially in relation to habit. It leads once more to the idea of volition, and we again emphasize purpose through the dominance of a ruling sentiment. It is im- portant to keep in mind both the background on which Hobhouse has sketched the system of mental evolution, and the idea of the self as a conceptual culmination. REFERENCES Hobhouse, L. T., Mind in Evolution, 1901, Chaps. I, II, V, VIII, foil. Cooley, C. H., Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902, p. 284. Drever, J., Instinct in Man, 1917, Chap. IV. Trotter, W., Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 1916. McDougall, W., Social Psychology, 1921; Outline of Psychology, 1923, pp. 154, 180, 269. Woodworth, R. S., Dynamic Psychology, 1918, p. 66. Ginsberg, M., The Psychology of Society, 1921. CHAPTER XXVI IMITATION AND SUGGESTION No scientific knowledge is required to show the place and importance of imitation. The child brings its inherited capacities into play, as it imitates the movements of its elders, learns its language, learns to walk, and gradually attains full activity. By imitation the child acquires its social tendencies, through play, by observing the behavior of others, by adaptation to social environment, and gradual acquisition of custom, convention, tradition. All the activi- ties in general by which the individual fits into the'social order begin with imitation. The same process goes on at school, in learning methods, arts, all branches of knowl- edge. However original or great the later attainments, the individual even as poet, artist, actor, thinker, begins his life-work by imitation, and thereby discovers his own powers more and more, eventually branching out for him- self. All this takes place as matter of course in the later years. Imitation is in evidence on the street, when one individual sets the example by looking in an interested way at some- thing in process. It is implied in all crowd phenomena, especially when a crowd becomes excited and turns into a mob, following the person who sets the example of loud utterance or violence. It is active in the adoption and dis- tribution of fashions in dress, in modes of behavior; in popular crazes, in music or the substitute for it, in the opera or novel, in the spread of popular opinion. Imita- tion also runs through activities where its presence is not obvious. Royce has called attention to the fact that ideas, being essentially imitative of objects and events, combine in the judgment as acceptance or rejection of proposed imi- 416 Imitation and Suggestion 417 tative portrayal of objects.1 Language acquires its char- acter as a representation of facts through processes of com- paring one's own way of using words with the ways em- ployed by others. This is true from the time a child plays at imitating his nurse's words, or when hearing his own babble imitated, to the time when, as a lawyer, it may be, he adjusts his arguments to the requirements of judges and juries, and to the criticisms of opponents. That is, one who thinks is conscious of the way he behaves in the pres- ence of people and things, especially in the case of social adjustments involving imitations and contrasts. Recognition of Imitation.-Although the part played by it becomes obvious when our attention is called to it, the process of imitation did not early win scientific recognition. Bagehot called attention to imitation as "the main force which molds and fashions men in society," in his Physics and Politics, 1869. Gabriel Tarde undertook, in his Laws of Imitation, 1890, to interpret the whole of our social life as an imitation process. The term is used by Tarde to cover the processes of sympathy and suggestion, as well as processes to which the term would obviously be applied. Tarde held that the entire relationship between mind and mind could be explained by this process, as ' ' the elementary social phenomenon" or "fundamental social fact." Social unity is also due to this process, not to organic heredity. Beginning in 1894, Baldwin put forth a similar theory, and found imitation to be fundamental in our mental and social life; he developed this in an elaborately psychological way by tracing man's social development from childhood with reference to imitation as the method of social organi- zation.2 In this theory the intellectual elements of the imitation process are given more recognition, that is, the thoughts which supply the content of social life, as well as the part which the individual plays in originating ideas imitated and generalized by society. The individual's self- thought is secured by exercise of the imitative function. Society then organizes the contributions of the individual 1 Outlines of Psychology, pp. 276, 281, 293. 2 J. M. Baldwin, Mental Development in the Child and the Pace. 418 Social Psychology by means of imitation as everywhere its method. Hence social imitation is defined as a process in which one indi- vidual uses another as a copy for his own production of something, whether or not the individual consciously aims at the other as his model. The imitative function is the same type of function when that which is imitated belongs to the imitator himself, instead of to another person. Ell- wood summarizes Baldwin's whole view as follows: (1) the matter of social organization, or the content of the social life, is thoughts; (2) the method of their organization is imitation; (3) these thoughts originate with the individual; (4) certain of these thoughts are imitated and thus general- ized by society.3 Criticism.-It has been pointed out that this theory unduly simplifies the social life by overlooking or slighting the working of other factors besides imitation and sug- gestion (Ellwood). Evidence is not at hand to show that imitation of behavior is the chief factor in social evolution. Habits are not wholly acquired by imitation. The learning process is not found to be funda- mentally imitative by Thorndike and others who have specialized in its analysis. Less emphasis is put on imitation in the educative process than formerly. Imita- tion is now described as assisted by all the other develop- ing agencies, hence no one of the effects enumerated is wholly due to imitation (Horne). In the power of speech, in voluntary movements, and in self-consciousness imitation is indeed a chief factor. Imitation has been said to work near the beginning of the ninth month (Baldwin), but reaches its maximum in the early years. The imitative tendency is constantly being modified by other factors in the social process, and these must be taken into account. Other influences come in with the appearance of originality. Although self-consciousness is largely due to imitative processes, it branches out with the development of choice. It has been questioned whether imitation is an instinct at all, since every kind of action can be imitated; and there is nothing specific in the nature of the imitative movements 3 Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 232. Imitation and Suggestion 419 or in the sense-impressions by which the movements are excited or guided (McDougall). This variety of movement and sense impression is not due to complication of a con- genital disposition, such as takes place in the case of all true instincts: it characterizes imitative movements from the outset. There is no common affective state, and on common impulse seeking satisfaction, underlying the varieties of imitative action.4 Imitation as a Factor.-Imitation can not then be re- garded as the foundation of social life, but is rather an in- strument which the social life has developed to perfect its coordination.5 It is the chief means of propagating the acquired uniformities in human society, because it is the type of interaction between individuals which results in uniformity of activity. It makes for social unity except where unity rests upon difference rather than upon similarity. It is a factor in building up most social habits, and in most social adaptations. Through it habits useful to the race have been transmitted. But as a basis it be- comes less adequate as social evolution advances. Unlike- ness of activity favors the division of labor, social interde- pendence or solidarity. As rational activity increases it becomes less imitative. Suggestion-Imitation.-Bogardus treats suggestion and imitation as different aspects of the same process, sugges- tion being the initiating factor, and imitation the resulting phase.6 Suggestion is defined as "the process whereby an idea or mode of action is presented to the mind and accepted more or less uncritically." Imitation is "the process of copying an idea or mode of action and carrying it out more or less immediately in a relatively unchanged form." The entire process is a suggestion-imitation phenomenon. Suggestion depends on the motor nature of ideas: an idea tends to carry itself into action unless inhibited by counter impulses, habits, or ideas. Hence, granted the intrusion of an idea, the motor activity will do the rest, and this is imi- tation. The indirect, "slant-wise" use of suggestion is * Social Psychology, p. 106. 5 Ellwood, op. cit., p. 233. g Essentials of Social Psychology, Chaps. VI-VII. 420 Social Psychology seen in the case of political insinuation. Suggestion has least effect in persons of well-organized habits, vast range of experience, and systematic knowledge, who quickly turn upon the suggestion in critical reaction. Suggestion is plainly a powerful agent of either social destruction or con- struction. The effect of the suggestion being ordinarily indirect, the imitative action unconsciously follows. Actions are more easily imitated than ideas. The child is prone to copy irrationally the striking, spectacular actions of others, e.g., in the case of the motion-picture that por- trays stealing. Fashion-imitation is competitive imitation of the new and current. Convention-imitation is non-com- petitive copying of the formal. Custom-imitation is the imitation of established and ancestral ideas and methods. The Influence of Imitation.-Platt points out that al- though imitation is not to be regarded as the prime con- dition of social life, as some have maintained, its influence is seen from the first conscious effort of the infant to the last hour of life, and it is probably the principal part of all education, in school, home, and street.7 Imitation is essential to the like-mindedness without which there can be no sympathetic cooperation; a society too heterogeneous in its make-up can not long survive. Both sympathy and suggestion play a large part in it. The more nearly our patterns resemble those of other people, the more likelihood that they will be set in motion. Suggestion operates even when sympathy is slight, subtilely, through the subcon- scious. It varies with sex, age, race, time, condition, and source, all along the line. The greater the prestige of the source, the greater its power or "influence" as we call it. In alliance with sympathy, it produces the group mind, the national mind, and so comes to be of the utmost social importance. Imitation as Fundamental.-Although McDougall holds that imitation is mostly limited to copying actions, that is, expressive actions sympathetically excited, ideo-motor ac- tions, and actions which imply admiration, he maintains that it is indeed the prime condition of all collective mental t The Psychology of Social Life, Chap. IV. Imitation and Suggestion 421 life, the great conservative force of society, essential to all social progress throughout a people and to the distribution of ideas from one people to another. There is widespread confirmation of this view in recent works on social psy- chology, in contrast with the contention of Platt and others that sympathy is at the root of all group consciousness. Ellwood insists especially on the inter-relatedness of imi- tation, suggestion, sympathy, communication, and other types of interstimulation and response. It is not suggestion which distinguishes man from the higher animals, but the larger use which men in groups make of these intra-mental activities in relation to conceptual processes. None of the types can be understood alone. Imitation is mediatory of both instinct and habit, it is a type of mental interstimula- tion and response, tending to uniformity of activity among interacting individuals. Suggestion tends toward intel- lectual uniformity in this interactivity, while sympathy tends toward feeling uniformity. All belong together as socially induced activity, cognition, and feeling, although we do not necessarily find the others also where we find one; what does follow is that these processes are continually associated in actual social life. Again, we note that imita- tion may appear either on an instinctive, habitual or ra- tional plane. So too suggestion operates both in connection with "all of the great subconscious tendencies of original or acquired human nature, ' ' and as a form of interstimula- tion between individuals in an intellectual way. Imitation and Culture.-Wissler has recently gener- alized human culture with reference to the prime results of anthropology, in terms of the culture traits, or units of tribal culture, and the chains of activities which he sum- marizes under the head of the trait-complex. Trait-com- plexes are said to adhere, for all have much in common, al- though cultures differ in their content; and so tribal cul- ture has a pattern involving, for example, speech, material traits, art, mythology, religious practices, family and social systems, property, government, and war, in a general cul- ture scheme. Our real interest in culture centers about the way in which a group produces it. Imitation is the means 422 Social Psychology by which traits of culture are acquired, for instance, when Japan adopts the movies, and otherwise follows Western civilization. Fundamentally, imitation is a natural instinctive process, inherent in man; but it may also be rationalized, as in de- liberate copying or borrowing. We are apt to regard a nation like Japan as inferior because it borrows and copies, but we are all largely imitators. The prevailing mode of acquiring culture has always been to imitate the traits of other people. It is nature's economy. Without the imita- tive function it is difficult to imagine how man could have had a culture at all. Wissler admits that anthropologists are in the broad sense behaviorists; they deal with objective phenomena, show contempt for consciousness, and rational interpretations of man's acts. He quotes Lowie as declaring in his Culture and Ethnology, that the principles of psychology are "as incapable of accounting for the phenomena of culture as is gravitation to account for architectural styles. ' '8 That is, anthropologists are "hard-headed empiricists," with no in- terest in the rational control of culture process. Neverthe- less, Wissler, setting a much better example, ventures not only to attribute imitation to instinct; but he introduces the general conception of man's inborn equipment, the equip- ment by which man functions as member of a tribal group, what is innate in man being "his equipment for culture." There is in brief, he says, "a social drive in man to build culture," a universal pattern for culture. The drives which form part of man's native equipment urge him to invent, to tell something, to be with his fellows. Without this hypothesis Wissler thinks it would be difficult to ac- count for the uniformity observable in culture. Thus Wissler, by adopting Wood worth's theory of the "drive," opens the way for a really psychological explanation of cultural forms, and attributes new importance to imitation. Social Suggestion.-We have noted that suggestion in all its forms is accepted in an uncritical way, and carried out almost mechanically by mental and motor automatisms. s Clark Wissler, Man and Culture, 1923, p. 252. Imitation and Suggestion 423 It is of course reacted upon or transformed unwittingly, so that it is really accepted and made auto-suggestion, al- though this may mean the overcoming of the subject's op- position, circumventing his objections in cases where the suggestion is put over by a therapeutist or a salesman, who sees to it that no contrary ideas rise into the custom- er's mind. A suggestion in this sense of the word is al- ways an insinuation which succeeds despite the mind's in- hibitions. But we need not place so much stress on the successive stages by which suggestion attains its end in social life as in the case of psychotherapy, wdiere the oper- ator follows definite steps to gain the attention of his sub- ject, convey an idea, and force it home. In the general sense of suggestibility as a characteristic of human nature, man normally responds to suggestion as he does to imita- tion as a factor in many processes. The influence of sug- gestion is seen all along the line, from a mere hint which the mind takes on in a simple or superficial way to the pro- founder influences of the social atmosphere or mental en- vironment in which we are reared and to which we conform from earliest childhood. If we agree that ' ' suggestibility is the cement of the herd, the very soul of the primitive social group," we follow the clue which Sidis throws out, and regard the socially gre- garious self as habitually suggestible. That is to say, the animal mind is likely to be called into exercise by the crowd, so that we drop our usual inhibitions, customs, convention- alities, and conform to the suggestion of the excited hour. This is the concealed phase of personality which popular speech has long described as the "barbarian" underneath the surface of civilization's polished appearances. This phase of unregenerate human nature is well in hand in the most of us. But it is not by any means sublimated, as ex- ceptional occasions and wars show most plainly. We scarcely know how far we have gone in the process of sub- limating it until, perchance, something in the nature of a sudden social suggestion takes us unawares. Herd sug- gestion is a constant factor in social life. We are all the while receiving it, as the basis of our close similarity in 424 Social Psychology thought and belief; as supplying the mass opinions taken on but not thought out by the individual. This being so, when an untoward event breaks into the herd it may cause a stampede by the process of suggestion; since we all have within us these primitive, elemental impulses likely to rise into action on provocation. Intellect and Suggestion.-Our education in the schools and churches has led us to regard the self as essentially in- tellectual. At school the intellect is trained as the standard by which to judge all information, knowledge, belief; and the cultures of the past are estimated by intellectual stand- ards. At church we are taught doctrines which we are expected to adopt as the foundations of moral and spiritual judgment. The self is eulogized as intellect, and so we fall into the assumption that whatever we believe we have taken on through acts of intelligence, as instincts, emotions, de- sires are supposed to have had nothing whatever to do with what we adopt by way of moral conviction or religious be- lief. But, it might be said that suggestion as an agent, in- fluencing us unwittingly, has been constantly applied to us in instilling into us our beliefs. Psychology shows us that it is suggestion, appealing to the emotions, wThich wins its way. It is disposition, desire, habit that is appealed to; the influences of the crowd in general, the group, the cult, the social set or class which brings about the social changes which we supposed were so simple that intellect alone accounted for them. When we em- phasize the intellect we are apt to think of the individual as if he existed by himself. Hence many of the artificial prob- lems which individualists raise. Social psychology brings us back to the fact long ago made so plain by Aristotle that man is a social animal. Starting aright, with the herd or group, with gregariousness in all its forms, we find our- selves thinking in radically different terms. We then look upon the individual as inseparable, in thought, language, custom, belief, modes of reaction from the social atmosphere which steadily influences him. To account for the conflicts which the individual suffers, we no longer begin with the individual's interests, not even the sexual instinct regarded Imitation and Suggestion 425 as stored away in the mere individual. Instead, we start with the fact that the group, cherishing traditions, impos- ing a code, reaches out with its regulatory suggestions; then we have an intelligible way to account for the manifold in- hibitions which come about within the individual. This ap- proach does not mean slighting the intellect, as if it were inconsequential, as if it were not the principle of judgment; but that the intellect develops later, acquires its language by imitation, is stimulated by suggestion, while self-con- sciousness itself, with its analyses, begins in an imitative way. Educating by Suggestion.-Horne reminds us that "the one general principle for securing a conscious act is, arouse the mental state that means that act. ' ' 9 When we wish to arouse this mental state without arousing any inhibiting mental state that would delay or prevent the act in ques- tion, we use suggestion. Knowing well that man is emo- tional we therefore appeal to the emotions to win our way. Everybody does this, just as we first invite a man to dine in sumptuous fashion, and when he is in good humor bring forward our scheme. Thus we tacitly admit the power of suggestion. "By suggestion, customs, fashions and fads pass through a school like wind-made waves over a grain- field. ' ' In this way the crowd follows the leader, the timid individual is won over, and matters are carried through to success. The "impressionable age" with every one is in reality the suggestible age. Suggestion is introduced into education (1) where the pupil could not rightly estimate the motives in deliberation, and (2) where it is important that he should do the right thing, but not important that he should be able to give a reason for so doing. Hence educational suggestions are made indirect and positive, with a view to liberating the child's will. "From the attractiveness of the forbidden fruit in Eden down to the events of any modern nursery, human nature reveals a curious bent toward what it is not permitted to have. Its assertiveness seems to appear just 9 H. H. Horne, The Psychological Principles of Education, 1906, p. 284. 426 Social Psychology at the point of repression. Forbid one person the company of another, and straightway that other becomes an essen- tial to life's happiness. . . . This weakness in human nature is often preyed upon by teachers and parents when they get children to do what they want them to do by for- bidding them those very things. . . . Under such a treat- ment a child becomes a habitual cross-patch, to whom everything permitted is distasteful, and everything for- bidden is delightful."10 Naturally then suggestion when wdsely used is affirmative or constructive, avoids references of a painful nature, those leading to contrary suggestions, and those that tend to over-excitement. Constructive Suggestion.-The use of suggestion as an uplifting social influence has been long delayed through ig- norance of such facts as we have dwelt on in studying man's deeper nature, whether called unconscious or unruly; through the prevalence of conventions which have for- bidden references to the elemental or sexual; and because people have not even recognized the effect of negative sug- gestions. The typical temperance reformer of the last generation sought to overcome the drink-habit by portray- ing in vividly realistic terms the horrors of the evil he was trying to destroy, unaware of the fact that he was all the while using negative suggestion, unmindful too of the fact that man (still a child) wants what he is prohibited from having. Realism has prevailed in the press, on the stage, in the novel and during recent years on the screen. The short story, the drama and the film-play appeal to the emotions, and thereby suggest to the spectator whatever his mind is equipped to contribute. It is customary to dwell on the darker or negative side of life. Hence negative suggestions often prevail. On the other hand, taking full account of the suggesti- bility of human nature, and avoiding detrimental sugges- tions, parents, teachers, and moral leaders have an un- limited opportunity in the inculcation of constructive sug- gestions. Suggestion, regarded as a perfectly normal proc- ess, may be used for the benefit of society, as it is employed 10 Ibid., p. 287. Imitation and Suggestion 427 in the schools by teachers equipped with sound psychological knowledge. It is not when thus used an insinuating proc- ess, employed to put something over, as in the case of the salesman who is determined to sell his goods even though he doubts their value, the lawyer endeavoring to win his point when he knows it is not a good one, or the politician resort- ing to trickery; but is adapted to man as he is and where he is, as a member of the herd. Thus suggestion may be lifted from what the psychoanalysts call the unconscious to the level of the conscious. As matter of fact, this amounts to a change of emphasis. We all know that we are in- fluenced. We all exert influence, and our greatest influence springs from what we are consciously pursuing, what we love or care for most. But we have been under the miscon- ception that the intellectual factor was far more potent than it actually was, that the process of influence was simple. Putting the emphasis where it belongs, we may more wit- tingly use suggestion to arouse those actions of which we ethically approve. Summary.-It is not gratifying to our pride to be told that imitation plays a highly influential part all along the line of our mental and social life. We like to dwell on our individuality or originality. But analysis shows that our activities begin with imitation, even in the arts and in self-consciousness. Thought is to a large extent imitative of things, actions, men; and imitation aids in the process of mental organization. Society assimilates the contribu- tions of individuals and passes them on by imitation. Imi- tation is a prime condition of mental life. It is inter-re- lated with suggestion, sympathy, and other factors, and should be investigated in connection with these. Sugges- tion runs all through our social life, and is the main in- fluence in many group activities. It is to be understood and given full recognition on its negative or detrimental side, since man needs to become aware of the fact that he is influenced in large measure by herd suggestion. On its nether side it wins its appeal by devious ways despite in- hibitions. It also has a positive, constructive side, as seen in education in ideal influences. Realism shows the power 428 Social Psychology of the instincts and emotions, the elemental. But every man must be appealed to where he is, as the salesman sizes up his customer, adapts his procedure to the customer's type, and works for the purchase of his goods. Man is primarily an active being. Suggestion is a way of secur- ing appropriate actions. Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, 1917, Chap. X. McDougall, W., Social Psychology, 1921, pp. 104, 105, 333. Bogardus, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, Chaps. VI-VIII. Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, Chap. IV. Wissler, C., Man and Culture, 1923, pp. 74, 102; Part III. Horne, II. H., Psychological Principles of Education, 1906, Chap. XXV. REFERENCES CHAPTER XXVII SYMPATHY AND LOVE The term sympathy is used in a broad sense to mean feeling with another, induced feeling, fellow feeling, that is, "organic sympathy," which resembles imitation, and involves a reinforcement of uniform activities existing be- cause man lives a social life. In another sense it is used as a collective name for all emotions which accompany altruistic impulses. In this form sympathy is not simply feeling as others do, but is altruistic feeling, or the feeling accompaniment connected with family and group life in general; it accompanies harmonious association, although unreflective in character. A third type is sometimes dis- tinguished as reflective or rational; altruistic feeling guided by reason, the feeling basis of altruism being re- garded as the active expression of sympathy. Origin of Sympathy.-Elements of the sympathy theory of human society have been traced back to Aristotle, and to Jean Bodin (1530-1596), whose theory of the state in- cluded strong emphasis on the family. Adam Smith, in his Theory of the Moral Sentiments, 1759, assigns the first place to sympathy, with special reference to pity or com- passion, "the emotion which we feel for the misery of others, when we either see it, or are made to conceive it in a very lively manner." We enter into sympathy with others by aid of the imagination, through which we bring another's miseries home to ourselves; an "analogous emo- tion" springs up at the thought of another's situation. Sympathy arises from our view of the situation which excites it. This sympathy is not reducible to mere self- love, but is a genuine, natural feeling for others: it is the great precept of nature to love ourselves only as we love our neighbor, or ... as our neighbor is capable of loving 429 430 Social Psychology us." Smith makes sympathy the basis of a complete ethical doctrine on the ground that when we bring matters home to ourselves we either can or can not entirely sym- pathize with the sentiments and motives which actuated the conduct in question. So we either approve or dis- approve of our own conduct, according as we feel, when we place ourselves in the situation of another man, and view it, as it were, with his eyes, from his station, that we either can or can not enter into and sympathize with the sentiments and motives which influenced it. Smith here gives full recognition to behavior as a sign of conduct, but he does not stop with behavior, since the real consider- ation is the sentiment we feel and the judgment we pass. Psychologists give attention to sympathy in a more re- stricted sense as one of the sentiments only, as a factor in maintaining social order, also a factor in social progress. Sympathy as like-mindedness leads people to unite, this common element implies gregariousness, and in this sense sympathy implies the basis of society as a whole. Sym- pathy is not only the sentiment which draws people to- gether in small groups, but is the motive which attracts people together in crowds, through mutual sentiments in favor of a certain "cause," principle or movement. It has been called the cement in all mass formation. If sym- pathy is interpreted in terms of behavior or brain and nerve "patterns" (Platt), it is said that mutual action results from response to similar patterns, as when we see a man facing and approaching danger and draw back with him, when we see some straining to lift a great weight, and our owrn bodies share somewhat in the effort.1 Thus we copy the positions of the one with whom we are conversing; he crosses his knees, and we cross ours; he looks out of the window, and we do the same. The pat- terns here set in motion are said to be the simple nerve patterns possessed by us all in common. McDougall seeks light on the nature of sympathy by noting its place among gregarious animals, as an aid in the struggle for existence, for example, the spread of fear 1 Op. cit., Chap. VII. Sympathy and Love 431 and its flight impulse among members of a flock or herd.2 Sympathy of this sort is that which binds animal societies together, renders the actions of all members of a group harmonious, and allows them to have some of the advan- tages of social life. To say that this union is due to instinct is not enough. There must be a special perceptual inlet adapted to receive and elaborate the sense-impressions made by the expressions of the same instinct in other animals of the same species. The Basis of Sympathy.-Human sympathy has its roots then in similar specializations of instinctive dispositions on their afferent sides, as witnessed in the case of little children in a sympathetic induction of emotion and feeling at an age when they do not yet understand the meaning of the expressions which evoke these reactions, e.g., wailing, in other children. So fear, curiosity, anger, laughter, may spread in immediate and unrestrained responsiveness to the emotional expressions of others. We witness the spread of painful emotion, terror, curiosity, and other emotions among adults; each of the great primary emotions has its characteristic expression capable of being excited by way of this immediate sympathetic response. Sympathy then is founded on "a special adaptation of the receptive side of each of the principal instinctive dispositions." Active sympathy, as analyzed by McDougall, differs from simple, primitive sympathy, also from tender emo- tion and pity, often confused in popular speech and by psychologists with sympathy. A sentiment of love may be present without sympathy, although active sympathy, except in the case of parental love, is the most sure foun- dation for love. The sharing of our emotion also intensifies painful emotions, anger, revenge, fear, pity: the gregari- ous instinct supplemented by others is the reason. Active sympathy may be egoistic, a seeking of one's own satis- faction, a demand put upon others which is often most wearing. Some men constantly demand sympathy and give but little. Sympathy then is not the root of altruism. Definition.-Hence sympathy may be defined as "the 2 Social Psychology, p. 95. 432 Social Psychology tendency to share in rhe expressed feelings of another, and to invite his expression of fellow-feeling, so as to secure an agreeable consciousness of unity of feeling" (Sully). To sympathize is to put one's self with appropriate imagi- nation in another's emotional state; hence it directs itself alike to such dissimilar feelings as fear and aesthetic en- thusiasm, is a great supporter and enlarger of the indi- vidual's emotional experience as a whole, in adding to our joys, in determining and measuring the range of our affective consciousness, in increasing cultural appreciation. "Friendship-of the old-fashioned warm and intimate sort -owes much of its educative value to the habitual ex- change of ideas and sentiments, by which unpleasant ec- centricities get worn down, points of disagreement become enlightened and respected, and a valuable central core of common tastes, likes and dislikes established." A com- plete development of the sympathies implies a certain equilibrium between (1) intellectual sympathy or under- standing: (2) emotional sympathy; and (3) active or practical sympathy.3 One's range of sympathies, then, is "a measure of his personality, indicating how much or how little of a man he is. It is in no way a special faculty, but a function of the whole mind to which every special faculty contrib- utes, so that what a person is and what he can understand or enter into through the life of others, are very much the same thing. " 4 A sympathetic person is not then one who has little mental power, is sensitive or impressionable; for this sort of sympathy implies mental defect, lack of character, and constructive power. "A strong, deep un- derstanding of other people implies mental energy and stability; it is the work of persistent, cumulative imagi- nation." It is a requisite social power, involving "ad- dress," savoir faire, tact, insight, a kindred spirit. It is selective, through imagination and feeling; an act of communication, hence a particular aspect of the whole which we call society. 3 Teacher's Handbook, pp. 421, 423. * C. H. Cooley, Human Nature and the Social Order, p. 106. Sympathy and Love 433 Altruism and Sympathy.-Ellwood classifies the earlier or "organic sympathy," the "contagion of feeling," with the suggestion-imitation process, as a relatively simple type of mental interaction between the individuals and a group.5 Thus far it is only a psychic instrument which functions to maintain and develop group life. If we re- gard sympathy in more highly developed form as the equivalent of altruistic feeling, we should note that it is a name for a group of emotions, pre-eminently "the social emotion," perhaps; but not yet reflective. It is a still more developed or rational form that is eligible in build- ing up altruism. It would be a mistake to regard all sympathy as due to reflection, as if it were "a rational faculty," as Ward maintains. Sympathy surely plays a part in the development of altruism, although it is not its original spring. In brief, "sympathy is the feeling side of altruism, and altruism is the active expression of sympathy" (in the sense of feeling for others). Hence in its development sympathy ceases to be mainly egoistic. There is an altruistic impulse implanted by natural selec- tion. The egoistic element seems indeed to be very large when sympathy becomes reflective. But the original in- stinctive basis, favorable to others, is an active factor. In actual experience we find that the reflective trend of sympathy is altruistic rather than egoistic. Hence Ell- wood notes, finally, that sympathetic emotion is a very im- portant element in reinforcing action favorable to others. The trend is toward solidarity and good-will. If we would cultivate a good-will as broad as humanity, the development of intelligent sympathy is an essential. Such sympathy is not the same as Giddings's "consciousness of kind," which means "organic sympathy," the perception of resemblance, conscious or reflective sympathy, affection, and the desire for recognition. The sympathetic or social states of mind involving "consciousness of kind" include only one side of the social life. Charity and Sympathy.-Discussing charity as an illus- tration of sympathy in human society, Ellwood notes its 6 Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 245, 434 Social Psychology far-reaching influence in helping people who are out of adjustment with society, in helping the weak, hence as functioning for the increase both of the solidarity and the efficiency of social groups; but charity also illustrates the limitations of sympathy as an instrument for bringing about the highest type of social adjustments. Unwise charity may lead to grave evils in society, may perpetuate the degraded and the unfit, encourage the weak and worth- less ; may, unless controlled by reason, produce more misery in society than it can relieve. It is a question of the causes of human misery and of their removal. The causes known, sympathy will have a higher work to perform in securing good-will, in the reciprocal conferring of bene- fits; otherwise the cohesive power of the group might be lost, morality could not exist without it: altruistic feeling reinforces the sense of moral obligation. Justice and Sympathy.-It has been maintained that justice, as well as altruism, originates in sympathy; on the ground that a feeling of suffering, of pain, or pleasure, gives rise to a sentiment of justice. We believe a thing is right or wrong concerning ourselves, and the same feelings are extended to our fellows. We wish to measure them by the same rule by which we measure ourselves. The feeling that injustice is done an individual is followed by a sentiment of resentment against it. If he observes the same act toward any one of his fellows the same feeling of resentment is aroused. Thus justice has its origin in fellow feeling.6 But this is the conclusion of a sociologist who assures us that there is no natural justice but the law of force: in a state of egoistic struggle for existence in which might makes right, the individual gets and keeps what he can, until sympathy intervenes. Other writers show that virtue in the sense of loyalty, honesty, veracity, justice, is an actual factor of great power in binding men harmoniously together; hence that a moral code or stand- ard as a basis of the social order is a fact which the social psychologist must take into account (Ellwood). Society is "Humanity viewed from the standpoint of its reciprocal 6 F. W. Blackmar, The Elements of Sociology, 1905, p. 166. Sympathy and Love 435 relations." So far as psychology tends to show the solu- tion of the problem of justice, it points the way to pro- found study of these relations with due regard for both egoistic promptings and sympathetic emotions. The Social Self.-Our study of imitation, suggestion and sympathy has yielded a view of these fundamental forms of mental interaction, with reference to the assimi- lation by the individual of various social states, cognitive, affectional, and conative. It is not the province of psy- chology to develop the distinction between egoism and altruism. Cooley starts with the probability that the "my-feeling" or feeling of self is an instinct which we must postulate as we would start with the taste of salt or color of red as bare fact.7 There is no final test of self save the way we feel, in the "my," attitude. The self- feeling is associated with the idea of power, or purpose- ful activity, also with aggressiveness, appropriativeness, with passionate adolescence and the awareness of sex-dif- ferences. Self-feeling in the larger sense is the mainspring of endeavor throughout life, selfishness (egotism) being a phase of self-assertion regarded as censurable, a phase of self that is obnoxious to us. Notable self-assertion also goes with marked goodness, as in the case of Martin Luther, with his intense self-feeling, resentful of opposition, dog- matic, ambitious: a worthy object may be identified with a vigorous self-feeling. So the idea of a "cause" to be fostered, of the good to be pursued, and the idea of the self become interchangeable. Every cherished idea is a self, in every kind of production a person needs to under- stand and believe in himself, the more thoroughly the better, that he may be free from the whimsical, the imi- tative. Thus Shakespeare says that self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting. A culpable sort of self-dread- ing cowardice would be an instance of self-neglecting. We note then the influence of vanity, uncertainty, mortification (foreseen and shunned), secretiveness, and self-cherishing. There is no conflict between desirable self-consciousness and disinterestedness. There may be self-abandonment 7 Op. cit.. Chap. V. 436 Social Psychology and self-forgetting at times. "But there would be no production, no high thought or noble action, if we relied entirely upon these impassioned moments without pre- paring ourselves for them." We need both insight (momentary) and the self-conscious endeavor that pre- cedes it. Pride is the form which self-approval takes in the more rigid or self-sufficient sort of mind. Common sense approves of a just mingling of deference and self- poise in the attitude of one man toward others. There is room for resentment, humility, emulation, ambition, honor, even pride and vanity in moderation. Emulation.-Emulation, in Cooley's analysis, includes (1) conformity, the endeavor to maintain a standard set by a group, voluntary imitation of prevalent modes of action, cooperation which economizes energy through imi- tation in dress, manners, household arrangements. Emu- lation is thus seen in relation to non-conformity as also a native impulse: "every variant idea of conduct has to fight its way. "8 " It is best that each should originate where he is specially fitted to do so, and follow others where they are better qualified to lead." We acquire our standards as selected and systematized outcome of the past. Non-conformity is normal and complementary, in the fluctuations between stability and change, uniformity versus differentiation. (2) Rivalry, a competitive striv- ing urged on by the desire to win; the impelling idea is usually a sense of what other people are doing and think- ing; a strong sense that there is a race going on. (3) Hero-worship is also a motive, an emulation that strives to imitate some desired character with loyal enthusiasm. Love.-Cooley gives much attention to the close rela- tionship between sympathy and love. Although not de- pendent upon any particular emotion, and compatible with hostility, sympathy is intimately akin to kindliness, and the excitant of love in all its finer aspects is "a dawning of sympathetic renewal." We grow by influence, and when we feel an enlarging or uplifting influence we begin to love. Love usually accompanies the healthy expansion of 8 Ibid., Chap. VIII, Sympathy and Love 437 human nature by communion; in turn it is the stimulus to more communion. Love and sympathy are very commonly found together, each being an instigator of the other. In the sense of kindly sympathy, love may have all degrees of emotional intensity and of sympathetic penetration, as a general outflowing of the mind and heart, accompanied by the gladness which the most complete life carries. Types of Love.-In other chapters we have taken ac- count of the psychoanalytic emphasis on the sexual instinct as a factor in producing conflict within the individual. Here we are concerned with the fact that the sexual instinct is the coordinating basis between dif- ferent relationships: sexual love, marriage, and the family. Sex attraction is one of the great primary forces in society, about which social life centers to a large extent. On account of the difficulties in controlling this force, its influence is seen in custom, law, moral precepts, and reli- gious sanctions. The parental instinct gives stability to the family, is its real foundation; it leads to many social coordinations, for instance, in connection with instincts for self-defense, sociability, loyalty to one's group. It involves paternal love and maternal love, the latter being stronger than the former.9 Ellwood suggests that the relation of instinct to other elements in the mental and social life will be the better understood if we bear in mind that the "whole emotional life is instinctive.10 Love and hate, fear and trust, and all the other emotions are simply feeling-sensation complexes attached to hereditary reac- tions-although not all instincts have attached to them distinct emotions. What we call the 'passions' are simply the human instincts with their attendant emotions, roused to such a point that the intellect no longer has full control. Obviously the strongest 'desires' expressed by men are expressions of their instincts; for the desires which are the results of acquired habits are, except late in life, com- paratively feeble in their intensity, as compared with those which spring from the native impulses." 9 Ellwood, Sociology in its Psychological Aspects, pp. 213, foil. 323. Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 193. 438 Social Psychology Ell wood finds the basis of ethical love (love of human- ity) in the sentiments developed on the basis of rational sympathy, the sentiments which have played a conspicuous part in alleviating misery and opening the doors of op- portunity in civilized society. The increase of sympathy and altruism in these higher forms is without doubt the surest guarantee of continued progress and ultimate social adjustment among all classes, nations, races. In Chris- tianity, the sympathies and sentiments natural to the family group have been made the standard for moral and social practice; the bonds of sympathy, love, and altruism have become the ideal bonds which should unite all hu- manity.11 Self-Love.-In several connections we have found that psychologists do not confirm the presupposition which so long prevailed, that self-love implying egoism and, later, selfishness, is the original disposition of the human self. While this was the assumption in ethics and religion, the great problem was to know how to make the transition from the self with its love of pleasure and its self-interests in general to love of humanity. Religion found no other way out than that of radical regeneration, with the crea- tion of a "new will" through supernatural power. Psy- chology has corrected the whole starting-point by analyz- ing farther back, beginning with the instincts and their attendant emotions, which prove on the whole to be gre- garious (social), with natural promptings leading to altru- ism. This does not mean the discounting of self-love or the minimizing of selfishness. The facts of human history and of human nature today remain as before. But self- love is seen in connection with the other forms of love, all of which have played their part in relation, man having been a social being from the beginning. Self-love in some sense of the term is essential to the welfare and develop- ment of the individual. In Cooley's clear-cut analysis, love in relation to self, is (1) mingled with self-feeling, or (2) is a disinterested joy in which all sense of private existence is lost. Tbe ii Ibid., pp. 260, 261. Sympathy and Love 439 love that appropriates, strives, and plans is always in some degree self-love; self-feeling is correlated with individu- alized, purposeful thought and action; resentment, pride, and fear readily enter in. Cooley holds that these two kinds of love are properly complementary: self-love cor- responds to production, gives each of us a specialized in- tensity and effectiveness; the other sort brings enlarge- ment and relief. Harmful self-love is the sort that has hardened about a particular object and ceased to expand. Yet power to enter into universal life depends upon a healthy development of the special self. The main thing is to bring out the vital unity of every phase of personal life, from the simplest interchange of a friendly word to the policy of nations or of hierarchies. As Personal Attitude.-Miss Calkins, as we have noted above, calls attention to the fact that emotion is, " first and foremost, an intensely individualizing experience. In loving and fearing I am conscious of myself as this self and no other; and I am, furthermore, conscious of the individual and unique nature of the friend whom I love or of the superior whom I fear. "12 It is failure to recognize the characteristic of love insisted on which accounts for some of the strange social reactions against love at the present time. On account of the prevalence of certain types of socialism and communism interpreted as involv- ing internationalism, especially since the outbreak of the World War, we find people reacting against patriotism on the ground that one should love all mankind equally well. But the partisans of this doctrine overlook the fact that what they are espousing is love of a certain class only; while hating other classes, especially the capitalist class, the aristocrats, the intellectuals the world over. When the Germans reached the limit of hating England, as the war drew to its close, they presently turned about and hated France; since France blocked the way for militarist self-recovery and entered the Ruhr. Hate must have its individualized object as surely as love. We do not love in general or hate at random. We might indeed love 12 First Boole in Psychology, p. 180. 440 Social Psychology humanity as men and women, above race or color; but if psy- chology is any clue at all such love would proceed from the particular to the general by increasing its individua- tions, not by abandoning the particular and loving at large. Miss Calkins notes the objection sometimes raised that patriotism is referred to as an instance of love of a group or class, rather than as an individual. But it is important to distinguish between the generalized class, formed by abstraction, and the social group which is individualized, conceived or treated as an individual. Patriotism then is not, as some have assumed, love of the generalized group of beings possessed of American or Spanish characters; it is love of the individualized community of which the single Americans or Spaniards are members. I may feel love or hate toward such a group, but never toward a merely general class.13 So in loving humanity one would begin by loving one's own community the better, and such love would not call for hatred toward all save those pos- sessing a certain form of class consciousness. To "make the world safe for democracy" one would, as an American, make it safer for Americans; one would not abandon love for America as a country, to take up love for mankind in general. The Prevailing Love.-We have found reason a number of times to mention the "ruling passion," "ruling love," or "dominant sentiment" (Shand), which underlies many other motives. Abundant recognition is given in popular fiction and poetry to the fact that there is a ruling passion. Yet the significance of it seems to escape us. It should be obvious that whether a man admits it to others or not, he proceeds in his amours, avocations, in all his interests, his choice of a wife, the adoption of a creed, the espousing of a cause or his reaction against causes, because of a pre- vailing love. This fact means that love in one form or another is the deepest motive in human nature, not alone in woman, whose nature is love, but in man, who as un- mistakably responds to love as a motive, although he may is Ibid., p. 181. Sympathy and Love 441 be less emotional and sometimes much less personal than woman. Psychologically speaking, this means the primacy of the will from start to finish in human life; for what we love we pursue, we will to attain, and love and will are in many ways practically indentical-a truth which many miss altogether. In the world of philosophical thought it has been clear since Plato's time that love is the one great motive which sends us forth into activity; while thought, intellect or reason follows after, formulates love's objects, the highest of these being the Beautiful, the True, and the Good. After a period of dominance of the old faculty psychology, with its over-emphasis on the intellect, psy- chology has been steadily confirming the primacy of the will or love. When we study mental life to discover what element of our nature is central, we find that our consciousness or thought is always tending in some direction, due to our interest or intention, hence to our motive or love. Some of our thought-activities are plainly more fundamental than others, but "as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." There are various affections, but these may be re- duced to two types. The ruling love may be for self, namely, to "get" all one can, through regard for what is one's own (proprium), with emphasis on the "me," the "mine." Sully calls this the "egoistic feeling," for example, with reference to exploits in games, the peacock and turkey attitude (lordly triumph), bragging, boasting, love of approbation, regard for what others say. The Two Loves.-In other phases, we find it as regard for one's self and one's honor in the world; love of reward and merit; fear of the law and loss of reputation. In con- trast with this self-love, we find regard for justice, honesty, truth; obedience to religious sanctions, with conscience ruling; in brief, love toward the neighbor and love of God. These two are perpetually in contrast in human experience. All love tends to be the one or the other. A man is in reality what his ruling love is, whatever the appearances, even when he seems to be successfully serving two masters. In religious terms, every man has a "proprium" or 442 Social Psychology "own" which he loves above all things; and "such as the love is, such is the life"-as many people recognize to-day who once thought a man's creed was the dominant factor by which he is to be known. That which universally rules or is dominant in man is in every particular of his life, thus in each and all things of his thought and affection. This dominant love is his very will, and the end of his life; for every man really pursues an end. Hence it is the quality of his love which determines the quality of each man's life, the delights which he seeks, the joys which to him are supreme. A man admits power into his life according to his love. He is free or not with respect to his love. Since love is his very life or will it is derivatively his thought, and so his action or conduct, the purpose by which he determines his life in so far as he has power of choice. Love then forms the man according to its own image, as we often notice in observing faces. He who loves himself more than his neighbor, leads himself; but he who loves goodness, is led by goodness. It might be said that self-love is really not love at all, but self-centeredness, absorption in personal desire; since it is the essence of love not to love self, but to love others, and to be conjoined with others by love. Indeed, love may be said to consist in this, that its own should be another's, to feel the joy of another as in one's self. In the history of thought we find abundant confirmation of this distinc- tion. There is eros, which is for self, there is "passion," and there is selfishness; while on the other hand there is sympathy, altruistic sentiment which seeks another's good. Yet love is interpenetrative, it is manifold; its varieties are endless. Love is what distinguishes man from man. Every man is his own love. It is not the understanding or intellect which makes the man, for the selective prin- ciple is his type of love, the combination of qualities and affections which love through individuality takes in him. There appears to be no psychological justification for sundering "self-love" from love and calling it something else; for as we have noted above, the sexual instinct is a Sympathy and Love 443 coordinating instinct out of which various forms of affec- tional relationship develop. Love Is Dynamic.-Love is at once consanguinious and much more. It is psycho-physical, but also ethical. We are not here primarily concerned with ethical distinctions, but with the psychological truth that there is a prevailing love which makes the man. Love is inseparable from the other qualities and characteristics. It passes through various forms and becomes more intimately allied with what we call "wisdom," just as we have noted that sym- pathy passes from a non-intellectual to a rational stage and becomes identified with selected altruistic sentiments. Will apart from understanding can not think anything, nor can it see or feel anything. Love is the dynamic with which things are done, hence is to be understood in connection with the "drive" on which Woodworth has insisted. The drive or elan vital is merely general unless we look farther back to see what gives it content and sig- nificance. We have found too that habit, despite Dewey's capital analysis of it, is insufficient by itself to account for social life. We may indeed find ourselves still doing things for no better assignable reason than the fact that we always have done them, so far as we can recall. So as we proceed we shall in succeeding chapters place much emphasis on fashion, tradition, custom, public opinion, all of which are matters of habit with us. But originally there was a reason. Man is by nature instinctive and emotional, with a disposition making for intelligence which does not have much recognition in early stages of mental development; and the central instincts and emotions make for love. To recognize the fact that he responds wittingly or unwittingly to a prevailing love is for man to find a light cast on his nature that is really fundamental. He might well ask himself, as consequence, What prevailing love is then truly worth while? The answer lies outside of our present investigation. But great light is thrown on our central inquiry when we look underneath imitation, social suggestion, sympathy, to see what the real dynamic is. 444 Social Psychology REFERENCES Ellwood, C. A., Sociology in its Psychological Aspects, 1912, Chap. XIV; pp. 213, 323 (bibliography); Introd, to Social Psychology, 1917, Chap. XI. Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, Chap. VII. McDougall, W., Social Psychology, 1921, Chaps. X. XV. Sully, J., Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, 5th ed., 1910, Chap. XVI. Cooley, C. H., Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902, Chaps. IV-VI, VIII. Blackmar, F. W., Elements of Sociology, 1905, p. 166. Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, 1914, Chap. XI. CHAPTER XXVIII CUSTOM AND TRADITION In our first study of suggestion we noted its influence within the individual, in relation to abnormal states of the brain, deficiency of knowledge, the emotions, and other states which favor the transformation of hetero-suggestion into auto-suggestion. Then we considered the place of suggestion in success in advertising and business. To consider suggestion as a social force is to place less em- phasis on subjective factors, to take note of its sources, the impressiveness of social influences in general, the tendency to be socially imitative in accordance with habit, prestige; to bear in mind that suggestion is a phenome- non of the crowd spirit, in the case of emotional religious revivals, for instance. Hence we note, with Ross, that social suggestion, in contrast with impulse, is "an influ- ence reaching us from without, as a true force tending to enact itself unless resisted, inhibited. ' '1 Since suggesti- bility increases in a crowd, we chronicle the fact that it is a powerful condition of man's social make-up without dwelling on the qualification that the individual tends either to inhibit or to transform suggestion. Whether we approve or not, man as a social being is imitative, subject to suggestion; suggestion-imitation phenomena find emo- tional reinforcement; habit everywhere enters in; man is to a large extent actuated by motives of whose origin and content he is mostly unaware. Even when prompted by sympathy and love, man may be little conscious of the way his motives affect him. Habit so enters into his re- sponses to social appeals that oftentimes it is more a ques- tion of habit than of the motive which has found expres- 1 Social Psychology, Chap II. 445 446 Social Psychology sion through conventional forms. This prepares us for a study of custom and tradition. Custom.-Platt describes custom as dependent on man's tendency to repeat acts which once have been found to work satisfactorily, the unsuccessful attempts being aban- doned, the successful secured through habit; and extended into the group by imitation, also enlarged upon by sym- bolism, which wanes while custom continues.2 Thus cus- toms once good may become antiquated, even obstructive. Sully also points to the principle of habituation as tend- ing to set up custom, notably with reference to the hedonic standard for estimating feeling. Ellwood sees in the con- tinuity of acquired habit from generation to generation the source of custom.3 This process of transmission is made certain by the pressure of various agencies of social control, as in the case of children, compelled by discipline to acquire the habits of their elders. The process is not to be understood, however, apart from communication and tradition; for the child is born into a relatively definite social organization, his capacity to form habits being the condition of his taking on modes of conduct from the group and continuing its social life. Hence custom, with heredity, has always been the main physiological basis of social continuity. Sources of Custom.-Dewey, as we have noted, objects to the view that individual habits consolidate to form Custom; instead, custom is due to ways of behavior, e.g., hunger, fear, sexual love, gregariousness, sympathy, pa- rental love, imitation, so that custom (collective habit) is the starting-point, supplies the standard for social activ- ity.4 Customs, as wide-spread uniformities of habit, exist because individuals face the same situation and react in like fashion. To a large extent custom is persistent be- cause individuals form their personal habits under condi- tions set by prior customs. An individual thus acquires the morality of a group as he does its speech. The activ- 2 The Psychology of Social Life, Chap. III. 3 Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 127. 4 Human Nature and Conduct, Chap. IV. Custom and Tradition 447 ities of the group being already in process, he readily assimilates his acts to their pattern. If he acquires a measure of individuality, it is by deliberate assertion of himself against an existing custom. The main point in Dewey's theory is that customs are due to more or less deeply grooved systems of interaction between individuals. Consequently, to explain custom we must start with grouped actions, with a fairly well settled system of interaction, as in the case of impulses to seek food, clothing and shelter in common. Hence it is not so much a question of the way in which collective mind forms customs as of the way different customs form and nurture different minds by interacting arrangements. 4'The inert, stupid quality of current customs perverts learning into a willingness to follow where others point the way, into conformity, constriction, surrender of skep- ticism, experiment. . . . Education becomes the art of taking advantage of the helplessness of the young; the forming of habits becomes a guarantee for the maintenance of hedges of custom."5 Even moral customs, in Dewey's view, are originally folkways, collective habits. It is the essence of routine to insist upon its own continuation: breach of it is violation of right, deviation from it is trans- gression. Implied in this theory of custom is the idea of habit as involving energy organized in certain channels so that, interfered with, it swells into resentment, an avenging force. It would be merely a truism therefore to say that this force will be obeyed, that "custom makes law"; for this simply means that habit is habit. Dewey finds no exception even when the reflective disposition intervenes and establishes a new custom, as in the case of the Greeks; for this disposition is neither self-made nor a gift of the gods, but has been generated out of existing customs through a new group of circumstances. Nor does Dewey attribute any higher origin to moral authority, since in his view it is not a question of conflict between moral authority Qutside custom and one within it, but a contrast 5 Op. cit., p. 64. 448 Social Psychology between more and less intelligent or significant customs.® This view would not be acceptable to ethical idealists, but as psychological description it is doubtless true. Dickinson's analysis of economic motives yields much the same result. Custom, convention, prestige, fashion, imply a power which a group exerts over the choices or acts of its members, by mere social approval, public opin- ion, or uncompelled difference to superior competence.7 Hence custom embraces all the more stable institutions, the physiological inertia of habit being an important element. It is not necessary to look beyond the mechanical nature of habit for an explanation, since the tendency is to go indefinitely in a rut, the habitual response to a given stimulus being always the line of least resistance. Williams adds to the persistence of habit the element of satisfaction which people take in responding to custom.8 The intel- lectual disposition is apt to be weak, hence the tendency to be annoyed by any suggestion of a change of habits, the satisfaction taken in maintaining customs as they are.9 Habituation.-Sully calls attention to the dulling effect of frequent repetition on the pleasant tone of our experi- ences, the gradual diminution of the intensity of conscious- ness, with an adaptation of the nervous structure con- cerned in the particular mode of activity which is being repeated. This principle of accommodation is also ob- servable in the case of repeated unpleasant experiences. With the diminution of the unpleasant feelings, comes the substitution of a pleasant feeling for it, as in the case of acquired likings of the palate, fondness for alcoholic drinks, bitter condiments. The adaptation may even in- volve a strengthening of the organs concerned, as when motor or mental activity, at first unpleasant, grows into enjoyable exercise. What is customary, losing its fresh charm, none the less becomes endeared to us, so that when deprived of it we suffer. So our mentality becomes set in definite lines. 6 Ibid., p. 81. 7 See Economic Motives, p. 208, foil. s Principles of Social Psychology, p. 5. 0 On the question of taboo, see Griffith, Gen. Introd, to Psychol., 1923, p. 209. Custom and Tradition 449 Familiarity.-Thus too the customary may be set up as a hedonic standard for estimating feeling, both pleasant and unpleasant. There is more in this remark of Sully's than at first appears. It opens up the whole question of familiarity with our customs, conventions, beliefs. Be- cause there is a pleasant accompaniment in the recurrence of customs with which we are familiar, we infer that therefore they are right. Accustomed to hearing familiar doctrines set forth in the same terminology, the pleasant- ness which we feel is a sign for contentment; because we are well acquainted with the terms, we infer, if we think at all, that as these terms awaken a hedonic response there- fore the doctrines expressed by them are true. Thus, as philosophers have often said, the name assigned to a thing takes the place of reality. If a teacher appears whose terms are new or strange, we tacitly assume that he must be wrong. We take pleasure in repeating forms of worship which custom has made familiar, and so fa- miliarity adds aesthetic value. We like hymns that are familiar, whatever their antiquated sentiments may be. Conventionality Imitation.-Ellwood distinguishes be- tween custom imitation, as imitation of ancestors, and con- ventionality imitation, as imitation of contemporaries. The latter plays a large part in the unintended, more or less unconscious changes in civilized society. Thus new ideas and inventions or types of behavior are distributed through human groups. Granted the new variations in social activity, many unintended changes in social life forthwith result, as in the case of the introduction of the telephone into families in rural communities with the sub- sequent changes in the life of the group. Such imitation proceeds from the social superior to the social inferior. Standards and ideals may thus work down from a superior few, and become gradually diffused through a group. Rapid changes may also come about from the imitation of a leader, or of the social elite. Fashion.-The reign of fashion is perhaps too obvious to require specific mention, although the fact might be dwelt on that some people, aware of their bondage to fash- 450 Social Psychology ion, are averse to having the fact spoken of, as if they did not wish to have their motives made plain, that is, their ambition to be classed among the elite, their less costly imitation of expensive modes of dress, their effort to put on a convention into which they have not evolved. Fashion involves not only bondages to styles that are most uncomfortable, notably in case of some of the crude cus- toms of semi-civilized people, but servitude to tradition, to those who dominate in the setting of fashions, and those who introduce fashions for purely commercial reasons. When we inquire into the motives, we find that emula- tion enters in to a considerable extent, with a desire for approval from our fellows, particularly our neighbors; an aversion to being regarded as "queer"; and a willing- ness to conform, even to adopt an absurd custom for the sake of avoiding unpleasant attention. It has been said that ' ' one might as well be dead as out of style. ' ' In this way customs have been described by economists as ways of getting what we want, ways of reacting toward the environment such that we make light of the eccentricities of fashion, its bondages, and irrationalities, while still pursuing our rational ends. We accept the custom of giving tips or gratuities as an unwritten law, in some countries. Our expenditures are often regulated by what custom deems proper under certain circumstances. We seek certain incomes to maintain established conventional standards. Bogardus reminds us of the fact that the individual is frequently drawn into the fashion-vortex through fear of social disapproval if he does not conform.10 Large num- bers of people remonstrate against a new fashion, but pres- ently they are seen to have adopted it, because of social pressure unwisely exerted. The desire for individual dif- ferentiation is also gratified through fashions. A new mode, especially in dress, which permits slight variations is at once at a premium. Hence fashion unites although it also separates. It thrives upon novelty, prestige of the new takes on unwonted glamour. io Essentials of Social Psychology, Chap. VIII. Custom, and Tradition 451 Imitation and invention are both necessary antecedents, in Bogardus's view. Every epoch of fashion-imitation is an age of invention. Reputability is an element, current information that people are inventing a new style gives the fashion a first-class endorsement. Fashion thrives too upon the spectacular, on brilliancy, high lights, flash and fire. The commercialized activity of designers and promoters strengthens its reign. Fashion appeals also to freedom under the leadership of new groups. Convention.-Distinguishing between crazes and fads as illustrations of fashion-imitation, and fashion properly so-called, Bogardus defines convention as a fashion which is characterized by wide acceptance. Convention is less universal and less permanent than custom, and is based on prestige and utility. Occasionally a fashion acquires un- usual prestige through extended imitation, and then sinks into blind and widespread acceptance, as in the case of the extraordinarily high heel. So one finds that convention- ality, like custom, reveals servile obedience. There is im- plied in custom-imitation the unconscious acceptance of ideas or ways of doing which develop and spread during an entire generation. As non-competitive and non-delib- erative, custom thus rules with an iron hand. The crust of custom tends to form over the psychic groups. Periodicity.-If custom and convention depend upon imitation and habit, and make for uniformity (Platt), the aim of fashion is to differentiate the individual from the masses, while within the individual's group custom and convention still hold. One wishes to be distinguished but also to keep within one's group. Within our own group we will do as the group does, but by surpassing the group if we can. The true psychological basis of fashion is al- ways the desire to win admiration, since competition, not imitation, is its spirit. In large communities, fashion, in one phase or another, engages much of the public's atten- tion. By no means a trivial thing, it sets our standards in many fields, in morals, in notions of propriety; and it has a real effect on economic interests. The prevailing plays, dances, amusements, may even influence the morals 452 Social Psychology of several generations. They are periodic rather than progressive, however, and may turn in upon themselves. Thus immodesty may alternate with a period of great de- corum in the theater. All fashions are in fact periodic. Fashion breaks with the past and demands that a thing shall be ultra-modern, from the standpoint and memory of the present generation. It is the latest and newest that excite applause. To be "out of date" is to be almost immoral. Fashions must constantly be changed if dis- tinctions are ever to be maintained. It is clear that fash- ions are far from trivial, since they absorb so much time. Social unrest and discontent are in a measure due to the effects, also many of our economic difficulties. Money and labor are diverted from more normal channels; the cost of living and the cost of the necessities becomes greatly increased. Envies and jealousies are also involved. Fashion is self-satisfied, it accepts criticism as covering hidden envy, true admiration. Conformity.-Ellwood places more stress on the factor of imitation in fashion, as the copying of the members of one's group, not for utility but conformity. Fashions in clothing, houses, furniture, behavior, morality, values, ideas, are due to mass-suggestion which presses upon us so that to avoid conformity is difficult. Even when in isolated communities the only fashions are usually the customs of generations, fashion is still imitation on the basis of social conformity. In large communities, where there is emancipation from tradition and custom, and eco- nomic surplus, fashions change with great rapidity. When a fashion or style is generalized in the mass or group, those who attract attention to themselves and maintain social prestige, thereupon change their style of dress and behavior, even their general living, that they may assert their superiority to the mass. Hence we observe the force of the instinct of self-assertion tending to modify the tend- ency toward social conformity. The elite change to declare their superiority, the masses of the group follow; again the elite change the style, and again modes of living in the group change. Much economic and vital waste results, Custom and Tradition 453 also social confusion. The problem how to control fashion- imitation is one of the great issues in Western civilization. But new ideas of great social value, superior social stand- ards, even superior modes of general living may also spread by fashion-imitation. Superior religions, moral codes, artistic productions, and even mechanical inventions thus spread, as they must ordinarily become fashions be- fore they can become embodied in social tradition. Dress.-The effect of the impulse for style is seen in the very great production of goods. There is a general tendency to escape the contempt which people feel for those who are out of style, a rivalrous impulse for superi- ority, ostentation, fostered by the profit-seeking impulse of business men who instigate a rapid change of style in dress so that the great mass of people must discard old things and buy new while the old are still serviceable (Williams). Because the rivalrous impulse for superi- ority by display is one of its motives, style, particularly in dress, exhibits the extreme of behavior characteristic of the rivalrous disposition.11 The Sexual Motive.-Sex differentiation is also a motive (Bogardus).12 Among birds, the female chooses her mate, the males with the most beautiful plumage and the sing- ing voice are chosen; males without feathers that are re- splendent possess less chance of sex selection, fail to reproduce, and die out. Clothing has much the same pur- pose among human beings, namely, protection and sex ornamentation. Modesty in clothing also acquired a tangible status. Later, man became the wooer, woman occupied a more restricted sphere, put more attention on her clothing, not primarily for protection or modesty but for ornamentation, to attract the competitive glances of suitors. Woman has thus accepted a heavy load of sex- ornamentation, a burden which has greatly weighed her down and hindered her mental progress, notably in the case of the mandates of modern fashion. The rapid shift- ing of styles and the prestige of the mere novel arbitrarily set aside a really beautiful style even before it has had ii Op. cit., p. 82. 12 Op. cit., p. 147, foil, 454 Social Psychology a chance to be appreciated, while extremes continually verge on the immodest and sexually vulgar, in response to the tyrannies of fashion. The Determinants.-On the other hand, a compre- hensive study such as that made by Parsons in his Psy- chology of Dress, shows that despite the variations and absurdities of style due to conditions near at hand, people are fundamentally the same in every land and clime, with the same appetities and longings, the same basic motives and vanities, in the intimate connection between mind and material expression. The determining factor is not the period of history, the oddity of a fashion, or its cost; but the degree of satisfaction given to the cultivated aesthetic sense. The determining factors of fashion are: (1) the religious or ecclesiastical element; spiritual con- cepts have found expression in combinations of materials, design and color which have become fixed or symbolic of religious ideas; (2) the influence of monarchs in setting styles; (3) social life, for example, sometimes it has been the whim to be modest, in affected humility; again, to seem "old-fashioned," or there has been a desire for novelty, or a wish to express new thoughts and emotions, or an unconquerable thirst for the foreign or grotesque. French Styles.-Fashion's most powerful accomplice is of course the commercial interest, that is, the selfish desire of one man to enrich himself at the expense of the weak- nesses of others; the appeal to personal vanity, the desire to shine by comparison with one's neighbors. The influ- ence of dominant ideas of the age is well seen in the case of Louis XIV, who dictated to Europe its social customs and its graces, with the resultant styles and fashions. Later, the dominance of French fashions came about. Habit is once more invincible. Owing to France's unas- sailable position, the world has waited with bated breath the mandates of those who have set the styles. The cos- tumes from Paris come, then the mad rush to own one follows, the desire to buy being dictated by fashion, habit, or personal reasons: the dominance of French fashion is partly due to the art appeal, appreciation of the art qual- Custom and Tradition 455 ity arouses the desire.13 Fashion appeals also to a wide range of desires and appetites, to elemental desires, vani- ties, self-interest; it is one of earth's greatest autocrats. Fashion's Mandates.-It is plain that fashion is not so much allied to the changing states of men as to man's elemental physical appetites, his aesthetic and intellectual desires, his spiritual longings, with all his weakness as well, as manifested in all ages. 1 ' Fashion knows no limita- tions, no spiritual, aesthetic, or material obstacles; it recog- nizes only man's susceptibilities and his weaknesses, and it is bound only to satisfy them, ' ' notably his pride, vanity, selfishness, his regard for the tradition of the Garden of Eden. Just now the term 4'democracy" is fashionable. Hence we find it sagaciously wedded to modern commer- cial interests, then exploited by fashion, with the usual finesse and success. We also find it in alliance with the general uprising of the so-called lower classes, the people who are bent on sharing the possibility of dressing well with the classes they have learned to think above them; the right to be in the fashion is still the contested point among classes. So too there is still a struggle between fashion and commercialism, between ideals of social bet- terment and the almost universal god of commercialism. Despite the prevalence of alleged democratic ideas, the love of luxury and inordinate display continues; there is still a craving for sensation in dress, meek obedience to fashion's ever-changing dictates, no matter whence they emanate. So people wear furs in any month of the year, or go as nearly naked as the law permits, for the same old reasons. Tradition.-Tradition is ordinarily defined as the sum of the ideas, habits and customs which belong to a people and are transmitted from generation to generation, as the social heritage. To a large extent it determines our be- liefs, modes of behavior, the development of national senti- ment and national types, the customs which usage sanc- tions. From earliest childhood we are trained according to tradition, its attitudes, beliefs, standards. So the past 13 Op. tit., p. 322. 456 Social Psychology is handed down, even more than by means of books. We can not wait till the child reads books before laying down what we call character by tradition (Platt). The deep emotional attitudes are thus acquired, while books give us the formal patterns by way of intellectual imitation. It has been with the isolated and bookless on the whole that traditional attitudes have become fixed. Few of our be- liefs are results of our own intellectual activities; they are handed down and imitated from age to age. Thus de- mocracy is mostly a convention and tradition. It is a deli- cate matter to touch on traditions, especially in the case of religious beliefs: the traditions of others are interesting and open for discussion, not so our own; too many of the latter are "sacred," and involve too much intimacy of feeling. "If our idol's feet be of clay, let us keep them decently covered." To remove the mystery of a tradi- tion's origin is often a deliberate offense, and no writer with a sense of responsibility for his written word can undertake the task without hesitation. ' ' Men live by their beliefs, and to undermine a belief is a poor occupation for any one. . . . The reason for belief has been deliberately removed from the sphere of reason [by the Church] and yet has been claimed to be reasonable." Yet there can be no harm, Platt thinks, in examining into religious tradi- tion, "if only the world will see things rightly." Tradition and Culture.-We note also the part that tradition plays in transmitting the cultural or historic continuities. Heredity, physical environment and acquired habit do not account for the survival of these elements in higher forms of society. With the entering in of the intellectual element, through the development of oral and written language, the place or power of tradition is es- pecially seen (Ellwood). Language is manifestly the chief value of tradition, in contrast with the forces which actuate animal life. Tradition is thus the distinguishing element in the continuity of human society, with all that is peculiar to it; since it is tradition which has made human culture or civilization possible. We see this in the acquisition of skill, for instance, in making a tool, improv- Custom and Tradition 457 ing it, and spreading knowledge of it, as man advances from the perceptual to the conceptual stage. The growth of tradition has meant the gradual substitution of a psychic world of environment for an environment of vis- ible objects. So man approaches his world of real objects with certain values gained from the social tradition behind him. Thus every developed type of civilization is domi- nated by certain beliefs or standards, the " psychic domi- nants" which distinguish it. These ideas do not, of course, make social life as such, but are important instru- ments of development, instruments of adjustment in the environment amidst which the individual reacts. With reference to the term "social heredity" which some writers have applied to custom plus tradition, Ell- wood holds that the analogy does not perfectly apply; since the method of propagation is not biological, but psychological. Nevertheless, tradition and custom are as important in human society as heredity in the biological realm. Thus with proper qualifications one may compare man's social growth with his physical development. Hob- house says, for example: "The tradition of the elders is, as it were, the instinct of society. It furnishes the pre- scribed rule for dealing with the ordinary occasions of life, which is for the most part accepted without inquiry and applied without reflection. It furnishes the appro- priate institution for providing for each class of social needs, for meeting common dangers, for satisfying social wants, for regulating social relations. It constitutes, in short, the framework of society's life, which to each new generation is a part of its hereditary outfit. ' '14 Ellwood shows, however, that tradition represents habit rather than instinct in social life. "Its basis is really cer- tain habitual ways of thinking and of feeling, which are passed from individual to individual through some form of mental interaction, such as language or suggestion. It functions, moreover, to establish and control habits of behavior in the individual, which the experience of the 14 Social Evolution and Political Theory, p. 34, quoted by Ellwood, op. cit., p. 131. 458 Social Psychology group, in the past, has led it to approve. There is only analogy between tradition and heredity or instinct; but there is substantial identity between tradition and habit. Social tradition is an habitual way of thinking and feeling which persists from generation to generation. Emerson long ago wrote that "whoso would be a man must be a non-conformist," and American individualism likes to claim a break with the past. But Ellwood points out that to pretend to have broken with the past is merely to claim that one has discarded certain traditions, while in other respects one is as much controlled by tradition as any one. On the whole we rightly assume that the be- liefs, ideas, standards which have served society have a presumption in their favor. Traditions long maintained have social utility, they are at least roughly adjusted to social needs. The danger is that tradition fixed as habit may become inflexible and lead to social disaster. Social traditions as social habits are involved with a complexity of other habits, hence long standing traditions may become extremely coercive, may block the way to progress by pre- venting all change, which is as important as social contin- uity. The ideal, of course, is continuity with change. Emerson's protest is in behalf of the affirmative, self- reliant individual who has the courage and power to break with tradition in favor of changes essential to progress. Summary.-The study of custom, fashion, tradition in- volves matters which are so close to us that we find people objecting to references to the rule of fashion, while social psychologists are cautious in analyzing traditions which have played an important part in the development and preservation of civilization. The principle works both ways. We cling to customs chiefly because they are fa- miliar and pleasant, and accommodate ourselves to factors that are undesirable. Hence we make life more difficult than it might be, and our social life in general needlessly expensive. It would seem highly desirable to expose the rule of custom to the limit. But custom is supported by tradition, and much that is valuable has come down to us by means of traditions which we would rather not analyze, Custom and Tradition 459 lest we should become too sophisticated. We might, per- haps, distinguish between tradition, to which most of us are in bondage, and values which are worthy of conserva- tion. Those of us who are liberal might subject even our religious beliefs to analysis, rejecting items of faith which we have kept merely because repetition and hedonic asso- ciation have made them familiar, while endeavoring to select those doctrines which we can still defend as truths. Fashions in dress might be more difficult to conserve, on the ground of their superior beauty; for, as analysis shows, a multiplicity of motives enter into the account: some people admit that they would rather drop out of social life altogether than be out of fashion; others are afraid of being classed as peculiar; while commercialism is also a motive, and people do not question this as they should, because of love of change, novelty, display. But morals are also due in part to custom, and there are connections with the successive ethical teachings of the ages which we should need to inquire into, if this were primarily an ethical investigation. REFERENCES Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, Chaps. Ill-VI. Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, 1917, Chaps. VI, X. Dewey, John, Human Nature and Conduct, 1922, Chap. IV. Dickinson, Z. C., Economic Motives, 1922. Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, 1922, pp. 5, 82. Bogardhs, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, Chap. VIII. Parsons, F. A., The Psychology of Dress, 1920. CHAPTER XXIX PARTISANSHIP AND LOYALTY It is plain that partisanship is a difficult question in mod- ern life. We are appealed to by multiform interests, "causes," organizations. How shall we thread our way through? A presidential campaign approaches, we hear speeches in behalf of various candidates, all violently par- tisan; we are expected to agree with one group of politi- cians, in favor of one ' ' machine ' ' or another, adopt a candi- date. But it may be that we see virtue in more than one candidate, we may tend to become non-partisan. What shall we do: close our ears to all arguments except those emanating from one group, right or wrong? Is social psychology of any assistance here ? There are men who say that a non-partisan political position is simply impossible, hence we find a leader of national influence taking a stand against a public measure of supreme importance, that he may accord with his party; we find a leader putting a personal political quarrel above the question of the peace of the world. Again, we find a man in power turning aside from some of the ablest men in the country, even in a national or world crisis, in favor of individuals of ordinary ability of his own party whom he can control. Must it be a question of the will-to-be-par- tisan, against what the wisest men see to be right? The decisive questions lie to some extent outside of the sphere of psychology. But we may at least note the very great difference between the psychology of efficiency and the psychology of politics, notably in the case of a sup- posedly representative form of government. In the com- mercial world and in life generally we see people rising to the top through sheer ability to fill the positions they 460 Partisanship and Loyalty 461 occupy. In the World War in Europe we saw nations put- ting political differences aside in favor of the men of the hour. But in the political world we often see "influence" driving the best men aside. This appears to be a simple procedure for people of a single-tracked type. Such men believe there is a right or wrong side of every issue: they are in the right, their opponents are wrong; people who detect shades of difference, who find a third or a fourth point of view defensible are not to be listened to for a moment. As for being dispassionate or broad-minded, a man of principle rather than a political partisan, such a possibility is not to be entertained at all. One-sidedness.-We find the same dominance of will over reason in personal quarrels, in domestic conflicts. The man of violently partisan type expects absolute partisanship from others. The point of view and the rights of the oppos- ing party are either denied or ignored. If ties of blood enter in, the assumption is that "my kith and kin are right." The common-sense position that there are two sides to every question is put aside without analysis. A man or woman of the will-type may also be as violently partisan in attitude against his whole kith and kin, under special circumstances. This kind of self-assertion is char- acteristic of certain types. If there is a dispute or un- pleasantness, even a mere "social error," the other party is said to be wholly to blame. We note that these persons are no less emphatic in their espousal of a doctrinal point of view, in standing by their creed or church, as much as to say, "Our system is wholly true, our church is the only true one." That is, organization is above truth, "My country, right or wrong." Broad-mindedness.-But if some people are by temper- ament violently partisan, and appear to be incapable of tolerating or even understanding anything save violent partisanship in others, others are in type and by persua- sion strongly judicial, dispassionate; they see both sides, or more than two; they seek facts, laws, general conditions; they are "liberal" in the good sense of the word, find good everywhere, see some truth in every position involving 462 Social Psychology human motives and teachings. It may indeed be a practical necessity to make up one's mind on secondary matters, to adapt one's self to the world, to avoid mere neutrality; but one does this as matter of temporary convenience, dis- criminating between present needs and opportunities and ideals to be achieved as rapidly as conditions can be changed. Even in the case of kith and kin one may dis- criminate between a person's "better self," and his pres- ent limitations, basis, errors of judgment, due to his "lesser self." Thus a brother or sister may be regarded as more nearly in the wrong than the other party to a quarrel, and yet one may be true to the ideal self. So too one's actual organization or church may simply be the one which on the whole seems nearest right or least objectionable, in relation to an ideal. Hence devotion to truth, the right, justice, is put above partisanship to organizations as they now exist. The more our psychological knowledge grows the less pos- sible is it for some of us to take sides in favor of a mere will- attitude, emotional attitude, or any other attitude which favors the partisanship of one side of our nature, or one group of motives. The partisanship of "reason" might be nearly as violent as that of the will, if one were to insist on mere consistency at the expense of fidelity to all the significant facts of life. Love and Partisanship.-In a preceding chapter we have seen that love individuates, loves something, some- body ; there is a ruling passion, prevailing love, or dominant sentiment. This accounts for much of the partisanship of the world. Since we all tend to love some object or cause in particular, our partisanships grow out of our affections. When the motive is love of power, of ruling, of wealth, one side or party in power is naturally favored, and partisan- ships which would otherwise seem irrational are explained by their motives. Partisanship thus explained not only seems desirable but in every way practical. What is not clear to the person in whom will predomi- nates in a pronounced way, or to any other individual of the single-tracked type, is the partisanship of the man whose love is higher in type, who combines love with wisdom as Partisanship and Loyalty 463 a motive, and cares more for truth, justice, and freedom than for partisanship in politics and narrowly personal affairs. People in whom love of principle predominates are often so rare that other mortals can not make them out. Yet it is perfectly justifiable to be a rationalistic partisan. Love of truth is a wholly intelligible motive. Love takes various forms according to the type of individual, and we must know a man to understand his partisanships. Psy- chological knowledge of types suggests the need for toler- ance regarding the partisanships of people. There are many limiting stages of class consciousness through which people pass. There are many motives that intervene to pre- vent the early working out of the nobler things men live for, especially justice. Until justice rules in all our courts, people will cling to personal loyalties as the only form of partisanship they see any value in sustaining. In a highly defensible sense, the partisanship which clings above all to persons is the permanent form, that is, when it springs from love for the best in a person; and defends this best in the face of every possible opposition. Patriotism.-The various motives involved in a higher form of partisanship are well illustrated by patriotism, which naturally differs under various forms of government as we find them to-day and study their idealisms in the light of history. We turn to early American history, with the forming of the Union, to revive the ideal in its democratic form, when love of liberty was expressing itself anew. Coming down to the outbreak of the war in 1914, we con- sider a period when inculcation of ideals of international relations seems to have dulled the sense of patriotism. Yet never were the various peoples given a better opportunity to show their allegiances. Many ostensible American citi- zens returned to the slumbering but stronger allegiances within them; ties of race and blood proved much more powerful than newer relationships, especially when the struggle became more intense; and the hyphenate citizen proved to be one in name only. In reality there was a rul- ing love of some one country, or at least for a set of prin- ciples representative of a country, an alliance of certain 464 Social Psychology nations, as opposed to an effort to dominate the world. Love of country as such was not necessarily any stronger than it had ever been, but the necessity for emerging from alleged neutrality was far greater, neutrality being a sort of psychological camouflage. Few experiences in life accomplish so much in bringing apparently disparative motives into accord as war, when a man's country is in imminent danger. "Let his elemen- tal passion for conflict hereupon fuse with his brotherly love for his own countrymen into that fascinating and blood-thirsty form of humane but furious ecstasy which is called the war-spirit. The mood in question may or may not be justified by the passing circumstances. ... At its best the war-spirit is no very clear or rational state of any- body's mind. But one reason why men love this spirit is that when it comes, it seems at once to define a plan of life-a plan which solves the conflicts of self-will and con- formity. This plan has two features: (1) it is through and through a social plan, obedient to the general will of one's country, submissive; (2) it is through and through an exaltation of the self, of the inner man, who now feels glorified through his sacrifice, dignified in his self-surrender, glad to be his country's servant and martyr-yet sure that through this very readiness for self-destruction he wins the rank of hero. . . . Honor now means submission, and tc obey means to have one's way. Power and service are one. Conformity is no longer opposed to having one's own will. One has no will but that of the country."1 Again, a war gives one an opportunity to distinguish be- tween the ideal elements of patriotism as involving stand- ards for humanity and the adjustments which a man makes for the time being. "The object of patriotism is in truth something ideal, a moral entity definable only by the ties which a man's imagination and reason can at any moment recognize. If he has insight and depth of feeling he will perceive that what deserves his loyalty is the entire civiliza- tion to which he owes his spiritual life and into which that life will presently flow back, with whatever new elements he 1 J. Royce, The Philosophy of Loyalty, 1908, pp. 39, 41. Partisanship and Loyalty 465 may have added. Patriotism accordingly has two aspects: it is partly sentiment, by which it looks back upon the sources of culture, and partly policy, or allegiance to those ideals which, being suggested by what has already been attained, animate the better organs of society and demand further embodiment. To love one's country, unless that country is quite blind and lazy, must involve a distinction between the country's actual condition and its inherent ideal; and this distinction in turn involves a demand for changes and for effort. Party allegiance is a true form of patriotism. For a party, at least in its intent, is an as- sociation of persons advocating the same policy. Every thoughtful man must advocate some policy, and unless he has the misfortune to stand quite alone in his conception of public welfare he will seek to carry out that policy by the aid of such other persons as advocate it also."2 Loyalty Defined.-Loyalty is usually defined as a qual- ity or characteristic which leads to devoted service to the appointed person, the organization which one is called on to support. Thus the perfectly loyal person is certain to obey, to serve, despite all obstacles, at all costs, to the best of his ability. We note its influence in the family, in religion, in race, in the nation or country. Loyalty gives power and unity to the group, it is the center or basis in societies and classes, in professions standing for a certain high ideal. We note its power in contrast with mere partisanship, often so narrowing. It is also contrasted with popular "causes" and movements which sweep over the land by the aid of clannishness and cheap publicity, by fostering hatred against some organization in power, or in some alarmist fashion. Very great indeed is the difference between loyalty in the ethical sense of the word, and partisanship in favor of a "cause" which must defend itself because of its dependence on lies, on cowardly attacks, or on violence. Clans.-The spread of a clan dedicated to hatred and violence is doubtless interesting psychologically, but we need not look far to find its motives. Dependent to a large - Gr. Santayana, The Life of Season, Vol. II, p. 163. 466 Social Psychology extent on publicity, it can not long withstand the fearless publicity of the courageous people who really represent loyalty to ethical standards. The loyalty of the plain man, or laborer, to his "union," of whatever stamp, may indeed be genuine, while the organization itself is largely due to the insinuating work of demagogues who depend on sweep- ing generalizations, not reason, to sway the multitude. Loyalty to Catholicism, to the Jews, to any number of ideal- ized standards may have something very noble about it on the one side; yet include any number of hatreds and subtle attacks on the part of individuals in their manner of carry- ing it out. Some people are temperamentally agitators, never deep enough to know what causes they should intelli- gently espouse, what others to attack on rational grounds. The agitator will desert his cause if hard pressed, and thus admit that he is a mere partisan. Problems of Loyalty.-The difficulty in distinguishing in favor of loyalty is partly due to the fact that many men, and most women, are by nature intensely personal, hence more inclined to be partisans than to be loyal; while in the long run the ideal of all true loyalty is seen amidst strongly personal motives, as in the case of the mother who steadily sustains her child under condemnation. Few of us are suffi- ciently trained in personal matters to separate between what is right and what is matter of affection. For most of us, it is either a question of fidelity to persons or of loyalty to principle: we are unable to rise to the point of view of a principle achieving its goal through persons; it is either patriotism in a narrow sense of the word or love for humanity with little interest in nations: we are not large- minded enough to approach all humanity through a form of patriotism which is well-grounded and can meet all ob- jections. Each man of us is an individual, each has a wTork to do, is citizen of a certain country, state, city or town; and it is difficult for us to relate the near-by demands with fidelity to the good, the true, the right; to what is eternal, essential, universal, in such a way as to relate the particular with the universal. Hence there are frequent conflicts be- tween partisanships which tend to be political, local, nar- Partisanship and Loyalty 467 rowing, if not mean, sordid; and promptings to love hu- manity involving loyalty to what is right or just for all. We know too little about the irrational elements of human nature, the nature and reason for inner conflicts, to draw the line between the eligible traits in our brothers and sis- ters, and those which involve mere partisanships in favor of lower emotions, pride, self-interest, conceit, and the game of trying to serve two masters. A certain remoteness from limitedly personal influences is demanded of us if we would be dispassionate, a weighing of evidences to de- termine the facts of significance for all, the actual motives viewed without prejudice; and people are annoyed if we take time to be impartial. Loyalty includes seeking the greater good, the higher good in the long run; people are at a loss to account for our conduct if we persist in seeking what we take to be this good. It is often a thankless task to try to be fair, to seek a common ground on which to bring people together, on the presupposition that there is some good in all. The majority are actuated by likes or preferences, and they expect this. We are praised when working in an institution ostensibly standing for a great truth, and we flatter ourselves that people approve of us as well as of their institution; but if we chance to go elsewhere in quest of more favorable con- ditions for loyalty to this truth, we find people quickly los- ing interest in us, thereby admitting that it was not truth but a mere institution which they serve. It is possible, however, to be faithful both to an institution which serves its purpose in its place, and to truth, the right, justice, as approximated little by little through institutions; loyal both to persons, ideally speaking, as men of character, and to the principles for which they stand. Many loyalties are blind. That is, people may be actu- ated by a high motive amidst others, so that they do not know precisely what they are loyal to or why. Loyalty in the popular sense is apt to be a mere tradition. We are minded therefore to distinguish our loyalties from mere partisanships, to see what each springs from and what the objects are to which loyalty leads us. 468 Social Psychology The Ethical Definition.-Loyalty is defined by Royce in terms of the fulfillment of the whole moral law.3 Implied in the ideal is justice, charity, industry, wisdom, spiritu- ality, whatever fosters the moral life at its best. Loyalty also means the willing, practical, thorough-going devotion of a person to a cause. Hence it involves all the elements for which we have pleaded above. Loyalty involves assent of will and actual conduct in realizing the ideal, as in the case of a patriot who actually serves his country. Loyalty is never mere emotion, although it may include adoration and affection. Hence it calls for restraint or submission of natural desires, self-control, guidance found in the cause which is being served. Loyalty is always social, tends to unite many fellow-servants in one service, has a kind of impersonal or superpersonal element about it. 4'You can love an individual. But you can be loyal only to a tie that binds you and others into some sort of unity, and loyal to individuals only through the tie." To live a loyal life is to be free from many well-known sources of dissatisfaction. Thus hesitancy is often corrected. Loyalty gives stability to life. It is found by bringing the will to self-conscious- ness. "Your duty is what you yourself will to do in so far as you clearly discover who you are, and what your place in the world is." Espousing a Cause.-Royce admits that we often find ourselves in a tangled situation, when we try to discover a cause worthy of our loyalty, when we note that loyalty to an institution has often meant evils to people outside it, servitude on the part of the faithful, and that loyalty re- garded as involving an element of freedom means a certain departure from tradition, taking a certain exception to the society in which we have been reared. Yet the ideal stands out clearly. A cause is really good in so far as it involves loyalty to loyalty itself, as a means of furthering loyalty in one's fellows. Such a cause should stir me, arouse me, eventually possess me as a living cause in my own social order, and one which so possesses me that I attain unity within myself by accepting it as my own, a unity which 3 The Philosophy of Loyalty, p. 15. Partisanship and Loyalty 469 utilizes private passion and outward conformity, which finds place for the varied emotions of any number of tem- peraments. By seeking this unity for myself I will that all men shall find this great solution for the conflicts which stir them. I do not oppose any other man's loyalty, but only the blindness of men in their loyalty, the tragic dis- loyalties to loyalty in the feuds of society. We become loyal only by passing beyond what fate has apparently decreed for us, by taking exception to the im- pulses which come by birth; yet nobody can be loyal with- out using his natural impulses, interpreting his life in terms of bodily deeds. My causes must form a system, constitute in their entirety a single cause. This is what we mean by being a self or "person" in the true sense of the word. For an individual self is a human life lived according to a plan. To live without a plan at all would in so far make one a mere psychological specimen. To be one person, in connec- tion with your organism, is to have a purpose, in contrast with mere glimpses of a self, to pass beyond mere efforts in which we scarcely know what we are striving for. Other- wise we have a mere mass of instincts, passions, social inter- ests, private rebelliousness, whereof our original nature is compounded. If loyalty has not yet arrived at any sort of definiteness, there is so far only inarticulate striving to be an individual self. Decisiveness is a duty. The decision is to be an ideal expression of the whole personal nature, con- scious and unconscious. And in being loyal to loyalty do what you can to produce a maximum of fidelity among your fellowmen. Such loyalty is very far from being identified with mere warlike and intolerant virtue, it is rather a spirit of univer- sal peace, meaning harm to no man's loyalty, without class hatreds, race prejudices. Family ties are natural oppor- tunities for it. Disloyalty is moral suicide. People forget this who identify loyalty with conventionality, or with any- thing else that is forced upon us. "No convention can predetermine my personal loyalty without my free consent. . . . If I am loyal I mean to be faithful; I give myself; I am thenceforth the self thus given over to the cause. . . . 470 Social Psychology So far as in me lies I will be loyal to our tie, to our cause, to our union. ' ' 4 Self-Realization.-This ideal is in sharp contrast with much of the individualism of the day. Reform movements, trade-unions, religious sects, and many partisan organiza- tions, both good and evil, arouse loyalties which in no way further loyalty to loyalty. Thus the member of a labor- union who is loyal to his class is likely to disregard duties to the community at large, party loyalty is misused by cor- rupt politicians to the harm of the state. Arbitrary inter- ference, disloyalty to the universal cause, is the source of the trouble. A loyal member of a labor-union might use his loyalty so as to serve social harmony. We need to idealize our causes. Sorrow, defeat, disappointment, fail- ure, work for a lost cause can all be turned to account. The art of giving one's self to a cause is learned by actual giv- ing. Strain, endurance, sacrifice, toil teaches us what loyalty is. War is not needed to teach us this great lesson. There are opportunities enough in times of peace for link- ing human lives into the unity of one life. There is a spiritual unity which transcends any one man's experience, a higher social unity in which we all have our being; we exist and have our worth by relation to a consciousness of a higher type: the social will is a concrete entity, as real as we are, and in serving loyalty as an ideal we serve the eternal order in which our more complete selfhood is realized. Group Will.-The subject of loyalty is ordinarily not considered by social psychologists. In discussing what he calls "interest groups" Ellwood considers it briefly. He notes the fact that interest groups will rarely carry their egoism to the point where they threaten the life of the whole group.5 All human social groups elaborate what may be called a group will, and develop a sort of individuality or quasi-personality. This means that activities are brought to a unity of aim, hence a unity of purpose. The strain and stress of competition of group with group tightens the bonds and unifies the groups. Hence the close coordination >4 Op. cit., p. 226. 5 Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 114. Partisanship and Loyalty 471 between activities of individual members, or "team-work," which implies great collective control of individual activity. Social groups may come to have quite as distinct characters as individuals. It is a socio-psychological principle that loyalty to one group need not weaken, but may rather strengthen, loyalty to a greater group, of which the smaller is a part. Hence government within a nation may serve humanity. But this is only possible in countries where in- dividual voters are dominated by ideals of patriotism and of service to mankind, instead of by mere selfish, class, or national interests. The ideal government must then be built up by various means of social control, the social in- terests must be raised to the moral plane. The problem is to bring moral principles into actual practice. A step toward the union of moral and social practices would be made, if we could win general recognition for the fact that virtue binds men together in harmonious relationships; that without loyalty, honesty, veracity, and justice between men there can never be anything more than a shabby semblance of social order.6 Moral Integration.-Looking back from the moral heights to which Royce's plea for loyalty lifts us, we realize that in social psychology we need, by implication at least, an ethical ideal of integration which shall accomplish far more than the mere overcoming of disparities and con- trasts, dissociations and conflicts as these are studied with- in the individual. Social psychology ordinarily leaves us with a conception of the elements out of which man as a social being is developed, his instincts, emotions, native in- telligence, desires, and the like. But the account is apt to be closed with a mere collection. We do not seem to have made the complete transition to a social group in which the activities of the individual And full expression through service in the group. Therefore we do not appear to have an adequate conception of the union between egoism and altruism. We are left with the possibility that the higher instincts, leading to the higher emotions, quickened especially by tender emotion and sympathy, will yield the 6 Op. tit., pp. 114, 268, 274. 472 Social Psychology social sense or sentiment in its fullness. To make good the deficiencies we must turn to the ethical philosophers. Mackenzie, for example, suggests that courage and loyalty must have appeared very early, as being of great importance for the maintenance of the tribe.7 If this is true, more attention should be given to moral integration, that we may have a complete social psychology. The term esprit de corps covers the fact of loyalty to a considerable extent. Some psychologists consider loyalty implicitly at least by investigating social conflict. Thus Williams de- velops the idea of rivalry at great length, noting the con- flicts, for example, between family egoism and idealism.8 But such descriptions stop short of the psychology of loy- alty. The failure in many cases, as Miss Calkins points out, is in the tendency to describe egoistic emotion as if it included no awareness of other selves.9 We dwell on the unsympa- thetic emotions, the moroseness, discontent, hostile fear or hate of the man who realizes himself as unfavorably related to other selves. But Miss Calkins holds that unruffled good na- ture, sunshiny content, unaffected liking, and gratitude of the individual who feels that he is happy -with his fellows is just as significant. We are too prone to give these genial feelings an ethical value, and to contrast dislike, as selfishness, with liking, as if that were unselfish. But one attitude is as "egoistic" as the other. Our vaguer social feelings of like and dislike later give way to emotions in which the realiza- tion of others is more sharp-cut, other selves are realized as greater, stronger than one's self; reverence enters in; and toward equals love, friendship, and the active attitudes of loyalty and trust; family-feeling, club-feeling, college- feeling, church-affiliation. With every widening of one's sympathy the self is enlarged. In Miss Calkins's account, faith is intimately allied with loyalty, especially faith as a social attitude, allied with will: only in will and in faith, in my self-assertion and in my devotion, do I fully come 7 Manual of Ethics, 4th Ed. 1901, p. 372. s Principles of Social Psychology, Chap. XX. 9 A First Boole in Psychology, p. 187. Partisanship and Loyalty 473 to myself; only in will and in loyalty, as leader or as fol- lower, do I influence my environment. Courage.-Courage is ordinarily regarded as one of the virtues simply, one of the four Platonic virtues, belonging especially with temperance and wisdom as the virtues which bear on the life of the individual. That is, courage or fortitude involves resistance to the fear of pain and the active or persevering pursuit of the object or purpose in view. But popular usage is so general, as if courage were equivalent to heart, feeling, inclination, desire, combined with firmness, valor, boldness, daring, resolution, that there is need of defining the term in more precise psychological terms. H. G. Lord has undertaken to do this by analyzing courage from the point of view of inborn mechanisms and McDougall's study of instincts.10 Courage is plainly complex; it is not an instinct, but comes into action through various structures. It involves the powerful push of self- assertion, an element of self-reliance, of Wanderlust, also of the hunting instinct as observable not in the ease of hunters but of pioneers, explorers. Sentiments also enter, for example, patriotism. Some sort of philosophy of life is plainly its profounder basis. Morale.-Courage is better understood if we note its relation to morale, which is defined as "the establishment of homogeneity in the herd" from which proceed moral power, enthusiasm, courage, endurance, enterprise, and all the virtues of the warrior.11 In the presence of a situation in which the general moral forces of a nation are seriously disordered, there is special need of morale, to give smooth- ness of working, energy and enterprise to the whole na- tional machine. From the individual it "ensures the maxi- mal outflow of effort with a minimal interference from such egoistic passions as anxiety, impatience, discontent." Hence it is very important to note the psychological content of morale. In its light the soldier is regarded as a member of a body solidly united for a single purpose. The serious- ness of disunion is the discouragement to ourselves which 10 The Psychology of Courage, 1918. 11W. Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, preface. 474 Social Psychology it necessarily involves. Every note of disunion is a loss of moral power of incalculable influence. Hence we note that voluntary unity is the real source of higher development. There is plainly need of conscious authoritative direction, with actual sacrifice of privileges, careful selection of con- cessions, relaxation in the vast inhumanity of the social machine-at the psychological moment-that true national homogeneity may be attained: '1 The simplest basis of unity is equality. ' '12 The Content of Morale.-The morale of a group is said to be good when each individual does his part with all his energy in response to the command from above. The leader therefore plans his policy with this type of cooperation in mind. It may be necessary for him to withhold the facts about great losses, if the leader is a general in war-time; since the publication of losses is likely to have a dishearten- ing effect. The amount of actual warfare which a soldier or civilian can vividly conceive must be considered or de- termined by the leaders. It is well known that loss of morale quickly results, however, when too many facts have been withheld until information is suddenly obtained and widely circulated. In his analysis of morale, Hocking notes the fact that in no war has the human quality counted for so much as in the recent World War, that is "the endurance, the initia- tive, the power of sacrifice, the loyalty, the ability to subordi- nate personal interest and pride, the power of taking the measure of the event, of discounting the unfavorable turn, of responding to frightfulness with redoubled resolution rather than to fear, of appreciating the real emergency and rising instantly to meet it. It is these qualities of mind and char- acter which in the ensemble go by the name of 'morale'; and it is these qualities that hold the balance of power in war. " 13 In the case of collision of will against will, morale controls the outcome, wins by turning the scale. Depres- sion relaxes the grip and so begets failure. Fear reduces control and tends to grow toward panic. 12 Ibid., p. 151. 13 W. E. Hocking, Morale and its Enemies, 1918, p. 8. Partisanship and Loyalty 475 It is clear that morale as thus analyzed differs from ' ' morals ' ' in general. Morale requires building, it involves a certain condition of the inner man, the state of will in which you can get most from the machinery, take blows with the least depression, hold out for the longest time, with perpetual ability to come back. It is more than "good spirits" or enthusiasm. It is anything but the cheerful optimism of early morning, or the tendency to be jubilant at early victory. Fitness and readiness to act is the positive element, readiness to wait the negative. Its staying-power is not to be tested in the laboratory. For, in Hocking's analysis, as in Miss Calkins's account of loyalty, it is essentially a state of faith-"the superb and elusive logic of human faith." Its bases are found in the fighting instinct in the service of the social instinct, with a feeling of crowd loyalty, also an element of indignation: the normal exercise of the fight- ing instinct is in the interest of justice, in the moral sanc- tion of a common cause. But the instinctive impulses of pugnacity and national feeling depend on appropriate stimulus; feeling results from what we know or believe, some condition which arouses indignation. The discipline and sway of esprit de corps are not enough. Much thinking is also needed; conviction, the reasoned belief of thinking men is essential; something more than the crowd-spirit. An army is not a crowd, still less a nation. "A mob or crowd is an unorganized group of people governed by less than the average individual intelligence of its members. Armies and nations are groups of people so organized that they are controlled by an intelligence higher than the average. ' '14 Feeling taken by itself is an untrustworthy support of ac- tion. It is necessary to keep the thoughts of the people to- gether, to have a mental mobilization, that the people may realize the war as an end. Stanley Hall holds that morale is to be regarded as the chief end, namely, in keeping ourselves, body and soul, and our environment, physical, social, industrial, always at the very tip-top of condition.15 This super-hygiene implies, he i* Ibid., p. 37. is G. S. Hall, Morale, 1920. 476 Social Psychology says, the maximum of vitality, life abounding, getting and keeping it in the center of creative evolution; and minimiz- ing, destroying, or avoiding all checks, arrests, and inhibi- tions, by aid of the developmental urge which may carry us to a point even beyond morality as commonly under- stood. Morale differs from morality by recognizing and do- ing justice to the unconscious and instinctive impulsions to virtue. Summary.-Our study of loyalty as a direct clue to social unity indicates how far we have advanced beyond the theory that habit is the central principle. Habit might indeed lead to partisanship, many of us are temperamen- tally partisans in violent measure, politicians assume partisanship of a narrowing sort to be necessary; but morale is an achievement in which we must conquer habit, allay fear, subordinate individual desire, and throw in our energies to the full in behalf of the common good. More strikingly still, loyalty in Royce's analysis is nothing if not voluntary, a quickening, self-conscious dedication of ourselves to a cause adopted as worth while, so well worth while that by fostering it we add to the power of loyalty in the world. Royce insists that we need not wait for war, or identify loyalty with war. Man does not advance into what he calls the universal, into love for humanity as a whole, by leaps and bounds, but by enlarging his loyalties. Thus patriotism may perform a wonderful ser- vice for him, by unifying motives which have hitherto been in opposition, by summoning his will into greater power. War accomplishes much for us by calling us out of alleged neutralities, disclosing our real love of country. Morale enables us to stand by a cause worth standing for, and is a striking illustration of the unifying power of a great motive. Courage is a test of whatever is in us. Faith is an essential. So we realize what men might accomplish if they should find a motive as great as war-making, to call them out of localisms into fidelity to principle, into "loyalty to loyalty." Partisanship and Loyalty 477 REFERENCES Royce, J., The Philosophy of Loyalty, 1908. Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, 1917, Chaps'. V, XII. Santayana, G., The Life of Reason, Vol. II, Chap. VII. Mackenzie, J. S., Manual of Ethics, 4th ed., 1901, p. 372. Bogakdus, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, Chap. XIII. Hall, G. S., Morale, 1920 (bibliography). Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, new ed. 1914, pp. 187, 244. Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, 1922, Chap. XX. Lord, H. G., The Psychology of Courage, 1918. Trotter, W., Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 1916, pp. 7, 144, 151. Hocking, W. E., Morale and its Enemies, 1918. CHAPTER XXX GROUP CONSCIOUSNESS In the popular psychology of the day it is readily as- sumed that there is a group mind subject to the sway of suggestion, a crowd-spirit, a '1 mob-psychology " to be taken as bare fact. Political assemblies under the influence of a demagogue, revival meetings swept by the emotionalism of an evangelist, and laborite mobs played upon by agita- tors seem to be sufficient evidence. The crowd as a whole is said to respond to stimuli as the individual responds. Hence the group mind appears to be an entity. Further- more, there is plainly a certain consciousness prevalent in every small group, as in the home, wherever there is mu- tuality of feeling, community of interests, response to a leader who dominates. Group Minds.-We grow up under the sway of one group spirit after another, among our kinsmen, at school, in the theater, in congregations, in the neighborhood, the town, the city, the state, the nation; among people of our race, clan, class, union, creed, profession. Every locality or institution has its atmosphere, notably in the small town, the metropolis, the university; and as we carry its influences with us in a measure, spheres of influence ex- tend far and wide and interpenetrate. The question therefore arises, Precisely what do we mean by the 11 group mind"? Is it really an entity? Has it a consciousness as unmistakably as the individual has a "mind"? Dewey points to the difficulty we meet in trying to ac- count for collective minds, group minds, or national minds after we have assumed their existence to explain social phenomena.1 This difficulty is due to the fact that we i Human Nature and Conduct, p. 60. 478 Group Consciousness 479 assume the existence of minds prior to action, that is, minds complete in themselves; whereas, in Dewey's ac- count, the mentality in question implies interaction be- t-ween individuals and their environment, for example, in the case of hunger, fear, gregariousness, or in a family custom with organized habits of action which come into contact and conflict with that of some other family.2 If we were to follow this clue, we would of course, find reasons enough for gregariousness leading to such action, for instance, man's necessities in childhood, for care and protection; later, for mutual protection in the tribe, the clan; for success in war, in government; for pleasure and development in music and other arts, in religion, science, literature; among races, a despised nation, an objection- able race; also groupings where inner affinity, friendship, loyalty, patriotism, moral kinship counts over and above reasons for minor groupings. We may very well describe all groups by reference to the appropriate actions which they manifest on occasion. But some psychologists are not satisfied with this view. Individual Minds.-Ellwood finds a clue in the social character of the individual mind, which has been very largely evolved as a social instrument, in adjustment to groups. Mind has been a link between members of a species ever since mental life appeared. Social life is a specialized form of group or collective life, impossible without mind. The instincts, emotions and sensations often seem made to fit into the corresponding mental processes of another individual, and so to bind all the individuals into a unity. Mind thus seems to be social in character from the start, both a product of and an instru- ment of association. Every aspect of the individual's consciousness is socially conditioned even in case of the inherited elements, the instincts, emotions, and native impulses. Mind has been developed in the interaction of mind with mind in the carrying on and controlling of life processes. Mental life plainly pertains as much to the group as to the individual. Intermental processes are 2 Ibid., p. 67. 480 Social Psychology seen in suggestion, sympathy, imitation, communication. This does not however mean that the individual's con- sciousness is completely determined by the group; the variations, originalities and inventions react upon the group, as the individual is a relatively independent center of energy. Human society is by no means a simple mass. The significant thing is that individuals form a mutual environment in which all the elements are primarily psy- chical. A group may therefore be described as a psychical unity, or, better, as psycho-physical, emphasis being put on psychical interaction. It is not sufficient to say that social habits persist, since the basis of these is in the indi- vidual. There is, of course, no "social organism" strictly speaking, with a "social nervous system/' but there are surely coordinated activities of individuals in a group, with a group-will, class consciousness, and in this sense a "social mind."3 The Collective Soul.-Lippman approaches the problem from the point of view of an acute analysis of public opinion, which we shall presently consider, by showing that "settled aims" appear out of "drift and incoher- ence." These invoke "a collective soul, a national mind, a spirit of the age, which imposes order on random opin- ion." Although a mass is not an "organism," social thought plainly and surely functions. "This fact is ob- scured because the mass is constantly exposed to sugges- tion. It reads, not the news, but the news with an aura of suggestion about it, indicating the line of action to be taken . . . facts stereotyped to a certain action of be- havior . . . persuasion has become a self-conscious art and a regular organ of popular government."4 Social Relations.-Ginsberg brings the two custom- ary views of the group mind into contrast in this form: (1) the character of the social aggregate is due to the essential nature of its constituent units in reaction; (2) the social group explains the individuals composing it: the individual owes his very nature to the social milieu 3 Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 87. 4 Public Opinion, pp. 197, 243. Group Consciousness 481 in which he grows up.3 In the first case the individual is conceived in too abstract a fashion; the character of the group is ignored, also its institutions, traditions, etc. The second view tends to belittle individuality, offers no co- herent and self-consistent account of the unity of social groupings. Both views are abstract; the units have no existence out of relation to their social grouping, they are not first individuals, then a social unit, as there might be bricks and then a pile of them. The relations which bind individuals together are intrinsic, actually constitutive of the individual: social relation is nothing save individuals in relation, each individual having a core of being which is unique, incommunicable. Society is not in any sense an artificial product. If we use the term "social mind" it must then be in the sense of "a sort of collective and not a substantive unity"; since the whole is not more real than the individual. The Will of All.-To attribute a mind or person to society would be to ascribe a fictitious unity, as if indi- viduals were merged and fused in the whole. The whole as thus personified, as said to represent a good, "the good of the whole," would then be contrasted with the indi- viduals who make up the whole. We saw the results of this procedure in the case of Emperor William's Prussian state before the war. When such a view of society pre- vails, it is readily imagined that some proposed action may be for the good of society as opposed to that of its component members. The result is mischievous. There is no virtue in mere collectivity or even in wholeness. All values are for persons. The good of the whole, like any other good, must be a good for persons, must consist in something intrinsic to personality, in something which en- hances individuality, serves to actualize a potentiality. The theory of a social mind often leads to the deification of society, the ascription of dignity and power above the moral law which binds individuals. This deification leads to profound conservatism, a tendency to justify the status 5 The Psychology of Society, Chap. IV. 482 Social Psychology quo. We are not even entitled to speak of the will of the whole, but merely a will of all, determined by a sense of the good of the whole.0 There is no such thing as a gen- eral will. The whole argument in its favor is based on hypostatization of the contents of minds, and a denial of the reality of acts of experience. On the basis of this alleged confluence of minds a general will is then assumed. McDougall's View.-In contrast with psychologists who regard the group mind in terms of an aggregation of in- dividuals, McDougall7 holds that by virtue of its past history the group has positive qualities which it does not derive from the units which compose it at any one time, qualities which act on the units in a different manner from that in which the units as such act. Each unit develops other potentialities in the group, latent while it was out- side the group. The aggregate which is a society has a certain individuality, is a true whole which in great meas- ure determines the nature and modes of activity of its parts, an organic whole whose mental life is not the mere sum of the mental lives of its units existing as independent units; and since it has a collective life the group has a collective mind or 1 'soul." The organized system of forces thus constituting a society has tendencies of its own, power to mold all its component individuals, power to perpetuate itself as a self-identical system, subject only to slow and gradual change. This accords with McDougall's view that an individual mind is an organized system of purposive forces. Any society is more or less organized according to a purpose. Even in a crowd there is (1) a common object of mental activity; (2) a common mode of feeling in regard to it; (3) some degree of reciprocal influence between the mem- bers of the group.8 In a crowd, for instance, there is "exaltation or intensification of emotion" as the most striking result of its formation. The sudden appearance of impending danger may serve as an occasion. There is sympathetic induction of emotion, a sense of sharing in 6 Ibid., p. 73. t The Group Mind, 1920. s /bid., Chap. II. Group Consciousness 483 a mighty, irresistible power which renders the individual reckless of consequences. Suggestibility is one of the reasons for a crowd, but the sympathetic spread of emotion is sufficient. Telepathy if it exist at all is rare. Is there "collective conscious- ness"? If so, is consciousness an organism? for instance, Prussianism during the World War. The objection to this view would be that all the cells would be used twice: as the basis of individual consciousness, and as an element entering into the collective consciousness. On the hy- pothesis of such a consciousness, the question would arise: Does the simple fortuitously gathered crowd possess it, or only the highly organized groups, the leading nations? It is clear that the hypothesis is not needed.9 In a crowd the individual loses himself, conscious to some extent only; he is depersonalized, feels less person- ally responsible; manifests a lower order of intelligence, readily responds to suggestion. Hence the orator address- ing a crowd must rely on very simple intellectual proc- esses. The crowd is impulsive, violent, fickle, inconsistent, irresolute and extreme in reaction, displaying only the coarser emotions. Plainly the crowd manifests no organ- ized system of relations. The Organized Group.-When a clearly defined com- mon purpose exists, hence a collective will, we have an organized group in which (1) some degree of continuity exists; (2) an adequate idea or self-consciousness of the group mind; (3) interaction of the group with other simi- lar groups, animated by different ideals and purposes; (4) a body of traditions, habits, customs; (5) differentiation and specification of functions of the constitutents.10 In such a group the choice of means is left to those best qual- ified and in the best position for deliberate action, so that coordination of voluntary actions may be secured into a collective will, as in the case of a patriot army. The im- pulses are awakened by a mutual sentiment on five levels of collective action. 9 Ibid., p. 55. 10 Op. cit., Chap. III. 484 Social Psychology The Group Spirit.-Group self-consciousness, esprit de corps, is the condition of all higher group life, as in the case of group loyalty in an army where there is a senti- ment of devotion to the group.11 Such a spirit raises both the intellectual and the moral levels. Each member is in a way his brother's keeper. Thus effective collective action is made possible. There is a common sense of re- sponsibility, the group spirit destroys conflict and oppo- sition between cruder individuals and primitive altruistic tendencies; egoistic self-seeking is brought into the service of society, the individual is identified with the group, is inspired to efforts for the common good. Groups are sometimes rooted in kinship, sometimes determined by geographical conditions; again, custom, tradition, and the purposes of the group are mixed. National Groups.-McDougall defines a nation with ref- erence to an organization which makes possible delibera- tion and collective volition; some degree of political independence and a national mind or character.12 Hence nationhood is a psychological conception. Essential to the mind of a nation is a certain degree of mental homo- geneity, some similarity of mental constitution on the part of the individuals. The great difference of races is, of course, to be taken into account, the part played by lead- ers, by war. A nation exists only in the idea of the nation in the minds of the individuals of whom it is composed, and in the influence of this idea as seen in their actions. There are bonds of custom, habit, economic interdepend- ence, law, self-interest, sympathy, imitation, collective emotion, and thought. McDougall thinks that national group consciousness is not a theory or speculation, but an actual fact, the col- lective self-consciousness being the unifying influence. The result is a sentiment, with devotion to it, the value of patriotism being in the moral value of the group spirit. Thus the nation alone is a self-contained and complete organism, in it the solidarity of the race may be realized through relationship with other nations. Tradition hands ii Ibid., Chap. IV. 12 Ibid., Chap. VI. Group Consciousness 485 down to it all the intellectual and moral gains of past generations, and by it the evolution of tradition is fostered. In developing his concept of the nation, McDougall leans towards a synthesis of aristocracy and democracy, self- realization and service to the community. The Spiritual Community.-"The bonds of society are in the members of society, and not outside of them. It is the memories, traditions, and beliefs of each which make up the social memories, traditions, and beliefs. So- ciety like the kingdom of God is within us, within each of us, and yet greater than the thoughts and understand- ings of any one of us . . . the spirit of a people, though existing only in the individual members, more and more surpasses the measure of any individual mind." The communal spirit of the successive generations is so trans- mitted that the community is "greater than its members who exist at any one time."13 Elements of the Crowd.-Sir M. Conway points out that at times man merges himself completely in some group or crowd, and loses his identity like a sheep in a flock, follows its routine; its esprit de corps determines his ideals and dictates his emotions so that he is like a soldier in a regiment or a cell in a living tissue, a mere unit whose life, joy, and passion it is to contribute his portion of vitality and power to the larger life of the whole group: yet again the individual may take up an attitude of com- plete detachment, like Thoreau at Walden, a Theban hermit in his desert cave, so that the crowd is nothing to him.14 So too the crowd aims to be self-sufficing, as in the case of a public meeting, a congregation, a race (the English-speaking), an empire, a nation. The nation which exhibits an amazing crowd life when attacked may also be divided into political parties, classes, chance assemblies, and so on without limit. A group becomes a crowd when its numbers are too large for general conversation to be possible. The opinion of a crowd has no relation to the reasoned opinion of the 13 R. M. Maciver, Community, 1917, quoted by McDougall, op. cit. 14 The Crowd in Peace and War, 1915, Chap. I. 486 Social Psychology majority of its members.15 It is rather "a mere infectious passion which sweeps through the whole body like an elec- tric current, and frequently is originated and projected from a single brain." Courage is the crowd's highest virtue, fear its worst vice. A crowd may manifest an emotion in common, although all its members differ as individuals; for instance, Germany united in hating Eng- land. Enthusiasm may also sway a crowd. Thus a crowTd may have all the emotions and no intelligence. Yet crowds are also the nest and abiding-place of ideals: a crowd lacks reason, but possesses faith, the crowd phenomena being produced in the realm of the subconscious, where the forces are by which the crowd is swayed. Every crowd has a crowd spirit, and every true mem- ber catches that spirit, as in the case of enlistments re- sulting from sudden emotion. The will of the individual suffers a change through the cumulative effect of con- stant suggestion. Thus we "catch" even ideas of con- ventionality and good form from crowd standards. Then conformity to an unwritten code becomes a habit. Tradi- tion is crowd memory, as in the case of the House of Commons, with its long life formed of successive genera- tions of individuals, or in the case of civilization itself. Every crowd desires to grow, hence propaganda results, processions are used as means of influence, while patriot- ism is the crowd environment of the nation. Napoleon was a crowd compeller.16 So too are those who start revo- lutions. Gladstone was a crowd exponent. The king of England is a crowd representative. Organizations may also come to represent that which the crowd can not attain itself, for no crowd can organize itself. Ideals are kindled rather than taught, or the need for ideals is made manifest by crowd cries: "For God and the King," Deutschland uber Alles. So the ideal of the expansion of empires is propagated. Even a nation is in a sense a crowd: "A nation is the whole population of an area, organized into a single crowd by the possession of a common ideal. It is patriotism that makes a nation, not vice versa. That is, 15 Ibid., Chap. II. 16 Ibid., Chap. VI. Group Consciousness 487 patriotism is a unifying nation-making force. The social instinct by which crowds are formed is as essentially a part of the nature of every individual as is his individual- istic instinct; his reasoning powers are most individual, while his emotions are chiefly social. The elevation of the masses is accomplished mainly by means of the crowd, a body of adherents being necessary in the case of ideals. Thus the crowd lives so long as the ideal which it incorpo- rates endures. Other writers put a less idealistic estimate on crowds. Cooley holds that the crowd mind is merely a collective mind of a low order which stimulates and unifies the cruder impulses of its members.17 There is always a danger of being stampeded. The peculiarity of the crowd is seen in the readiness with which any communicable feeling is spread and augmented, any contagion or wave of emotion. Yet the crowd is not necessarily irrational and degenerate or irresponsible. Sidis intimates that there is a subconscious self, embodying lower qualities (irra- tional, credulous, cowardly, cruel, lacking self-control) which takes the place of the normal personality in riots, panics, lynchings, the crowd being in high degree sug- gestible.18 This reminds us of LeBon's hypothesis that the crowd thinks differently from the way in which the individuals think and act in a state of isolation. But while Sidis attributes the differences to the ordinarily unexpressed secondary personality of each individual, LeBon assumes the existence of a collective mind on the ground that psychology has proved that unconscious phenomena play an altogether preponderating part in opposition to intelligence, as conscious. From this point of view the unconscious substratum created in the mind by heredity, with its innumerable characteristics handed down from generation to generation, produces our uncon- scious acts; these qualities become common property in the crowd. Dewey attributes the phenomena of crowds and mobs 17 Social Organization, 1909, Chap. XIV. is The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898, p. 89. 488 Social Psychology to a disintegration of habits which releases impulses and renders persons susceptible to immediate stimuli, stimuli which break through the crust of ordinary custom and re- lease impulses on such a scale as to create a mob.19 Hence freedom, dread, and suspicion are played upon by leaders who incite a crowd to become a mob. This is an ordinary technique in an excited political campaign, in starting a war. Novel stimuli create occasions where habits afford no ballast. Hence great waves of emotion easily sweep through masses of people. Sometimes these are waves of enthusiasm for the new, sometimes of violent reaction against it, both being equally undiscriminating. Crowd Behavior.-Martin, who has devoted many years to the careful study of certain types of crowds, indicates the need of analyzing the forms by which the crowd mind entrenches itself into the systems of thought which they imply, the intellectualist or absolutist, for example.20 A crowd is not a mere gathering, but a gathering which be- haves in a certain way, although the motivation is uncon- scious; hence the crowd mentality may be distinguished from the mentality of other gatherings. A crowd is "a peculiar mental condition which occurs when people think and act together, either immediately where the members of the group are present and in close contact, or remotely, as when they affect one another in a certain way through the medium of an organization, a party or sect, the press, etc. ' '21 People may be social, as in the family, without being a crowd either in thought or action; while a mob is distinctly anti-social. Both the individual and society suffer from crowd behavior. We have a growing habit of behaving as crowds, with crowd-mindedness; hence the confusion of propagandist tongues, cults, tendency to sell our cause in the market, where as it is numbers, not values, that count, quantity, not quality. The tendency is to smother what is unique, rare, delicate, secret. To get anywhere in this progressive age you must be vulgar, one 19 Human Nature and Conduct, p. 60. 20 E. D. Martin, The Behavior of Crowds, 1920. 21 Ibid., p. 5. Group Consciousness 489 hundred per cent crowd-man, as in case of Russia: ' ' All power to the soviets." Such in spirit is the cry of every crowd, for every crowd psychologically considered is a soviet; we are in danger of being spiritually sovietized. Hence Martin holds that McDougall's social psychology does not explain crowd behavior. We are unable to say that these instincts and sentiments operate in the same way under all social conditions; some are apparently sup- pressed, and the question is, Why? How? We need LeBon's hypothesis that the crowd demands special study, we need psychoanalysis too. Unconscious Factors.-LeBon explained the crowd in terms of suggestion and the unconscious chiefly, the un- conscious being a sort of mystical humanity from which came the crowd mind in which individuals shared.22 This assumed impersonal collective mind of course has no exist- ence in sound psychology; since our minds do not fuse and run together; similarity is not identity. Yet LeBon has established two points: the crowd is essentially a psy- chical phenomenon, people behave differently in a crowd; and the unconscious has something to do with crowd thinking and acting. How then does the crowd differ from the masses? Any class may behave and think as a crowd. Yet a crowd is not necessarily the proletariat, as if the crowd were simply the creation of passion and blind emotion: this is a class prejudice. The emotional theory is not a true explanation of crowd behavior, for the crowd undoubtedly inhibits as many emotions as it releases. Pity is absent in the lynching mob, fear in bat- tle ; crowds are notoriously anaesthetic toward finer values. LeBon is right in maintaining that a crowd is not a mere aggregate of people: it is a state of mind, a peculiar psy- chical change has happened first, not the mere release of emotion, not the mere effect of suggestion and imitation. It would be nearer the fact to compare the crowd mind with dreams, delusions, various forms of automatic be- havior, regarding it as due to complexes, as in somnam- bulism, in a paranoiac episode; for the crowd ideas are Chap. II. 490 Social Psychology "fixations," always symbolic, related to something re- pressed in the unconscious. The crowd is in fact pseudo- social. Martin finds that it is difficult to get a crowd out in New York unless the subject is controversial, as in the case of the crowd spirit manifested in Cooper Union. For the people think in crowds only in platitudes, propaganda, ritual, dogma and symbol; in contrast with intelligent interest. Crowd ideas are in fact ready-made compul- sions, forms of thought which stand as objects of thinking, with ' ' a meaning for everybody, ' ' that is, for nobody. The unconscious invests these terms with its own peculiar meanings, the savage being still in us. "In the crowd the primitive ego achieves its wish by actually gaining the assent and support of a section of society. The immediate social environment is all pulled in the same direction as the unconscious desire," a simi- lar unconscious impulse motivates each member of the crowd.23 For example, in the lynching mob there is a twist of moral principle so as to approve of lynching. Every crowd thinks it is vindicating some sacred principle. The more bloody and destructive the acts, the more moral its professions. For the crowd moves in a fictitious system of ideas uncritically accepted as real, through oratory, race pride, unconscious eroticism, struggle groups, sects, cults, partisan movements. Then the crowd spirit tends to become permanent through the press, by means of prop- aganda, which in turn tends to determine the mental habits of every man. A special instance is seen, Martin holds, in the case of radicals who are fascinated with the Russian Revolution, who forthwith proclaim sentiments of human brotherhood, peace and freedom, while unconsciously doing precisely what their enemies accuse them of, namely, playing with the welcome ideas of violence, class war, and proletarian dictatorship.24 Martin concludes that all propaganda in- volves lies, every crowd is a deceiver, its first and worst deception being that of itself. Self-deception is in fact 23 Ibid., p. 35. 24 Ibid., Chap. III. Group Consciousness 491 the sine qua non of becoming a crowd, thread-bare hypoc- risies being commonplaces of the unconscious. The Egoism of the Crowd.-Martin finds the psychic censor less active in the crowd, hence the ego-conscious- ness is enhanced; the crowd insists on being flattering; it boasts for itself, with a 11 we-are-the-people idea," we are on "the band-wagon"; it idealizes those who succeed in gaining its recognition; a leader is transformed into a symbol of what the crowd wishes him to be; and it is jealous of its dignity: no crowd can afford to be laughed at.25 Again, the crowd becomes a creature of hate, with the delusion of persecution, and its members justify them- selves in hating; since most of us love to think evil of our enemies and opponents. But the crowd identifies it- self with "humanity," "the people," "society." The crowd mind as an element in the nation carries a chip on its shoulder. We note the bigotry of reformist crowds. The crowd hates in order that it may believe in itself.26 The Intellectual Element.-Martin's analysis also dis- covers absolutism in the crowd in the sense that its truths are "given," made in advance; it takes to rationalist phi- losophies, identifies itself with will-to-power, and so be- comes absolute, the greatest enemy of personality. These factors are seen at their best and their worst in the revo- lutionary crowd, the idea of a revolution itself being a crowd idea. The dominant group attains its sway by identifying itself with the public welfare, injured self- feeling dwells upon economic or political inequalities, obsessed by feelings of self-importance. Revolutionary Elements.-It takes two crowds how- ever to make a revolution: a dominant and an under-crowd, a fact which has been overlooked by writers on revolu- tions.27 The really revolutionary crowd is not the sub- stratum of the popular but the dominance of the newer element. A revolution implies the dictatorship of the new element, as we note in the successive crowds of the 25 Ibid., Chap. IV. 26 ibid., p. 132. 27 Ibid., Chap. VII. 492 Social Psychology French Revolution, in the Russian Revolution with its self-confession of "the dictatorship of the proletariat," claimed to be in reality a dictatorship of "all the people," while it was actually the same old fiction with which every dominant crowd disguises the seizure of power. Even the Pope and the king are said to derive their power from God, as "servants of all."28 In actuality the crowd mind wills to dominate. Society at large is made up of groups which seek opportunities to make their catch-words reali- ties, to establish themselves in a position of social control. The social order is always held intact by some particular crowd which happens to dominate. A revolution occurs when a new crowd pushes the old one out, and itself climbs into the saddle. Revolutions do not occur from abuses of power, for every dominant crowd abuses its power. A revolution comes usually after abuses have stopped, when the dominant crowd begins to weaken. A period of unrest and propaganda comes first, the social situation becomes increasingly acute, far-reaching changes are demanded; hence the revolutionary propaganda is not directly the cause of the insurrection, but is the effect of an unconscious reaction between a waning and a crescent crowd. Indeed, Martin concludes that a crowd never learns anything, does not solve problems, contains germs of its own destruction; and secures control only by proclaiming freedom, righteousness, brotherly love-as though these universal truths were its own invention and exclusive monopoly. Thus organized labor, a minority, seeks to establish "industrial democracy" by force. Bolshevic crowd-logic democracy means rule of a minority by force, that is, a fictitious, paranoiac crowd-logic. Every crowd demands "liberty," when it is seeking power; no crowd permits it when it is in power. It calls for a pilgrimage to regain our lost Paradise. There is nothing new pos- sible without a miracle and a brass band. Once in power, the revolutionary crowd becomes intolerant toward the vanquished crowd, demands revenge for all abuses; but forthwith is compelled to set up a dictatorship to save the 28 rbid.} p. 183. Group Consciousness 493 revolution, and so it negates the revolutionary dream of a free world. Wherever the crowd 'is, there is tyranny. Democracy and freedom do not come. To have a democ- racy it would be necessary to free ourselves from crowd- mindedness.29 Summary. -Martin's views establish the fact that crowd-mindedness exists, that in a crowd we think differ- ently; hence that at the risk of hypostasizing the group as if it had a "soul" it is important to be true to all sides of the complex phenomena, unconscious, idealistic, revolutionary. Martin shows conclusively that we have a practical psychological problem to face: how to come out of the crowd-self, to become aware of the primitive element likely to be called to the surface in war-time, in the revo- lutionary crowd, or the excited mass-meeting appealing to vulgar mentality. It is clear that in such crowds as Martin has studied in Cooper Union we are, as he says, not thinking together, but only sticking together. To come out of the crowd mind would be to learn to act to- gether in such a way that thinking and acting would no longer be divorced. Whether we are visibly members of a crowd or not, we respond to its "mind," hate because of it, agitate on account of it, take on fallacies, adopt what Martin calls "a fictitious system of ideas uncritically accepted as real." The terms "mind," "consciousness," are of course to be regarded as figurative, when applied to a group; since the group is not actually an organized super- individual or "Leviathan." The fundamental fact is the one previously noted, that man is by nature gregari- ous, with social drives likely at any time to respond to social suggestion: a group is still in some sense merely a collection, not literally an "organism," although, as we shall see more clearly in another chapter, it may become an organization. It is perfectly permissible for the indi- vidual to carry about a consciousness that he is a member of the "beloved community," as a person awakens out of his apathy when war comes and rejoices that he is one with the patriotic community which is going to ' ' make the 29 Op. cit., Chap. IX. 494 Social Psychology world safe for democracy." But the individual lives in an ideal world; there is no actual community as an entity which continues to exist after the needs of the hour have passed. The individual may be a member of a number of ideal communities, as he may enter various fictitious worlds in which catch-words play their significant parts. It is the dominant idea, motive, or sentiment then that creates the crowd. We shall meet this conception again in studying public opinion, propagandism, social conflicts. REFERENCES Dewey, J., Human Nature and Conduct, 1922, p. 60, foil. Ellwood, C. A., Social Psychology, 1917, Chaps. Ill, VI. Lippman, W., Public Opinion, 1922, pp. 197, 243. Ginsberg, M., The Psychology of Society, 1921, Chaps. IV, V. McDougall, W., The Group Mind, 1920. Conway, Sir M., The Crowd in Peace and War, 1915, Chaps I-III, V. Cooley, C. H., Social Organization, 1909, Chap. XIV. Martin, E. D., The Behavior of Crowds, 1920, Chaps. I-VIII. Wissler, C., Man and Culture, 1923, Chap. XIII. CHAPTER XXXI PROPAGANDISM AND PUBLIC OPINION It has been said that propagandism began as soon as men became capable of conscious judgment, and sought to influence one another. Thus regarded, its history is intimately connected with all efforts at education, pub- licity, proselytism, and it has long occupied a respectable position. But with the increase of class consciousness, the development and widespread activities of radical parties and secret orders, and the coming of the World War, propagandism assumed other forms, everybody was brought in direct contact with it, the situation became complex, people were put on the alert, and skepticism arose concerning any influence set down as propaganda. When all social groups make use of tracts, folders, reports, paid articles in the magazines and papers, books produced to foster a '1 cause, ' ' supported by huge sums of money, prop- agandism loses its force, and influence in general is dis- counted. A kind of hysteria also prevails, when propa- gandism is taken too seriously. Even public events of great moment are attributed to propaganda, and the mere word is substituted for an explanation. Thus capitalism is supposed to accomplish its purpose because it can "subsidize the press." Socialists of every school put their hopes in a counteracting propaganda. Anarchists send out warning leaflets to tell the world what shall presently befall it. Bolshevism reaches out with threatening schemes. If radicalism in any way fails to carry out its program for overturning the existing eco- nomic order and substituting one that is "red," it is be- cause "hostile propaganda" anticipated the overthrow and interfered at the eleventh hour. Wars were once said to be due to secret diplomacy, but 495 496 Social Psychology now propagandism is given first rank. We did not enter the World War for humane reasons, but because we were bought up by " British gold, ' ' corrupted by commercialism in general! Making use of propaganda in all its forms, the Germans charged to propagandists in other lands what- ever opposition they saw fit to cover with words rather than acknowledge as matter of fact. Zeppelins were sent to England to produce ''psychological effects," and the submarine war was pushed for similar reasons. When the war was over the insinuations continued, with slight vari- ations. It was then said that the reason Americans did not side with Germany when France "invaded" the Ruhr was that French propagandism made it impossible for us to see things as they were. Inspired News.-While propagandism was formerly re- garded as an educational force of real value, with the hope that facts would win and truth would tell, during the war it became a means of trying to win people to a point of view when the facts were quite otherwise, when it seemed imperative to blind the world to real motives. The at- tempts were often transparent because of the obtuseness of the aggressive nation to the real attitude of their op- ponents ; and the world came to believe that the aggressors understood no nation save their own, and their own in terms of strange psychology. It seemed necessary for mili- tary reasons to keep the facts concerning the successes and strength of the Allies, notably the strength of rapidly arriving Americans in France, from the masses of the people. "Inspired news" became the order of the day as never before, a loss in battle was celebrated as a victory, a retreat was a ' ' strategic move to another position. ' ' This process went on in Germany till the truth became known in full vigor, with a subsequent loss which showed once more how very great is the influence of morale. Thus a falsifying propagandism defeated itself, and led to still further skepticism. Allied Propaganda.-Yet appeal to propaganda was no less urgent among the Allies. Military communiques sent out in France were in accordance with what was deemed Propagandism and Public Opinion 497 wise for the people to know, to make the Allied publics see matters as desired by the General Staff. Casualty figures were intended to provoke certain inferences. It was neces- sary to arouse and sustain certain national attitudes, by reference to principles of strategy, expectations based on what the people had been permitted to know during a con- siderable period. In the United States a remarkable con- certed effort was made to attain unanimity and increase the morale for the sake of winning the war. Hence a cer- tain enforced idealism was put over by means of a per- sistent organization involving national censorship and an aggressive campaign. To make this program effective, it was deemed necessary to take away many privileges of a free press and free speech. It was an offense to question the principles by which this propagandism was sustained. The people who had enjoyed the greatest privileges of free speech in human history were granted much less freedom for the time being than the public in countries where mili- tarism had long held sway. The Devices.-What concerns us psychologically is not the merits or demerits of national propagandisms, but to note the extent to which recognition was given to the fact that in a psychologizing age people must be reached by psychological devices. Zeppelins sent to England in con- nection with an alarmist propagandism actually produced the opposite results, and hastened enlistments. The use of the long-range guns trained on Paris, even during Easter Sunday, helped to awaken the world to the real motives and methods of "the campaign of frightfulness." Messages in English, and newspapers in French, dropped from airplanes to influence American and French soldiers were palpably absurd and utterly without the effects de- sired. Inspired news carried to the limit bred new skepti- cism concerning the press everywhere, and accomplished more than Upton Sinclair's Brass Check. Posters and slogans were often very effective suggestions. By the aid of community singing, appeals to the flag, the singing of "The Star Spangled Banner," emotional references to the men overseas, the fostering of bond-issues, a remarkable 498 Social Psychology unity of spirit was actually attained. The power of censor- ship was also shown. Any number of public inhibitions were put into effect. In the belligerent countries every psychological influence was used to create an attitude im- perative for the time being, whatever the usual opposition. A different set of values obtained, political and even re- ligious differences were subordinated. The crowd spirit was enlisted to the full. The power of a unifying motive was witnessed on a large scale. Pacifism and Hate.-Many secondary phases of such propagandism also became apparent. The pacifist seemed to himself, and to his friends who "proved" him right by objecting to him, the only person opposed to war. Thus the conscientious objector called special attention to himself, and some in England refused to take any sort of order from any one connected with military authority, even when to refuse to obey meant a jail sentence. It was alleged that propaganda enforced "to keep up the slaughter" was the work of all the rest of us, who were supposed actually to like war! Even the men who were doing the slaughter- ing were supposedly in favor of it. Men who served in the auxiliary forces at great personal sacrifice were said to be doing wrong by going to France at all, even as friends to the soldier! Again, to be a pacifist was to be a pro-German or a radical socialist in disguise, so it was easily assumed. Some tried the impossible by announcing themselves as "neutral," as doubting all propaganda, all war-news of friend and foe alike. In Germany after the war, enforced pacifism became the order of the day, because Germany was disarmed and unable to make war. When France entered the Ruhr to collect just debts, it was a "military invasion." When anybody proposed moderate preparedness as "the lesson of the war," he was put down as a "militarist" pure and simple. To venture to account for the war by attributing it in part to other nations than Germany, was to be a "victim of the latest propaganda." The Utility of Propaganda.-The pros and cons of propa- ganda are seen in the case of "news" about Russia since Propagandism and Public Opinion 499 the Revolution. Friends of Bolshevism assured us that all news given out by the capitalist press was produced in England. If this propagandism against sovietism had been even half true, Russia ought indeed to have collapsed be- fore 1920. Another propaganda, started by socialists who painted the situation in Russia in glowing colors, reacted against the socialist party and greatly thinned its ranks. Waves of opinion about sovietism tended to create two opposed attitudes, so that when Foster and other supposed agents of sovietism in the United States were brought to trial, the whole idea of an attempt to destroy the Govern- ment was put down by one party as a "frame-up," and Foster and his associates were said to be greatly maligned people. Mere assertion was deemed sufficient evidence that the Government had stooped so low as to "father many lies about Russia." But any attack on propagandism was regarded as a veiled effort to sustain some other propa- ganda. Where all is propaganda what is accomplished? Relation to the Crowd Spirit.-Recalling our studies of group consciousness, we again emphasize the fact that the specialist crowd, advocating a "cause," adopts a "fictitious system of ideas uncritically accepted as real" (Martin). Hence w'e find that the catch-words and phrases put in circulation from time to time act as suggestions to sustain this pseudo-system, and keep attention away from counter- suggestions sent out by the opposing party. The partisan- ship of a narrow class is fostered in the same way. Every new union or organization must have its propaganda to keep the accepted point of view before its members. Such a union, wherever its members may be located, constitutes a crowd, and a new member, joining the union because of a particular grievance or interest, becomes an element of the crowd, representing what the crowd stands for, subject to its rules, sustaining its principles, even when loyalty to the organization may involve conflict of loyalties imposing serious difficulties on the individual. The main point of interest psychologically lies in the espousal of this "fic- titious system" accepted as real. Very genuine problems of social justice may be involved in the issues which lead 500 Social Psychology the individual to sacrifice some of his rights, that he may have the benefit of the union. Many good results may come from the activities of the union. Nevertheless, in the form in which the good is combined with the bad the system of ideas may be as far from reality as the policy of a political party adopted for campaign purposes and forthwith aban- doned when the campaign is over. So too the propaganda of a fighting nation, such as Germany, may move in a uni- verse of discourse which is sustained only so long as the masses can be kept from learning facts which disclose its falsity. The worst thing that can happen to propagandism of such types is some contingency which suggests a com- parison between the fictitious universe and the real one, in which, as we say, "actions speak louder than words." Socialism.-A recent writer has divided all socialist propaganda as follows: (1) philosophical, an attempt to justify the proposed socialist order by logical argument based on historical data, and an analysis of contemporary and economic conditions; a sincere and sober effort to reach and convert thinking people, for the most part restrained and plausible (Spargo, Hillquit, Laidler, Walling, G. B. Shaw) ; (2) emotional, used in lengthy articles, in speeches, letters to the press protesting against measures adopted by the Government to protect the great mass of law-abiding citizens from disorder and violence incident to some cause; all prosecutions are referred to as "persecutions," if those convicted of violating the law did so in the course of at- tempting to further their cause; persistent fault-finding indulged in in regard to existing conditions, governmental and economic; reports of the brutalities of the capitalist system; unqualified assumption of the universal venality of legislatures and courts; unqualified antitheses of rich and poor; hence appeals to envy, hatred, passion; the assumed loftiness of its own type of propaganda; un- reasoned and unreasoning idealization of Liberty, e.g., in agitation for freedom of speech and of the press; specious and sophistic arguments calculated to confuse many; (3) dishonest, as in the case of recent falsifications of the situ- ation in Russia, where the salvation of the masses is said to Propagandise, and Public Opinion 501 be in process, then the facts on the other side are branded as capitalistic lies; half-truths are used which are more pernicious than out-and-out falsehoods; (4) crudely inflam- matory statements are put forth among the lowest strata, the illiterates, the incompetents, the lazy, also the foreign- born who have come from lands of governmental and eco- nomic oppression; every possible means are used to stir up suspicion of and hatred for the Government; envy and class hatred are stirred up; direct encitements to violence; the jealousy, greed, and passion of the masses subtly ap- pealed to.1 This classification might be applied to any cause which includes all types of men. Philosophical or educational propaganda in the good sense of the word endeavors to arouse the public to certain groups of facts, and does not fear comparisons. Emotional propaganda moves to some extent in a fictitious universe, and takes advantage of the fact that as the masses are emotional they may be reached by mass-suggestion, and so may be convinced of principles which the propaganda is organized to sustain. Dishonest propaganda deliberately creates a fictitious universe, falsi- fies the situation in the social groups in question, ignores the facts and truths on the other side. Crudely inflam- matory propaganda is based on the fact that ignorance may be counted in its favor, since there is not intelligence enough to compare the fictitious with the real universe. Public Opinion.-It is plain that public opinion is far wider in origin and scope than group consciousness, unless we have reference to the group consciousness of a great nation. For public opinion is a collective result of the interaction of many groups, it becomes more widespread with the increase of communication between nations, and facilities for rapid circulation of news. With the breaking down of tradition and the overcoming of isolation, there has been a remarkable increase in the power of public opinion in modern times. It has increased in influence among the more democratic peoples, so that we have come to associate what we call "enlightened public opinion" i W. H. Doughty, Socialism and the Average Man, 1922, Chap. V. 502 Social Psychology with democracy. Without public opinion there could have been little progress toward freedom in any direction. It is something other than uniformity, and yet in a given in- stance it stands for a measure of unanimity such that when it has done its work the leaders of a nation are in a position to formulate laws, adopt standards, foster the public good. Common Sense.-Looking back into history, we note that public opinion bears intimate relation to what we call ' ' common sense. ' ' Long before public opinion as we know it began to exist, the experiences of individuals took form in practical wisdom which was handed down from age to age. No leaders, no nations created common sense; it has simply come into being impersonally, and its force is seen in contrast with new opinions in the form of a natural cor- rective. Individuals try to renounce common sense, par- ticularly in their youth. The world as a whole seeks at times to depart from it. Men of science sometimes indulge in every other conceivable hypothesis until they at last return to it, through enforced recognition of its superiority. Common sense is indeed the unwritten wisdom of the ages which we unwittingly respond to as our criterion. But common sense regarded in this way as a product of the ages to which all lines of thought have contributed must be looked upon as in considerable measure the result of pub- lic opinion. We are always bringing new issues to the fore, discussing them, seeking reactions from all points of view, then handing down to the next generation the result- ing views which have survived controversy in the form of public opinion. Sanctity of Public Opinion.-From a prevalent point of view in social psychology it has been customary to regard public opinion as far higher in standards of tolerance, justice, the right, than the majority of individuals. In this sense public opinion is the source of the sanctions of all public acts, the highest court of appeal, formed and maintained by the influence of leading personalities. It is regarded as more in conformity with the sentiments of the best men than with the average, as in every way above private opinion, an expression of the tone or attitude of Propagandism and Public Opinion 503 mind which prevails throughout the nation, due more to the dead than to the living, that is, as an expression of moral sentiment firmly and traditionally established.2 Looked at in this way public opinion is, as Cooley points out, no mere aggregate of separate individual opinions, bat an "organization," a cooperative product of communi- cation and reciprocal influence? Thus a group may be said to "make up its mind," as individuals interact with others, all minds are searched for pertinent material, until the minds in a communicating group become a single or- ganic whole. The result is no mere agreement but a certain ripeness and stability of thought resulting from discussion pursued till people really know what they think about certain measures which have been brought before them, certain "platforms," candidates, creeds, reforms, as in the case of the controversy over slavery before the Civil War. The outcome of such discussion is not a mere "popular impression," which would be facile, slow, and transient; not a mere working of the average or commonplace mind; but a representative or preponderant feeling expressing a considerable measure of uniformity and authority. Public opinion does not then represent the lower level of mentality in a group. It is more likely to bear the impress or repre- sent the matured judgment of leaders who have had the benefit of public discussion. As thus defined, public opin- ion should be distinguished from mere crowd mentality. Deterrents.-In a given group much will of course de- pend on the leaders, the respect which they command, the traditions which influence both leaders and masses; and on the degree of free speech permitted, the influence of the press, and other factors militating against or making for freedom. Much too will depend on the general state of affairs in the nation, in peace or war; also on the state of the world, the diplomatic and other subtle influences at work, the prevalence of a spy system, the intensities of class consciousness. It is not difficult to see what are the ideal conditions for the development and spread of public 2 W. McDougall, The Group Mind, pp. 263, 271. 3 Social Organization, Chap. XII. 504 Social Psychology opinion at its best. But with the development of propa- gandism there has been a far-reaching disturbance of con- ditions formerly making for sound public opinion. We now see more clearly why public opinion has been inferior in quality in lands where freedom of utterance was limited, where it was possible in a measure to discuss, but only in slight degree to act. To America oppressed people have come from all over the world, to air their grievances, to give expression to radical views of social reform and social revolution. In America, first among nations, it be- came possible to enjoy that freedom of expression which is essential to the highest state of development, as one of the best safeguards against social catastrophes, as a means toward widespread social control. But in this same "land of liberty" of ours we have witnessed the greatest abuses of this freedom, the most persistent attempts to regulate public opinion. We had looked to the press as the surest means of maintaining free opinion, but with the commer- cializing of the press we became skeptical. To arrive at what he takes to be public opinion a person must read far more extensively in the newspapers and popular magazines today. If we once had too much liberty, the second state wherein there is too much regulation may be said to be worse than the first. By contrast, however, we may look back to the earlier days of the republic as the days which gave the world the ideal of thoroughly free and wholly enlightened public opinion. The difficulty today is to single out the determining factors in all this complexity of "interests," parties, radicalisms, and propagandism. As Means of Control.-The social function of public opinion has been said to be to mediate in the transition from one type of social activity to another (Ellwood). "It is a selective process which has to do with the construction of new social habits and institutions. ' '4 That is, as- our social life comes more under the sway of conscious and rational processes, we find that our customs, laws, and insti- tutions come more and more to rest on public opinion. Hence we note that traditions, customs, laws, and the like * Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 155. Propagandise, and Public Opinion 505 have by no means survived in their primitive forms, but under forms which have withstood the tests and trans- formations due to public opinion. We can not indeed truly describe any of the regulative institutions apart from pub- lic opinion, which may be regarded as the chief instrument of social control. Hence Ellwood looks forward to the probable development of a more rational public opinion as the most promising factor in our progress. Rationalization.-If we are to have this more rational public opinion, it is plain that we must apply our pro- founder psychological knowledge and find a way to reckon with the more complex situation which the war imposed upon us. It is not an easy matter to "rationalize" today. We are still in the presence of elemental forces. We are not so near the democratic level as we had supposed. The process is not so simple as it appeared to the founders of the republic-when the old psychology still prevailed. America had not yet become the melting-pot of the nations. It we shall understand the states of mind of those who have come, discontented, from lands of discontent to respond to propagandism here, we must take into account the full psychology of the herd. Before we can rationalize we need a scheme wherewith to classify the elements going to make up this complex result voiced in conflicting public opinions and trying to come to clearness once more. Our Two Environments.-Walter Lippman suggests that the way out of the tangle is to begin by distinguishing between the environment in which we live, and the picture we have of this environment which we take to be true and by which we act.5 For until we know what others think they know, we can not understand their acts. Into the opinions of people there enter (1) the casual fact, (2) the creative imagination, and (3) the will to believe; out of these elements is produced a counterfeit of reality to which people respond as powerfully as they would to reality itself. Thus people construct great men with fictitious characters. In wartime all the virtues are seen in Joffre, Foch, and the other great generals or leaders; while the b Public Opinion, 1922. 506 Social Psychology Kaiser, Lenin and Trotsky become personifications of all that is evil. For the time being Wilson, Clemenceau and Lloyd George become the incarnation of human hopes; then the scene changes and our views are very different. We all believed for the moment in the Russian army which passed through England in August, 1914. Granted the in- centive, with a predisposition to believe, fostered by preva- lent conditions, we generate the counterfeit of reality to which we respond with instinctive violence. The Element of Fiction.-According to Lippman's scheme, the one common factor in all these reactions on the world is ''the insertion between man and his environment of a pseudo-environment, ' ' and to that pseudo-environment his behavior is a response. At the level of what is called the adjustment of man to his environment, social life takes place through the medium of fictions. The real environ- ment is altogether too large and too complex, also too fleet- ing for direct acquaintance. We do not yet know how men would respond to what Graham Wallas calls the Great Society. At best we know how men behave in response to a most inadequate picture of that society. Plainly, no conclusion can honestly be arrived at either about men or about the Great Society under such conditions.6 What each man does is based, not on direct and certain knowl- edge, but on pictures made by himself or given to him. The way in which a man imagines the world determines at any particular moment what he hopes; his efforts, his feelings, and what he will do. The Triangle of Relations.-Hence we have to do with a triangular relationship: (1) the scene of action; (2) the human picture of that scene; (3) the human response to that picture working itself out upon the scene of action. In this double drama of interior motive and external behavior, we readily take a fiction for a truth if we need that fiction very badly. Thus we have men acting in their real en- vironment moved by stimuli from their pseudo-environ- ment. Two nations at war live in the same world, but think and feel in different ones. Fictions determine a large part 6 Op. cit., p. 25. Propagandism and Public Opinion 507 of our political behavior. It is not primarily a question of the innate differences between men, but of the extraor- dinary differences in what men know of the world, that is, the power of the pseudo-environment which is compounded of human nature and the conditions under which human nature exists. Thus "class consciousness" is a way of realizing the world, so too is national consciousness. How We Read.-"We are concerned in public affairs, but immersed in our private ones." Lippman concludes on the basis of statistical investigations that we devote little time to newspapers to inform ourselves. The ideas which we allow the words we read to evoke form the big- gest part of the original data of our opinions. The world is vast, the situations that concern us are intricate, the messages are few; hence the biggest part of our opinion must be constructed out of the imagination. Few of our facts are really given. A report of an event is a joint product of knower and known, the observer being selective, and usually creative. The facts which we believe we see depend on where we are placed, and on the habits of our eyes. In general we do not first see, then define, we define first and then see. ' ' In that helter-skelter which we flatter by the name of civilization, the citizen performs the perilous business of government under the worst condi- tions. ' ' Stereotypes.-Lippman calls our forms of culture ' ' stereotypes, ' ' which we carry about with us in our heads, with a strange connection between our vision and the facts. We are told about the world before we see it, we imagine most things before we experience them; what matters is the stereotypes and the gullibility with which we employ them, the presuppositions, inclusive patterns which con- stitute our philosophy. A pattern of stereotypes is the guarantee of our self-respect, the defense of our position in society, the projection upon the world of our own sense of our own value, our rights, the fortress of our tradition. A stereotype imposes a certain character on the data of our senses before the data reach the intelligence, stamps itself upon the evidence in the very act of securing the evidence. 508 Social Psychology Our stereotyped world is the kind of world we expect it to be, according to the standards proposed by the few, the notions of progress and perfection which prevail, the re- ligion of success, the love of the superlative and the peer- less, the American version of progress.7 Codes.-Of course it follows from Lippman's premises that stereotypes and facts part company.8 Our images of how things behave are simpler and more fixed than the ebb and flow of affairs. We have whole constellations of imagery. Whatever we recognize as familiar we tend to visualize with the aid of images already in the mind. Ad- justing ourselves to our code, we adjust our facts to that code. Rationally, the facts are neutral to all our views of right and wrong. At the core of the code there is a picture of human nature, a map of the universe, and a version of history. To human nature (as thus conceived) in a uni- verse of the sort imagined, after a history so understood, the rules of the code apply.9 Lippman applies this searching analysis alike to moral codes, patriotism, special sciences, the commercial code, and public opinion as a moralized and codified version of the facts. Thus a capitalist sees one set of facts, and certain aspects of human nature, literally sees them; wThile his socialist opponent sees another set and other aspects; each regards the other as unreasonable or perverse, howbeit the real difference between them is a perception.10 Only when we are in the habit of recognizing our opinions as a partial experience seen through our stereotypes, do we become truly tolerant of an opponent. A great deal of trouble arises when people decline to classify themselves as we have them classified. Anything can be related to anything else, provided it feels like it. The mind has no way of knowing how preposterous it is. Ancient fears, reinforced by more recent fears, coagulate into a snarl of fears, where anything that is dreaded is the cause of anything else that is dreaded. Thus we fabricate systems of evil. Symbols.-What inference is to be drawn from all this ? f Ibid., Chap. VIII. 8 See Chap. IX. 8 Op. tit., p. 122. io Ibid., p. 125. Propagandise and Public Opinion 509 Lippman holds that the man who captures the symbols by which public feeling is for the moment contained controls by that much the approaches of public policy. A par- ticular symbol has the power of coalition, for example, Lincoln's name, "Holy Russia," "The Little Father," ' ' The Fourteen Points. ' ' The symbols are made congenial and important by being introduced by important people. The leader moves the crowd by a symbol. In the symbol "emotion is discharged at a common target."11 Nation- ality is "a core of images and devotions" without which the individual is unthinkable to himself. We tend to per- sonalize quantities and to dramatize relations. Animism is the deepest of all stereotypes. A Warning.-Lippman's analysis strikes home so deeply that we seem to be lost in psychological relativities, as if we could never regain the public opinion which seemed so close to reality. But even ardent partisans who have a cause to promote still bear testimony to the power of en- lightened public opinion. The secretary of a miner's union recently gave expression to the conviction that "there is something in America just now that is tender and sensitive, and that is public opinion. There is no more potential force in the country than that of public opinion. Proceed in an intelligent manner, weigh well your needs, and pre- sent them at the bar of public justice. ... I do not believe it possible for any group of men to win a struggle in America provided public opinion is crystallized against them." A newspaper editor, commenting on this utter- ance said: "No truer words have been uttered in the long battle of industrialism for its rights, or what it claims as rights. Crystallized public opinion is invincible, and it may be taken as a reliable expression of the public will that the press of the country ... at this time gravely and ex- plicitly is warning both mine workers and mine operators that the nation will not again stand for being held up by them through the calamity of a great coal strike ' ' (Cincin- nati Enquirer). ii Op. cit., p. 234. 510 Social Psychology Summary.-To put an estimate on any propaganda one needs to know its universe of discourse, since it is farther and farther removed from reality in proportion as it gen- erates a fictitious universe, moves in a "pseudo-environ- ment" developed in behalf of more or less violent parti- sanship. The radical propagandist makes deliberate use of this pseudo-environment in which thought is compelled to move so long as the social group in question can be held in subjection. The cause may be a worthy one, and in war- time very much may be at stake. Yet the fact remains that the "inspired news" sent forth must be such as to arouse appropriate lines of thought according to the policy determined upon, and the situation as thus characterized may be remote from the world of facts. Oftentimes there are not facts enough to support the position of those who seek their ends by "influence," so the material at hand, however authentic, must be re-fashioned to suit the de- mands of the cause. The willingness of the people to be- lieve is tested to the utmost. But the process of enlarging upon meager facts in order to foster the interests of a social group may also be used in behalf of ideals; and so we note that propagandism may run through all human motives, from philosophical reasons to crude emotions sustained by ignorance. We advance by means of ideals, symbols, heroes, great principles put before the public in appealing form. Over against the pseudo-environment we should put the ideal environment in which many of us live for the sake of the family, the nation, art, science, religion. Public opinion has played a very great part in fostering the best. Not all propaganda is baneful. Not all news is to be dis- credited. Every one needs his world of thought, his pat- terns, if not his stereotypes; and there are pictures we carry about in our heads which aid us in fostering the moral development of the world. Public opinion survives its vicissitudes, and the truth eventually becomes known, even in war-time, with all the censorship; and in times of social revolution, with all the attempts to distort the situa- tion for the sake of sustaining our particular cause. The remarkable fact is that on occasion all of us believe '1 news ' ' Propagandism and Public Opinion 511 that for the moment is probable, as in the case of the fic- titious Russian army which crossed England in 1914. We believe the news if it accords with what we have reason for wanting to believe at that particular juncture. REFERENCES Neilson, Francis, How Diplomats Make War, 1915. Doughty, W. H., Socialism and the Average Man, 1922, Chaps. VI, VII. McDougall, W., The Group Mind, 1920, pp. 263, 271. Cooley, C. H., Social Organization, 1909, Chap. XII. Ellwood, C. A., Introd, to Social Psychoolgy, 1917, p. 155. Lippman, W., Public Opinion, 1922. Wilder and Buell, Publicity, 1923. CHAPTER XXXII DELINQUENCY AND CRIME We have already noted the fact that intelligence tests have afforded means for discovering feeble-mindedness. One of the early results was the extension of the concep- tion of feeble-mindedness to include milder degrees of mental defect than had previously been associated with the term. Formerly, most of the higher-grade defectives were overlooked, the low-grade moron being on the whole the highest type of defective identified. Tests showed that about two per cent of the children enrolled in the schools had a grade of intelligence such that they would never develop beyond the level which is normal to the average child of 11 or 12 years (Tcrman). The large majority of these belonged to the moron grade, that is, their mental development would stop somewhere between the 7-year level and the 12-year level. Further extension of the tests has meant the disclosure of more high-grade defectives needing the surveillance and protection of society. The prime result should be the curtailing of the reproduction of feeble-mindedness, and the elimination of an enormous amount of crime, pauperism, and industrial inefficiency. Delinquents.-Another result of the tests was the fact of the frequent association of delinquency and mental de- ficiency, the relationship having been underestimated even by the most competent students of criminology. More stress had previously been put on the physical than on the mental correlates of crime. It is estimated, as a result of the tests, that at least 25 per cent of our criminals are instances of mental weakness. The physical abnormalities previously noted are now regarded as the bodily accom- paniments of feeble-mindedness. Terman gives highly sig- 512 Delinquency and Crime 513 nificant statistics to show how radically the situation has changed since the tests made it possible to discover mental delinquency in a precise manner, notably the case of 36 per cent out of 100 girls in the Ohio State Reformatory whose commitment papers had given the pronouncement, ' ' intellect sound. ' '1 Types of Delinquency.-The Vineland Laboratory for the psychological study of feeble-mindedness was opened in 1906, and the Binet tests were applied by Dr. Goddard to determine the levels of intelligence of mental defectives, on the basis of the following facts: (1) the intelligence develops for the most part independently of what we call learning or knowledge; (2) not all individuals develop to the highest level or even near it, many stop at some of the lower levels of childhood. A delinquent, literally one who has been left over, is defined as one who does not come up to the mark in the performance of those duties which the group has placed upon every member.2 Delinquency is an offense because it impairs the efficiency of the group. Among delinquents as a whole Goddard notes two classes: (1) those whose delinquency is the result of conditions beyond their control (a defect) ; (2) those whose delin- quency is the result of carelessness, indifference, or a waste- ful refusal to comply with the demands of the group as a whole (an offense). Another grouping refers to juvenile and adult criminality. Results of Low Mentality.-Goddard finds the juvenile case more readily studied, since it is simpler, the causes are more fundamental, and the causes may be more easily overcome, and the individual reformed. The causes are not of course attributed to "wickedness," a term which is too vague and general. It is not a mere question of size and age, as if one could simply affirm that an individual is ' ' big enough and old enough and ought to do better. ' ' It is a question of mental level. Perhaps the offender did not know any better, was not intelligent enough to learn. 1 See Terman, The Measurement of Intelligence, Chap. I. 2 H. H. Goddard, Human Efficiency and Levels of Intelligence, 1920. 514 Social Psychology Hence the offender should not be met in a hostile attitude as already judged "guilty" and responsible. The results of Goddard's investigations show, "beyond all question," that nearly all persons known as criminals, misdemeanants, delinquents, are of low mentality, while a large per cent are feeble-minded. The greatest single cause of delinquency and crime is low-grade mentality. Insanity is also a cause. A fair percentage of juvenile de- linquents are suffering from mental disease. Causes are also found among acquired mental conditions, as in the case of children who have been brought up in crime by criminal parents. Others merely yield to natural instincts, the consequences of which have not been pointed out. Some delinquents are amenable to treatment, while others call for methods of detention. Criminals may be classified under the heads of the accidental or involuntary, and the professional or voluntary. Degenerate Families.-Nearly everybody has heard by this time of the special studies of degenerate families, such as the Kallikaks, Jukes, and the Nams. The best-known case is that of the Kallikak family, product of a youthful soldier and a feeble-minded girl, whose son was feeble- minded, a family which in 1921 numbered 480 known di- rect descendants: 36 illegitimate, 33 sexually immoral, 24 confirmed alcoholics, and 8 who kept houses of ill-fame; 143 being feeble-minded, while many others wTere of ques- tionable mentality. Returning from the war, this same progenitor, Martin Kallikak, married a respectable girl of good family; 496 individuals resulted from this union in direct descent, with no illegitimate children, no immoral women, and only one known as sexually loose; there were no criminals, no keepers of houses of ill-fame, and only two confirmed alcoholics; there was not a single feeble- minded individual in this branch of the family, but there were doctors, lawyers, judges, educators, traders, and landholders. Morality.-Terman's answer to the question why the feeble-minded tend so strongly to become delinquent is that morality depends on (1) the ability to foresee and to weigh Delinquency and Crime 515 the possible consequences for self and others of different kinds of behavior, and (2) on the willingness and capacity to exercise self-restraint. There are intelligent criminals because the first condition may exist without the second. The second condition presupposes the first. All feeble- minded are at least potential criminals, since moral judg- ment is a function of intelligence. Respect for the feelings, property rights, or any other kind of rights of others is laboriously learned through discipline, when instincts are curbed, when conduct is made to conform to principles on the part of those who possess sufficient intelligence. Causes of Feeble-Mindedness.-Although feeble-mind- edness in exceptional cases arises from brain injury at the time of birth, or from such a disease as cerebrospinal meningitis, during early childhood, it is not generally traceable to such causes, but is found to be inherent in the individual, in the family stock. An occasional feeble- minded child may be born of parents who are both normal, if mental deficiency has occurred in some of the ancestral lines; if both parents are feeble-minded all the children w'ill be either feeble-minded or dull. It is plain that en- vironmental influences can not be said to account for feeble-mindedness in families where some of the children are feeble-minded, others not. Results of the Tests.-Hamblin Smith, who has had many years of experience in local and convict prisons in England, has found it necessary to make use of tests, to learn anything about the offender's conscious mind; but he calls attention to the fact that the Binet scheme was in- tended for French school children, and the Terman scheme for American children, and these facts should be taken into account.3 The tests are available for offenders up to the age of about eighteen years; as a rule, persons over the age of thirty years do not react well to formal schemes of tests, and the results of tests derived from such subjects are misleading. A satisfactory test should be capable of arousing at least moderate interest, as the cooperation of the subject is 3 The Psychology of the Criminal, 1923, p. 3. 516 Social Psychology essential; it must be free from any undue appearance of childishness; it must be fairly easy to grasp; must estimate the results of the subject's formal school education; must not be unduly favorable to a certain class of defectives; and should be capable of interpretation in terms of definite mental processes. By the aid of the standard tests, such characteristics should be brought out as memory, attention, observation, power of planning a task, ability to profit by errors, capacity to understand directions, and to grasp the essentials of a situation. A failure in any considerable number of these tests is proof of defect of intelligence. No definite proportion of failures appears to be essential for the diagnosis of defects of intelligence. It is very se- ductive to be able to state intelligence with reference to mental age, but there are serious objections and difficulties; it is not clear that we are entitled to speak of "mental age" as if it represented an actual reality: it would be neces- sary to compare abnormal maturity with healthy imma- turity. The most devoted adherent of the Binet scale will hardly claim that the non-attainment of any particular mental age is in itself enough to establish mental deficiency as a diagnosis; no scale of intelligence will ever give a true estimate of an individual's status. There must also be thorough mental and physical study of the subject. There is no standard as yet with which to compare delinquents. Tests do not measure loyalty, bravery, power to command, or the emotional traits which enable a man to ' ' carry on. ' ' A person should be in a proper condition for testing, as illness may make a great difference in the results obtained; and the examiner must be in suitable mood for conducting the examination. Apart from the tests, a subject's general demeanor and bearing should be observed. Mental de- fectives tend to be highly suggestible, and this factor must always be taken into account. Degeneracy.-Lombroso, who greatly advanced the study of the offender, is sometimes referred to as the founder of the anatomical school of criminology. His view of the criminal was based on generalizations now regarded as unsound, his conclusions are therefore regarded as er- Delinquency and Crime 517 roneous. The offender was regarded as an atavistic sur- vival. Lombroso put emphasis on the relation between epilepsy and delinquency. His chief contribution to the study of the criminal was in his insistence that the offender should be studied by himself. It is no longer customary since his day to speak of a criminal type of cranium or ear, and the "stigmata of degeneration" are regarded in a different light. It is necessary to study the inner life of conflict and the immediate mental mechanisms which were instrumental in producing the delinquency. The stigmata may be regarded as of some moment, since physical abnor- malities of the cranium, palate, ear, hair, etc., may indicate interior abnormalities, and may be taken as signs that other parts of the body are inferior, although superiority in one organ may compensate for deficiency in another organ. Hamblin Smith holds that Lombroso was not far wrong when he regarded the criminal as an atavistic survival. But, like Columbus, Lombroso did not rightly recognize the country which he had discovered. Morel's hypothesis that hereditary degeneracy is respon- sible for practically all kinds of nervous and mental dis- order, and that after four generations nature wipes out the degenerate stock, has not been confirmed. Cases now classified under the head of degeneracy usually show some abnormal state of the mental machinery, such as increased or defective sensitivity, or some rare form of ideation; while another group with marked physical signs of de- generacy indicates that ancestral experiences have been the causes. Nordau's theory was offered to account for crim- inal tendencies on the ground of parasitic qualities devel- oping as the result of an indefinite farm of degeneracy. All eases may, however, be grouped under one or the other of two heads: " (1) those in which there is a definite impair- ment of the mentality, and (2) those in which the intel- lectual functions are not markedly disturbed, but whose mechanisms shaping the emotional reactions seem to be so peculiarly susceptible to incident stimuli that the control of voluntary activity is most difficult" (Paton). Myerson believes that the neuropathic constitution differs from the 518 Social Psychology normal one in the lack of a normal determiner. Paton's results suggest the need of intelligence tests as the clue to the presence or absence of normal determiners.4 Physical Defects.-S. G. Smith expresses the opinion that despite the ingenious marshaling of facts concerning degenerate signs and tokens in the flesh, one criminal whose body and brain are normal, or one good citizen with abnor- mal brain and body, would suffice to destroy the whole theory of the physical origin of crime.5 There are thou- sands of criminals who arc physically normal, and tens of thousands of well-balanced citizens marked with stigmata. It is clear then that we are free from the fatalism of physical form, and the phrenology of criminal investiga- tion. Although the brain is the organ of the mind, it does not hold the mind a prisoner, nor does it even register the units of intellectual force. Every biological theory has failed because it has not been large enough to include the facts. The influences which shape the human mind are not chiefly physical, but are expressed in terms of social or- ganization. The criminal is in brief the anti-social man, the non-conformist. Sin.-The former notion that sin is a cause of delin- quency, evil, and crime-as due to inherent tendencies of the individual-was obviously far too general. If as a race we were "fallen," no special light was thrown on crime as one of the consequences. The tendency to blame the individual as if solely responsible, was no less sweeping. Psychological analysis has disclosed no faculty of wicked- ness in man. It is always a question of degree. Until the philosophy of evolution threw light on the animal origin of man's "lower" nature, there was little opportunity to reason from a basis of fact with regard to possible sublima- tion from lower to higher. The whole situation has changed with the development of a scientific view of heredity, environment, social disease. The sometime gen- eral fact of "sin" is now a series of facts to be regarded in the light of biological, sociological, and psychological 4 See Human Behavior, p. 386. 5 Social Pathology, 1911, p. 160. Delinquency and Crime 519 considerations. We have noted above that there are now various approaches to the study of man's hidden nature, and we have yet to consider the changes which psychology has wrought in religious views of man's "lower nature" and deeper self. Responsibility.-This is one of the most difficult ques- tions from any point of view.6 The question of freedom of will is handed over to ethics, and for practical purposes determinism is the basis on which the specialist in psychol- ogy works. The will has ceased to be the separate and responsible entity into which it was once reared. It is now a question of individual volitions, subject to natural law, with necessary relation to their antecedents, to heredity, education, environment. There is no "uncaused" event for science, no act for which 1 ' reasons ' ' only are assigned; and for practical purposes the event in question is the only one that could have resulted from the given causes. But society is still accountable, and, principles may be adopted for determining what degree of mental defect or disease shall be decisive in judging persons liable to committment; and the courts must still endeavor to determine responsi- bility for crime. Certain acts are permitted by law, others not; and the ordinary motives which influence mankind are always to be considered. More emphasis is now placed on defective mentality and disease as factors in determin- ing responsibility for crime. More effort is made to con- sider what prevents a person from knowing the nature and quality of his act, and from controlling his own conduct. Then too it is more a question what insanity precisely is. "Responsibility, in the sense of liability to profitless retri- bution for wrong-doing, does not exist, scientifically, in any case. On the other hand, everybody is responsible in the sense of being liable to forfeit his liberty, property, or the results of his labor, when necessary for protection of the rights of others or for the restoration of damages caused by him" (Rosanoff).7 Crime.-"Crime is an unlawful act of default which 6 Cf. Hamblin Smith, op. cit., pp. 10, 11. 7 Quoted by Hamblin Smith, op. cit., p. 77. 520 Social Psychology is an offense against the public, and which renders the perpetrator of the act or default liable to legal punishment (Halsbury)."8 Crimes are acts which in the opinion of a particular society at a particular time, are regarded as demanding punishment by that society. The single point common to all criminals is that they have committed acts which are considered to deserve punishment by the society in which they live. Our views as to the particular acts to be regarded as crimes are constantly changing. Acts once deemed crimes are no longer so regarded. New crimes have been created by legislatures. An act may be a crime in one country and not in another. We are not yet able to judge by "eternal principles of right and justice." There are plainly no "criminal types." Punishment.-Psychologically, it is plain that the no, tion of punishment is originally due to the so-called instinct of self-preservation. The idea of retaliation persists whether people admit it or not. The small boy begins by "getting square" with the one who has imposed on him. During the World War "reprisals" were indulged in as of old. The same has been recently noted in the civil war in Ireland. The real question is whether society is any bet- ter for punishing the offender. Investigators like William Healey9 and Hamblin Smith have clarified the situation by analyzing the prior considerations. Too much stress has been placed on the mere deed, with the attempt to define its character and fix responsibility according to prev- alent standards. More emphasis is now put on the man, on conduct as the expression of mental life, the particular act being a symptom only. The real problem, Smith in- sists, is to find why a man acts or has acted in a particular manner. The process of investigation called for is not too elaborate, even in the case of the smallest acts. The ques- tion of ultimate responsibility is to be postponed. If we discard the notion that responsibility is something intrinsic to the individual, we then find place for it with reference to the particular society. 8 See Hamblin Smith, pp. 13, 16, foil., 23, 24. 9 See W. Healey, Mental Conflicts and Misconduct, 1917, Delinquency and Crime 521 Causes of Crime.-Passing by physical causes, such as alcoholism, sometimes a symptom only of some underlying mental instability, bad environment, poverty, bad heredity, we note that it is no less difficult to determine the mental causes, for example, in the case of defective education, or psycho-physical causes, such as disease, since not all people subject to these causes have been delinquents. It becomes plain once more that in any case the individual must be studied; the individual is not a constant, but the most variable element of the problem. The mental process which led to the particular act is what we need to know if possible. Even when we know the subject's family history, we may need to know the buried conflict within the offend- er's mind. Certain physical defects, such as tuberculosis, heart-disease, hernia, defects of vision, may be very strong incentives to delinquency without being causes. The amount of dental disease may be very large. Cretinism, due to thyroid defect, may be an important factor. Parmelee describes the background of crime by noting in the first place that all forms of behavior come into being in the course of the struggle of the individual for existence: each individual must overcome the difficulties in the way of his existence if he is to survive.10 In every social group conflict arises between the interests of the individual and the welfare of the group; every person experiences impulses which if gratified would injure other persons, would give rise to warfare. These impulses and desires arise out of the emotions; they sometimes lead to social behavior, again to anti-social behavior, for example, in the case of pug- nacity and emotions of anger. The mental basis of crimi- nality is (1) the instincts, inherited modes of response to specific stimuli, often reinforced or inhibited in part or entirely by habit; (2) feeling, the most subjective part of the mental make-up; (3) intelligence; (4) types of mental abnormality, amentia, dementia, insanity, neuroses, alco- holism, drug habits; (5) the mental inadaptability of the criminal to existing customs, standards of society; (6) mental defect and moral deficiency: man's moral nature io M. Parmelee, Criminology, 1918. 522 Social Psychology is determined by his instinctive, affective, and intellectual traits, his experience and training; (7) social maladjust- ments of the criminal. Platt holds that some people are born with so deficient a social sense that they are doomed always to remain outsiders; even if they obey society's laws they do so without comprehension; but the majority will not obey, choose rather to set themselves against society; hence the classes known as anarchists and "born crimi- nals. ' ' The Unconscious Element.-Hamblin Smith places more emphasis on psychoanalysis and its results than on mental tests as means of determining the nature of the offender's mind; for Freud has radically altered our views of human nature, the supreme importance of the sexual instinct has been made plain, and conflict is seen in far more significant light.11 Again, the unconscious "forms the basis of the entire mind," so Smith thinks; and Freud has shown the unity of all mental life. Studies in dissociation show that as a man keeps his religion in ' ' water-tight compartments, ' ' so a burglar may in other connections carry on a respect- able family life; there may be a condition of chronic con- flict between two complexes. In case of a complex, a per- son may "rationalize" his conduct and produce what to him are excellent reasons for acting as he does; and he may be most indignant if the true reason for his actions is pointed out to him. "Perhaps the thing which a man least desires to understand is himself." "No demonstration is needed to explain the original cause of those embraces of lovers which are tolerated by the conventions of society. Yet this origin is quite un- recognized by the great majority of women, and by some men. And the perpetrators of the embraces might be most highly indignant if the underlying motive for their actions was pointed out to them. The politician, again, will assert, and most emphatically, that all his labors are actuated by what he considers to be the good of society. They may actually be so actuated in some cases; but, in others, the motive is clearly due to the instinct of self-assertion, or ii Op. cit., Chap. III. Delinquency and Crime 523 even to still 'lower' motives. ... We see in court work, all kinds of instances in which the psychic energy of a repressed complex may escape into consciousness in a dis- guised form." Alternating Personality.-"A repressed complex may regain its position in consciousness, replacing an antago- nistic complex, which latter may, in its turn, become re- pressed. This alternating process of repression and escape may continue ... We then get what is known as an 'alternating personality.' There are two main forms of this: (1) true dual personality, of which the case of 'Dr. Jekyll' and 'Mr. Hyde' is the most famous in literature, but of which there have been numerous illustrations in real life, vouched for in scientific works. Such personalities may be the explanation of certain criminal offenses. As we proceed with our work in psychoanalysis it seems quite certain that we shall definitely establish this fact, and that our law-makers and administrators will be obliged to give it due consideration in dealing with offenders. (2) We may have what are known as 'fugue states.' In these the subject is confused ('disoriented') in time and place, although the personality is regarded as remaining the same. Such states are far from uncommon, and their recognition explains many actions which would otherwise remain ob- scure. These states are common among epileptics, and may precede, replace, or follow the typical 'fit.' . . . Extreme instances of dual personality are not very common, but minor instances are far from rare. . . . Treatment, in any adequate sense of the word, is incompatible with a definite sentence of legal punishment. ' '12 Repressions as Causes.-A repressed complex may also (1) escape into consciousness by taking the form of a physical symptom: neurosis or psychoneurosis, as in the case of a soldier at the front, who may have a conflict be- tween two complexes; (2) lead an autonomous life in the unconscious, and its energy may be displayed in symbolic form; (3) escape into consciousness and dominate the whole of consciousness in the form of an attack of insanity: 12 Ibid., p. 71. 524 Social Psychology psychosis. In any event the importance of the contents of the unconscious lies not in their static but in their dynamic character. The unconscious consists of the great primitive instincts, and psychic energy is constantly well- ing up from these. Far more of our psychic life than we have supposed results from the action of these instincts. Emotions repressed in the unconscious are not simply stored away; their expression is an active process, distinct from ''passive" forgetting, and they are constantly driving to obtain an outlet into consciousness. Conflict in the con- scious mind may produce repression, and the repressed elements, retained in the unconscious, are active. Mental conflicts and the resulting repressions are among the main causes of delinquent conduct. The complexity and the subtlety of mental processes is exceedingly deep, and we are just beginning to use the sounding line, to realize what the depth really is.13 Psychoanalysis is teach- ing us how deep-seated and how apparently unconnected with the action the real cause may be. No one who desires to make a real study of an offender can afford to neglect to track down the delinquent's action to its original source. He will be surprised, at first, at the frequency with which he will find some mental conflict at the base of the whole trouble, for instance, a great emotional disturbance, due perhaps to sexual matters in the wide sense of the term. There may be "substitution delinquencies" (Healey), for example. Unable to escape by one door, the repressed emotion expresses itself in action in diverse ways; hence a repressed conflict may issue into consciousness in the form of a desire to commit some particular act. "It is on a footing with the well-known instances in which a repressed desire to scream from the effects of physical pain finds issue in muscular action (clenching the fists, or fiercely bit- ing on something), or where the impulse of rage, balked of its natural outlet, finds issue in the act of smashing fur- niture ; or of deliberate unkindness to some person who is connected with the real occasion of the rage. ' '14 Results.-The resulting delinquencies are of almost in- is Ibid., p. 97. 14 Ibid., p. 99. Delinquency and Crime 525 finite variety. For example, a repressed complex in a man resulted from his family looking down upon his wife be- cause she had been immoral before marriage: the delin- quency took the form of larceny, the unconscious desire being to put himself on a level with his wife in the eyes of the family by the commission of an offense. A complex may be caused by depression over a trifling and sometimes imaginary physical defect, and has resulted in an attempt at suicide or in the form of larceny. In the majority of cases the repression probably has a sexual basis. The re- sulting conflict may give rise to all kinds of offenses, such as stealing in every variety, violent assault, arson. The neuroses may have much to do with the results. The hys- teric and the petty criminal are often closely allied. There is ''pathological stealing" as well as "pathological lying." Dipsomania may involve a repressed sex conflict. Loss of memory may be involved, but this may be feigned. In instances where it is genuine it may be a question of (1) epilepsy; (2) acute confusional insanity; (3) the senile dementia of old age; (4) hysteria; (5) or the desire not to know may produce an actual condition of not knowing. In considering the bearings of mental conflict as a cause of offenses, Mr. Smith emphasizes the fact that as a rule this cause does not stand alone. The conflict may be the main cause of the primary offense; but when this primary offense has been committed, various other circumstances begin to bear their part, and a "criminalistic habit of mind" may begin to be formed. After continued misdeeds, all the evil results of bad habit formation ensue, including social disabilities of various kinds. Once punished for an offense, a man is put at perpetual disadvantage; the fact that he has been dealt with as an offender remains as a disturbing element in his mind, and he feels that society is against him. This emotion then tends to reinforce any already existing conflict in his mind, and the idea may be produced that it is hopeless for him to attempt to lead a more social life. This idea, mistaken, may be as potent a source of evil as if it represented a real fact. The analysis of the process of anti-social grudge formation is very 526 Social Psychology important. While scientific knowledge forbids us to blame the offender, there is every reason for learning the nature of the offender's anti-social actions, that we may find a solution for the problems of criminality. For the most part wre have been content with mere assumptions in our study of the undying civil war which delinquency is waging against society, sapping the basis of our social order. Many of these assumptions are legacies derived from our prehistoric ancestors, and some have been handed down to us from religious systems of the past; the mass of human failures which now has to be repressed at the cost of enormous sums of money, and of much unprofitable labor, represents a dynamic force of vast magnitude. Summary.-Every mental defective is a potential de- linquent; defects of intelligence have always tended to anti-social conduct; there is no single cause of mental defects; psychopaths who are defective are now being studied by aid of the additional methods of the new psychology; it is partly a question of "inadequate" or "divided" personality, when mental defectiveness leads to delinquency; treatment has been taking the place of pun- ishment, understanding is replacing condemnation; and it is more and more a question of the individual, his mental level, his conscious and unconscious life. Reverting to Lippman's terms, we note that a mental defective lives in a very limited "pseudo-environment," a delinquent in- creases the fictitious content, while the criminal is apt to cut himself off from all normal mental environments, espe- cially the social, greatly preferring his pseudo-environ- ment. Specialists in psychology have the task not only of measuring intelligence but of trying to rationalize the individual's pseudo-environment, to discover if he can why the criminal committed his crime. The alleged "born criminal" has probably never known any environment save the fictitious one which his psycho-physical attitude has determined for him. The anarchist acts in what he takes to be the real world, but he may be as far from reality as most insane people. An enlightened public opinion concerning criminality may lead gradually to en- Delinquency and Crime 527 lightened methods with regard to penology. Until psychol- ogy has advanced much further in this special field, abso- lute judgments will remain out of fashion. While one might object on ethical grounds that determinism should not be taken for granted, it is clear that there is every advantage in assuming it when trying to know the criminal as an individual, to see to what extent his crime is a result of conditions into which he was born and reared, and of the repressions which have been generated in him. Results achieved in studying the criminal in the light of psycho- analysis show that Freud's theory of the unconscious is a very workable conception. REFERENCES Cady, V. M., "The Psychology and Pathology of Delinquency," in The Journal of Delinquency, Sept., 1922 (bibliography). Griffith, C. R., General Introduction to Psychology, 1923, Chap. XII. Terman, L. M., The Measurement of Intelligence, 1916, Chap. I. Goddard, II. H., The Kallikak Family, 1920; Human Efficiency and Levels of Intelligence, 1920; Juvenile Delinquency, 1921. Paton, S., Human Behavior, 1921, p. 386. Woodworth, R. S., Psychology, 1921, p. 290. Smith, S. G., Social Pathology, 1911, p. 160. Healey, W., Mental Conflicts and Misconduct, 1917. Parmelee, M., Criminology, 1918, Chaps. Ill, X. Smith, M. Hamblin, The Psychology of the Criminal, 1923. Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, p. 198. Hollander, Bernard, The Psychology of Misconduct, Vice and Crime, 1923, CHAPTER XXXIII TESTIMONY Experience teaches us that reports based on evidences of the senses differ very greatly, and that people are likely to disagree concerning the simplest occurrences, in case of an accident, or any event where sudden happenings pass unnoticed save by the few. Where personal interests enter, accounts of an event may readily be affected by what an individual is prepared to see, hear, or believe. When two or more people agree concerning a person who is in disfavor, it is an easy matter for them to conclude that they are right. Emotion is likely to color any description. Most of us are personal enough to wish to prove a case where private interests are concerned. It is difficult for the average group to pass beyond the limitations of each individual observer, since we are inclined to believe what we call the testimony of our own senses, the evidence of our own memory, the soundness of personal interpretation; and it is not uncommon for an individual to insist that he is right about what he believes he saw or heard, even when three or more persons who were present assure him he is wrong. Story-Telling.-Nearly every one tends to enlarge on a story, even the simple account of an accident, when it is narrated from time to time. The story-teller transforms the commonplace into the unusual, responds to the sug- gestions of others, comes to believe a thing happened which others maintain as highly probable, or which the narrator has tried to recall times enough so that alleged recollection takes the place of actual memory. Wishes, hopes, and fears are motives in supposed recollection. The hero both in civil life and in war-time is likely to add details to an event 528 Testimony 529 in which he has participated. The imagination readily lends its aid. Partisanship or bias is sure to be a motive in very many instances. Loyalty to a person under sus- picion will lead a person to minimize or ignore all damaging facts. The will-to-prove or disprove is an exceedingly powerful motive. Even when there is no possible reason for distorting the facts it is easy for highly intelligent people to fail in giving a simple account of an event. For example, Swift tells the case of an accident witnessed by a physician and his sister. "My sister and I were standing at a street- corner one afternoon, waiting for a car, when suddenly a runaway horse and wagon came dashing by. The horse ran rapidly for a block, turned suddenly into another street, and then apparently stopped with a loud crash and a shriek. We rushed to the corner to assist the injured. But to our amazement no horse or vehicle was in sight, nor was there any evidence of a collision. We made inquiries and watched the newspapers, but were unable to learn of any such accident. My sister and I are considered close observers, and we would have been willing to swear that the wagon was demolished and that some one was severely injured." 1 Expert Testimony.-Miinsterberg, highly trained as a psychologist and on the alert to detect the slightest varia- tion from fact, tells his experience in facing a jury as a witness in a trial: "While I was with my family at the seashore my city house had been burglarized and I was called upon to give an account of my findings against the culprit whom they had caught with a part of the booty. I reported under oath that the burglars had entered through a cellar window, and then described what rooms they had visited. To prove, in answer to a direct question, that they had been there at night, I told that I had found drops of candle wax on the second floor. To show that they intended to return, I reported that they had left a large mantel clock, packed in wrapping paper, on the dining- room table. Finally, as to the amount of clothes which they 1 E. J. Swift, Psychology and the Pay's Work, 1918, p. 286. 530 Social Psychology had taken, I asserted that the burglars did not get more than a specified list which I had given the police. Only a few days later I found that every one of those statements was wrong. They had not entered through the window, but had broken the lock of the cellar door; the clock was not packed by them in wrapping paper, but in a tablecloth; the candle droppings were not on the second floor, but in the attic; the list of lost garments was to be increased by seven more pieces; and while my story under oath spoke always of two burglars, I [did] not know that there was more than one. " 2 Professor Miinsterberg could not of course explain his failures on the ground of a bad memory, for he possessed an exceptionally accurate memory. He had no prejudice against the defendant, but took a liking to the man. There was every reason why he should speak the whole truth and naught else. But he had not made a careful examina- tion of the house; he had rushed in from the seashore as soon as the police notified him, in the fear that valuable contents might have been plundered or destroyed; he was influenced by the fact that the two supposed burglars had started in the wine-cellar, and so had probably forgotten what they came for; and his imagination aided him with regard to the clock. He had had a vivid image of the candle droppings, but had not noticed carefully where he saw them. Other blunders arose through suggestion. The police and others had taken it for granted that the entrance was made by the cellar window, as it would have been much more difficult to use the locked doors; consequently the other hypothesis had not even been examined. The whole story under oath had referred to two burglars with- out any doubt at the time. Summing up the results, Miinsterberg says: "In this way, in spite of my best intentions, in spite of good memory and calm mood, a whole series of confusions, of illusions, of forgetting, or wrong conclusions, and of yielding to sug- gestions were mingled with what I had to report under oath, and my only consolation is the fact that in a thousand 2 H. Miinsterberg, On the Witness Stand, 1908, p. 39. Testimony 531 courts at a thousand places all over the world, witnesses every day affirm by oath in exactly the same way worse mixtures of truth and untruth, combinations of memory and illusion, of knowledge and of suggestion, of experience and wrong conclusions. Not one of my mistakes was of the slightest consequence. But is it probable that this is always so ? Is it not more natural to suppose that every day errors creep into the work of justice through wrong evidence which has the outer marks of truth and trust- worthiness ? ' ' Influence of Suggestion.-Swift gives an interesting ac- count of the Jester case involving testimony in court con- cerning a murder committed thirty years before, the evidences being based on discoveries brought to light, the finding of witnesses, and widespread publicity given the facts concerning a wagon, its contents, and other matters involved in the murder.3 The significant fact was the re- markably exact testimony of the witnesses, which Swift explains by the way the case was worked up and the publicity given to it. The detectives, as they secured one fact after another, cultivated the information by suggestive questions and statements to those with whom they con- versed. For instance, if a witness said there was a buffalo robe in the wagon, the detective would ask if it covered the outlines of a human form. The witness would think it likely, and soon conclude that it did. The case was widely featured in the newspapers, with pictures of the murdered man and alleged murderer, the horses and wagons, the scenes in a chain of events leading to the crime, the pictures being based on what the witnesses said they saw. Reportorial imagination supplied what was lacking, fact and fiction were indistinguishable. On the principle that if a man is told a thing often enough he finally accepts it and, as he repeats it, comes to believe it as a fact, the descriptions put before the witnesses had taken the place of actual memories, and the whole affair had been recounted times enough so that the witnesses agreed with surprising accuracy. 3 Op. cit., Chap. VIII. 532 Social Psychology Perception as a Factor.-Throwing out of account in- stances in which mental defect, the influence of disease, liquor, and other matters affect testimony, also cases where lying is a factor, it is natural to refer most failures of testimony to the memory of the reporter or witness. We readily assume that all people perceive their surroundings alike. For example, in a case cited by Miinsterberg where it was essential to find out whether at a certain riot the number of guests in a hall was larger than the forty who had been invited to attend, there were witnesses who in- sisted that there could not have been more than twenty per- sons present, while others were sure they saw more than one hundred. The assumption ordinarily is that in case there were only twenty in the hall no one could have seen a hundred, hence that the disagreement is due to a trick of memory. But there is no evidence that we do thus all perceive the same thing. Miinsterberg gives abundant evidence to the contrary. In a poison case, for example, some members of the family testified that the beverage had a disagreeable sour taste, others that it was tasteless, still others that it was sweet. In a Bowery wrangle one witness was certain that a rowdy had taken a beer mug and kept the mug in his fist while he beat the skull of his comrade with it; while others saw that the two were separated by a long table, and that the assailant used the mug as a missile, throwing it at a distance of six or eight feet. It is plain that memory alone is not a sufficient explanation of the discrepancy. Other Factors.-It has been demonstrated experimen- tally that reports concerning the observation of such simple things as sheets of white cardboard with dark and light ink-spots on them, exhibited before a class for a few seconds, differ radically. Experiments also show that when the attention of an observer is distracted it is a simple matter to perform some act which wholly eludes even the acute person who is greatly on the alert to avoid illusion. Inas- much as associations, judgments, and suggestions, penetrate into all our perceptions, it is out of the question to attribute failures to a single factor. The errors begin before memory Testimony 533 has a chance to play its part. The observation may be faulty, through special interest in some aspect of the oc- currence in question, to the neglect of others. Wrong associations may lead to misinterpretation from the start. Judgment is likely to be at fault from beginning to end. Suggestion may falsify the data of the senses. Individual differences may enter in from the outset. The feeling of accuracy in reporting the circumstances is not enough to assure a reasonably correct reproduction of the events. The earnest desire to be accurate does not guarantee ac- curacy. There is often a tendency to describe what we wish might have happened. The keenest interest and closest attention will not assure truthful accounts. Swift finds by experiment that when the average man reports events or conversation from memory and conscientiously believes that he is telling the truth, about one-fourth of his statements are incorrect. Actions are readily transposed, omitted, substituted, or inserted. In Court.-Although the memory is exceeding plastic and prone to error, always exposed to the deflecting influ- ences of repeated narration, with a generous admixture of fiction, with references to intended actions not carried out or to biased opinions, it is clear that faulty memory is one factor only in the result. The omission of things that actually happened, with the substitution of events which did not occur may be the rule rather than the exception; but it is necessary to look further to find the reasons for these omissions and substitutions. Swift calls special atten- tion to the fact that with all that is known about the way- wardness of the memory, actual practice in court has not changed. The attorneys for one side still endeavor to nurse remembrances, and those opposed to confuse them. Honest witnesses are subjected to the same sort of cross-examination as that applied to witnesses under suspicion. Suggestions are given, and every effort is made to assist a witness in re- calling. Then the task of separating the truth from the error is left to the jury, which is often composed of men inexperienced in making distinctions and drawing infer- ences ; for the aim of lawyers is to acquit or convict, that is, 534 Social Psychology to win cases, and all their efforts are bent toward the chosen end. So too Miinsterberg points out that the juryman is ex- pected to make up his mind as to whether the memory ideas of a witness are objective reproductions or are mixed with associations and suggestions. ''The court proceeds as if the physiological chemistry of blood examinations had made wonderful progress, while experimental psychology, with its efforts to analyze the mental faculties, had remained where it stood two thousand years ago. ' '4 The Association Method.-Miinsterberg indicates a way in which a reaction can be obtained from a supposed crimi- nal, by the association method. The purpose may be to find out whether a suspected person has really participated in a certain crime. "He declares that he is innocent, that he was not present when the outrage occurred, and that he is not even familiar with the locality. An innocent man will not object to our proposing a series of one hundred associations to demonstrate his innocence. A guilty man of course will not object, either, as declination would indicate a fear of betraying himself; he can not refuse, and yet affirm his innocence. Moreover, he will feel sure that no questions can bring out any facts which he wants to keep hidden in his soul; he will be on the lookout. As long as nothing more is demanded than that he speak the first word which conies to his mind, when another word is spoken to him, there is indeed no legal and no practical reason for declining, as long as innocence is professed. Such an experi- ment will at once become interesting in three directions as soon as we mix into our list of one hundred words a number, perhaps thirty, which stand in more or less close connection to the crime in question-words which refer to the details of the locality, or to the persons present at the crime, or to the probable motive, or to the professed alibi, and so on. The first direction of our interest is toward the choice of the associations. Of course every one believes that he would be sure to admit only harmless words to his lips; but the conditions of the experiment quickly destroy that feeling of safety. As soon as a dangerous association 4 Op. cit., p. 45. Testimony 535 rushes to the consciousness, it tries to push its way out. It may, indeed, need some skill to discover the psychical influence, as the suspected person may have control enough not to give away the dangerous idea directly; but the sup- pressed idea remains in consciousness, and taints the next association, or perhaps the next but one, without his knowl- edge. "He has, perhaps, slain a woman in her room, and yet protests that he has never seen her in her house. By the side of her body was a cage with a canary-bird. I therefore mix into my list of words also 'bird.' His mind is full of the gruesome memory of his heinous deed. The word 'bird' therefore at once awakens the association 'canary- bird' in his consciousness; yet he is immediately aware that this would be suspicious, and he succeeds, before the dangerous word comes to his lips, in substituting the harm- less word 'sparrow.' Yet my next word, or perhaps my second or third next, is 'color,' and his prompt association is 'yellow': the canary-bird is still in his mind, and shows its betraying influence. The preparation of the list of words to be called thus needs psychological judgment and insight if a man with quick self-control is to be trapped. In most cases, however, there is hardly any need of relying on the next and following words, as the primary associa- tions for the critical words unveil themselves for important evidence directly enough. ' '5 The Value of Questions.-The subtle effect of sugges- tion is shown in such an instance as the following: A pic- ture of a farmer's room is shown to forty persons, each examines it, and is asked after the picture is removed to give a report from the fresh memory image, in reply to detailed questions. The questions are partly indifferent at first: How many persons were in the room ? Has the room two windows? What is the man doing? (There were actually persons and windows, and the man was eating soup.) But now a question is asked which refers to objects not present in the picture. The question might be, Is there a stove in the room? But that would not be so suggestive s Ibid., p. 82. 536 Social Psychology as to ask, Did you see the stove in the room? When a person questioned answers that there is a stove in the room, he is at once ready to reply to other questions, e.g., Where is the stove standing? With the suggestiveness of the questions, the tendency to elaborate inventions rapidly in- creases. Miinsterberg concludes on the basis of experiments tried with people of various ages, in various countries, that there is nothing more suggestive for some persons than a skillful question. And no one may be more suggestible in court than the juryman. "The lawyer who knows his average juryman instinctively makes use of all the psycho- logical factors which bring the arguments of the one side fully into the focus of interest, and suppress and inhibit the effectiveness of the opposite idea. ' ' 6 The Question of Evidence.-In other words, the find- ings of psychologists in this field indicate that while the usual factors of association, suggestion, and the rest enter in, in the case of witnesses and jurymen, lawyers, and all concerned, special interests are also involved, as well as the whole question of public opinion. Each person may endeavor, in accordance with his private interests, for or against, to play his part in independent fashion. Yet each is more or less subject to the opinions of a group, to the "news" heralded abroad concerning a case; and one group is opposed to another. Then too the question of local pride may enter in, as in an instance cited by Miinsterberg when the citizens of a Western city resented the supposed inter- ference of an Eastern psychologist in the case of a young man accused by forced suggestions of a murder of which he was innocent. The cases are often vastly more compli- cated than those which come under the observation of psychotherapists and psychoanalysts. Yet we find nothing essentially new or different in the results. The psycho- analyst has only one mind to outwit at a time, in his efforts to bring a confession out of the unconscious. But the "psychologist may have many minds against him, especially as the standing of courts of law is in a measure in question. Matters are decided on the basis of evidence which is very b Ibid., pp. 183, 198. Testimony 537 far from scientific, as if everybody in question were an expert psychologist. Oftentimes the actual testimony is left in the stage of mere relativity, as in the case of an automobile accident witnessed by two highly respectable men, neither of whom had the slightest interest in changing the facts as he called them; but one said the automobile was running very slowly, the other that he had never seen an automobile rushing more rapidly, while one said the entire road was dry and dusty, and the other that it had rained and the road was muddy. All the usual illusions may enter in, for instance, one witness noticed at the seashore in moonlight a woman and a child, while another said it was a man with a dog. Where all appears to be relativity, the will must apparently decide, and when the will intervenes the data may be as readily developed as in the case of a neurosis patient rationalizing a complex and concealing the real motive. It is to be noted that while psychologists have shown experi- mentally how difficult it is to gain accurate reports from a class of trained students, asked to describe an event that has been "framed" to test them,7 in cases of actual crime persons summoned as witnesses may have had far less opportunity to observe what they saw. A witness is likely to enter court with what Lippman calls a "pseudo-environ- ment" in his mind, in accordance with which he has tried to explain the facts as he believes he observed them, or as he wishes others to believe he observed them. Moreover, he does not enter court till he has conferred with others, each of whom has his pseudo-environment. Legal Points of View.-Ideally speaking it should be a question of social justice, and one might assume that all lawyers and judges, also all juries, would approach the study of a case in the attitude of the man of science, interested in determining the precise facts. Yet human life is such a game, partisan interests are so strong that the lawyer, for example, takes as his objective the winning of the case. Granted this universe of discourse, adopted by an act of will, all evidences must be interpreted so as to 7 See C. R. Griffith, Gen. Introd, to Psychology, p. 407. 538 Social Psychology make for that end; and the more remote from the facts, the more fictitious his universe of discourse becomes. He represents a crowd-the witnesses and others favoring his side of the case-and he must endeavor to carry judge and jury with his crowd. The opposing attorney also represents a crowd. If it is a sensational trial running through several days, the press may enlarge upon the factors influ- encing the two crowds. Public opinion may become a factor. Professional jealousy may keep the lawyers from submit- ting their evidences and methods to psychological analysis. In general, the law has a universe of discourse of its own. People protest in favor of ethics, but moral right and legal right are put in opposition. The psychology of the criminal is all the while throwing greater light on the origins of criminality, yet it may be very difficult to introduce into court findings in regard to alternating personality, repressions, and the like. The suspicion prevails that graft often enters to pervert testi- mony. No situation seems more complicated from a psychological point of view. The practice of law might be reformed from the ground up by taking into full account the effects of illusory perception, faulty memory, the dis- torting or enlarging power of suggestion, the influence of the will, of violent partisanship, the emotions, the pseudo- environment, and all other factors disclosed by psychology.8 Each individual should be regarded by himself. No case should be put through on the ground that there are many to be taken up and one must hurry. If we shall make headway in overcoming the evil effects of the perpetual civil war of delinquency, we must make a thorough study of the causes and conditions of this war. It is science which must first reform the courts. This would mean the adop- tion of uniform laws throughout the states and countries, based on the known psychological facts of human nature. Divorce.-The divorce tangle is an excellent illustration of the prevalence of a fictitious universe of discourse. The party who is trying to win a suit for divorce must find legal grounds for the divorce in the state in which he 8 See Griffith, op. dt., p. 417. Testimony 539 resides, lienee must adopt a point of view which will shape the facts in that direction. The testimony borne by the friends who favor that side must be developed accordingly, and partisanship in its most emotional forms is likely to enter the case. But the opponent must also have a universe of discourse, and make use of any testimony which may increase the favoring conditions. Letters written by the two parties may complicate the situation, those of the one party being excused on psychoanalytic grounds, while those of the other are condemned without any saving references to psychology. The nearest of kin are supposed to manifest violent partisanship, on the ground that a brother, sister, son, or daughter, is always to be defended, even though such defense means putting the other party into a fictitious universe of discourse as absolutely and wholly wrong. The member of a family who tries to find a way through the tangle by seeking the facts on both sides, dispassion- ately, on the assumption that right is right, and what is true will be for the good of both parties, does so at his peril; for people demand utter partisanship, testimony which wholly favors the universe of discourse which has been adopted in order that the lawyer may win the case. Psychologically, it may be clear that as it "takes two to make a quarrel," so it takes two to make any relationship, especially when sexual motives are involved, when there may be deterrent complexes on both sides; and when it is a question of really knowing, not simply assuming to know the two parties. Again, the one who tries to be a friend of both parties may find himself opposed by still another element, in the shape of a witness whose theoretical universe prevents him from seeing the justice of a divorce for any reason what- soever. man's theory of right and wrong in general may be the determining factor in leading him to generate his pseudo-environment. If unable to carry his objections to all divorces, he may willfully generate a fictitious universe corresponding to that of the propagandists before men- tioned who resort not only to emotional appeals but to dishonesty. Thus a personal "case" may pass through 540 Social Psychology much the same stages as those of a public " cause." In any event the testimony a man bears will depend on the point of view he has adopted. Once adopted, and developed by appeal to people who agree, a man may come to believe as true that which at first was merely an assumption. Skepti- cal concerning the courts, a man may hope to appeal to what he calls a "moral court." But such a court would imply a considerable number of persons who, temperamen- tally and by persuasion, believe in being dispassionate, in regarding each mortal as a human being, whatever the tics of blood; and sincere effort to determine the facts and the right apart from all merely personal interests. As matters go in the world, personal partisanship finds its justification in the fact which we have already dwelt upon, namely, that love loves somebody in particular, and becomes the more intense in proportion as courts and other worldly agencies fail. Psychologically we are fully able to describe and ex- plain human testimony. REFERENCES Swift, E. J., Psychology and the Day's Work, 1918, Chap. VIII. Munsterberg, H., On the Witness Stand, 1908; Psychology, General and Applied, 1914, Chap. XXX. Woodworth, R. S., Psychology, 1921, pp. 352, 397. Arnold, G. F., Psychology Applied to Legal Evidence, 1906. Hollingworth and Poffenberger, Applied Psychology, new ed., 1923, Chap. XVI. Griffith, C. R., General Introduction to Psychoolgy, 1923, Chap. XVII. CHAPTER XXXIV WAR The study of dissociation, complexes, the Freudian un- conscious, and other recent psychological investigations have, as we have noted above, called renewed attention to the fact of conflict in the human personality. According to Freud, the central conflict is between the pleasure-principle, anti-social in nature; and the reality-principle, which tends to adapt the organism to the conditions of life in the world, to subordinate the individual's demand for immedi- ate gratification, and to modify the pleasure-principle in accordance with the regulations and requirements of so- ciety.1 Conflicts are going on within the individual chiefly because of the prohibitions of society. Psychical conflict may then be said to be ' ' the struggle which takes place be- tween two complexes whose conations would lead to incom- patible actions, "2 or " the antagonisms of two impulses which both have instinct behind them, and are both as it were intimate constituents of the personality. ' '3 Tansley holds that the major conflicts are always between complexes which have the force of the primitive instincts at their back, for example, between sex and religion, sex and morality, patriotism and the family relation, in brief: sex in contrast with the herd, or conflicting loyalties to two herds. Thus regarded, mental conflict, even when deeply per- sonal, is in reality social conflict, and it is a question of the inner history of the entire race. Some conflicts are hidden, because of the attitude of society regarding them; others, like the defiance of the small boy, resisting his 1 See E. Jones, Papers on Psychoanalysis, ix. 2 Tansley, The New Psychology, p. 113. 3 Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, p. 82. 541 542 Social Psychology parents, the self-assertion of the youth over against a group, the conflicts between groups, are out in the open. From the first, the individual asserts himself through self- love, desires demanding recognition, the struggle for exist- ence; while from the first gregarious tendencies are more or less in opposition. Conflict ranges through the whole series of motives, from animal impulses through contest with social attitudes, customs, codes, to the highest level of contrast between moral and religious standards. Some conflicts may be classified as necessary, their function being to awaken energies, overcome sluggishness, develop indi- viduality, and bring the self into expression and usefulness in the social order; while others, due to mental defective- ness, repression, passion, resentment, undue aggressiveness -reaching the point where the terms "sin," "evil," and "crime" are applied-are unnecessary, and exist chiefly because society has not known how to deal with them. Race Prejudice.-Bogardus, w7ho regards race prejudice as the most subtle and insidious of all conflicts, impassable barriers to race assimilation, generalizes such conflicts as due to a non-scientific prejudgment resulting from (1) an elemental fear of the strange: the strange tribe is an enemy tribe until proved otherwise; (2) ignorance; (3) separation, which breeds misunderstanding, false estimates; (4) differences in race; (5) competition, which engenders prejudice. The general result is isolation. It has incited and excused cannibalism, warfare, slavery; justified re- ligious persecution, personal and economical exploitation; fostered tyranny, cruelty, the merciless waste of human life; bred the spirit of caste; and has done most to create the sweatshop and the slum: it is the arch-enemy of social peace throughout the world.4 Revolutions.-Platt finds ground for conflict in the fact that governments form patterns for themselves in the minds of subjects or citizens; these patterns can not easily be eradicated; and when changes come, revolutions must bring violence, with temporary reversions.5 Men in their haste £ Essentials of Social Psychology, p. 237. 5 See The Psychology of Social Life, Chap. III. War 543 and impetuosity demand the shedding of blood. But man's patterns, not his willfulness, is the determining cause of most of his actions. If we understood this fact, we would less frequently resort to the sword. An illustration of Platt's view was given the world during the war, when the Prussian "pattern" commanded the allegiance of a whole people to a "system" which the world traced to its sources in Prussian history, instead of condemning the common people in Germany. Ellwood does not attribute the revolt of a large number of people to social maladjustment, but rather to the bad working or breaking down of social habits for a portion of the population-usually a forerunner of social reconstruc- tion.6 Again, " interest-groups " are ignored or repressed by those who control the social machinery. Intolerant, irrational public sentiments, inflexible in habits, may be causes. Opposing forces accumulate until societies having inflexible habits and institutions are overwhelmed. Some- times the breakdown of old habits may be sudden, and the society, unused to the process of readjustment, may for a while be unable to reconstruct its habits and institutions. If only inadequate concessions are made by the ruling classes, the inflexibility of the old order is maintained, and there is antagonism between this order and the new life. The revolutionary party is rarely united by a constructive program, hence the social confusion and uncertainty, with reversions to simple animal-like activities. Revolu- tionary periods give opportunity for the savage and brute in man to reassert themselves, and the methods of attaining ends are characteristic of much lower levels of culture. Revolution is not a normal means of social development. Revolutions are impossible, according to this view, in a perfectly flexible and adaptable type of social organization, where there is intelligent public criticism, free discussion, free thought about social conditions; where there is an alert public opinion seeking social betterment. The dangers come with class interests among the privileged or non- privileged. 6 See Introd, to Social Psychology, pp. 91, 114, 170, foil. 544 Social Psychology Modern Instances.-Our own form of government, with the freedom of speech ordinarily granted, will come to the reader's mind as the capital example of conditions dis- couraging revolution, despite the fact that since the rise of Bolshevism fears have been entertained that a revolution might come in America. In Russia, under the old regime, where there was least freedom there was the greatest gath- ering of repressions beneath the surface, ready to break forth when the World War afforded opportunity. But the people, accustomed to oppression, passed over to a new group of rulers, unable as they were to select leaders who could generate a new "pattern" to offset the Marxian pattern borrowed by Lenin and Trotsky. Reaction against patterns breeds other patterns in which the tyranny of the old order is imitated by new leaders. The terminology used by Platt and Ellwood enables one to envisage recent social conflicts so as to gain a summary view of the influence of tradition, repression, and tyranny contending with the new life which demands a radically different system. Origins of War.-It is customary to trace war to an original tendency in man to fight, which is carried over into the group, so that fundamentally there is no difference between the conduct and emotion of a war and the conduct and emotion of two fighting boys in this or any age. There is always the same sequence: a real or fancied invasion of rights, or a determination to gain something, a pretext, protest, or threat; and then assault, conflict, rage, and a general loss of reason (Platt). Men and nations revert to the purest egoistic reactions: the opponent is all that is vile, while the self, individual or national, is all that is good. Trotter describes the sequence as due to fear, an immense, vague, aching anxiety; the necessity for com- panionship; the strength and vitality of rumor; and the readiness with which suspicions of treachery flourish and grow about any one of foreign origin. So war acts upon man as a member of the greater herd, the nation, the true major unit, with instinctive concentration against the enemy.7 7 Op. cit., p. 140. War 545 Bertrand Russell traces war by a study of the impulses from which it springs, war being due to impulse rather than to desire or reason: there is an impulse of aggression, and an impulse of resistance to aggression.8 Each impulse produces a whole harvest of attendant beliefs. Some of our impulses make for life, others for death; war is due to an impulse which makes for death. One of the reasons it can become triumphant is found in the fact that love, the instinct of constructiveness, and the joy of life are checked and enfeebled by the way we live. Like trees, we require right soil and sufficient freedom from oppression; we are hampered by instincts from a simpler age; we live under unjust conditions. The instinct of liking and a common purpose lack expression through us. Springing from an impulse rather than from calculation of the advantages to be derived from it, war is usually waged for wealth or power. A small proportion of men in ordinary times are bellicose; they predict war. To avoid war we must keep nations from getting into the "moods" of England and Germany at the outbreak of war in 1914. The inarticulate feelings of common men are always ready to burst into war fever at the bidding of statesmen. James's "moral equivalent for war" is the only adequate solution. For the ultimate fact in which war rests is that a large proportion of mankind have an impulse to conflict rather than harmony, and can only be brought to co- operate with others in resisting and attacking a common enemy. Furthermore war is surrounded by glamour, tradi- tion. We must then promote all that is creative, and diminish the impulses and desires which center around possession: the state is very largely an embodiment of possessive impulses. Caused by Crowds.-Giving a somewhat different de- scription of the sources, Conway points out that all similar independent crowds are mutually hostile, for example, in the case of jealousy between Catholics and Protestants; so independent nations are mutually hostile.9 This hostility s Why Men Fight, 1917. a The Crowd in Peace and War, Chap. XVI. 546 Social Psychology is latent in times of peace, although there is an instinct of expansion which is a menace. The hostility is quickened by the instinct of self-preservation. Hence the original state of permanent warfare: internal expansion opposed to external resistance. When these are in equilibrium there is peace, "balance of power" comes about. But this equi- librium is unstable. A state of war is therefore the natural condition of independent crowds. It is not then the cause of war that needs to be sought, but the cause of peace. Individuals keep themselves from crowd-passion: the hos- tility leading to war proceeds from the crowd, not from leaders. Hence a democracy is as dangerous as a tyranny. The despot does not supply the strength of his people: he merely wields it. Hence the real power that makes war is the passion of the people. Democracy possesses no special virtue of restraint. Righteousness may exalt a nation, but has never formed one: like peace, it is not a creative but a consequential ideal. Possession of a common humanity has never amounted to very much as an inter- national crowrd-compelling motive. All that is needed for a war to come about is for two opposing crowds to exist; it is not necessary that there should be a deep issue for them to fight about.10 Wars happen first, then people discover or formulate ideals. Hence Conway holds that England, for example, was not fighting Germany for righteousness' sake but because Germany had been a strongly growing crowd which upset the equilibrium of Europe and aimed at the hegemony of the world. Due to Psychical Conflicts.-Le Bon also holds that na- tions are not ruled by realities, but by the more or less illusory ideas which they form of these realities.11 The mental differences which divide the nations are so deep- seated that it is very difficult for the nations to understand the motives. War is in reality a conflict between psychical forces, irreconcilable ideas. A national or race mind is a product of a lengthy past, involving biological, affective, and mystic factors. In the case of Germany there was a 10 Ibid., p. 287. 11 G. Le Bon, The Psychology of the Great War, 1916. War 547 haughty feeling of collective superiority; incapability of imagining any point of view except that of Germany; race- hatred; and an arrogant, aggressive attitude. In Austria there were violent race-hatreds against the Serbians; in Russia wounded self-respect and accumulated animosity toward Austria, with great need of prestige. To frighten Russia, Austria and Germany assumed an arrogant bearing. Meanwhile, the spirit of the race is the real combatant. The more its existence is threatened the more vigorously it defends itself. Le Bon holds that patriotism has an in- herent quality of a mystical nature, created by long ances- tral accumulation, involving rashness and love of danger, and, in France during the World War, a revival of religious feeling. Anger.-Many of us uncritically hold that anger is chiefly responsible for war. Stratton has devoted an entire volume to the subject, with reference to the individual, the family, the nation, and the history of peoples and re- ligions.12 Instead of disparaging pugnacity altogether, he calls it an achievement in mental progress; while war is one of the great occasions for cooperative effort, although such effort did not originate in war. War has been a prime means of selecting from among rival political organizations. Anger is not a purely negative or destructive agency; it joins in the great work of upbuilding. Apart from war, which faces usually outward, and not inward, we owe much of our social life within the state to indignation, resentment, jealousy, revenge. These have come to the help of the family, commerce, class, and the institutions of law; they have been strength and defense to the whole fabric of rights and duties. Yet these are not untainted agents of morality. They fight for vice as readily as for virtue. Anger leads in the attack on as well as in the defense of states. For every government that stands because of this impulse, a hundred have fallen because of it. War has been the chief barrier to enlargement in political organization. Mutual jealousy is still a great obstacle to cooperation among the 12 G. M. Stratton, Anger: Its Moral and Religious Significance, 1923. 548 Social Psychology nations. We still need to consider the right uses of anger, the possibility and need of bringing our "anger responses" into the service of the supreme interests of life, making pugnacity obedient to good-will. Non-resistance.-The war raised the old question of non-resistance once more, and writers like Bertrand Russell considered the possibility of widespread application of the idea. The difficulty attaching to this doctrine ordinarily is psychological, and it seems strange that so few attempts have been made to clear it up. All mental states should be regarded in the light of their activity, the results in actual conduct to which they tend to lead. If I have sufficient self-control to inhibit an impulse to strike back, to utter an angry word, or otherwise return blow for blow, I thereby substitute some other form of action. This is not "passive resistance." I do not keep myself from resisting. I give expression to higher resistance, I exercise moderation, cherish nobler sentiments which, I am per- suaded, have greater power for good in the world than any impulsive action. And if I sincerely believe-with the Quakers, Bertrand Russell, and others-that such senti- ments can be organized so as to be an effective social power, I ought not to stop with mere objections, theoretical or "conscientious," to war as such; I should not be satisfied with negative attitudes of any sort; I ought rather to use my powers in a constructive way to prove the social value of these higher sentiments. This would mean becoming something better than a pacifist. It would mean trying out higher ways of conducting ourselves which have not received much attention in the world, partly because the world has condemned them outright by prejudging so-called non- resistance as "passive resistance," as doing nothing, as letting your bellicose or thieving neighbor do whatever he likes, or as merely opposing war in theory. We have made little use of generosity, of giving rather than "getting," loving instead of hating. If we shall begin to do this at last, we must start with a sound psychology. War and Conflict.-Havelock Ellis maintains that we have confused war and conflict, and so war has become War 549 identified with an aspiring struggle; but conflict is the genus, and war the species.13 War may be regarded as belonging to man's childhood, while conflict stands on a far wider basis. The peculiar trait of w'ar is violence. This is absent in many kinds of conflict. War's Lessons and Values.-On the ground that " dan- ger tightens, and security relaxes all bonds," (Ross) the necessity for defense has been a main incentive in group formation, and a union for aggression has naturally fol- lowed. Primitive man hunted in packs, and the hunt readily became a raid. Non-fighting individuals and groups were subject to elimination, while the fighting group sur- vived and transmitted its traditions concerning war. It has been said that Europe was made as a result of this latter process; group consciousness was strengthened, and social values developed; also cooperation in endeavor, team play, and an appreciation of leadership.14 Groups that could not attain to these great social virtues were eliminated by their failure, as were the non-fighting groups. Indi- vidual idealism and pacifism meant a short life in the old days. Then civilization reached a point where war became a calamity, so that physical strife with its reversions to the primitive could no longer be regarded as desirable. Cooperation and leadership once learned, war's terrible instruction is no longer needed. War now leads to economic ruin, loss in conventional morality, lowering of the whole standard of life. If war still develops heroisms and love of country, and removes minor conflicts-between Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Socialists, Labor Unions-it is only for a time. A slump in ideals follows, and minor group quar- rels are renewed with intensified bitterness. War's Patterns.-A prime difficulty, Platt points out, is that we have not only war's "patterns," but we have cultivated them: we have apotheosized the military hero; we give our children soldiers to play with, we make cocked hats and wooden soldiers for them to play with, and we take them to see our great military monuments "erected 13 The Philosophy of Conflict, 1919. 14 See Platt, op. cit., Chap. III. 550 Social Psychology by the grateful nation." But the old instinct really needs no such cultivation. The old impulse to competition is still active. It is this great force which must be directed into other channels. We must make men of our children in some other way. The problem is to satisfy men's desire for competition, and to teach economics to statesmen. Com- mercial rivalry affords an outlet in a way, so does political life. But the moral substitutes are dependent on patterns too recently acquired to be compared in compelling force with old ones which date back to the beginning of things. We grow tired of new patterns, and tend to revert to the old. Since the emotion is with us to stay, we must strive to divert it into channels where it can no longer be de- structive. Need for an Equivalent.-When William James de- clared, at a peace conference in Boston, several years before the World War, that there would always be war so long as there are warring passions in the human breast, he seemed to be maintaining not only the supremacy of what Platt calls patterns (habit), but the dominion of the pugnacious instinct with its attendant emotions. Hence he seemed pessimistic. But from a psychological point of view the first need is to see that war is primarily due to motives stirring in the individual, a creature of habit and emotions as he is. The second step is to see, with James, the need for a "moral equivalent for war" which shall really be complete. This must be something more than the develop- ment of sports, the fostering of competition in business, or even the education of statesmen in economics: it must apply to the fundamental conflicts which specialists in the psycho- logical field are analyzing with great success. In studying the psychology of the criminal we have found reason to believe that there will be no complete solution of the civil warfare of delinquency till we put every deterring consideration aside in favor of scientific knowledge of all the causes. The criminal is anti-social in attitude, he is at odds with society on account of wrongs, or fancied wrongs, or prohibitions which have involved inner conflicts. Conventional punishment may intensify War 551 his anti-social attitude. To be set free from his conflicts, he must be understood, fundamentally, as an individual, and treated as an individual. The same psychology which is explaining him is explaining the sufferer from nervous diseases whose diseases are due to inner conflicts. The need in both cases is for re-education complete enough to find an adequate substitute in higher forms of self-expres- sion, for lower or conflicting forms. Regarding war then as one expression of far-reaching conflicts, we concern our- selves with the nature and origin of conflict in general; hence we must have a philosophy of conflict (Ellis). The attempt to explain war by tracing its causes to the machina- tions of one people, as if other nations were blameless, is too much like the partisanship in personal quarrels which attributes all the blame to the other fellow. The causes may be true as far as they go, as in the effort to explain the World War by reference to Prussian militarism, run- ning back to Frederick the Great. What has been said about the egotism of the Prussians in their assumption that their form of Kultur should dominate the world, is also true. Yet this is not the whole story. War did not begin in Prussia, nor did egotism originate there. The causes were complex. Many of the same tendencies have been exhibited by other nations. War is a human problem. The problem will be solved when a complete substitute in the race as a whole shall be found. Pacifism.-Peace has often been eulogised and war con- demned, with the gratifying assumption that if peace be praised sufficiently war will cease. The Peace Party con- tented itself with eulogies before 1914, and that was why James was disliked when he uttered an unpleasant truth. But knowledge of human nature shows that eulogies never suffice. We must have knowledge of causes, origins, con- ditions. When psychological students of human nature have pointed the way to a different solution, pacifists have condemned them, and during the war the pacifists thought themselves the only people in the world who did not like war; hence many of the confusions, above referred to, in regard to propaganda. We might venture to define a 552 Social Psychology pacifist as an individual who has temperamental or emo- tional presuppositions regarding war which he has never examined. The Quakers have opposed war as a sect. Woman opposes war without considering how to do some- thing more than protest against it by asking that it be stopped. Pacifists have isolated war, as if it could be out- lawed or stopped from the outside, without regard to the fact that it is but one expression of a conflict which began with our social history and has never ceased. They have also isolated peace as an end to be pursued by itself, as though we could disregard the motives which have led men to fight, and throw the allied questions of social justice out of account. The conscientious objector sometimes iso- lates himself by his attitude from the social group in which he moves, so that he simply calls undue attention to himself, telling the world why he personally disapproves of war. Many moral values have been associated with war, but when one mentions these as matters of great importance which we must preserve, the pacifist forthwith assumes that we are eulogising war. Meanwhile, what we need is psy- chological wisdom concerning the causes of conflict at large, with resultant changes such that war will cease with the cessation of its causes. Why War Is not Stopped.-There is a point of view re- garding war which pacifists and others seem unable to grasp as yet. When war conies and is so terrible, people cry out in their doubt: Why does not God stop the war? Ap- parently, war should be stopped without regard to any con- sequences that might ensue. It does not occur to them that war is an external expression of disturbances which have been seething beneath the surface, and that to stop the outward manifestation would be like glossing over a festering sore and trying to conceal it without assuaging the injury, learning anything about the cause, or doing anything whatever to remove it. Only when man sees the consequences of his motives and conflicts writ large before him, judges these to be unde- sirable, traces them to their sources and wills to have the evils removed from within, does he make any real headway. War 553 He is not likely to find a complete moral equivalent for war until he understands from the foundation the inner conflicts which burst forth on the surface. This will mean the discovery that no single instinct, such as pugnacity, is to be understood alone, or its activities and emotions sublimated apart from other emotions; since the impulse to war is inseparably connected with self-love and other motives which send him forth to gain power, to possess, to rule, and over-ride. Conflict pertains to our whole nature, with its instincts, impulses, emotions, passions; its trans- mutation must be the work of our entire selfhood, the enlisting of all our energies in a constructive way. It would be unfortunate in the extreme if there could be any per- manent means of suppressing war as one of the expressions of conflict. When we understand war psychologically from start to finish, when we trace it not only to com- mercial jingoes, military jingoes, secret diplomacy, rivalry between nations, the tendency to national expansion, Kultur, and the rest, but look to its sources in human nature; when we will to overcome the conflicts which find expression in war, then indeed we may formulate a sub- stitute and proceed with utmost confidence in the campaign to end war. Till war is understood psychologically, we need pessimists to remind us what man's nature is in actuality, what level man has attained in the development of his emo- tions. For war does not spring from the mere idea, nor does the mere idea of '1 peace among the nations ' ' carry very far. War is a moral issue. It involves the central problems with which religion is concerned. The part of psychology is to insist that we first understand human nature as actually found, with no instinct ignored, no passion veiled, even under the pleasing terminology of the subconscious. Signs of Progress.-The present trend of thought is toward a closer coordination of our knowledge, as indicated, for example, by recent outlines of history, human culture, and science. The next step should be in the direction of the implied social psychology which is to point the way to a union among the nations. There are signs that this step is already being taken. In a recent study of the problems of 554 Social Psychology international government, Hughan, for instance, takes ac- count of the contributions of social psychology.15 Psy- chology throws light, for example, on the widely prevalent notion that there is such a thing as a "criminal nation." It is not possible to classify nations in so simple a way. In fact, there is a contradiction in the conception of a criminal nation, that is, an entire social group a majority of whom are criminal in their standards of conduct. "A criminal is an anti-social person, and a nation of anti-social persons could not endure for a generation."16 The fact of atroci- ties in war is usually accepted as evidence of national criminality. But other nations adopt the same tactics, and the way to abolish them is to abolish war. The great need is for a study of the instincts which lead nations to war, for example, the fear motive, the combative instinct, blood lust; and the war motive which is more than the sum of in- dividual impulses to fight, and includes a social factor which directs these varied instincts to a special purpose.17 There is also an aesthetic element, since the instincts of combat, play, and self-assertion early combined to form a social product which is idealistic even when misdirected: the dramatic experiences of war meet a need in human life, and a peaceful world would have to renounce something "dear to all and held to be good" which "symbolizes what life and reality are." "Relaxation is also an element, since the average man lives a life of great physical and moral inhi- bition. Ecstasy and certain sentiments which are products of tradition also enter into the combination. Patriotism, for instance, is based upon the personification of nations. The nations are indeed drawn toward conflict by "a net- work of instinctive reactions ranging from primitive panic to idealistic patriotism."18 What is the resource ? The possibility of social mutation, in view of the plasticity of human nature, through sublima- tion of the war instincts. In the case of fear, for example, there is encouragement in the fact that the rational grounds for fear tend to become less with the advance of civiliza- 15 Jessie Wallace Hughan, A Study of International Government, 1923. 16 Op. cit., p. 305. 17 Ibid., p. 318. is Ibid., p. 328. War 555 tion; and the irrational fear which still persists is found upon examination to be largely artificial in origin.19 Al- though the instinct of combat neither could nor should be wholly repressed, pugnacity with its attendant impulses may be expressed through other channels. The war im- pulses are almost without exception bound up with the herd instinct, and this instinct has power to rule the others. "Whether or not fear shall continue to lead men to war depends to a great extent upon the development of world organization and of propaganda. Whether the combat impulses shall take the channels of play, the secondary conflict and the contest with nature will doubtless be de- termined by the pursuits upon which society may set its approval. Whether social control is to be lightened in order to provide other relaxations than war, whether the consecration of art to international combat is to continue, whether the ecstasies of patriotism and national honor are to be extended to the larger group-the solution of all these problems lies with the herd itself. ' '20 The volume concludes with a consideration of the possibilities of industrial recon- struction; greater freedom for the individual; modification of custom through education; improvements in internation- alist education; the appeal to virile emotions; education in ethics; and with the realization that instincts are the funda- mental forces. It is to social psychology in its more com- plete development that we must look then for the larger solution of the great problems. Summary.-We may summarize by once more calling attention to the fact that the old psychology is extremely persistent. People have wondered why the nations did not submit their disputes to arbitration. They raise the same question when strikes occur. The implication is that man has reached the age of reason, and should sit down with his fellowman, in the temple of peace, and consider what the difficulty is, as a group of scholars might gather to discuss a purely scientific question. But the newer psychology re- minds us that we are creatures of instinct, emotion, passion, desire, and that our habits are largely due to these dis- positions, not to intelligence. We have known little until 19 Ibid., p. 333. 20 mg., p. 355. 556 Social Psychology lately about hidden conflicts. Revolutions, struggles due to race prejudice, national pride, egoistic demand for domi- nance through Kultur spring out of the affective side of our nature. Most men belong to crowds, crowds easily gather, and when they gather tend on provocation to be- come mobs. Reason does not produce a French Revolution, and reason can not stop it. Granted seething animosities under tyrannical rule, as in Russia, they will break forth when occasion offers; and they will be what they are, and react according to their kind, instead of conforming to reason. To win the World War the Allies had to meet the countries of Central Europe by returning horror for horror, matching frightfulness. This taught people who were willing to think that the world at large had not attained its alleged level of civilization. No power inter- vened to stop the war, and keep the world from experi- encing any benefits. But this proved nothing in regard to the moral law or the existence of God: it gave men opportunity to think and learn. The armistice was fol- lowed by a moral slump, a disinclination, in the United States at least, to think about the war at all. War can not be intelligibly separated from conflict at large, nor is peace separable. Pacifism is an uncritical presupposi- tion. The real lovers of peace in the world are those who are trying to find a complete moral equivalent for conflict. REFERENCES Cooley, C. H., Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902, Chap. VII. Bogardes, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, 1920, p. 237. Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, 1922, Chap. III. Ellwood, C. A., Introd, to Social Psychology, 1917, pp. 91, 114, 170, foil. Hughan, J. W., A Study of International Government, 1923, Chaps. XV-XVII. Trotter, AV., Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 1916. Russell, B., Why Men Fight, 1917. Conway, M., The Crowd in Peace and War, 1915, Chap. XVI. Le Bon, G., The Psychology of the Great War, 1916. Ellis, IL, The Philosophy of Conflict, 1919. Stratton, G. M., Anger: Its Moral and Religious Significance, 1923. Part Five SOCIAL ORGANIZATION CHAPTER XXXV SOCIAL PROGRESS Social psychologists are so greatly interested in the ori- gins of social consciousness that they fail to give a com- plete view of society, or to indicate the trend of social tendencies on the whole. Thus McDougall is absorbed in winning for the instincts the attention which he believes they deserve, Dewey emphasizes habit, Platt dwells on patterns, Williams on rivalrous dispositions. Following the larger clues indicated by Wallas and Ellwood, we look to anthropology, sociology, and ideals of social progress to give scope to our social scheme and avoid un- due stress on a single group of factors. The question of social organization belongs within the sphere of social psychology, in so far as it is a question not only of essen- tial motives but of such activities as play, education, mo- rality, religion. Anthropology.-We have already noted the emphasis which Wissler, departing in a measure from the typical point of view of anthropologists, puts on imitation, in- stinct, the native equipment of man as the basis for ac- quiring culture. He also calls attention to the protective response of culture groups as highly instrumental, as sometimes a cause of war, in many cases the sole cause.1 Culture exists in short because men think as they do. To ij/an and Culture, pp. 272, 326, foil. 557 558 Social Organization say that men are occupied with "feeling," would not be to differentiate men from animals. Feeling goes with doing, and man is able both to feel and to do, and to think about feeling and doing. Innate equipment for thinking is peculiar to man. Culture in brief is "an accumulative structure developed out of the reflective thinking of men." Man's mechanism for thinking functions in the way he learns to direct it. Culture accumulates through the formation of reflective activity in terms of speech and active manipulation. The initial step in culture was the response of man's reflective mechanism. The cave man produced a culture by reflecting on his experience, and directing his activities accordingly. The evolution of cul- ture has proceeded by the rationalization of habits based upon inborn qualities or behavior. History, sociology, economics, and other sciences indicate advances in ration- alization from the individual to the group. We may ex- pect the next great step to be rationalization of all social phenomena or culture. Sociology.-Some sociologists begin with social groups and give little or no consideration to psychological mat- ters as evidences of social change or progress. Blackmar and Gillin devote much space to these matters without sacrificing the interests with which sociologists are most strongly concerned. Accordingly, they define society with due regard for the conscious element: "Society then may be defined as any group of sentient beings who are more or less alike, who recognize more or less clearly that fact, and who have recognized common interests in their social relationships."2 Societies may be grouped as (1) ethnic, based on kinship; (2) civil, based on propinquity; or as instinctive and rational, the groupings which are more instructive for the sociologist. The resulting classification gives the following: (1) sympathetic, blood relatives, e.g., the clan of an ethnic group; (2) congenial; (3) appro- bational; (4) despotic; (5) authoritative; (6) conspir- ital; (7) contractual; (8) idealistic, the result of a popu- lation collectively responding to great ideals and thus 2 Outlines of Sociology, 1915, p. 8. Social Progress 559 forming a society, the bonds being mutual understanding, fidelity, and unselfish spirit of social service. Psychic Factors.-No factors in the creation and per- petuation of a society are more prominent than the psychic forces.3 The individual characteristics which arise from the psychical nature of the associational process are among the chief causes. All society represents the feeling, think- ing, and willing together of people, and the strongest cur- rents of influence are psychical in origin. As altruistic principles gain the ascendency, competition between indi- viduals becomes less severe, and changes from physical to intellectual forces. The individual in attempting to sat- isfy his desires learns to cooperate with and respect the rights of others. So the process of survival of the best changes from a biological to a social process, with the de- velopment of altruistic sentiments. The social fact thus becomes the great fact in the development of the human race. Sociology has to do with bio-psychical units. Social Evolution.-So too in tracing the whole process of development of society these authors constantly note the psychical elements. Special emphasis belongs on the emotions as the bases of ethics, with more stress on feeling at all points than on reason.4 The sociological basis of morality is custom, and custom is rooted in the feelings, in social approbation. One of the roots of morality is in mother love, which was purely instinctive at first, prob- ably caused by blind natural selection. Actions come to have moral value, made persistent by custom, which in turn leads to other moral acts. Stress and tension induced by fear in the presence of a new danger are also factors. The primitive mind tends to relieve emotional pressure by doing something, or by following the suggestion of some individual. Later, imitation becomes effective. Social forms everywhere develop from social action. Self-seeking incentives ruled at first, but social selection resulted in weeding out excessively self-seeking individuals and the growth of social interest; the preservation of the individ- ual gradually passed into concern for the preservation of s Ibid., p. 18. 4 Ibid., p. 61. 560 Social Organization the social group. The love of life and the fear of death have been the two great motives at the basis of the evolu- tionary struggle. These instinctive attitudes were sup- plemented by the instinct for the perpetuation of the race. Cultural activities come in with the elevation of belief and the transformation of conduct involving religious, educa- tional, and scientific interests. Beginning's of Organization.-Any fixity of social rela- tions growing out of instinct, the feeling of likeness, or of conscious social purpose is regarded as social organiza- tion.5 The essential idea is permanency of social relation- ships, as groups develop out of social aggregates, as the necessity of social integration becomes necessary; and as change goes on from unconscious (non-purposive) to con- scious integration. The term "social organism" as an analogy helps one to visualize this complex and invisible social reality which we call a society, implying as it does members or parts articulating with one another to form a whole, an articulation which is psychological rather than physical; the bonds are common feelings, purposes, aims, and hopes. Individuals hand down their functions to suc- cessive individuals, and individuals and groups are caught and molded to social purposes and ends by a complex community interest. Society is more than an organism, however; it is an organization, develops a social activity and exercises a social will in giving individuals their proper place; and establishing the rights and privileges of groups, as well as of individuals. The individual is more than a bio-psychic organism, since he can organize his own mental and physical forces for a special purpose; and the conscious mental effort of society exercised in organizing itself makes it a super-organism or organiza- tion. The family, with its development of the sentiment of love, has had enormous consequences in the creation and preservation of the social order: remove the sentiments arising out of the idea of altruism as developed in the family, and the fabric of society would not stand the strain of the savage instincts of mankind. 5 Ibid., p. 93. Social Progress 561 Socialization and Control.-In agreement with other sociologists, Blackmar and Gillin treat the processes by which society is changed into an organization under the heads of aggregation, communication, association, coopera- tion, and combination; then proceed to a study of social forces, some of which are said to arise from individual desires (appetitive, hedonic) operating in social relations.6 Other individual desires, religious, ethical, aesthetic, intel- lectual, are treated as instinctive-cultural. Although there is no transcendent ego or social mind, the members of a community slowly learn to feel, think, will and act together; an unconscious impelling social force thus be- comes conscious unity of feeling and action. At the out- set there was, of course, no conscious concerted action to build society according to certain ideals; but the influ- ences of the natural environment and the efforts of indi- viduals to satisfy their desires brought settled habits and customs, and unity. Social Laws.-The authors do not limit themselves to Tarde's formulation concerning repetition, opposition, and adaptation; within these three great fundamental move- ments there are more specific kinds of action.7 For ex- ample, the law that "each individual seeks the largest re- turn for the least sacrifice; . . . each individual has a schedule of choices ranging from the most desirable objects to the least desirable . . . individual minds respond sim- ilarly to the same stimuli or like stimuli." Normal prog- ress rather than a perfected system is the social ideal. The greatest good to the greatest number (social well- being) is the aim of social action (Kidd). Imitation (Tarde) is perhaps the medium through which we receive more than in any other way. The degree of sympathy increases as the resemblance increases (Giddings). There are also laws of conscious resemblance, impulsive social action, tradition, the development of social structures, of spiritual development, and survival and progress. The Social Mind.-Following Giddings and Ellwood, the authors note the facts concerning social consciousness 6 Ibid., Part III. Ibid., p. 316. 562 Social Organization without attributing to society a ''mind" over and above the action of individual minds, through interstimulation and response.8 The important consideration, as we have already noted in a previous chapter, is the relationship between individual minds which conditions the thinking, feeling, and willing of the individual and brings him into line with the group. The social mind is originally a product of concerted action, later it adds to society's present volitions the fund of experimental knowledge, or "capitalized experience," which produces steadiness and constancy of the social mind and makes us feel some- times that its results are like those of the individual mind. Thus the process of integration (Giddings) is very much like the process of making up one's individual mind. The great point of difference, of course, is that the social mind does not result from the activity of an organism, as in the case of the individual brain, but from that of an organ- ization, with organized methods of communication. Then too the active efforts of the individual may exist without the conscious efforts of society. The individual may go about his own interests, when these may be for or against society at large. The movements consequent upon social consciousness are also slower than those dependent on in- dividual consciousness. Despite the fact that there is no super-ego, we note that the social mind, "acting as an independent, self- constituted power," and regarding not the single individ- ual but the community as a whole, is an actual force whose effects we can observe and describe. Hence the authors distinguish the social feelings, the social thoughts, and the social will; the noteworthy fact is the consideration given to the power of psychical forces as the essential bonds of union and those to which we must look for all our higher social culture. Social Control.-In contrast with the psychological trend in some quarters toward exclusive emphasis on ex- ternal conditions, with materialism as the conclusion to which the whole inquiry leads, Blackmar and Gillin give 8 Ibid., p. 329. Social Progress 563 recognition to both groups of forces, both the behavioris- tic and the purposive. "The orderly movement of society could not be brought about by accident or maintained without regulative forces; it is not an automatic machine which runs without directive agencies, or at the behest of the blind forces of a physical environment. Nor does it develop and function merely by reason of the uncon- scious social forces at work in its constituent members, each individual more or less blind to the social interests of the group and intent only upon his own selfish inter- ests. ' '9 The blind forces play their part through ' ' syn- ergy" (Lester F. Ward), or the working together of un- conscious individual forces towards a common end; but society is moved in part by conscious purpose, a directive agency plays an increasingly prominent part as social evolution proceeds; there is a large agency representing the social mass, the social mind which gives an orderly arrangement. Even if every man loved his neighbor and conscientiously observed the Golden Rule, there would still be necessity for a central controlling force to keep people in order; since each individual seeks to satisfy his par- ticular wants. Social control begins with taboos, restraints, and to the very last continues to be a restraint. One element arises out of the unconscious, disinterested activities of society; the other out of man's conscious desire for a controlling force. The basis of social order is found in individual desires and actions, and the resultant reactions. Thus sympathy, by making an individual recognize the position of others, so modifies his actions toward his fellows that he hesitates to take a position which is positively detri- mental to others. Sociability is another factor, the sense of justice, the resentment of injustice, control through belief, by social suggestion, legal penalities, social opinion, belief in supernatural sanctions. Man's response to social suggestion is mute but eloquent testimony to the strength of his social impulses. "At all times we are doing things, when in the company of others, which we would not do 9 Ibid., p. 349. 564 Social Organization when alone. This social atmosphere which we breathe presses upon us with a force often unrecognized, but which really moves us almost whithersoever it listeth. ' '10 Social suggestion varies with the prestige and authority of the one who offers it; with the mass or volume of suggestion, which wears down resistance by the sheer force of author- ity ; with the effectiveness of the social provisions designed to prevent the entrance of conflicting suggestions into the mind of the individual; with faith in the unrealized poten- tialities of men. Control is also maintained by social religion, by personal ideals, ceremony, art, personal suggestion, and various in- tellectual factors. Hence the question turns into an in- quiry into the aims of society, ideals of government, control by force, by education; with reference to social inequalities, standards of justice, social pathology, and methods of social investigation. Each of the subjects dis- cussed in a sociological way might be developed at length from the point of view of social organization as a system of psychical forces. Social Unity.-Cooley approaches the question of social organization with the proposition that our life is all one whole: mind is an organic whole, with individual and social aspects.11 This whole may be compared to the music of an orchestra, with cooperating individualities. There is reciprocal influence or causality among the parts con- stituting the unity of the social mind; every thought we think is linked with the thought of our ancestors; the growth of social consciousness is the greatest fact in his- tory. Self-consciousness is not primary and antecedent to social consciousness, as some have maintained, notably Descartes, who was self-absorbed and isolated: most of our reflective consciousness is social. Even in childhood the I-consciousness is in inseparable conjunction with conscious- ness of other persons and of those relations which make up a social group. Indeed, one is aware of the social groups in which one lives as immediately and as authoritatively as one is io Ibid., p. 354. n Social Organization, 1909, Chap. I. Social Progress 565 aware of one's self. It is in this highly intimate sense that Cooley uses the term '1 social organism. ' ' The unique- ness of self-consciousness is in his view no more apparent and verifiable than social consciousness, which may be viewed either (1) in a particular mind, or (2) as a coop- erative activity of many minds. Public opinion or con- sciousness yields a collective view, as organized in a com- municating group. The organic view holds throughout. It is social knowledge, for instance, which is the basis of morality. Any fairly distinct and durable detail is a social type: types involve processes, and process organization. Cooley does not deny that primary groups are usually competitive, involve the self-assertion and appropriative passions of individuals; but these groups are socialized by sympathy under discipline of the community spirit, as in the play-group, the family, the neighborhood.12 Human nature in the primitive sense of the word is group-nature, a primary phase of society, a relatively simple and general condition of the social mind. Again, the motives and tests of social progress are found in congenial family life, with its sense of brotherhood, kindness, feeling of kinship, loyalty. This unity is exemplified by ideals of truth or good faith, fair dealing among intimates; kindness as the law of right intercourse. Primary ideals are later ex- tended to standards of democracy, with ideals of equal opportunity, fair play, loyal service in the common good, free discussion, and kindness to the weak. When we fail to give allegiance to the community ideal, it is because of moral weakness of individuals in whom the higher .nature has transitory and imperfect mastery over the lower; also difficulties of organization: our constructive power is sometimes used up before we attain system. The great need is for strong personality, with an ade- quate mechanism of communication and organization.13 There is need too of enlargement of consciousness, organ- ized sway of public opinion. Cooley holds that the con- scious power of the common people is trying to effectuate the social instruments, that public opinion is becoming Ibid., Chap. III. is Ibid., Chap. V. 566 Social Organization more rational and self-determining. On the whole, the larger mind involves a democratic and humanitarian trend in every phase of life. The masses contribute originality of sentiment; capacity to feel and translate these senti- ments; greater nearness to the spirit of human nature. It is the common people who support the radical move- ments, for instance, our owrn Revolution. They live more in the central current of human experience than men of wealth or distinction. The plain man is richer in things that are common, in faith and fellowship, faith in man and God, loyalty to country. The humbler classes are somewhat less entangled in spirit. Everything that tends to bring mankind together in larger wTholes of sympathy and understanding tends to enlarge the reach of kindly feeling. A larger spirit of service is the active side of democratic feeling, although conflict of some sort is the life of society. The Ethical Standard.-It is plainly difficult for the social psychologist to give his full interpretation of social unity without passing over into the field of ethics. F. II. Bradley long ago insisted that the individual's conscious- ness of himself is inseparable from knowledge of himself as "an organ of the whole": the individual is related to the living moral system, and belief in this real moral or- ganism is the one solution of ethical problems. Hence Bradley's wrell-known doctrine concerning "My Station and its Duties." But this "living moral system" is some- thing that ought to be attained. So too Ellwood intimates that the final determination of what social progress is must be left to ethics. The ideal of course is "increasing adap- tation to the requirements of social existence which shall harmonize all factors, whether internal or external, pres- ent or remote, in the life of humanity, securing the great- est capacity for social survival, the greatest efficiency in mutual cooperation and the greatest possible harmony among all its varied elements."14 Tried by this standard, anthropological, biological, eth- nological, and economic theories naturally fall short. The i* Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 291. Social Progress 567 economist tries to make out that the psychological factors are mere reflexes determined by objective economic con- ditions; but this implies an idea of a passive, not a self- active organism; the organizing, constructive tendencies of the higher phases of mind are left out of account. The most important source of the ideals and standards of the group is found in interrelations of members of the group, and these are primarily personal, social, not economic. Hence Ellwood agrees with Cooley in looking to primary groups, such as the family and the neighborhood, to find the sources of social ideals. Along with the original hu- man nature, these primitive groups dominate the more intimate standards and ideals of social life far more than does the industrial system. Hence Ellwood reaches the important conclusion that 1 'socially accepted ideas and standards are not necessarily reflexes of economic condi- tions. ' '15 The economic system is not so much a rigidly determin- ing element as the basis upon which we act, and economic adjustment may be only a preliminary step, before we can have a humanity adjusted to the requirements of its social existence. The psychological view of progress is encouraging, because it emphasizes the factors which lie within human control. The higher intellectual capacities are, in Ellwood's view, the distinctive ones which have made human progress possible. The accumulation and progressive rationalization of knowledge has been the chief factor in enabling man to master physical nature and con- trol his own nature. Human history is not primarily a movement of ideas. But it is an activity wherein ideas function to secure adjustment. Despite the fact then that the intellect does not always proceed logically, it is the means by which social progress can be rationally planned and humanly controlled. To say this is not to neglect the elements of sympathy and good will, not to ignore the truth that progress depends upon the accumulation of a fund of altruism. Hence to make his view complete Ell- is Op. cit., p. 301. 568 Social Organization wood passes to a consideration of the sociological view of progress, with references to Blackmar and Gillin. So too Graham Wallas maintains, as we have seen, that in the Great Society instinctive action on a great scale is impossible.16 Deliberate thought is greatly su- perior. Thought has its own appropriate group of stimuli, appropriate courses of action, and appropriate emotions. In studying the organization of thought, one, of course, avoids the notion that there is an "organism" whose parts are alive in the sense of a super-life, super-consciousness, or social will.17 Wallas finds no evidence that a self-con- scious society exists. But there may be individuals in an organization, we may aim at organized rather than indi- vidual thought. So too we may consider the organization of will, the organization of happiness. The moral ideal must be pictured, not as a perfect individual, but as a perfect society consisting of all humanity. Testing Everybody.-It is interesting to note that the results of intelligence tests indicate the possibility of an ideally efficient society which, according to Goddard, would be made up of the right proportion of individuals to do all the different types of work that are to be done.18 Each man would do the work for which he is just capable. All people would be tested as were the army recruits, and their mental level would be determined. The level of intelligence for the various occupations would also be determined. With a knowledge of the intelligence level, and a conscious effort to fit every man to his work in ac- cordance with his intelligence level, social efficiency could be promoted in highest degree. The objection which some would raise to this undertaking would be that it would greatly foster the tendency towards a mechanical, quanti- tative conception of humanity; human beings would then be regarded as constant quantities both in and out of social relations. Such a conception would need to be supple- mented by the organic view: the interdependence of indi- viduals within an organic whole in which the individual 16 The Great Society, Chap. X. it Ibid., p. 235. is Human Efficiency and Levels of Intelligence, p. 48. Social Progress 569 is modified by social relations, which are in turn modified by individuals, neither individuals nor society being con- stant. Heredity and Progress.-Patten approaches the concep- tion of social organization by raising the question: How is the social surplus of an epoch transformed into per- manent conditions and mental traits ? 19 How can acquired characters become natural ? Economic traits, for example, are acquired: if they can not be inherited, then the social surplus can not be transformed into mental traits, and enduring progress is impossible. It is plain that all existing organisms have come into their present status through change to fixed types, and man is changing; all the forces that have been at work on organisms are at work on him; he has upbuilding forces which may be studied in actual operation. Heredity is due to growth through use and organic change, use pre- cedes and is the cause of growth and change; acquired characters do in some way become natural. Patten finds that the way is indirect: the improved situ- ation of parents who acquire characters gives to their children more vitality and better opportunity to develop their natural qualities; the result is new qualities which the children utilize by a change of occupation or environ- ment. Qualities are an index of energy, and energy de- termines the environment a man seeks. Qualities are (1) primary, necessary to the existence of an organism; (2) acquired, due to individual action, propagated by imita- tion, forethought, etc.; (3) secondary, resulting from acquired characters, natural expressions of the surplus energy which the primary characters create. Usefulness is a result of naturalness, not its cause. Surplus Energy.-Instinct is the agent which best utiL izes favorable elements. Emotion counters favorable ele- ments and increases with the violence of the struggle. Instinct acts through structure, while emotion acts against it; emotions use structure created for other ends, are pri- marily destructive, create waste products, and force 19 S. N. Patten, Heredity and Social Progress, 1903. 570 Social Organization organisms back to a more primitive state, they are adverse to specialization. But emotion includes regeneration. Al- though there is a cutting back or devolution due to emo- tion, a shock of n on-adjustment which arouses emotion, there is surplus energy which finds expression in impulse; the result is natural characters which lead to better adjustments; these, summed, constitute "character." We admire in a man willingness and ability to confront his environment, and to transform it to suit his purposes. Character is the culmination of a series begun by a sur- plus. It represents the sum of psychic forces adverse to environment. Patten describes selfishness as "a consciously acquired aptitude due to existence under conditions which have created a deficit. Self-interest acts either through imi- tation or through a rational utilitarianism. It is not a natural character; it is the acquired result of a deficit. Altruism, however, is an inherited impulse aroused by a surplus which moves toward characters not created by the present environment, and hence not determined by it in their activity. ' '20 Will and Thought.-The intensity of selfishness is de- termined by the number of acquired characters effective in adjustment. There are three agents of acquired char- acters: imitation, fear, and reason. All acquired charac- ters act on mind through association of ideas. Selfishness is self as an object of fear. Will indicates rising katab- olism, innervation of the part aroused and a stronger flow of energy: we will better if we act with speed and with a quick response in energy. In a strong will katabolic centers are dominant. In a weaker will the anabolic centers with their slower and less effective response, are in the ascendent. These responses are due to attention: a quality of anabolism, because in anabolic cells, at every step, changes take place more slowly and also continue longer than they do in katabolic cells. Hence Patten reaches the unusual conclusion that willing and attention 20 Op. cit., p. 137. Social Progress 571 are opposites. Prolonged attention checks bodily changes. Men with strong wills are poor at analytic thought, and careful thinkers hesitate when in action. As we gain will, we lose in thought power, and we gain in thought as we lose in will power. Causes of Progress.-Each being is a combination of two selves, one anabolic and the other katabolic. Viewed organically, there are three fundamental processes: growth, devolution, and regeneration. Organisms grow under favorable conditions, they devolve toward their undiffer- entiated beginnings under adverse conditions; they regen- erate when these adverse conditions have been overcome or avoided. The psychological expression of these processes is: pleasure, emotion, will. The natural characters in- crease in strength through physical differentiation, not through education. The place of education is among the acquired characters, since will and thought need increas- ing education: education is the strengthening of weak characters. Conscious process must be directed toward the weak side of human nature, to round the character. Patten reaches the conclusion that education can not im- prove on natural characters. Progress is the development of the strong, not where they are strong, but where they are weak. Man can level up his weaknesses till his whole nature is strong. Real education is the bringing of the weak in one set of individuals up to the level of the strong in others. The standard is always an objective one: the manifestation of the natural characters of the strong. In brief, therefore, progress depends on two essential qualities: quickness of action, and slowness of thought. It is not the making of the strong, but that protection of the weak by which differentiation becomes possible. Characters improve not by addition but by differentiation. Genius is a differentiation, not an addition to the powers of men. The mediocre are the undifferentiated. The democratic bringing of all to the level of the best should be the conscious aim of man, for nature will care for prog- ress if men will care for reform. If we shall make progress, we must start with a surplus. The cause of 572 Social Organization progress lies in the increase of energy which prosperity creates, and not in the elimination due to adverse con- ditions. At first glance it might seem possible to interpret Pat- ten's surplus energy theory in economic terms. But in a later work he defines social heredity as "experience trans- mitted from the past, influencing men independently of the economic environment, which is the sum of contempo- rary experiences. Men's minds are generated, molded, and restrained by a realm differing from that formed by the physical features of nature. . . . The reasons why the Southern negro has not established an agricultural civil- ization are psychological and in no sense economic. Men who have lived in a fertile, smiling land become fearless, independent, and impulsive; those who live in difficult places are cautious, and have a keen sense of comradeship and the values of self-subordination . . . "21 Our social inheritances come from two radically different forces that have been acting upon us from the start: one springs from universal deficit-the poverty of the early world; the other emerges from the later store of goods which build the social surplus. Poverty.-The cause of poverty lies in influences from qualities generated by the stress and mutual de- pendence of the primitive world. Poverty instincts are common to all in a universally niggardly environment. Civilization is a self-perpetuating tradition, but it has not yet given men a self-perpetuating heredity. The line of race continuity runs through the poor. Class qualities represent losses, not gains. The lord and lady have not surpassed the coachman and the maid in character devel- opment. Men are molded into their classes by the pressure of social things accumulating generation after generation, which finally sum themselves up into an acquired heredity binding men firmly to their places.22 By virtue of our dependence on tradition we praise sacrifice, denial, hard- ship, disaster, calamities, assuming that the finest character 21 The Nenv Basis of Civilization, 1907, p. 32. 22 I bid., p. 71, Social Progress 573 is the product of difficult tasks. Education is then sup- posed to be the enforcement of such tasks, on the assump- tion that character is made by obstacles. So we surround ourselves with obsolete discomforts for the cure of our souls; we worship saints, martyrs, soldiers.23 But we might develop a new type fitted for the society without poverty toward which we aspire. Sacrifice.-Patten holds that the ennobling quality of sacrifice is in the agonizing surrender of the soul, in the melancholy glory of pain borne with a purpose, also in the forlorn attempt to understand evil.24 All these he takes to be weak, circuitous methods. He finds sacrifice to be an abortive deed conceived in deficit and arrested in action. His alternative is generosity, as a moral vehicle of distribution which has little in common with sacrifice, is freed from personal anguish and foreboding. Thus the surplus energy of the well-paid laborer points to new ob- jects of desire. Our enthusiasms are born of energy and varied desires. Hence in general Patten finds that the plasm of to-morrow's world is activity, while the life- germ is work, which, in a normal, resourceful environ- ment, is the concrete expression of surplus vitality flowing along in interesting, productive, and recompensing proc- esses whose fruit and purpose in civilization is character.25 He is optimist enough to believe that as the earlier activity ran into the groove of renunciation, the activity of a man moving about in a world sufficiently safe to let him do earnestly what he wants to do will groove itself into good- ness. From this viewpoint vice is energy aborted by the lack of variety, the imprisonment of desires, and the blunders of short-lived races.26 The elements which give character to men are: vivid interests, energy, and awak- ened natural abilities. A man of character is one whose inner self finds complete expression through his activity; he is not a "self-made" but a self-emancipated man. The elements which we note in a genius are inherent in others and would exhibit themselves in their actions, if they pos- 23 Ibid., p. 149. 25 Ibid., p. 156. 24 Ibid., p. 153. 26 Ibid., p. 164. 574 Social Organization sessed surplus energy, and were in direct contact with nature. This ideal of complete sublimation of all the energies of men suggests the adoption of Ellwood's conception of religion, in the latest statement of his social theory: "so- cial science demands a religion which will release the creative energies of man; which will not only inspire faith and hope in individual life, but enthuse communities for progress; which will not only strengthen and uplift in- dividuals, but send them forth to build a new and better social world. ... A positive social religion and social science will in practice be inseparable ... a religion of human service [which will] postulate the supreme worth of men no matter what their race, class or condition may be . . . the humblest service for man will then take on new dignity."27 Ellwood believes that modern social science shows that all the wealth of the world really re- sides in men. There are no values apart from men. All the values we know are their creation. Human beings are then the supreme values, and man creates values only by coming into relationships with other men. The inculcation in the individual of the attitude of service toward his fel- lows is then the great consideration; the strength of human groups consists in extending and intensifying their power to cooperate. Summary.-Our study of social progress from the psy- chological point of view reminds us of various considera- tions which have come before us in analyzing the life of the individual, and in noting separate elements in social life. The hypothesis of the "drive" to account for the energies of the individual implies the idea of inherent life going forth to seek expression in varied forms, to invent, construct; to participate in group activities where spon- taneity is a motive. There are surplus energies, and there appears to be life enough to carry man through with hap- piness or satisfaction. The problem of social organization is to take into account not only the patterns, motives, plans, promptings for culture, government, social control in gen- 27 The Reconstruction of Religion, 1922, p. 161. Social Progress 575 era!; but the repressions, inhibitions, taboos, and all other social restraints which have kept men from freely develop- ing as social beings tending to work together, find satis- faction together, produce, attain rounded development. Life is bountiful. It has provided the energies, the in- stincts, conditions, opportunities. There is surplus enough for progress, for the attainment of social unity in its high- est forms. We are in sight of the elements which go to make up the Great Society. We have high ideals of social organization involving the principles which bring greatest satisfaction. We have lagged behind, however, in our study of social conflicts. This study should reach far beyond the spheres of interest of the limited partisanships and loyal- ties of special groups. REFERENCES Wissler, C., Man and Culture, 1923, Part III. Blackmar and Gillin, Outlines of Sociology, 1915, Parts I-IIL Cooley, C. H., Social Organization, 1909. Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, 1917, Chap. XIII; The Reconstruction of Religion, 1922. Wallas, Graham, The Great Society, 1914, Chaps. X, XI. Patten, S. N., Heredity and Social Progress, 1903; The New Basis of Civilization, 1907. CHAPTER XXXVI CONFLICTING GROUPS Interest in social progress reminds us, by contrast, of those motives which to a large extent make society an inter- action between conservatism and liberalism. Turning first to conservatism, we note that psychologically it is a ques- tion of stereotypes; the maintenance of custom, tradition, conventionality: many customs and beliefs are imitated or taught and transmitted simply because they have been imi- tated, taught, and transmitted. Loyalty to an organiza- tion will lead a man to sustain principles or beliefs long after he has outgrown them, when he has serious objection to them, and knows that the liberals are right. Liberals and conservatives discover themselves in all groups, and among the latter the good conservative and the bad conservative. The good conservative "defends the faith," works to sus- tain and preserve values, keeps the progressives from ad- vancing too rapidly. The bad conservative is not only a mere creature of habit but an avowed doctrinaire, knows his creed exceedingly well, throws temperament and vigor- ous self-assertion into the task of blocking progress; he is likely to become an alarmist, aggressively opposing progress by arousing fear, anxiously raising doubts on all occasions. The reproach of conservatism is first put upon one's par- ents, then on the passing generation, on the world, the "other party" in religion, in politics. Youth tends to react even against the conservation of the best, in art, in poetry, music, language, culture; it invents the new and strange just to be different. Progressivism brings in fresh vigor, and tends to make a clean sweep, while conservatism in all its forms presents a solid front of inhibitions. The liberal of early manhood may become the conservative of middle 576 Conflicting Groups 577 life. Some progressives wait half a life-time for recogni- tion, while a sufficient number of conservatives drop out of active work to permit slow growth. The conservative is on the whole static, while the progressive is dynamic. Radicalism.-The radical represents the extreme atti- tude of reaction against existing customs and beliefs. Tem- perament is a factor in people who may be classified as "agitators" rather than as workers or thinkers; persons who do not readily see the value of existing social institu- tions, who are misfits, who have a grievance, respond to the crowd spirit, to propaganda, who generalize on emotional grounds. Some men are too individualistic to try to find their appropriate places in existing society, too unreasonable to cooperate, too independent to learn significant facts con- cerning themselves, for example, that they are asserting the self while seeming to work for the public good. In the better sense, it may be said that society would not progress unless there were occasional upheavals due to the protests of radicals. It has been said that it is the con- servative who makes the work of the radical safe. Extreme radicalism is like the outburst of the repressed individual whose condition is greatly improved when he at last vents his emotion in an outburst. The radical is commonly thought of as produced by society in a country where op- pression prevails, but the conservative is no less truly a social product. Society is an interaction of contrasted ele- ments, always tends to one extreme or the other. The radical is more apt to be an individualist, to take the initi- ative and break from his past. Tempered by circumstance, he may become a progressive leader of real service. The Individual and Society.-Baldwin defines the indi- vidual as the particularizing social force, while society is the generalizing social force.1 The individual produces the new variations, the new things in the social world. As a thinker he introduces the thoughts by which conventions, beliefs, instincts, are modified. As an inventor he makes the inventions which overthrow the older devices of labor, establish communication, commerce, intercourse. The indi- i Social and Ethical Interpretations, p. 462. 578 Social Organization vidual feels and protests against social inadequacies, the socially worn-out; makes the molds of legislation; rises to emergencies; particularizes new forms; supplies the es- sential material of all human and social progress. Society then generalizes what the individual has particularized. So the permanence of the new element in social life is secured. Real progress is measured by social generaliza- tion. As thus defined, it is difficult to disengage the individual from society. In Baldwin's terms, man is a social outcome rather than a social unit. Every act of the individual is social because his acts are society's first. Everything that he learns is copied, reproduced, assimilated from his fellows. In a way the mind never invents anything new. All mental content involves prior presentations. The mind makes nothing out of whole cloth. The child's originalities are in great part the new ways in which he finds his knowledges falling together in consequence of his attempts to act to advantage on what he already knows. But Baldwin is no less insistent in his emphasis on the disruption wrought by the individual. The new invention conies to create dis- turbance, riots, bloodshed, labor disputes, boycotts, revolu- tions of the unemployed. The printing-press, for example, drove the illuminator and his art out of existence. The steam-engine relieved the post-horse of his burden and the driver of his employment. Youth.-With reference to the part now played by in- dividuals, Platt notes that radicalism in the guise of youth is pervading all life; it is in the air, with "a general resent- ment of all form. Youth has been emancipated; it gets good pay; it gets too much pay. It has the money to try out its youthful fancies; it has power before it has reason, and it is rioting in the expression of this power-no wonder the world is radical! The 1 cubist ' movement is but an ex- pression of contempt for art's conventions; as is the new free verse. And then there is the 'new music,' which is neither musical nor new, but is interesting as a survival of the primitive love for noise and for rhythm. Youth is largely responsible for this. This is the age of youth, and Conflicting Groups 579 youth is setting the standards; and youth is defiant of form. Youth has conventions of its own, it is true, and it lives strictly within these, being here the most conservative of all groups; but its conventions are not the conventions of experience, and so, frequently, jar somewhat this prosaic world. ' '2 Rivalry.-Williams places much emphasis on rivalry as a motive in all social contrasts. The rivalrous disposition is satisfied through the manifestation of the superiority of self and the inferiority of others; it brings out the latent capacities of men and women; stimulates productive effort, discovery, invention; the projection and completion of great enterprises, advancement in art, science, and letters; it brings the most capable leaders to the front. Any disposi- tion may be intensified, given an egoistic turn by associat- ing with rivalry. Rivalry seeks what will win recognition whether it has any value or not. It tends to conflict be- cause it does not recognize the annoyances of others, is never satisfied, tends to maintain secrecy, e.g., "secret practice" in athletics, secret diplomacy (duplicity versus open diplomacy). It over-values its products, makes costly expenditures, leads to waste of time, sets standards of social rivalry. The rivalrous disposition is in fact so strong in us that we do not question the rivalrous social attitudes which prevail. But a progressive social order requires the sub- ordination of the rivalrous disposition to intelligence and sympathy, in behalf of an ideal of personality. Elements of Conflict.-Conflict is inevitable in groups of all kinds, family, industrial, political, economic, educa- tional-so Williams maintains-because of lack of a suffi- cient number of sympathetic and intelligent leaders.3 The motives are: rivalry; domination; fear; the resistful dis- position (which seeks to remove obstacles to the satisfaction of any disposition) ; conformity (promoted by fear, by the impulse to admire the superior, and to avoid the contempt accorded to the inferior) ; the sexual instinct, including speech, song, manners that attract; and the acquisitive dis- 2 The Psychology of Social Life, pp. 35, 206, 227. * Principles of Social Psychology, Chap. II. 580 Social Organization position, the tendency to acquire what satisfies the elemental impulses, not to acquire for superiority: the virtues spring- ing from it are industry, persistence in work, courageous defense of possessions, thrift, frugality. As we find them, men embody many contrary disposi- tions, and much of the conflict of life arises from the strug- gle between opposing dispositions which animate them. A man may often appear inconsistent, when the disposition which is most conspicuous in his makeup may be one which he is working to overcome: his conduct appears incon- sistent because he is consistently trying to make certain dispositions the organizing forces of his life. Then too the individual is subject to the social suggestion of group atti- tudes. The intellectual disposition ought to rule, sympathy should be dominant; but sympathy is weak in comparison with egoistic dispositions, because the action of sympathy has been largely confined to the family, while the egoistic dispositions have been predominant in economic relations, have mainly determined institutional development. The altruistic dispositions are for the most part unorganized, lack the. stimulus which is imparted by organizations. "Successive generations of natural, sympathetic young people come up, feel impulses to improve conditions, 'learn their lesson,' 'subside,' and become more or less hopeless and indifferent."4 The development of altruism as an attitude of mind in fact requires a constant resistance of social pressure of traditional organizations, also ideals sug- gested by sympathetic and intelligent impulses. Commercial Conflict.-The prevailing motive of busi- ness enterprises being the quest of profits, the commanding financial and industrial positions are ordinarily gained by men of strong rivalrous and dominating dispositions, whose behavior determines the trend of economic development.5 Others conform; variations in industrial behavior are stifled: the real conflict is between public welfare and dominating financiers, autocratic control in the interest of private profits. So eventually there comes to be a monopoly of custom and prestige. The investors and consuming pub- 4 Ibid., p. 63. 5 Ibid., Chap. V. Conflicting Groups 581 lie acquiesce. Untrained impulses in people are exploited by business men in profit-seeking. Advertising is entirely a means of effective suggestion to buy, not a means of stimulating rational choice. In their consumption the masses are creatures of social suggestion. There is no agency that regulates production from the point of view of the development of personality. The instinct to seize and appropriate is closely connected with the instinct to dominate, use another in getting what holds attention. A number of strong motives are involved in profit-seek- ing. There is no impartial inquiry into these motives, be- cause of the dominating class. The conflict is intensified by the consolidation of labor organizations to meet the organi- zation of capital. Then too the individual lacks the social point of view in production. His narrow vision intensifies his impulsive action. The aversion of the manager to discussion is due to the fact that his egoistic dispositions are stronger than his intellectual and sympathetic. The result is what Taylor called "the mili- tary system of management." The organization of labor seems a menace to authority in industry, and so it is re- sisted. Hence conflict ensues. The attention of workmen is unconsciously diverted from work by a dissatisfied state of mind. Hence deliberate inefficiency becomes a wide- spread practice. The new attitude of labor demands greater certainty regarding the future, with a realization that the conflict can not be settled so long as it is a conflict over profits: every union demand for higher wages questions an employer's right to profits. The laborer demands participa- tion in the management of industry, he resists conditions which forbid his development as a man. The great ob- stacle to co-operative management is the existence of the business man of the individualistic type. The problem is to turn the ingenuity, inventiveness of the profit-seeking system to the account of inventions in industry which shall serve the public welfare. Family Rivalry.-Williams traces the rivalrous dispo- sition through the entire field of business, economics, gov- ernment, the professions, in family relations, the question 582 Social Organization of property, woman's place in society, and the widespread contrasts between egoism and idealism. lie finds family egoism beginning with the impulsive attachment of wife to husband, or husband to wife, or parent to child.6 An im- pulsive attachment tends to be exclusive. Each becomes partial to the fancies, whims, ideas, and attitudes of the other, and the horizon of both is limited thereby; pride is fostered; there is absorption in children. Both may be un- congenial and unsympathetic, they may be congenial without being sympathetic, or sympathetic without being congenial; and the family sympathy may be absorbing. Family rivalry values behavior according to the social re- action to it, not for the public welfare or the development of personality; it values beliefs and opportunities according to social reaction, not according to truth or falsity; it does not deter a member from behavior which is contrary to pub- lic welfare. Sectarian Conflict.-Tracing the conflict of interest in cultural relations, Williams finds the same opposition in the sects, for instance, in the traditionally minded clergy- man who represents a great organization, in the prestige of a reputation for excellence in virtue; in the emphasis on dogma, the traditional creed; in the rivalry of churches.7 The religion of fear (of Christian theology) is opposed to the religion of sympathy and intelligence, which seeks trans- formation of character and social relations in this life: the condition required of the Christian is precisely the kind which will make for satisfactory social adjustment in the industrial and political relations of the present day. It is no longer a question of revealed in contrast with other truth, but of opposition between egoistic and altruistic dispositions. The prevailing behavior is egoistic, while the founder of Christianity preached sympathetic behavior. The system of absolute tradition in the churches is weak- ened, the unworldly gospel of love and self-sacrifice is no longer preached with the same assurance. The basis has be- come psychological: the social message of the Gospel. The Church has been on the side of the employing class, but « Op. cit., Chap. XVIII. 7 ibid., Chap. XXI. Conflicting Groups 583 ecclesiastical leaders have urged that this is contrary to the spirit of Christianity. Educational Conflict.-In colleges conflict is due to dif- ferences of disposition and degree of mentality on the part of teachers.8 Some are local in their interests, absorbed in the social life of the place, with little or no initiative; others of larger mentality manifest strong rivalrous dispositions, use their branch of learning to advance themselves; while those of pronounced intellectual disposition resist the in- fluences of the other groups. There is often conflict in the mind of the teacher himself, due to rivalrous as contrasted with the intellectual disposition. The professor stands for an ideal which requires freedom in teaching, for example, in the social sciences. The great teacher is a center not only of intellectual inspiration but also of moral and spiritual forces. But sectarian and economic groups intervene, there is conflict between the administration and the faculty, or the trustees set up the standard of a business organization; and the main body of the graduates do not accept the intel- lectual ideal. Williams defines the essential function of education as the stimulation and organization of children and youth in a way that will prepare them to meet the problems to con- front them in various social relationships, from the point of view of public welfare. There should be a measure of self- elimination through recognition of an obligation to the idealistic trends of the time, with appreciation of the con- flict between acquired social attitudes and tendencies to de- velop the power of learning. Much depends on the selec- tion of impulses to be fostered. Efficiency should be re- garded as more than a matter of energy, persistence, skill, and sagacity in work: it involves such a mental adjustment in all social relations as conduces to a minimum of annoy- ance and a maximum of smooth-running cooperation. Stampedes.-Turning to a consideration of more vio- lent conflicts, we recall the fact of man's suggestibility, and the sub-surface tendencies which may rise into action on occasion. "Stampedes have their leaders just as mobs have 8 Op. cit., Book VII. 584 Social Organization their instigators, as political parties have their bosses, and as great movements have their saints and heroes. Each great stampede has ... its 'runaway horse,' its hero who is obeyed blindly and devotedly followed even to the point of destruction. The suggestion of the hero is fatal in its effects" (Sidis). We find abundant confirmation of this in history. Out of what Sidis calls the "disaggregation in the social consciousness, ' ' fleeting and unstable as it is, there arises the mob-self with its primitive emotions.9 The crowd is ready to follow almost any one who shall appear, if he has sufficient power to start something. But the stampede may quickly peter out if the leader is unable to keep his place, and may disappear as quickly as he came. Unable to lead itself, the crowd falls back for the moment, and forthwith another "runaway horse" appears who has new "patterns" of tyranny to displace the old. The world awaits the "news" in vain, for it is impossible to dissociate the latest revolution from the multiplicity of propagandisms which vie with one another in the effort to shape public opinion. Financial crazes have been described in similar terms, as due to the enthusiasm of a speculative mania, and an ab- ject fear of panics. Religious manias in the Middle Ages exemplified the same tendencies, notably in the case of waves of zeal to take Jerusalem and save the true cross. We do not find sufficient explanations in the mere idea involved in the mania, but must consider what emotions are set free and how. Self-cofltrol as an inhibition appears to be more superficial than we had supposed. It counts for naught when a stampede is started among emotional people. Panics.-McDougall characterizes a panic as the sim- plest example of collective mental life.10 Groups of gre- garious animals are liable to a panic. The panic of a crowd of human beings appears to be generated by the same simple instinctive reactions. The essence of the panic is the collective intensification of the instinctive excitement, with its emotion of fear and its impulse to flight. The prin- ciple of primitive sympathy seems to afford a complete and 9 The Psychology of Suggestion, p. 304. i° The Group Mind, Chap. II. Conflicting Groups 585 adequate explanation. Each man perceives the sympathy of fear, the blanched distorted faces, the dilated pupils, the high-pitched trembling voices, the screams of terror of his fellows. The experience of each one works on all the others. But a few may start a panic, e.g., in a theater when flames dart out among the wings, and the startled expressions of the few arouse the whole throng. In a panic the dominance of the one emotion is so complete as to allow no scope for any of the subtler modes of collective mental operation. A few fearless ones may however arrest a panic. Mobs.-Mass action readily leads to hysteria and manias under favoring conditions. What is needed to start mob action is some compelling incentive, as in the pogroms in Russia, American citizens in a lynching escapade; or the mob in Omaha, in 1919, when the mayor, who tried to quiet the crowd, was attacked by the mob and dragged with a rope around his neck and nearly hanged. Mobs exhibit the same tendencies to revert to primitive motives as armies in war-time. In mob action restraints are removed, and men drop back to the level of the crudest passions. Brutal deeds are done without any check upon these passions, and the coarser emotions have unimpeded expression through violent physical force. There is plainly no consideration of real causes or of consequences, sometimes no discrimination between the innocent and the guilty: a highly intelligent and prominent colored citizen may be brutally attacked and murdered merely because he is a negro and happens to be in a town where race hatred suddenly breaks forth. Thus a mob may be a purely unthinking resultant of accumu- lated emotion, ready to burst into slaughterings on slight provocation, as in an instance in Texas when a mere rumor led to violent deeds through a whole town. Again, in revo- lutionary mobs impulses and hatreds restrained through long periods may break out in any sort of violence which momentary impulses suggest. A mob is anti-social, and highly imitative. For the time being, the individuals who compose it lose hold of the habits which involve their customary choices, and assume merely generalized modes of reaction of emotional, socially 586 Social Organization plastic types. Hence deeds are done of which the men as individuals by themselves would heartily disapprove, and which they try in vain to defend when the mob has done its evil work. The use of masks or white hoods helps the members of the mob to conceal real identities, while the men accomplish deeds which they would be ashamed of, un- masked, when they are in their "right mind." Strikes.-In considering strikes we bear in mind the salient facts which psychology discloses concerning the ori- ginal nature of man, the tendency to revert to primitive impulses, to respond to leaders in an impulsive way, and to foster the sentiments of the clan. The strike may come about after long deliberation, with consideration of arbitra- tion as a substitute; or it may eventuate suddenly, with little or no regard for reason, and utterly ignore possibili- ties of arbitration. It may very well represent a crowd in all its phases, but it is potentially a mob, and may easily break out into a riot. In the more radical sense of the word it would hardly be possible at all unless it stood for more or less violent partisanship, with feelings of animosity toward the corporation in question, the present economic system opposed by labor unions, the press which is de- nounced as unfriendly and "bought up" by capitalism. When strike-breakers appear, the animosity increases, and the crowd is constantly on the verge of breaking forth into an incipient riot. If the on-looking crowd is not sympa- thetic, the animosity increases. If the public takes sides against the strikers, it is charged with not knowing the facts, since "the papers will not publish them." When several days pass and failure seems imminent, the strike leaders may descend to personalities and attack leadership on the part of loyal workers who have not gone on strike or leadership among the strike-breakers. Efforts are made to intimidate recruits, to interfere with the service. Mass- meetings called by the strikers readily become intensely emotional. Thus the motivation of the strike runs through the whole range of primitive impulses and emotions, ex- hibits all the crowd phenomena, discloses pent-up emotions, and shows the difficulty of the rule of reason wherever there Con/toingr Groups 587 is accumulated feeling. Like war, a strike tends to arouse people out of neutrality, and in so far as they take sides it is difficult for them to determine the facts of the case. The psychologist finds clues to the motivation of strikes by bearing in mind the results of balked impulses and re- pressed emotions in other fields of human experience. The strike as a reaction against adverse working conditions; long hours; monotonous work; unfair industrial relations; a superintendent who is heartily disliked; unjust discrimi- nations in discharging or advancing employees; is in gen- eral an expression of smoldering resentments which tend to burst forth in the case of individuals, and which are in- tensified when little groups of people share their grievances with one another. The little group is an incipient crowd. The groups taken collectively are an incipient strike. Yet the workers themselves might never go on strike, or if they did might never resort to violence were it not for leader- ship or the agitations fostered by laborites. But, under the whetting leadership of promoters, pent-up emotions may not only be greatly intensified but given definiteness and objective. The troubles of other groups in other states are drawn upon to intensify the situation. The local situation thus becomes part of a national situation. Members of a union the country over constitute a crowd. Associations of unions constitute a still larger crowd. Class consciousness is evoked to sustain the sentiment against the capitalist class. There is a very general attitude toward the whole economic order, with a conviction that somehow the prevailing order must be changed. But groups may differ as to the way the reformation or revolution is to be brought about. Individuals may differ from their leaders in the union. When mild strikes fail, violence is advocated by some, but the degree of assent aroused is likely to be dependent on mere happenings from day to day, as the strike develops, as failure threatens, as sym- pathizers in other unions increase or fail to take action. Sabotage may be advocated by the few who see no way to success save through violence. Some of the leaders may feel and think according to a general policy of violence, 588 Social Organization while the majority may oppose any such proceeding. Some may see in any strike an opportunity for intensifying the whole labor situation, preliminary to a general strike, and may foster strikes on the slightest provocation, on the ground that "the more strikes, the better." Thus the situation psychologically speaking may take on one aspect after another till it involves world issues. The few leaders who thus generalize have opportunity to profit by local feelings, if strikes are ruthlessly repressed, prisoners brutally treated, or if the state police are called in, the state guard called out, and when the stirring emo- tions increase to a point where little incidents have the force of great events. It is to be understood that many of the workers have little power of reasoning the situation out to the end. Some may have little knowledge of English and, lacking understanding of the situation, may be all the more ready to respond to an emotional appeal. Others may have repressed resentments due to years of oppression under foreign governments, resentments which await opportunity to burst forth, even though there is no reasonable connec- tion with the current situation. The individual may have little power to organize his sentiments, but the gathering of little groups, followed by the big meetings, provides for that. Sometimes the workers are young and inexperienced, and have little notion what a strike involves. Leaders with strike experience are able to meet the various types of workers where they are. And conditions change as time passes, the world becomes accustomed to the labor situation. Commenting on a prolonged strike in the shoe industry, at Brockton, Mass., a reader recently wrote to the editor of The Boston Herald to generalize the situation regarding strikes, as indicated by this strike in particular: American labor is divided into three distinct groups: (1) those who do not care to be affiliated with any union; (2) those of conservative tendencies, who wish to belong to some union as an insurance against unfair wages and conditions; (3) those who are absolutely communistic in blood; they have no sympathy with anybody but themselves, or with any systems but their own. They always ask the impossible. Conflicting Groups 589 They do not care to work themselves, and try to keep others from it. Strikes to them are only skirmishes lead- ing to an ultimate goal. Winning means one notch nearer their program-complete control of industry and government. It is this complexity of purposes in the same ranks that makes the situation difficult to under- stand, and almost impossible to settle. The only possible solution is one dealing with all three groups. Logically the third group should not be employed at all. Being communistic in spirit, they regard their employment as slavery, they are trouble-makers; nothing reasonable can satisfy them. Ely calls attention to the fact that while strikes were once more or less spontaneous outbursts against conditions which the worker regarded as unrighteous and oppressive, the strike was commercialized after a time and was adopted as part of a permanent policy.11 It then became a device to be employed when conditions were favorable, to be laid aside when conditions were unfavorable, and to be used without regard to ethical considerations when its employment seemed to be profitable. The motives are therefore to be sought in the beliefs of laborites. For instance, labor leaders have maintained that strikes strengthen the solidarity of unions; encourage the members to make personal sacrifices for the common good; force employers to respect the strength of the union; and are not particularly costly in the long run. It is said that the time lost in strikes merely takes the place of an enforced vaca- tion, seasonal stoppages, and other kinds of unemployment. The tendency is to make light of the injury and destruc- tion resulting from strikes. Little is said about the gravely injurious effects of strikes on the strikers themselves. Nor do we hear much about the effect on the public and em- ployers-not from strike promoters. From the social standpoint the strike is to be set down as an evil, and all justifiable means should be taken to prevent it. Unrest.-Brooks points out that all progress carries with it its own disquietude: discontent continuous in in- HR. T. Ely, Outlines of Economics, new ed., 1908, p. 395. 590 Social Organization tensity is never found, its fevers alternate with periods of rest and well-being.12 The press is a factor in making the most of all our fault-findings and agitations. Well-paid labor is quicker to take offense than labor of a lower grade; higher earnings, ampler knowledge and freedom go writh new ambitions and a keener sensitiveness concerning hin- drances to progress. General education is a cause, the spread of democratic ideas, the higher education of women, strife for things desired, the decay of authority in religion. Formerly religion was used to quiet the masses and recon- cile them to their lot, but when dissatisfaction could no longer be silenced by religion, the blame was turned from the other world and put straight upon this one, on the present human society. Again, political agitation creates more aspirations than can be realized. The plain fact of economic inequality is of great moment. The ideal of giving labor a new chance then comes into view. Appleton emphasizes fear as a cause of labor unrest, through danger to life, health, financial and social position, regard for dependents of old age, when resources shall be exhausted. Resentment follows fear. "Avarice is a common expression of unrest, it is always seeking to possess without giving political returns"; with the coming of poverty and unemployment there are violent outbreaks against personal property.13 The baser kind of politician feeds on unrest, the fears and sufferings of the unfortunate are played upon. Government waste and the failure of legislation are also causes. Watkins says that industrial unrest is the all-inclusive problem of modern industrialism: it contains all the elements of industrial maladjustment, but it is also symptomatic of remediable conditions. There is nothing new about the modern unrest save its present extensiveness and effects, the demands of the masses being more far-reaching and determined. World-wide unrest has increased as workers have grown in intelligence. Unrest will continue as long as industrial groups have divergent interests. 12 J. G. Brooks, The Social Unrest, 1903, Chap. ITT. 13 W. A. Appleton, What We Want and Where We Are, 1922, p. 88. Conflicting Groups 591 Speaking from the point of view of mental tests, God- dard expresses the conviction that a potent cause of unrest is found in the enormous proportion of misfits in the indus- trial world. Hence there is discontent and unhappiness where there might be contentment, if a man were doing work fitted for him, as shown by his intelligence level. For a man who is doing work well within his capacity, and which calls forth all his ability, is apt to be happy and contented. It is very difficult to disturb such a person by any kind of agitation.14 Socialism.-Social psychology is not concerned with arguments for and against socialism in any of its forms, as a plan for economic reform or revolution, but must take account of it as a reason for unrest. The arguments of an economist may be taken as typical evidences. After noting its weaknesses and its strength, Ely indicates his conclusion (1) that socialism is not necessarily to be the desirable out- come: the socialist attempts to predict the course of eco- nomic evolution too far in advance; (2) the socialist under- estimates the efficiency of the present system; (3) is too pessimistic with respect to the present: he sees all the starvation, misery, luxury, extravagance, but passes by the millions of happy homes; does not see that the world is full of opportunity for the rising generation; (4) under- estimates the importance of individual responsibility; on the whole the lazy and incompetent are sifted out; bad heredity and a lack of good training are causes of much economic misfortune; (5) also underestimates the impor- tance of free enterprise in industry; (6) socialism would endanger liberty; there would simply be the public sphere of employment; (7) the interpretation put upon history does not establish the validity of the socialist position.15 Ramsay MacDonald, arguing for socialism, notes con- ditions which make it difficult for mankind to improve: there are signs of degeneration all around us; we can not draw upon the reservoirs of good physique which once were 14 Human Efficiency and Levels of Intelligence, p. 60. For other causes of unrest, see Ewer, Applied Psychology, 1923, Chap. XIX. 15 Op. cit., p. 521. 592 Social Organization available in large village populations; we have not that mental robustness which comes from fresh air, sound and plain food, and a contact with the invigorating life of nature, a fecund seed-time and joyful harvest, of tuneful spring and solemn winter; the family unity is weakened, the motherly housewife almost belongs to the blessings that were, the head of the house is becoming a survival of words which once had a meaning but now is a reminiscence; the masculine strength of Puritanism is gone; the comforts which the too wealthy seek are Byzantine; humanitarian- ism has forbidden nature to slay the weak; we are in the morasses of a valley, and our salvation lies on the way up the hills; and the state today is anarchistic. It is for the whole of the people to take over the power that remains, bridle and harness it, and make it do good work: around socialism are ranged the living impulses of religion, ethics, art, literature; and those creative impulses which fill man's heart from an inexhaustible store of hope and aspiration.16 Summary.-People tend to fall into two groups within organizations, conservatives and progressives, and social development goes on by means of opposition between them. The individual and society are also opposed in a measure, although the individual introduces the variations which society assimilates. Youth plays a part by its reactionary radicalism. Rivalry is a disposition running through the whole series of social conflicts, in families, sects, business, education. Stampedes, panics, and mobs exemplify vari- ous crowd motives of emotional characters, anti-social, imi- tative; the tendency to follow a leader or runaway horse, to flock after heroes. Strikes involve a great complexity of motives, especially class consciousness; and within those groups which take part in strikes there are various types, some conservative, others communistic. It is difficult to appreciate this complexity of motives unless we take ac- count of varied points of view from which strikes are de- scribed, and the element of morale fostered by labor unions as unifying organizations. Again, the causes of unrest are widespread, and antagonism to prohibition has recently 16 The Socialist Movement, 1911, p. 243. Groups 593 become a motive. Social psychology takes account of labor and economic movements as sources of unrest and conflict, without concerning itself with economic reasons. In an earlier chapter we noted a classification of types of socialist propaganda, with the fostering of fictitious universes of discourse. Each type of unrest or conflict moves in its pseudo-environment, with its symbols, its catch-words, or its ideals. Reality, if envisaged at all, lies somewhere be- tween the extremes; and progress results, if at all, when radicalism is restrained by conservatism, and a third point of view appears. REFERENCES Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, pp. 164, 202. Baldwin, J. M., Social and Ethical Interpretations, 4th ed., pp. 108, 462. Platt, C., The Psychology of Social Life, pp. 35, 206, 227. Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, Books I, II. Ely, R. T., Outlines of Economics, new ed., 1908, pp. 395, 521. Sidis, B., The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898, Chaps. XXIX, XXXII. McDougall, W., The Group Mind, 1920, Chap. II. Watkins, G. S., An Introduction to the Study of Labor Prob- lems, 1922, Chap. XIV. Brooks, J. G., The Social Unrest, 1903, Chap. III. CHAPTER XXXVII LEADERSHIP AND THE MASSES With recognition of leadership in social groups we turn to the study of groups of higher types. Even the stampede has its leader, and there must be a leader to start the sug- gestion which changes the crowd into a mob. Yet such leadership, like that of the runaway horse, is for a brief period. Human groups show a high development of lead- ership, as we ascend the scale from primitive levels to civilization in its present forms. Social groups involve more difficult adjustments as codes, laws, systems are in- troduced and organization becomes more important; leaders are needed to bring unwritten law and tradition into shape, also to take the initiative in new directions. With- out such leadership human groups would show no more capacity to make wise adjustments than their weakest members.1 Coordination of the thought and activities of all members of the group with the thinking and acting of some leader, who thinks ahead and sets the example, is what makes superior adjustments possible. Nothing great is achieved without such leadership. The individual, as we have before noted, is the source of variation in the social life of both thought and action. Certain leaders better fitted than others come forward to cope with new situations; others take their places after a time, and the traditional knowledge of the group takes on other forms. Social Selection.-The social group also manifests se- lective power in choosing its leaders, since there is no leadership without the adhesion of the group to the leader, and if the freedom of the selection is untrammeled the probability of a wise selection is greater. Personal leader- i See Ellwood, Introd, to Social Psychology, p. 158, foil. 594 Leadership and the Masses 595 ship may depend upon suggestion as conveyed in such trivial things as a good physique or a good voice; while self-confidence, good appearance, ease of diction, are all potent factors, also reserve, and even silence (Platt). Von Moltke was reputed to be "silent in seven languages." Grant was silent in one only, but his taciturnity was a large factor. By contrast, the mob leader may have neither commanding presence nor silence, but may be dis- tressingly vocal, manifesting supreme egotism and impu- dence, or perhaps great daring and enthusiasm. Prestige counts for a great deal in leadership, based on sympathy, not on force alone. Platt cites Caesar, Charlemagne, Gustavus Adolphus, Cromwell, Frederick the Great, and Napoleon as leaders who gained headship through person- ality ; while Louis XIV and Charles V gained it by pomp. Prestige is power to determine suggestion, and suggestion aided by sympathy makes men do things.2 Ellwood places more stress on the capacity and training of the leader to direct the policy of the group, to carry out its judgment, its will; also knowledge in handling men to persuade them to cooperate, coordinate their activities. The success of enforcing a new policy or of building up a new institution will then depend upon the type of leader chosen. Hence Emerson's remark: "An institution is the lengthened shadow of a great man." The social situation may, however, have far more to do with creating the new habit or institution than the great man. The leader is, of course, indispensable in consciously directed social changes and movements; the better fitted he is for his task, the greater capacity he has, the better the chance of social achievement. "When the conditions for rational judg- ment are kept the best possible, by the free change of ideas, there is the best chance for the selection of the fittest men for social leadership; but beyond this, it is evident that the society that wishes competent leaders must find means of training them and selecting them in advance, as it were, before the situation arises in which their leadership will be needed. There is probably no lack of competent individ- 2 See op. cit., p. 137; also Chaps. VIII, IX. 596 Social Organization uals in every civilized society with ample natural endowr- ments for leadership. In such societies the higher insti- tutions of learning are supposed to find and train social leaders, but they often perform their tasks in this re- spect along many lines of social action, in a comparatively inefficient manner. This is a matter of the utmost prac- tical importance, because with expert leadership the capacity of civilized peoples for social progress might be increased almost indefinitely. ' ' 3 As social groups are always in continuous reaction with their leaders, whatever power is entrusted to the leader is more or less limited by the reaction of his group. Occa- sionally a leader is given absolute power, but the most socially fortunate condition exists when the leader is closely coordinated with the group. If there is constant action and reaction between the leader and the group, the out- come may be truly representative of the group's judgment and will. In despotic leadership the outcome is, of course, not representative. The democratic method of selecting social leaders here shows its superiority. Dictatorship.-It is not difficult to see why, in revolu- tionary periods, the dictator should come into power. With the passing of the old order there is, of course, hope of reconstruction, but the masses may not see which way to turn. There is a tendency in some quarters to revert 1o the old habits, since the revolution is not absolute. New social habits must be erected upon the basis of the old, but some one must take the initiative. A Kerensky may appear, and if he has the constancy of character required may dominate the people during the transition period. But Kerensky's dictatorship in Russia was shortlived, and then came Lenin and Trotsky, not leaders chosen by the people, but leaders with sufficient power to try out a pro- gram during a juncture when the masses were unable to exercise selective power. Propaganda unfriendly to so- vietism sought to make the public in English-speaking countries believe that the new leadership would be short- lived, because of the fallacies of the social program. But 3 Op. cit., p. 159. Leadership and the Masses 597 the years passed and the leaders did not fall. The infer- ence was that Lenin and Trotsky must be men of greater power than the press would have us believe, men suffi- ciently resourceful to vary the social experiment from time to time, lest the masses should revolt again. The people were adapted in their habits to the old order, and collective changes in habits and the throwing off of dictatorship without new leaders of great power are difficult matters. A minority may initiate and establish a different social order while the majority are passing through changes that follow upon a revolution. The masses do not suddenly throw off tyranny and become free. Dictators win the majority in part at least for the time being by promising to establish the rule of the people in which all shall be free. Time is required for the people to grasp the social program which the dictator holds more or less in abeyance, that he may introduce radical changes gradually, as in Russia where, after a few years, even the religion of the people was attacked by the removal of ecclesiastical leaders. Intellectual Leadership.-Social psychologists who em- phasize the instincts and emotions have little to say about intellectual leadership. Ellwood directs attention to its necessity in effecting any complex social change, since it is only the exceptional individual mind which is capable of producing socially valuable ideas.4 Such an individual may owe his superiority in part to biological variations in the direction of a superior brain, for genius undoubtedly has its biological side. Yet the exceptional individual also receives training from his early environment. Genius and ability always have their receptive as well as their active sides. The great man is usually the focusing point of many men, sometimes of nearly all the tendencies in his age and nation. A man's greatness is likely to be in his ability to sum up in his own personality the striking tendencies of his time, and his ideas are often as much social products as products of his own mental processes. Yet it is the men of intellectual ability who first produce 4 Ibid., p. 217. 598 Social Organization the standards or values by which complex social adjust- ments are made; these standards and values are then copied by the masses and generalized. It is the pattern or model which is furnished by the superior individual who is able to think ahead. Although imitation is plainly at work, mediation by means of intellectual processes also takes place. The intellectual leader whose ideas are to be socially fruitful keeps in close touch with his group, and his ideas must be adapted to group life; and only those ideas and inventions are assimilated in the given age which are adapted to that age or stage of social evolution. Hence in a measure even the intellectual leader is socially selected, and it is social selection which eventually determines the men who shall be accepted as the intellectual leaders of the time. Ellwood also directs attention to the fact that intellectual ability has the power to mislead human groups as well as to lead them aright. The ideas of the intellectual leader may not literally be imposed upon the group; but through the influence of superstition, ignorance, excitement or lack of social freedom, wrong intellectual leaders may be se- lected, wrong ideas or standards accepted. Even highly civilized societies have been known to accept ideas so rever- sionary as to lead back toward barbarism. Hence the social value of the ideas of leaders can only be determined by testing them in actual social life. When all social ideas and ideals are adequately tested by comparison with his- torical facts, society will be saved much bad leadership. Hence the need of organization in social groups so that there shall be wise selection and control. The significance of Ellwood's view lies in the confirmation which it gives to the time-honored view that the intellect is after all active in social progress. This conclusion is needed to correct the strong emphasis placed by other social psychologists on habit and instinct, or behavior patterns. The other factors are sometimes too strongly dwelt on by writers who are still in the throes of reaction against the old intellectu- alism, and have not yet found their bearings in relation to the new. Therefore they dwell chiefly on the instinctive Leadership and the Masses 599 beginnings and the resultant dispositions or habits, to the neglect of the higher factors of social evolution. Reason is the universal relating activity of the human mind, the power which tends to bring the data into agreement, unity, and harmonious relationships. The hope of humanity is above all in an intellectual development which is in accord with social needs. Assemblies.-When we consider the masses in relation to leadership looking forward to intellectual supremacy, we find some difficulty in deciding just who the "masses" are, for writers, teachers and editors too easily generalize ac- cording to their point of view; we often assume knowledge of the wray the masses will vote when a presidential election approaches, then discover that the masses have reacted in a manner not by any means predicted by the makers of public opinion. It is difficult, in other words, to discern the pseudo-environment in which the masses are just then moving. But when we turn from the mere crowTd or caucus to the assembly we leave the region of the less certain dispositions and tendencies; and readily describe the assembly as a group of people in which ideas rather than emotions are struggling with one another for su- premacy ; it is characterized by dignity, order, and thought- fulness, and is controlled by cultural habits, by parliamen- tary rules of order. These rules tend to inhibit swaying emotions, prevent excitement, and give each person oppor- tunity to speak under the guidance of reason. Each person has a vote, and so the democratic principle is recognized. There is chosen leadership, and great opportunity for the kind of leadership which encourages fullest expression of opinion guided by principles of justice, dispassionate judg- ment. A chairman has exceptional opportunities to en- courage what appears to be "the spirit of the meeting," so that all essential points shall be heard, with due regard for the main interests of the occasion. If he knows human nature well, he will understand why it is that some indi- viduals need to talk to free their systems; why it is advis- able to give the conservatives who oppose all progress a chance to speak, while remembering that some liberals who 600 Social Organization are most capable of taking the lead in favor of progress may need encouragement to take the floor. Mass Meeting's.-The mass meeting is more self-con- trolled than the crowd. It is called for a purpose, for example, to protest against a single issue or measure, some stand taken by one or more governments of the world. It is more likely to involve expressions of emotion than an assembly, but may imply very high standards. The protest may, for instance, be against the alleged "imperialism" of the nation in acquiring possessions, such as the Philip- pines, and maintaining order by force of arms; since some may see only an aggressive policy in such activities. In earlier days, the mass meeting may have been called to protest against slavery, and the impassioned, outspoken anti-slavery leader was likely to turn the mass meeting into a crowd. As we go back in history, before the present reaction against certain moral standards took place, we find men speaking out with greater courage, whatever might result, and so subjecting themselves to possible vio- lence from a mob waiting outside the hall. Crowd Action.-Bogardus divides crowds into hetero- geneous and homogeneous.5 The latter must have a leader, and it moves frantically until it gains one. It is noticeable that people act far less rationally when under the influence of a crowd, act quickly, but think slowly. For instance, while a crowd may assemble in the interest of an important public issue, it is little likely to tolerate freedom of speech; and if any one assails the crowd because of its follies, he is hooted down and compelled to leave. The crowd, as in the case of a strike, with its sympathizers, gathers wTith an objective, if not a purpose, in view; it tolerates speakers who favor that interest, but is quick to spring upon the man who ventures to reason on the other side. Such a crowd is potentially a mob, but refuses to be changed into an assembly. When there are strikers and strike-breakers, each group must have its meetings, vent its feelings apart from the other, and decide on the course of action to be pursued. The crowd of onlookers, watching pickets parade 5 Op. cit., Chap. XI. Leadership and the Masses 601 up and down the street before a factory., is ready to break into a mob if pickets and strike-breakers clash even in a small way. During a telephone strike in Boston, in 1923, the striking girls reached the limit of emotional endurance when two colored girls arrived on the scene in a taxicab, to replace strikers; then a clash resulted, an ambiguous clash, which the authorities were unwilling to characterize as a riot. Again, there is the two-spectator crowd on the foot- ball field, with its exercise of restraint so far as jeering is concerned, its bursts of enthusiasm or encouragement, and finally the unbounded joy which breaks forth from the side of the victors. Crowd Problems.-In the milder sense, the youth of both sexes in a large school, notably a city high-school, constitute a crow'd; since it is not individual leadership that tells, and not any single influence, such as convention- ality, fashion, tradition, that controls. There are successive distractions, due to the series of sports in fall, winter and spring; social club activities, social engagements, automo- bile parties, dances, the movies, and other interests, over against the work of the school, so that it is difficult to get a fair amount of work done when these engagements are most numerous. The prevailing motives are expressions of gregariousness in its various forms, coupled in our day with greater love of pleasure, and less regulation on the part of parents. It is easy to condemn young people for lack of interest in their studies. But these judgments are usually expressions of the older psychology. The instincts, emotions, and desires are strong and vigorous among young people; while intellectual interests are not great, except in case of unusual ability. Under freer social conditions the larger nature of youth is finding freer expression than in the days when our present intellectual system was de- veloped. The love of pleasure tends to confirm the psycho- analyst's contention that desire is the fundamental driving force beneath our various abilities. Young people instinctively respond to their native de- sires, particularly in the period when the emotions are coming into power, without knowing why they take only 602 Social Organization secondary interest in intellectual matters. All they know is that they like a boy or girl who has "pep," they dislike a "grind," a shy or repressed person, also the teacher who is '1 dry, ' ' the trustee who has forgotten what it means to be young. It is difficult not only to arouse intellectual interests but to foster cooperation in the maturer sense in which parents plead for it who are trying to rear their children to be thoughtful, sympathetic, responsive. At the same time these young people are learning cooperation in their own way through participation in dramatics and sports, wherever team-play and concentration are required. The observable fact, from a teacher's point of view, is the dominance of the crowd spirit among youth. The young person is far more likely to be ruled by a new mode of dress or way of doing the hair than an adult, who may feel that he is little observed in the general crowd if wearing a suit or a hat that is out of date. Youth has the courage to protest against the rule of its elders in general, but is under the dominance of the latest fashion in dress, the latest dance, the slang that reacts against older forms of speech. Conflicting Interests.-Then youth passes into the col- lege period, enters a larger crowd which divides and sub- divides, and new dominion exercises its sway. In the large university, as in the great city, one may be in a measure lost in the crowd. Yet the university as a whole constitutes a group on certain great occasions, athletic and intellectual, with strong loyalties. Aristocrats, students from the same state studying the same subjects, or working their way through college, gather into groups; and the serious-minded student finds himself among congenial associates, no longer frowned upon as a grind. There is still a struggle however to get work done, amidst an endless series of distractions which begin with the opening of the football season. The college teacher has abundant opportunity to apportion stu- dent activities according to a sound psychology, assigning leadership to the intellect without too greatly insisting upon it. The instruction he gives is plainly a part only of what is now called education, as development of the whole indi- Leadership and the Masses 603 vidual. He must constantly endeavor to outwit distracting tendencies, the habit of procrastination, the encroachment of pleasure, the keeping of late hours, the interruptions due to vacations, the habit of cramming; but always with due regard to the fact that mental life is dynamic, as the psychoanalysts assure us, is a complex stream of desires which tend to seek gratification, while the intellect awakens later. The intellect tends to introduce system, order; it protests against the crowd spirit, the interruptions which threaten to defeat the whole end of intellectual pursuits. But the intellect is rightfully an assimilating, criticizing, organizing power; it comes into expression after a time, and with some students fails to take the lead until work in the graduate schools begins. The brilliant intellectual student who is prominent in college from the first, may not be as productive in the world as one who matures more slowly, responds in reasonable degree to the crowd spirit, and graduates creditably without attracting attention to himself. The Rule of Reason.-The aim of the higher education may be said to be the dominion of reason in the world. But reason must be well founded, it must take human nature into full account, consider all the elements to be organized. These are coming into fuller expression during the college years. The individual who has gone to college with his vocation decided upon may change several times, as different sides of his nature are appealed to during the four years. In finding himself, he is finding human nature. If there is always a contest between interests and activities, so that it is difficult to do the required amount of work, this intrusion of the crowd spirit is similar to the intrusions of later life. In a university atmosphere one is cut off in a way from the world, but the whole world is represented, intellectually at least; and one of the great lessons to be learned from history is the sway of the crowd spirit. It is well that the intellect should try its utmost to dominate and win as many young minds to its cause as possible; for it is difficult enough in the world which the graduate must presently enter to foster the age of reason. When 604 Social Organization the last word has been uttered in favor of responding to the crowd spirit, on the ground that it is closer to our instinctive, emotional life, it is still the life of reason which is eligible, which is to assimilate and represent all other phases of life. Hazing, outbreaks of excessive jollification, and "pranks" have been more frowned on during recent years in the larger institutions, and higher standards have been substituted. The emotions which would once have broken free in protest against some action on the part of trustees or faculty may now find more intellectual expres- sion. Thus reason comes into its own. The Academic Mind.-Men who have not participated in the higher education are fond of disparaging the "aca- demic mind, " as if it were an artificial mind, apart. Thus Edison, skilled in his special field but not necessarily a philosopher, has applied information tests rather than in- telligence tests to college graduates, and discounted the results; and Henry Ford has conspicuously objected to history and other subjects taught in colleges. But the academically trained person is best known for the method he has gained, the power he has at his disposal; and the information test is not designed to disclose that. The limited specialist fails to appreciate the point of view which is interested in science as developed by cooperation of great numbers of specialists. Rivalry is sometimes the motive of judgments expressed by critics who have not had the intellectual training which they needed. Others generalize as if individuals acquiring the academic mind were mostly alike. Formal interests disparaged as "academic," as if the college professor lived in a remote world of thought, are one group only among many in a university, and amidst all these groups the young mind is finding itself. The devotee of science, culture, beauty, as an end in itself must in a measure pit himself against the crowd spirit of the com- mercial world, lest education should become purely "prac- tical," cease to be intellectual in the best sense of the word. The further one enters the academic world, the less one is subject to any crowd spirit, the more individual one be- Leadership and the Masses 605 comes. This process of growth is difficult in endowed institutions where there is lack of freedom in regard to economics. The sociologist should be perfectly free to develop his science to the full, without surrender to class consciousness tending to curb education in behalf of com- mercial interests. He is concerned with the movement of all social groups, capitalistic, laborite, radical, conservative, militaristic, and the rest. Social psychology must concern itself with the motives actuating all groups, noting the fact that people are still on instinctive, emotional levels, subject to suggestion, likely to revert to the animal mind, yield to mob rule. The partisan of merely practical life, the laborite or radical resents the intrusion of the man who proposes to investigate the whole human situation; he dislikes the man who is not on his side, can not understand why any one should wish to be dispassionate or judicial. This resent- ment is especially seen in a crowd called together through class consciousness, protesting against the rule of "indus- trial jingoes," not in the least interested in bringing labor and capital together; and likely to become a mob if any one dares to express a point of view unfavorable to what labor demagogues call "labor." The academic mind is supposed to be farthest removed from appreciation of the plain man's struggles. To the plain man there is as yet no such thing as a science of human nature, impartial, wholly free. One is supposed to take sides. A movement like Taylor's system of scientific management is of course a new scheme '1 for the exploitation of labor. ' ' To find out what it pretends to be, one may indeed read what Taylor says. But to find out what it really is, one must consult its "victims," or read a criticism of it by a member of a labor union.6 There is supposed to be no such thing as a scientific statement of such management from a purely psychological point of view. A work like McDougall's Social Psychology would be discounted by a participant in modern labor conflicts, because it passes by the question of conflicts and endlessly confines itself to instincts and emotions. 6 Cf. American Labor Unions, by Helen Marot, 1914, Chap. XVIII. 606 Social Organization Congregations.-We find the same phenomena of the crowd spirit in congregations. The religious gathering is not likely to become a mob, not even when a representative of the Ku Klux Klan comes in, or when a radical burns the American flag with a mass of flags of the nations to proclaim his freedom from the nations. But as a " revival ' ' it may set emotions free so that peculiar outbursts are frequent, sentimental imitativeness holds sway, and reason in all forms is discounted. The emotional revival is perhaps the best exemplification we have of social suggestion run- ning through the whole gamut of its reactions, fostered as it is by fear, by the spectacular, the magnetic appeal, and in its opposition to intelligence. Its power has waned with decline of belief in the old orthodoxy, with knowledge of the baneful effects of intense emotion on the nervous system and health; and lack of interest in less intelli- gent speakers, dependent on sensational methods and slang. Instead, propaganda against evolution and the criticism of the Bible has taken its place. Fear of hell was once a powerful motive in stirring congregations. The assembly was worked up to an ap- propriate point emotionally, by the aid of music and prayer; then came the emotional appeal to be saved. The candidate was won by emotion. He was encouraged by the testimony of others who had been emotionally converted. To the onlooker, lacking in psychological knowledge, it seemed strange indeed that the candidate could accept an irrational theology. But the theology was emotionally adopted, not reasoned out. Liberals have found it difficult to appeal to a congregation emotionally, so far as the idea of hell has waned; with the extension of the idea of salvation to cover all souls, here or hereafter. The emotional appeal to charity in behalf of the unfortunate here and now can only gradu- ally be substituted for the old-time salvationism with its appeal to the individual to be saved in behalf of his own interests only. Nevertheless an emotional appeal to be saved may result in a sublimation of emotions of permanent value to the man or woman who is "rescued" from the slums. Psychologically the process of conversion can be Leadership and the Masses 607 impartially described, apart from the special creed said to be "proved" true by it.7 Hence, as we shall see more at length in another chapter, the psychology of religion has an important contribution to make. From the theologian's point of view, it seems perfectly justifiable to make a religious meeting highly emotional, with a view to converting young people between the ages of fifteen and eighteen; since, as he is likely to maintain, if a boy or girl is not converted then the opportunity may be lost once for all. Yet from a genetic point of view there is serious objection, since the intellectual nature may not be sufficiently awakened; there may be no appeal to knowl- edge, none to intelligence, but merely an arousing of emo- tions which do not represent a person's whole nature. Later, intelligence may combine with emotion, and a more perma- nent form of religion may result. But the young man or woman who then becomes religious may not join an organi- zation, may be given over to good works rather than to theology; and this is objectionable to partisans of churches. The missionary is as little interested in all-round develop- ment of mental life as the laborite in social psychology. Religious emotions are apt to be intensely personal and partisan. The objections raised, for instance, to evolution, are not proposed on rational grounds, do not spring from knowledge of science: they are emotional objections. For the sake of the Church, one is supposed to refrain from scientific investigation. If a young person were to inquire into the teachings of the various churches, to decide which church to join, the process would require too long a time, the golden opportunity would pass; a person is not ex- pected to be thorough in investigating the most vitally significant beliefs; thoroughness is for less important mat- ters, such as economics, history, chemistry. The emotional leader of a congregation claims the right to arouse people to emotional decisions. The service is calculated to make its appeal to suggestion. Cults.-Social groups known as cults are ordinarily 7 See, for example, Harold Begbie's Twice Born Men, 1909; Souls in Action, 1911; More Twice Born Men, 1923. 608 Social Organization brought together by some secondary interest, fad, craze, or half-truth which holds sway for a time or has been handed down from a less critical past. Thus the theory of rein- carnation, with its doctrine of "karpia," and its way of accounting for social inequalities, becomes the central idea in a cult. Healing cults in our day turn upon various practical teachings and methods centering about suggestion, the subconscious mind, and the psychology of success, with curious admixtures of religious belief: their prevailing faults are explained by their uncritical theory of the human mind, eulogized and set apart, as if it were not grounded in bodily relations; the exaltation of the subjective indi- vidual, cut off from heredity and his social environment, and given over to vague meditation and affirmationism; and the adoption of mystical or fanciful interpretations of Scripture. Other cults are devoted to vegetarianism, single- tax, anti-vivisection, and similar reforms which have not yet won general recognition. The cult may have its direct contribution to make, after its tenets have been subjected to criticism; or it may pass as a mere fad. Again, it exerts an indirect influence, and is met by a scientific movement which undertakes to do well what the cult has failed to do through lack of psychology, as in the case of psycho- therapy, which begins by building well on psycho-physical fact, although it lacks inspiration. Special groups cease to function, notably in the case of the woman-suffrage move- ment, when the particular reform is carried into effect : such a movement is opposed as a craze or fad, till publicly recognized, then its critics begin to see it in the light of constructive history. Prohibition was long a distinctive movement, with its insistent propaganda, which might have been successful had it taken a more scientific turn. Parlor Bolshevism is the term recently applied to groups which espouse eulogized sovietism by way of fostering a certain type of socialist propaganda. Values.-As the public becomes enlightened concerning assemblies, audiences and congregations, it rejects matters which are no longer eligible, such as the emotional devices of the old-time revival, but conserves the values under Leadership and the Masses 609 other forms. Religion does not cease to be when it is relegated by critics to the childhood of the race. Idealized tradition is preferred to sophistication, with its dull prose, its negative attitude. Meanwhile, the leader has no more excuse for keeping the people in outgrown values than the editor of the yellow journal for indulging in sensationalism on the ground that it is "what the public wants." Amen- ability to suggestion may not be a sign of weakness in the race, but interest lies on the whole in finding the way out of it into rationalism. There is no good reason in these days for fostering emotionalism. The leader who has some- thing to give an audience will not depend on an emotional appeal. Orators stormed and blustered, pounded the desk, and appealed to the galleries, when they had less to say than Wendell Phillips, for example, who had a great cause to promote in Faneuil Hall and could well afford to be calm and controlled in promoting it. It is noticeable that a crowd is more impatient of interference on the part of some one who has another point of view to present, to the extent that the crowd is not rationally sure of itself. As- sertion takes the place of reason, when there is little reason- ing done. When a speaker is not sure of his ground, he appeals to other incentives. Lacking sound arguments for religion, he must resort to threatening people with the fear of hell and its torments. Orthodoxy of this type has the value of concentration. So too the believer at rest in his simple unquestioned faith has the advantage of directness of belief. Summary.-With the study of leadership in its higher forms we turn from the fictitious universes of discourse and the pseudo-environments of cruder types of thought, and enter the realm of values or ideals. A value moves in a mental universe of its own, and it may be as remote from brute fact as a pseudo-environment. Each of us has his world of values. There are as many ideals as individuals. Nevertheless, with the coming in of rational systems and moral purposes a realm of values takes on a different charac- ter from that of the worlds of thought created by propa- gandism, that which passes as news, or is accepted during a 610 Social Organization political campaign. The assembly or congregation differs from a crowd by its rules, its organization, its atmosphere. Leaders have remarkable power through their formulation of the higher interests of the people. The intellect comes to its own after a time. Reason unifies, introduces system, order, where before there was a confusion of tongues. We should not judge by instincts, emotions, desires, or dis- positions, simply, despite the fact that in origin and content they occupy so large a place. Values supervene on the commonplace. Ideal associations gather about tradition. In the educational world intellectual motives take hold after a time, despite the intrusions of the crowd spirit. It is desirable to cultivate a certain remoteness in inquiring into the elements of which society consists, even at the risk of being charged with the academic mind. Intellectual inter- ests lift our inquiry from mere analysis of one factor or influence after another to the level of social organization and control, to a study of purposes as expressed in great systems of thought. REFERENCES Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, pp. 158, foil., 177, 217. Platt, C., Psychology of Social Life, p. 137; Chaps. VIII, IX. Bogardus, E. S., Essentials of Social Psychology, Chap. XI. Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, Chap. XXII. Sully, J., Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chap. XX. CHAPTER XXXVIII PLAY AND EDUCATION Special recognition has been given to the phenomena of play since the days of Froebel and his philosophy of educa- tion, as set forth in The Education of Man, 1826, and the well-known interpretation put upon play by Groos. In contrast with work, which is pursued in routine way, under specific conditions, with a definite end in view, or under the regulation of a manager; play gives spontaneous expres- sion to individuality in light and pleasant ways, through whims and caprices, and immediate gratification which brings rest from work, relaxation from discipline, and restores the feeling of self. Hence play has been described as the method which the individual takes in preserving himself and his freedom (Horne). It protects the indi- vidual from the loss of himself in his labor, keeps the springs of personal being ever fresh and flowing. Thus a holiday reveals and gratifies a man's interests as a working day seldom does. The man who can not play has worked too long without recreation or change, and is no longer master of his work; or he has allowed himself to become a creature of habit to such a degree that his energies never flow freely, he is over-serious, no longer successful. Theory of Play.-According to the surplus energy the- ory, play is a vent for superfluous vitality, as in the case of children, who play when they need no recreation, when- ever the restraints of home and school are taken off, at any hour of the day, or in any place. In sports and athletics the exuberant animal spirits are drawn off. Both children and adults play however when they have no super- fluous energy. Different kinds of animals instinctively have different kinds of play. The recreation theory of 611 612 Social Organization Lazarus is that play is for the relaxation and recreation of exhausted powers, a theory which is obviously true in part. The practice theory maintained by Groos and Bald- win holds that play is preparatory to the tasks of life. According to Groos opportunity is given the child in play to exercise inborn dispositions, to strengthen and increase inheritance in the acquisition of adaptations to environ- ment, an achievement which would be impossible by mere mechanical instinct alone. Youth is distinctively the period of play, the time for developing crude powers and making ready for life's activities and purposes. Baldwin holds that play is a most important form of organic exercise, a method of realization of social interests, of experimental verification of the benefits and pleasures of united action; it gives flexibility of mind and body, with self-control; gives a child constant opportunity for imitative learning and invention.1 The social aspect of invention is also well recognized in the games of childhood. The main education of early life comes to the child through play. As it is nature's schooling, it should be supplemented, not inter- fered with by man's schooling. Play has also been said to explain art. Groos calls artistic enjoyment the highest and most valuable form of adult play. Psychological Basis.-Warren describes play as an in- nate tendency to perform acts not directly concerned with bodily or mental welfare, as an outlet for nervous energy, partly imitative, but with a distinctive character of its own, spontaneous and social.2 Woodworth points out that any instinct has "play value" in contrast with survival value, and that in some instincts the play value is more marked, so that they may be called the play instincts.3 Thus the well-reared baby kicks and throws its arms about, the activity has no result of consequence, the movements taken singly are not coordinated, and they produce no definite change. This random activity decreases as the child grows older and inertia enters in, that is, for economy 1 Social and Ethical Interpretations, 4th ed., p. 148. 2 Elements of Human Psychology, p. 242. 3 Psychology, pp. 151, 485. Play and Education 613 of effort, activity directed toward a goal. Free imagina- tion obviously enters in as a factor. The child's play may be regarded as the first and simplest case of free invention. There is plainly no single play instinct which furnishes all the satisfaction. Every native and acquired source of satisfaction is tapped in one play or another. In games that imitate fighting some of the joy of fighting is experi- enced. In those that imitate pursuit and escape, the joys of hunting enter in. Dancing gives expression to joy and motor activity, while love of social activity also enters. The self-assertive or masterful tendency may be said to enter most frequently. Competition is utilized in a great number of games and sports. Sully notes the quasi-volun- tary elements, the modification by intelligence, as distin- guishing the play which is typical of the human species; images are made definite by play, and as the ideas become clearer they pass into action, and orderly trains of ideas correlated with suitable movements are established.4 McDougall takes exception to Groos's theory that play is essentially the exercise of instinctive modes of action, for the sake of development and improvement of skill in move- ment. Youth is essentially the period of accumulation of experiences before the instincts are mature. There is no special instinct which impels to a kind of exercise and modifies the behavior proper to each instinct. If only young animals played, we might suppose that the several instincts which find expression in play are completely de- veloped. The circumstances which evoke the impulse and emotions of the combative instinct are lacking in the play of animals; the animals are merely exercising their various motor mechanisms in turn under the guidance of sense- organs, and finding play in so doing. Play appears then to be activity for its own sake, striving toward no goal, expressing surplus energy. School-boys, after growing more and more fidgety, spring out into the play-ground, playing aimlessly, and independently of any exciting objects. Hence McDougall holds that play is due to the primal vital energy which does not flow in the chan- * Teacher's Handbook, p. 490. 614 Social Organization nels of instinct, but rather overflowing and generating a Vague appetite for movement and "finding out" through various motor mechanisms.5 Play and Behavior.-From a behaviorist point of view, play is an incomplete act given in response to an incomplete situation (Smith and Guthrie). Thus a child's doll-house lacks stairways, plumbing, and many necessary parts of a real house. Children sit on a rug and say, ' ' Let's play this is a boat. ' ' In contrast with play-fighting, a richer situation with more intense stimuli would have resulted in real fight- ing or flight. Play is characterized then by low stimulus thresholds, the absence of inhibitory and facilitating effects of more distinct or remote situations, and a disregard for incongruities. Hence the play is detached, irresponsible, care-free; whereas work is controlled by remote situations. There are many movements not found in practical life, for example, in the talking which is part of make-believe be- havior. Consummatory responses are never successfully expressed. Tea is taken from empty cups, the slaughtered enemy is soon back in the fight, kissing games are regulated by adult chaperones. In dancing and boxing, and hide- and-seek the complete response is absorbed. It is plain from all these considerations that play is not due to a specific instinct, but is dependent on learning, fixation of habits, and the organization of responses.6 While we agree then that play is not due to a specific instinct, we may, with Colvin and Bagley, describe it as a type of instinctive behavior, "a series of more or less re- lated activities that are performed quite spontaneously, and for no other reason than the mere satisfaction that these activities yield.7 Play differs from work, not in the obstacles surmounted, nor in the amount of energy ex- pended, but in the spirit in which it is done." Some plays represent impulses necessary to the training of the young under primitive conditions, but which must be considered as survivals, for example, teasing, bullying, and fighting, 5 See Outline of Psychology, p. 170, foil.; Social Psychology, p 110, foil. 6 General Psychology, p. 148. 7 Human Behavior, p. 40. Play and Education 615 which are survivals of the brute stage of life (Hall). Such plays are troublesome, but must be reckoned with. By giving vent in play to these savage impulses the child frees himself from them in a relatively harmless manner. We may in brief then refer to the tendency to play (McDougall) as the most convenient way of indicating that play belongs with native behavior, yet is not traceable to an instinct of play. The surplus energy theory does not account for all the facts. The recapitulation theory claims too much, by its assumption that childhood passes through the successive epochs of human history. Groos's theory is inadequate because the motives of play are too various and complex to be summarized by a brief formula. The impulse of rivalry is a motive. Habit is a factor. The element of emotional substitution is seen in the case of games and sports which take the place of war. Platt ex- presses the opinion that we in the United States held off from entering the World War partly because we have learned to play and did not need the relaxation. Base- ball and foot-ball, tennis, rowing, golf, hunting, dancing, have managed to satisfy most of our primitive propensi- ties. Even our business and politics are rather games for us than labor. We have distributed the force of the wild stream of instincts into a multitude of channels. Play means good fellowship and good nature. It is the happiest of outlets for men's egoistic tendencies, and it leads to much the same virtues as war; it leads to team-work, and the appreciation of leadership, to a unifying of the group, and it reaches these without tears. Games.-A game is not pure play, but it stands midway between play and work, and approximates to work in so far as it is dominated and sustained by purpose (McDougall). The competitive motive is plainly the chief incentive. We play games to win, we choose the sports which evoke other motives and enlist more energy. Our competitive behavior may be attributed to the instinct of display of self-asser- tion; competition is an effort to assert our superiority to others. Horne emphasizes the service of play in school in socializing the individual, developing disinterestedness 616 Social Organization through the performance of something for its own sake, and cultivating the moral personality in games that may be played with fairness. The development of self-activity through supervised play should lead to more and more serviceable conduct. In gymnastics and athletics play is given conscious direction which leads to desirable develop- ment, despite the objections that in modern athletics exer- cise is provided only for the few while the many are spec- tators merely; that the idea of amusement is carried to excess; that scholarship is discouraged; and that moral life is disturbed. Athletic contests develop physical strength, force, power, agility, dexterity, ease, grace, swiftness; de- sirable intellectual qualities, such as quickness, alertness, self-knowledge, and the ability to think in crises, also moral qualities of self-control, self-reliance, force, endurance, courage, the sense of the value of training, the discipline of defeat, the sense of the value of concerted action, "nerve," practicality and will-power. Play occupies the mind with sensations and movements, while gymnastics support the idea of all-round development, the foundations of which are laid in the elementary school. In athletics the student specializes physically, learns particular aptitudes. Later Values.-The values of gymnastics in business life and the professions are obvious. It was said that a chief reason why American volunteers and drafted men were so readily trained for army service, and very quickly became excellent soldiers, as their fighting at the front showed, lay in the fact that large numbers of the men had played base-ball or foot-ball, or in some way participated in sports and athletics. The soldiers in France with whom they were in competition had not enjoyed equivalent bene- fits, but had been trained for war only, or in the industries, in rural occupations. Athletic training gave our men alert- ness, system, team-play experience, vigor in achieving an end. The result appeared to indicate considerable progress made in acquiring ' ' the moral equivalent for war. ' ' Play and the Industries.-It has been said that the mod- ern industrial system has left little or no time for play. The tendency in recent years has been to shorter hours, to Play and Education 617 improve the conditions of labor so that time for play would result. Children born and brought up under bad housing conditions in towns and cities, without opportunities for play through contact with nature, have been impeded in their development. An objection to child-labor always has been that children grow up without the free life of play. The individual who is over-weary, who grows old before his time, suffers accordingly through loss of physical de- velopment and the play spirit. In an attitude of antago- nism toward the conditions of labor, a person is in no state to benefit by play. The amusements sought by working people, because cheap theaters are at hand, are by no means substitutes for play and sport. Energy which might have been expressed in productive games is often spent in gambling and other undesirable ways. The attraction of games of chance and certain kinds of amusement is said to be due to the fact that they appeal to primitive instincts, in the same way as the romantic novel, the detective story, the sensational drama, and stories in yellow journals, hence the low moral level of certain forms of amusement, and the desirability of a mode of life which shall furnish oppor- tunities for beneficial play. The tendency to play is not necessarily elevating, it draws incentives from the environ- ment, the social group in which the individual lives. Edu- cators lay great stress on the need for supervision of play, and the development of play into desirable games and sports. If life affords no superabundant energy, one of the reasons for play is lost. A philosophy of play is necessary if play shall occupy the best possible place in the life of the community. Its place is not at all understood by people of moderate intelligence, by parents who give no time or thought to the activities of their children in hours of idle- ness, when the only resource is to go out into the street wuth the crowd. Parents who have grown up without play in the better sense of the word are little likely to appreciate its value, or consciously to care for any recreation save that which passes as pleasure. But instinctively every normal in- dividual may be said to feel an impulse which should have expressed itself in play, later in games and sports. The 618 Social Organization providing of play-grounds in the slums is one step only toward the solution of the problem. It is a question of psychological recognition of the tendencies which seek ex- pression, which may feed upon anything at hand if denied desirable outlets. Amusements.-Many psychological inferences may be drawn from the behavior of people in seeking recreation and pleasure. Many expeditions to the country are more exhausting than ordinary work, and their only value is in the contrast or change which they bring. The coming in of a new invention, the automobile, with its "joy-rides," involves numerous social changes, such as dispensing with chaperones, later hours, and increase of the care-free spirit. The moving-picture play involves yet other effects, with its realism, its appeal to the emotions without much at- tempt at interpretation, and the opportunity it affords for absorption in "something to look at," when life is burden- some, when there is time to waste, or when one ought to be meeting life's problems. The amusements which the average worker seeks indicate that he knows little about the nature and value of play. Since the war, the love of pleasure appears to have increased, and to have taken the place of reflection on the lessons of the war. Pleasure- seeking easily accentuates egoism, and tends to confirm people in the ancient assumption that pleasure is the only fhing we desire. Time rapidly passes, and leaves nothing to show for it. But supervised play, leading to gymnastics and athletics, may make a real contribution to the life of the community. Spontaneity.-The interpretation of play indicated above suggests that if we understood the tendency to play, namely, its relation to surplus energy and spontaneity, we would more commonly connect it with our avocations, our interest in invention, and the constructive instinct in gen- eral. It is possible that many productive developments in human civilization are due to spontaneity. That is, the productive instincts have functioned naturally, man has found himself doing many things simply because it was his nature to do them, not because he was originally self- Play and Education 619 conscious. With the increase of inhibitions, and as work became matter of routine, under adverse conditions, man lost spontaneity, and so has had to acquire a philosophy of play. Meanwhile, there are people who have known how to keep their spontaneity, so that the tendency to play has led naturally to productivity, to invention, to the finding of an avocation to accompany their vocation. Such people seldom yield to mere love of pleasure. Understanding the place of pleasure, and finding satisfaction in their work and in their avocation, they have a complete substitute for pleasure-seeking in general; their recreations bring real relaxation; and play gives contrast that is worth while. Spontaneity may be regarded as a real test of some of the activities that are most worth while. If we find ourselves given over to custom, conventionality, habit-doing what we do because we have done it-the resource might be an endeavor to recover spontaneity, to "return to nature" (a cry which has frequently gone forth in the course of history). The return to nature has sometimes been taken to mean, return to the elemental, the instinctive, the crudely emotional. But it might be understood as a re- covery of the urge or drive which originally sent man forth to produce. If man had kept his spontaneous touch with this productive urge, he might have retained the spirit of play, and taken more joy in his work. People like to "do things together" when the spirit of play enters in, and they disclose native aptitudes, so that division of labor comes about readily. Possibly if man had early learned the meaning of this aspect of his gregariousness, he would have adopted cooperation as his ideal; and he might have found so much satisfaction in this united activity that his egoism would never have developed into selfishness: his self-love might have been in every way contributory. At any rate, we seem to be indebted to play, games and sports for a part of our ideal of team-work or cooperation, and to have found in organized play something better than war. The Psychological Tendency.-The psychological in contrast with the sociological and scientific tendencies in education was a direct outgrowth of the naturalistic tend- 620 Social Organization ency of the eighteenth century; it related chiefly to method, while the others pertained to subject-matter and organization; it was distinguished from artificial pro- cedures by emphasis on education as a natural process of growth from within, an unfolding of capacities planted in our nature, more properly a "development" or organic growth which may be helped or hindered by the methods in which the natural capacities are treated; it sought a reconciliation between the old "education of effort" and the new "education of interest," notably in the case of the theories of Froebel and Herbart. The principles on which education was to be founded were sought in the activity of the mind itself, with special emphasis on knowledge of childhood, recognition of the child's interests and abilities, and with a sympathy for the child unknown before. In the later unification of the three tendencies it was recog- nized that from Froebel came the true conception of the nature of the child; the correct interpretation of the start- ing-point of education in the child's tendency to education; the true interpretation of the curriculum as the repre- sentation to the child of the epitome of the world's experi- ence ; and the first application of the theory of evolution to the problem of education.8 The result of the unification of the various tendencies is seen in the case of a work like Horne's, whose theory is developed wholly in terms of the psychological content, that is, educating the mind to know, to feel, to will, and to ex- press the religious element.9 Every mind is said to build its own world through the process of education, to learn to con- quer its own environment, and thereby to realize its capac- ity ; the principle of self-activity in consciousness is regarded as the root of all knowledge, feeling, and will. Special attention is called to imitation, interest, the motor power of the feelings, effort, habit, and the making of potentiality actual. And so education is defined as "the superior ad- justment of a physically and mentally developed conscious 8 P. Monroe, A Text-book in the His. of Education, 1905, Chaps. XI, XIV. 9 H. H. Horne, The Psychological Principles of Education, 1906. Play and Education 621 human being to his intellectual, emotional, and volitional environment. ' ' The Psychological Contents.-The subject-matter of Home's volume is typical of treatises issued during the last two decades in which the general psychology of the mental elements is first set forth, then the general principles ap- plied with reference to methods of teaching. Thus Horne considers memory and methods of aiding it, imagination, conception, judgment, reasoning, feeling (regarded in the light of its primacy) ; instinct is treated in connection with the will, or moral education, also suggestion, and attention. In special treatises on the learning process, habit-forma- tion, attention, interest, various writers have developed the psychological principles without limit. Hence the psy- chology of education has come to be the equivalent of the theory of education and the starting-point or method has depended on the type of psychology espoused. Habit-formation.-Pyle conceives it to be the purpose of education to train the child for action according to the ideals of the time, that social efficiency may be achieved.10 Psychology shows that education is essentially a process of habit-formation, since adjustment to life is the main con- sideration. Hence education involves the study of mind and body in their relationships; heredity; the instincts, in- dividual, social, environmental, adaptive; play; imitation; habit and moral training; memory; attention; thinking; and fatigue. Heredity, or the likelihood of the same response to the same stimulus, is the fundamental fact. The mech- anism of heredity involves (1) the internal forces of the organism adjusting itself to the forces of environment; and (2) the formation of habits by fixing, and repeating types of response. Social heredity is due to the long period of infancy, and the strength of imitation during early life. Special emphasis belongs on small differences, eugenics, and the elimination of the unfit. Man is definable as a creature of instinct and habit: what is not instinct is in large measure habit. The great and powerful sources of our daily action lie deep in our io W. H. Pyle, Outlines of Educational Psychology, 1911. 622 Social Organization nature: love and hate, fear, jealousy, rivalry, competition and strife; and the instinctive responses characteristic of these, with "a little spark of reason." The individualistic instincts, those arising out of the demands of individual life, such as the responses connected with fear, combat, rivalry, competition, the attaining of food, escaping ene- mies, include the child's tendencies to turn everything to his own good and interpret everything in terms of the self. The social instincts, those arising out of the demands of social life, pertain especially to sympathy and cooperation, that is, the gregarious or gang instinct. The adaptive or developmental instincts include play and imitation; the environmental include collecting, migration, and hibernat- ing tendencies. Since every individual soon becomes a creature of habits, it is the business of education to guide and aid in securing such a system of habite as will serve the best interests of the individual and society. All the moral activities of our mature life have habit as their basis. Habits are specific. A habit is a function, it will function where it will function, and that is the end of its usefulness. Education and Behavior.-In applying his psychology to educational problems, William James brought together the facts of consciousness and the facts of behavior by de- scribing the human being as essentially practical: the mind is given man to aid him in adapting himself to the world's life.11 The chief aim of education is in training the pupil to behavior, the term ''behavior" being taken in the widest sense, including conduct and every sort of fit reaction on the circumstances into which man may find himself brought. Education, in brief, is "the organization of acquired habits of conduct and tendencies to behavior. ' ' Hence James lays down the fundamental principle: "No reception without reaction, no impression without cor- relative expression, ' ' as the great maxim which the teacher ought never to forget. It is the motor .consequences which clinch the reaction. Our education in general thus be- comes a mass of possibilities of reaction, acquired at home, ii Talks to Teachers, 1899. Play and Education 623 at school, or in the training of affairs. To bring about the appropriate reaction, the teacher must very well know the reactive tendencies natively in the pupil. James placed strong emphasis on such native reactions as fear, love, curiosity, imitation, emulation, ambition, pugnacity, pride, ownership, constructiveness; with particular stress on habit. To follow and build on the native reactions is first of all to discern the child's interests and offer him objects which have some immediate connection with these. The right use of attention and memory follows, with a view to wise acquisition of ideas. To move forward to the proper training of the will is to remember that there is no sort of consciousness which does not directly and of itself tend to discharge into some motor effect. Voluntary action is a resultant of the compounding of our impulsions with our inhibitions. Character consists in an organized set of habits of reaction, that is, of tendencies set free when cer- tain ideas possess us, and of tendencies to refrain when other ideas intervene. We act morally by holding fast to an idea by an effort of attention which triumphs despite other tendencies, hence thinking is the secret of willing. Colvin and Bagley start with the proposition that con- sciousness puts in an appearance in human evolution when it is required to aid behavior.12 The service that conscious- ness renders is to adjust the organism to its surroundings: when there is perfect adjustment there is no need of con- sciousness ; but when the organism is not perfectly adjusted consciousness is necessary in securing a better adjustment. Consciousness appears at its maximum in a thought-crisis, a real difficulty, in a new and pressing situation. The new situation makes learning necessary. Consciousness and learning rest in fact on the same necessary conditions. Ability to learn has therefore been taken as the chief evi- dence of the existence of mind. Learning, in brief, signi- fies the modification of the behavior of the organism in the light of experience, that is, through the stages of trial and error, imitation, and the forming of "free ideas," 12 Human Behavior, 1913. 624 Social Organization ideas of procedure. There is an instinctive tendency to imitate, play being a type of instinctive behavior, and curi- osity an aid. An absolutely inattentive state of conscious- ness does not exist, we are merely relatively inattentive; what is attended to is determined by the purposes, the aims, the interests, instinctive desires, etc., which exist in con- sciousness, either dimly or clearly at the given time.13 The fundamental principle of human progress is the ability to hold the attention to that which at present exists only as an aim to be achieved or an ideal to be realized. All compli- cated modes of behavior are conditioned in their effect by sustained attention. Thus these writers succeed in stating the essential facts of behavior in the light of its instinctive basis, the priority of behavior in the organism, without surrendering the prerogatives of consciousness, without ignoring the fact that purposive attention is central and far-reaching. The Learning Process.-By some writers the learning process is said to begin with the promptings of the instinct of curiosity which lead at first to ' ' fumbling and groping, ' ' or learning by trial and error. When this fumbling leads to success, an association is established through a remu- nerative line of conditions. As learning below man does not lead to the transmission of experience, from animal to animal, we note that learning is individual, not cooperative or cumulative. Starting with the fact of behavior, which is secured by constant renewals, Dewey describes the learn- ing process in terms of transmission through communica- tion to secure this renewal.14 Hence education is a process of sharing experience till it becomes a common possession; it is a fostering, nurturing, cultivating process, implying attention to the conditions of growth. The environment consists of those conditions which promote or hinder, stimu- late or inhibit the characteristic attitudes of a living being. The social environment forms the dispositions of behavior of the individual by engaging them in activities which arouse and strengthen certain impulses, that is, the atti- tudes and dispositions necessary to the continuous and pro* 13 Ibid., Chap IV. m Democracy and Education, 1916. Play and Education 625 gressive life of a society. Experience is " trying and under- going. ' '15 When we experience something we act upon it, we do something with it; then we suffer or undergo the consequences: mere activity does not constitute experi- ence. Hence Dewey concludes that experience is primarily an active-passive affair, not primarily cognitive, as was once assumed; the measure of value is found in the per- ception of relationships or continuities to which it leads.16 The prime difficulty with theories of knowing has been that we were supposed to absorb knowledge directly, by a something called mind or consciousness, severed from the physical organs of activity. Mind is then said to be purely cognitive, intellectual; the organs of activity irrelevant and intruding. Hence it was supposed that we perceived without experience, without conjoint trying and under- going. It was assumed that mind could grasp if it only gave attention. But thought or reflection is the discern- ment of the relation between what we try to do and what happens as a result. All thinking involves a risk. The value of knowledge is subordinate to its use. Thinking which is not connected with increase of efficiency in action, and with learning more about our selves and the world in which we live, has something the matter with it.17 Problems.-Starch calls attention to the fact that the problems and scope of education will depend on the .view of education which obtains. If education is regarded as primarily self-development, then the complete training of mental and physical capacities independent of environ- ment is emphasized. But if education is regarded as fun- damental social adaptation, emphasis is put on the train- ing of capacities which will adapt the individual most ade- quately to the social and physical environment. Starch defines education to include the production of useful changes in human beings: in knowledge, in skill, in ideas. The problems then are these: (1) what changes are to be made in human beings? (2) what are the agencies by which the changes may be brought about? (3) what are the capacities which human beings possess for acquiring 15 Ibid., Chap. XII. 16 Ibid., p. 164. it Ibid., p. 179. 626 Social Organization changes? (4) what are the most economical methods by which these changes may be brought about? The discov- ery by exact measurements of the enormous range of ability, and the resulting overlapping of successive grades, is probably the most important single fact discovered with reference to education in the last decade. As a result of this great advance it is possible to analyze the learning process by a precise scheme: I. The psychology of learn- ing in general: (1) how are the stimuli received? how do sensory defects interfere? what are the factors and condi- tions of observation and perception? (2) how are they as- sociated, analyzed and combined in the mind? what is the rate and progress in the formation of associative bonds? what factors and conditions promote or hinder the most economical formation of the bonds? what are the effects of one set of associations upon other sets of connections? (3) how are they redirected to respond? II. The psy- chology of school subjects in particular: (1) what are the specific psychological processes involved in the learning of each particular subject? (2) how may the capacities in each subject be measured? (3) wThat factors and conditions promote or retard the learning in each particular subject? In contrast with those who maintain that there is no such thing as transfer of training, Starch concludes that (1) practically every investigation showTs that improvement in one mental or neural function is accompanied by a greater or less amount of modification in other functions; (2) this modification is in most instances a positive transfer, an improvement; (3) the amount of improvement in the capacity trained is probably never accompanied by an equal amount of improvement in other capacities.18 Heredity and Education.-Speaking from a biological point of view, Vernon Kellogg suggests that the principal fault with our present system of education may be that it takes too little account of inherited differences in indi- vidual capacity.19 As there are fixed levels of individual is D. Starch, Educational Psychology, 1919, p. 212. is "The New Heredity," in The Atlantic Monthly, Nov., 1922, p. 589. Play and Education 627 capacity, individuals should be classified by means of men- tal tests, with classes for backward children and classes for the forward: forward pupils should not be limited to the pace of average intelligence or inferior skill. At first thought, such education would not be democratic. But education for the gifted student would not be at the ex- pense of the stupid. It would be as much to their advan- tage as to the advantage of the smart, because the stupid would be relieved from the effort of trying to do the im- possible and of becoming hopeless through failure to achieve it. It is democratic to give every child the oppor- tunity to make the most and best of himself through suit- able environment according to inherent capacity. As edu- cation is environment, it should be good environment. Mental Tests.-Recent literature of education has been so largely devoted to intelligence tests that educational psychology is for many merely a question of the tests, with a resulting loss in scope and idealism, in contrast with the period when self-activity and self-development were so strongly emphasized, when the existence and place of consciousness and self-consciousness had not been ques- tioned. Some educators easily assume that the whole matter can be settled by ascertaining the mental age, and by taking one's clues from man's instinctive or original nature, in contrast with the higher or spiritual nature so strongly emphasized by devotees of Froebel and by such writers as Horne. From the point of view of the history of education, it may be said that ours is an epoch of tran- sition in which we are about to determine the real value of the tests, and to coordinate the results in the light of the contributions of psychoanalysis. There will then be need of further coordination with reference to the values of idealism. In a series of articles contributed to The New Republic, Walter Lippman has ventured to indicate the importance of testing the tests by calling attention to the limitation of the tests as now used. He finds the needed clue in Burt's Mental and Scholastic Tests, for Mr. Burt fortu- nately does not assume that the same scale is equally valid 628 Social Organization for all children in all parts of the world under all condi- tions. It is significant that twenty-four different revisions of the scale have been made, revisions which have to do with the selection of tests, and with the decision as to the age group in which the individual tests belong. A test for colors which Binet said was a test of eight-year old intel- ligence was called, by him, a seven-year test two years later, a four-year test by Decroly and Degand, a seven by Goddard, a six by Johnston, a five by Terman, a six by Kuhlman, an eight by Bobertag, and a five by Burt. Lippman concludes that we are far from possessing a standard universal scale. "What we have at best is a variety of scales, adapted to certain kinds of children in particular localities. ' '20 Burt holds that the gross result of the tests shows that "one-ninth is attributable to age, one-third to intellectual development, and over one-half to school attainment. . . . In determining the child's performance in the Binet-Simon scale, intelligence can bestow but little more than one-half the share of school, and age but one-third the share of in- telligence." Going still farther, Link maintains that what the tests measure is not inborn intelligence but acquired facility in using it.21 Hence the differences disclosed by the tests are not due to differences in native intelligence alone, as if education and environment were not factors at all; oftentimes what they disclose is differences in edu- cational opportunity. Native endowment is only one of several factors involved. Hence Link suggests that a widely prevalent misconception can be avoided by classify- ing the tests as measurements, not of intelligence, but as tests of attainment. All that we can now accurately say is that we are concerned with levels of common attain- ments, granted all the factors that have entered into our inadequate educational system. Under freer economic conditions, and bettered education, the tests should register a higher level of attainment. Education and Life.-Some attempts have already been 20 The New Republic, May 2, 1923. 21 "What Is Intelligence?" in The Atlantic Monthly, Sept., 1923. Play and Education 629 made to apply the results of psychoanalysis to education, and books have appeared on "the child's unconscious mind," the unconscious mind in relation to parents and to opportunities in the school-room; but only a few definite contributions have been made as yet. Before these rela- tionships can be established, it will be necessary to try out still further the application of psychoanalysis to life. To what extent, for instance, is sublimation possible? Is the so-called unconscious mind of the child sufficiently understood so that all latent capacities may be enlisted, and all mental conflict be avoided? Is any one able to coordinate the findings of mental tests with those of psy- choanalysis, so as to work out a synthetic method, as specialists like Hamblin Smith have been doing in de- veloping the psychology of the criminal? Again, some use has been made of the fact of man's sug- gestibility and the results which follow. Emphasis has also been placed anew on the power of ideals. If the pro- founder conclusions of psychology with regard to the instincts, emotions, desires, and the "drive" are to be co- ordinated with the newer knowledge concerning the intel- lect, it is highly important to refashion our ideals and assign new constructive emphasis to them. The intellect will then be given an opportunity which it has never en- joyed before, with all this newly estimated wealth of content to react upon and assimilate. In his Education and Industry, Link raises problems to be worked out in relation to trade schools and schools established by the great industries, with intimations that our educational system has hitherto failed to take account of its opportunities in these fields. If the creative instinct in industry is to be given fuller recognition, it is a problem to know how this shall be accomplished amidst the en- croachments of "the iron age of industry. Two books have appeared under the title The Mind in the Making, and a volume by E. A. Kirkpatrick is en- titled The Individual in the Making. These inquiries sug- gest that we have not yet taken full account of the find- ings of Hobhouse, Baldwin, and others who have sought 630 Social Organization to trace mental evolution from its beginnings. Kirkpatrick does not define education as purely intellectual, volitional, or emotional; "the only adequate statement is that which is made from the viewpoint of complete and balanced per- sonality. That the rational and moral being, who is the subject of education, should find himself, realize himself, come into complete possession of himself, and have perfect control of himself, so that every power is brought into efficient functioning in such a way as to reinforce every other power ... no onesidedness, no atrophy. ' '22 The supreme end is to be mastery for value. The aim is for the maximum of reasoned and deliberate and free action, with the minimum of implicit and unquestioning obedi- ence to authority. If this high aim is to be striven for anew we need not only to take account of the realistic con- siderations of J. H. Robinson's The Mind in the Making, and all that Trotter tells us concerning gregariousness and the herd; but also reconsider human nature in the light of its "remaking" (Hocking), in the organization of the self. REFERENCES Play Horne, H. H., The Philosophy of Education, 1904, Chap. ITT. Sully, J., Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, p. 490. Griffith, C. R., General Introduction to Psychology, p. 490. Patrick, G. T. W., The Psychology of Relaxation, 1916, Chap. II. Ellwood, C. A., Introduction to Social Psychology, p. 197. Platt, T., The Psychology of Social Life, p. 57. McDougall, Outline of Psychology, p. 170, foil.; Social Psy- chology, p. 110, foil. Smith and Guthrie, General Psychology, 1921, p. 148. Colvin and Bagley, Human Behavior, 1913, p. 40. Education Horne, H. H., Philosophy of Education, 1904, Chap. VI; Psychological Principles of Education, 1906. Pyle, W. H., Outlines of Educational Psychology, 1911. 22 Op. tit., p. 206. Play and Education 631 James, W., Talks to Teachers, 1899, Chaps. I-XV. Palmer, G. H., The Teacher, 1908. Colvin, S. S., and Bagley, W. C., Human Behavior, 1913. Dewey, J., Education and Democracy, 1916, Chaps. I, XI. Starch, D., Educational Psychology, 1919, Chaps. I, III. Link, H. C., Education and Industry, 1923. Magnusson, P. M., Psychology as Applied to Education, 1913. Tracy, F., The Psychology of Adolescence, 1921. Hall, G. S., Adolescence, 1904. Kirkpatrick, E. A., The Individual in the Making, 1911. Bagley, W. C., The Educative Process, 1905. Burt, Cyril, Mental and Scholastic Tests, 1921. CHAPTER XXXIX ETHICS AND PSYCHOLOGY From one point of view it is a simple matter to mark off the sphere of ethics in contrast with that of psychology. Ethics is a normative science, concerned with what ought to be, with the nature of moral obligation, the question of freedom, the source and field of the sanctions, the problems of duty in relation to the social order in which we live, with its dependence on custom, its legal practices, the struggle toward justice. It is therefore not a question of the mere analysis and description of mental elements, of their evolu- tion, or of conflicts between phases of our nature as a pathologist diagnoses them; not a question of mere wants, likes and dislikes; surely not a question of heredity and environment. The real issues concerning worths or values do not in fact arise till we pass from the field of descrip- tion to that of judgment in the light of higher standards. The Basis of Ethics.-Yet the history of moral theories makes it plain that ethics is in a way necessarily based on some sort of psychology. The inadequacies and failures of ethics have to a large extent been due to the implied psy- chology. Even the type of ethical theory which is most remote from the concrete world is founded on a psychology. The question, What is the total nature or constitution of man? is necessarily involved in the attempt to determine the nature of the good, and this question involves prior study of man's nature from a psychological point of view. If with Plato we find that the part of man's nature which we regard as eligible or ideal is essentially rational, we then have the problem of the irrational or sentient part to de- scribe and account for, also the task of organizing the irra- tional so as to achieve what Aristotle calls a moral habit. 632 Ethics and Psychology 633 The ethical idealism of Plato is contrasted with the doctrine that pleasure is the good, and so we have the psychological problem of the ages concerning hedonism. The Stoic theory that the emotions should be eradicated involves a rationalistic doctrine which ignores the fact that emotion is life, gives dynamic, yields the highest motive; and so we are sent back to the psychology of the emotions. Ac- cording to Kant the good man should be free from desire. But desire yields energy, the urge or vital force which in- volves the whole issue between satisfaction and dissatisfac- tion, the problems of repression, sublimation, and the like. Whether it be a question of idealism or of realism, the im- portance of psychological considerations is beyond ques- tion today. Both groups of theories have tended toward the abstract, and this tendency is traceable in both cases to the abstractness of the implied psychology. As Seth puts the matter, "The half view of human life rests on a half view of human nature. The true ethical life must be the life of the whole man, of the moral person. . . . We must penetrate beneath the dualism of reason and sensibility-of reason and unreason-to their underlying unity. The ethical point of view is neither reason nor sensibility, but will, as the expression of the true and total self." 1 Hence there is need of a psychology of the will. But the voluntary presupposes the involuntary, we must execute movements before we can intend or plan them. There is an original stock of movements calling for prior analysis. In contrast with these the will is seen to be modifying and selective; it is not primarily creative. Since it is the entire man who makes the choice, takes up a new moral attitude, we have the whole problem of moral choice to consider; for choice is plainly an integration, organization or assimilation of impulses involving the entire original nature of man. If we assume that pleasure is the object of choice, that pleasure is the only motive which prompts us, we might easily fall into any one of the long series of resulting assumptions which have characterized the history of egoistic hedonism, utilitarianism, and evolutionary hedonism to the i James Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles, 1904, Chap. III. 634 Social Organization present time. Hedonism in its various forms has been re- peatedly refuted by the idealists. It has been shown again and again that pleasure and happiness are not identical, that pleasure is not the only object of desire, that we can not settle the great issues of the moral life by a hedonistic calculus; and that fundamental difficulties are encountered if the attempt is made to leap from my pleasure to the happiness of the greatest number, on the ground that man 11 ought" to work for the greatest happiness of the greatest number. But any number of controversies might have been avoided had there been searching analysis of the nature and content of pleasure in relation to our ideas. There is a contrast, for example, between the moving idea and the emotional strength by which the idea moves towards its goal, between a pleasant idea and the idea of pleasure. Pleasure has been briefly characterized as the mechanism or dynamic of choice.2 The energy or moving power of an idea lies in the feeling which it arouses. A pleasant choice is not necessarily a choice of pleasure. On the whole our choices are made with reference to an end in view with the expectation that if happiness is added it will be other than mere pleasure, and will accompany the results we achieve only in case we do not make either pleasure or happi- ness a direct object of pursuit. In an ethical system such as Seth's one finds the elements of pleasure and happiness subjected to a prior critique such that the idea differs very greatly from that of the crude conception of the hedonist of old, or the uncritical idea of happiness of the utilitarian (Bentham). Moral Faculty.-Again, the importance of psychology is seen when we note that all through the ages the exis- tence of some special "faculty" has been assumed without much analysis. In classic times this faculty was ' ' reason, ' ' put over against the irrational as if it were without a his- tory. Later, in England, it became a "moral sense"; it was moral intuition or instinct, conscience, or a eulogized emo- tion such as "sympathy" (Adam Smith) to which special authority was assigned. In each case uncritically accepted 2 Seth, op. cit., p. 76. Ethics and Psychology 635 psychology was at the basis of the assumption. Later psy- chologists failed to discern any such "faculty," however acute their introspection or analysis. Psychology did not disclose a distinctive moral nature, exercising authority over the rest. All sides of our nature are involved in moral as in general experience. There is no "voice" or power telling us in articulately ethical speech what is right, and what is wrong. The whole question belongs in the sphere of judgment or values, and the finest analysis of which psychology is capable are essential if we shall assess all elements of inner experience, and assign moral authority to certain of our judgments. The moral process is an aspect of our mental processes in general. Our sensibility as such does not settle any issue for us. There is no moral instinct apart from gregariousness and our social life at large. A moral intuition is not the pronouncement of a "faculty," but a moral judgment involving empirical elements, con- trasts within experience, perception, insight, rational attain- ment. Nor is conscience a thing apart, as if the moral self had been endowed without relation to heredity or environ- ment, aside from all experience. Psychology gives us no right to deny the presence of judgments of conscience, but it does not substantiate the popular view of conscience. Rationality.-It was once assumed that to be normal was to be rational, as if most of our acts were rational or reasonable, with now and then a deviation. Consequently little attention was given to the instinctive side of our nature, to our "lower" nature. If emotions were con- sidered it was with reference to the noblest of them, the moral sentiments, with special emphasis on benevolence. But nowadays to be normal is to realize that very few of our acts spring from reason. It is perfectly normal to feel and even respond to desires once deemed unholy. Our normal nature includes what is elemental or native. It is natural to fall into conflicts. Reason is an attainment, and we have not as a race made creditable headway in attaining it. So-called "natural reason" is no longer scorned. Reason may very well have a humble origin. But in gen- eral, it comes late, later than will; and the more we know 636 Social Organization about the will the more we see the need of prior mental evo- lution to bring us to the point where moral will appears. None the less, a psychological approach to ethics may very well be found by studying the conflicts and tendencies of our nature amidst which reason appears, selecting and organizing, and proposing standards. The contrast be- tween moral conduct regarded as rational and other con- duct as irrational or non-moral still holds good, even though we conclude that the goal of reason is far away. The con- trast in favor of reason involves a certain idea of con- sistency or integrity which we associate with our idea of the self as moral, with conscience. Thus Emerson says, ' ' that is right which is according to my constitution. ' ' An ethical judgment involves the idea of moral reason. The wrong will always be regarded in some sense as the irra- tional. The question of right and wrong is partly a ques- tion of the most complete organization of the impulses which a man finds himself compelled to acknowledge or assess according to a standard.3 The point nowadays is that the wealth of our impulsive nature has been shown to be so very great, and the problem of organization so much more far-reaching than we suspected. The individual's knowledge of man's total nature is necessarily a factor. Our judgments are very different now that we know some- thing about the psychology of the defective and the crimi- nal, the psychopathic personality, and the dreamer of Freudian dreams. With all the emphasis on the libido in sexual terms, we may well point out that there is also in our nature, in some of us at least, an onward or upward "drive" making for moral goals. The old-time antithesis between egoistic and altruistic impulses is still timely. On the whole, the balance of the argument is in favor of the conclusion that man is by nature, fundamentally, in- herently, social; and this is a strong point in favor of ethical interpretation. Psychologically, it may wTell appear that moral judgments are mere results of custom, rules originally formed by a synthesis of various impulses, en- forced by habit, dignified by popular ideas of conscience, or 3 See Cooley, Human Nature and the Social Order, p. 329. Ethics and Psychology 637 substantiated by appeal to religious sanctions. But ethical judgments may still be said to begin where psychological description ceases. It by no means follows that the right is identical with the social as opposed to the individual. The right belongs fundamentally with the individual, as primarily a social being, a being who seeks self-realization in highest, completest form. The richer the content of our nature as described by social psychology, the greater the opportunity for ethical judgments and conclusions. Social Content.-We have noted above that many of the issues we have been considering run over into the field of ethics, and so we have had to leave the discussion unfinished. The psychotherapist finds that the study of the inner life of an individual in relation to nervous disorders inevitably involves a moral aspect, and his process of re-education involves an applied moral doctrine. He is a determinist, and the question of determinism in relation to freedom is one that can not even be adequately discussed in psychological terms. The psychology of the criminal involves such ques- tions as responsibility, right and wrong, and the specialist in that field, although a determinist, can hardly avoid ethical judgments. Social psychology is necessarily incom- plete in its description of social processes. Some matters are almost purely psychological, for instance, imitation, sug- gestion, the effect of public opinion, the movements of the crowd. But sympathy is in part ethical. Propagandism is judged by ethical standards. Tacitly, any attempt to classify according to a scale is in part ethical. The whole idea of efficiency implies judgments of worth, and whether or not the means, principles, and methods are arranged in an actual scale, the effort to achieve a certain end involves the idea of such an arrangement or system. By implication we all pursue some end or ends which we take to be worth while. Psychological studies usually lead to the conclusion that the springs of action are numerous, hence that we pur- sue a pluralism of ends. Psychology is of service to ethics in describing the actual motives of men. It reminds the ethical philosopher anew that for the most part we are un- aware of the wealth of our motivation, and the psychologist 638 Social Organization is reminded that the whole question is essentially a prob- lem of consciousness and self-consciousness. Behavior and Conduct.-Behaviorists are surely right in insisting that we should study the behavior of men to learn what actuates them, since we then objectify, avoid un- due subjective analysis. But when the last word is spoken behavior is a sign or symptom, it is not "conduct." The greatest triumph of ethics is won only by following mechan- ism as far as it can go at the utmost, by trying out determin- ism to the extreme; then reconsidering the whole field of human activity as the sphere of moral conduct. What be- haviorism tries to ignore or to regard as inconsequential, namely, consciousness, is the starting-point, empirically speaking, of ethics. In his willfulness man tries to think and act as if judgments of right and wrong, moral obliga- tion and responsibility could be ignored. But the contrasts of self-consciousness are inevitable. Moral consciousness is a fact. Our consciousness conducts itself in certain ways, whether we will or no. We find ourselves held accountable even for our behavior. Why then does consciousness in re- lation to behavior conduct itself as it does? This is an ethical question. Is it possible to cover the whole field assigned to ethics in terms of psychological description and analysis? Some have thought so, particularly in the case of a description of mental evolution, which seems to account for custom, tradi- tion, and social conflict to the full, and to leave nothing more to be said that can not be put in terms of habit. Present-day reactions against conventional standards in favor of the pursuit of pleasure seem to imply the notion that we need no longer give heed to ethical considerations. The tendency to interpret the higher by the lower, to devote most of our time to describing the primitive or elemental, is very strong. Every now and then a new movement, such as behaviorism, springs up to claim that materialism after all is true. But the facts of the moral life, its contrasts, judgments, convictions, experiences, strivings, ideals, re- main; and the ethical philosopher can always with good reason point out that the generalizations of psychologists, Ethics and Psychology 639 such as mechanism or determinism, are unwarranted on psy- chological grounds, and must be examined from another point of view. Psychology is at best a descriptive science. It must forego the attempt to tell us what knowledge is, except in a secondary way. It leaves the description of the self in fragmentary terms. Above all, it fails to give any good reason for the existence of moral consciousness, with its judgments, with the conviction that certain princi- ples are right, that certain standards ought to rule. It may very well characterize the content of moral judgments, for these vary from age to age, and the right of to-day may be adjudged wrong to-morrow. But the great fact is the law that there shall be law. We can no more avoid or evade it than we can ignore the contrast between civil law and its penalties and those principles which have divine sanction. Moral Unrest.-Some attempts have been made to sum- marize the tendencies of our age which make it so difficult to carry out ethical standards. At Christmas-time, in 1922, the Pope undertook, at a meeting of the cardinals, to state the reasons which he believed were responsible for present conditions: (1) the unprecedented challenge to authority; (2) the unprecedented hatred between man and man; (3) an abnormal aversion to work; (4) an excessive thirst for pleasure as the chief aim in life; (5) a gross materialism, which denies the reality of the spiritual in the human. No one seems to have made a better classification. Referring to the fact that the juries failed to convict the murderers in the Herrin and Mer Rouge massacres; that Sacco and Vanizetti, although long since sentenced, 'Still live; that lynchings and murders and murderous attacks on paymasters are increasing in frequency; and that gross frauds constantly rob our citizens of their savings, a recent contributor to The Boston Herald finds causes in the un- restricted immigration of seventy-five years, with the sub- sequent lowering of the standard of Pur population; in the attempt to enforce sumptuary and paternal laws depriving the people of their freedom; and in the fact that thousands of people of foreign birth remain unassimilated under the impossible conditions imposed by the Volstead act-for- 640 Social Organization eigners who no longer believe in America, her laws or in- stitutions. Fervent and sincere but mistaken men and women, with great energy and concentration succeeded in getting through measures which they believed would make the people good, sober, and law-abiding; members of Con- gress thought these people represented the popular will, and found it easier to vote for than against. "Millions of our young men were away fighting for their country, and the rest of us forgot that eternal vigilance is the price of liberty. . . . The advocates of these measures were . . . ignorant of or ignored human nature. ' '4 To these causes may also be added the disturbances due to the World War, with the dissatisfaction over the peace settlement, and failure to accept the League of Nations; un- rest and disturbances due to the Russian situation; conflict over labor difficulties due in part to efforts to maintain the abnormal level of prices attained during the war; and the intensification of many social problems which have seemed all the more difficult since the war. There has been an unwillingness to face these moral issues. Temporarily at least there is lack of interest in ethical solutions of the great questions. Some would attribute this moral reaction to the theory of evolution, the decay of faith in the Bible as a later result of the '1 higher criticism, ' ' and to a general indifference toward the Church. Others point to the fact that when war prevails there is always a lowering of the moral level: men become more brutal as fighters; disregard the rights of citizens; become accustomed to the use of weapons; regard treaties as scraps of paper. Close students of ethical thought know that the philos- ophy of evolution has led to the enrichment of ethics, not toward its destruction. The criticism of the Bible has dis- closed the presence of the human factors without which no writing regarded as sacred can any longer be defended. Indifference toward the Church is due to many reasons, and so far as these pertain to psychology the solution of the problem is in part to be found in the study of questions which we are to take up in another chapter. History shows 4 Francis Peabody, July 8, 1923. Ethics and Psychology 641 that the content of ethical judgments is all the while changing, and that as long as moral issues are close at hand new estimates are not formed. New expressions of faith are apt to follow periods of unrest. We are at present in the period of interest in relativities, psychological de- scription, fresh interest in many matters which have not been taken into full account by ethical philosophers, prone as they are to dwell on the life of reason, somewhat remote from the world in their attitude, and often "dry" in their elaborate analyses. Progress.-The concept of progress is-on the whole ethical. If we study, with Watkins, the basis of industrial progress;5 or if, with Blackmar and Gillin, we estimate progress with reference to the closer integration of society, closer articulation of parts, the improvement of race or stock, the equalization of industrial opportunities, increased service of wealth in behalf of humanity; progress by adap- tation of the forces of nature to man; social direction of society in the interests of the individual;6 eventually we come to the question of the criterion of progress. The ethical philosopher argues that the standard is the develop- ment of morality: goodness is always progressive, while badness is retrogressive.7 Progress then is the direction in which all the forces acting within and upon a society dispose it to move, so as to maintain its equilibrium. Goodness is the standard which results from the opposition so estab- lished, against what destroys the equilibrium. The main course of progress is not linear, mere differentiation is in- sufficient to determine progress. The crucial consideration is the presence of goodness maintaining adjustment in the equilibrated whole. This plainly was our implicit standard when considering the development of the World War during 1914-18. We raised the question whether civilization would be lost as a result of the war. We feared it would, if Kultur should triumph, and the campaign of frightfulness be carried to 5 See Introd, to the Study of Labor Problems, Chap. XXVII. 6 See op. cit., p. 414 foil. t S. Alexander, Moral Order and Progress, 1899. 642 Social Organization England and America. We fought to save civilization, through sheer anxiety and fear, not primarily to save de- mocracy. With the coming of the Bolsheviki and the soviet campaign for overthrowing the nations, particularly our own democracy, we raised the question whether American labor would permit it, and quieted our fears with the assur- ance that it would not. We expected the equilibrium of democracy to be maintained. Did the war with its results increase the goodness of the world ? The answer turns upon our conception of goodness, and opens up the whole ques- tion of the field of ethics. Our inquiry in the field of social psychology discloses a constructive clue of very great ethical value, namely, the organic conception of goodness, the view that society is an organization in which individuals contribute their part, each limited, yet each capable of or- ganizing his forces so as to be not merely efficient but righteous. Social progress appears to lie in that direction, through the attainment of cooperation in place of mere com- petition. Hence the field of social ethics may be said to be- gin w'here our present inquiry comes to an end. The Corporate Ideal.-Doubtless the Christian ideal of corporate relationship has had more influence in suggesting a plan for cooperation than any other teaching, and it is possible that this ideal more than any other tends to fulfill the implications of social psychology at its best. According to the Apostle Paul's statement of this ideal,8 it involves a comparison between the "body politic" and the human body, with Its various organs, each with limited or special functions, adapted to mutual service, manifesting mutual dependence, with superiority of function in case of some of the organs; and a general relationship such that if one member suffers all suffer with it, or if good results all bene- fit by it. Applied to the Christian group, this means that with one head (Christ), one Spirit everywhere prevailing, love dominant, all shall be "members one of another." In- dividuals will disclose many gifts, of wisdom, healing, prophecy, power to teach; but one and the selfsame spirit working in all, dividing to every man severally as he will. 8 Bomans, XII; I Cor., XII. Ethics and Psychology 643 The given individual will find that his gift involves limi- tations, for it is contributory, not absolute. The suggestion is that, recognizing his gift, he shall cultivate it to the full; giving, not "getting," loving, not hating. The motive is: to love without dissimulation, cleaving to what is good, abhorring evil; kindly affectioned; fraternal; in honor pre- ferring one another; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord; re- joicing in hope; patient in tribulation. Membership in one another is to be achieved through diversities of operations, with the same God working all in all. Each is counseled to bear another's burdens; to be fruitful in every good work, increasing in the knowledge of God. Social psychology points the way to a higher ideal than the merely organic view, but the conception of an organiza- tion, rather than an organism, is harmonious with this teaching that each individual has his gifts, his opportunities for service such that in contributing he is contributed to; while taken as groups, as a society, a nation, the men and women constituting it may be said to be "members one of another." This ideal would lead to the realization of Graham Wallas's vision of the Great Society. It would call for the leadership of men of principle, with all politi- cians sublimated at last. We have already had glimpses of this possibility when, as in the case of the Galveston flood, there was a great emergency, and to get things done as they should be, politicians were displaced and the five men of the hour were put into office, constituting a commission form of government. On a larger scale we had a realization of such possibilities when, in 1918, to win the war, all dif- ferences whatsoever were put aside that, under Allied unity of command, there might be an organization of forces equal to the supreme occasion. Human nature then is capable of making the adaptation-when there is need. With a full moral equivalent for war, the peoples might be willing at last to cooperate in times of peace. 644 Social Organization Seth, James, A Study of Ethical Principles, 7th ed., revised, 1904, Chap. III. Cooley, C. H., Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902, Chap. X. Mackenzie, J. S., Manual of Ethics, 4th ed.. revised. 1901, Book I. Palmer, G. H., The Field of Ethics, 1901, Chap. I; The Nature of Goodness, 1903, Chaps. III-V. Irons, David, The Psychology of Ethics, 1903. Mecklin, J. M., An Introduction to Social Ethics, 1921, Part II. Fullerton, G. S., A Handbook of Ethical Theory, 1922 (ethics based on the psychology of the rational social will). Muirhead, J. H., The Elements of Ethics, 1902, Book I. Green, T. H., Prolegomena to Ethics, 1890, Book II. REFERENCES CHAPTER XL SOCIAL SERVICE AND DOMESTIC LIFE Less headway has been made in establishing explicit relationship with psychology in the field of social work than in some other fields. The social worker, in the settle- ment, in the various welfare societies, and in other forms of philanthropic work, everywhere meets the sheer hard facts of environment and heredity; and the immediate demands are such that there appears to be no time for investigation of the psychic factor. It may even seem that the inner life has nothing to do with conditions met in the slums, in the shops, among the poor and needy. Social Motives.-Failure to make explicit the connec- tion with the psychic factor is partly due to general reac- tion against old-time subjective points of view. Once there was emphasis on sin, with desire to save the soul while there was still time, and it was an easy matter to condemn people for their vicious desires and impulses. Now, the quest is for knowledge of the way people live, the con- ditions under which they work, their immediate needs, and the possibility of aiding them to help themselves. The worker is chiefly concerned with social betterment, and this means improvement in housing; better conditions in the shops; wiser use of material possessions and surround- ings. The various branches of social work are being better coordinated so as to avoid duplication. Religious work has been separated for the most part from welfare or charity work, and most settlements are non-sectarian. Every philanthropy implies a social psychology, how- ever, and it is chiefly a question of relating the human factors of the situation in social service with the specific interests of social psychology. The problems which social 645 646 Social Organization psychologists study in more technical terms have long been under consideration on the part of pioneers like Miss Addams of Hull House, Chicago, and Mr. Woods of the South End House, Boston, notably in the case of "gangs" and other groups of the city streets, and all phases of crowd psychology. Social ethics is a connecting branch of knowledge between the problems of the philanthropies and social psychology; its field is concerned w'ith such ques- tions as the liquor traffic, crime, poor relief, social con- science, public opinion, the home, the city, private prop- erty. As marked out by Mecklin, its field covers many of the questions which we have taken up in the latter half of this volume.1 In the schools for social workers, gen- eral psychology and social ethics find place among the subjects of paramount importance. Professional Work.-The rapid increase in the number of books on psychotherapy and psychoanalysis is evidence that applied psychology is essential in the medical field. The physician has an unsurpassed opportunity to know' the individual, to develop the psychical art of health, and assist in the process of reeducation. It might be said that psychology is at least as important for him as any science at his command, hence that psychology should be assigned a prominent place in the curriculum of medical schools. Tradition and medical materialism appear to be the chief obstacles. The physician's training tends to make him a hard-and-fast determinist, and it is difficult for him to see beyond behaviorism. In the case of the ministry, the value of psychology is so plain that some critics have suggested that it should be substituted for church history and theology in the divinity schools. When the clergyman studies "cases," he needs psychology above all else, that he may know not only the psycho-physical individual but a given type and a given instance. The study of psychoanalysis has to some extent taken the place of the former emphasis on sin. The next step will be to carry the study of human life in its re- making as far as psychology can go, that the theory of 1 J. M. Mecklin, An Introduction to Social Ethics, 1921. Social Service and Domestic Life 647 regeneration may be put in clearer light. It will be diffi- cult for the theologian to make this contribution, dispas- sionately studying the individual psychologically, when the temptation is strong to interpret the facts to prove his particular creed. In place of the multiplicity of creeds which we now possess, we may have a single system of spiritual truth growing out of our profounder knowledge of the whole individual. In medicine, law 2 and the min- istry there is need of psychological knowledge of the indi- vidual apart from the presuppositions wherewith tradition has concealed him. Preaching.-The psychological way to preach is to select a telling incident from real life to-day, a fact out of human experience which any one can verify; then bring to bear any spiritual teaching, ancient or modern, which really throws light on the specific case. The implied prin- ciple may then be said to be true for the listener when he has compared it with actual experience and found that it really clarifies. A sermon of this type grows gradually out of the minister's thought, as he compares experience with experience, notes the implied laws and conditions, and tries to contribute real wisdom to people in need. His chief words of wisdom may still be from the teachings of Jesus. But this is because he understands at last that Jesus ministered to individuals even more than to groups, and spoke straight to the heart. Preaching takes on a new interest when the preacher has in mind concrete individuals as complete psycho-physical beings whom he hopes to reach by direct appeal, by a larger sympathy growing out of a greater insight; without condemnation; without teaching fear; and with faith in spiritual truth which is not dependent on mere tradition, custom, ecclesiasticism, or history. It is possible to use psychology constructively, and so to offset the agnosticism which has grown out of its destructive use. The new psychology of conviction grows out of the pro- founder knowledge which shows how we come by our convictions. It takes full account of the unwitting ele- ments which have gone to make the convictions of the past, 2 See Griffith, Gen. Introd, to Psychology, Chap. XVII. 648 Social Organization together with the personal motives which have half-con- sciously influenced the individual in his adoption of tradi- tion, creed, social suggestion, custom, public opinion, con- ventionality. The Art of Persuasion.-Psychology studies people where they are: highly impulsive, emotional, suggestible, creatures of instinct and habit, with psycho-physical con- ations rather than purely spiritual aspirations. The art of persuasion should grow out of this intimate knowledge of human nature. The majority of auditors are still at the stage where what they need, or what they will make some effort to assimilate, is some fairly simple thought thrown out in a context of feeling. Very few people are ready to follow an intellectual discourse. Very few want the profounder knowledge or wisdom which the teacher has to give. But nearly every one is interested in a human incident told without much interpretation, and so stated that a practical application can be made. The teacher need not himself be emotional, or resort to efforts to win his auditors by mere oratory or influence; but he must take account of the emotional, instinctive, conative level on which his hearers are mentally active. He must remember that the intellect occupies a rather small area. To assume that because his arguments are clear and persuasive to him therefore they will be clear and persuasive to others, is to forget what modern psychology teaches us. It is easy to say that people "ought" to believe, that they ought to accept true doctrine, and then experience true conse- quences. As life goes, people first experience needs, then search for resources. Each of us functions where his pre- vailing love is. Nursing.-The nurse has a particularly good opportun- ity to acquire that wise sympathy, that knowledge of types, of motives, hidden promptings, and subtle stirrings which enables the psychologically trained person to be of direct service. Such knowledge begins with insight into the nurse's own self as a working power.3 The nurse needs exceptional inner control, with a certain remoteness some- 3 Cf. A. C. Higgins, The Psychology of Nursing, 1921. Social Service and Domestic Life 649 times called impersonal, a certain ability to discern sensi- tivity and nervousness in all its forms in a patient without entering into it. Since "each patient is a human being with responses peculiar to himself" (Higgins), each must be observed in the light of psychological knowledge. Hence there is need not only of general psychology, such as that of James, Calkins, Warren; specific psychology, such as Tansley and other writers on the "new psy- chology" now teach; but psychology applied in the medical field, wherever it may be acquired. Recent works have en- deavored to meet this need. Some nurses have dropped out of active work for a year or two, that they might ac- quire the knowledge which was not in any way part of their original training. Others have found it difficult to acquire or apply psychology till its importance was recog- nized by physicians. Like others, the nurse is hampered by professional tradition. But this need not keep her from gaining knowledge of the whole individual as disclosed by psychology. The nurse inevitably exerts a certain influ- ence, has a certain presence, adopts a certain attitude; and much depends cm the knowledge of human nature, the view of human life which enters into these personal influences. It is important for the nurse to understand the psychology of the inner experiences, emotions, and periods peculiar to woman, to know '1 the soul of woman. ' ' The Nature of Woman.-It is a significant fact that the nature of woman has until recently been studied by men rather than by women. "For eras man has attempted to inform woman concerning her sphere, her duties, and her place in the community. Woman has heeded, with more or less intentness, the preconceived and a priori views of her male companion. ... To charm or placate man, she has endured oppressions, exactions, taboos, and all manner of proscriptions. She has acquiesced with the strangest in- hibitions, laws, customs, and social observances, and prac- tically permitted man to shape her whole thought, conduct, and destiny upon his arbitrary plan. ' '4 Why is it that women have lived in this condition of 4 Walter M. Gallichan, The Psychology of Marriage, 1918, p. 164. 650 Social Organization subjugation? Why, as Gina Lombroso puts it, should woman, "the mother of the race, the most essential crea- ture in the universe, obey man, a creature inferior to her according to the laws of nature and probably also from a moral and intellectual point of view? Why should woman's position in society be less important than man's? Why should she not have the same rights as man? Why should she be cut off from satisfaction considered most precious, such as fame, honor, power, the best paid and most responsible posts in public or private enterprises? Why should she lose her good name by committing actions which men take pride in? Why should she be bound by a moral code superior to man's, obliged to make sacrifices infinitely greater than he?"5 These questions are highly important in our day, when the problems of the sexes, of marriage, are intimately connected with the ideals of social service. Gina Lombroso long believed that "man's injustice" was the reason. The thesis which she now defends is that woman is not man's equal. There is a greater reason than the evident physical and intellectual differences between man and woman, namely, the fundamental fact determining woman's attitude toward life, that she "centers her feel- ings, her enjoyment, her ambition in something outside herself; she makes not herself but another person, or even things surrounding her, the center of her emotions; and usually this person is some one whom she loves and by whom she wants to be loved, husband, son, father, friend. ' '6 Woman, affected by the pleasures and sorrows around her, can not enjoy herself, work, or even tear down with- out considering others, to win their approbation or disap- probation, their affection or dislike; hence woman can only act if she has some one to think of who thinks of her, some one for whom she can act and for whom she can provide. The happiest moment in her life is when family and social duties absorb her absolutely, exhausting every force within 5 The Soul of Woman, trans. 1923, p. 4. 6 Op. cit., p. 5. Social Service and Domestic Life 651 her; and nothing is more painful to her than inactivity, indifference, passivity. The reason for this altcrocentrism is found in "an instinct which stamps the radical differ- ence between the two sexes. . . . Feminine altruism is a necessity of the species. If the female were not endowed with it the life of the world would cease. ' '7 While we all want to leave an imprint of ourselves in the eternal world, and love and ambition actuate both men and women, man can not count on love to give him a bit of eternity; he does not create materially, but only with his brain, his heart, his hand, and he is egocentric, tends to make himself and his own desires the center of his life, manifests an indifference, passivity, reasoning power, in contrast with woman's intuition, passion, and activity. The consequences for woman are tragic, and it is hard to give her the happiness which is hers by right; she is always placed in the peculiarly difficult position of having to choose between her emotions and her interests. Most of the tragedies come from the difficulty in measuring the relative value of her personal interests and the satisfaction of her fundamental, instinctive longings. Again, the liv- ing beings constituting the object of woman's passion change continually, and her life is full of contrasts and minor tragedies, which man escapes by being dependent on himself.8 While many would question this thesis, and still insist that woman is superior to man, and others would main- tain that woman is as egocentric as man, particularly in these days when she is trying out her powers and asserting her freedom, for every student of psychology there is value in this keen analysis of the soul of woman in terms of in- tuition, self-confidence, obstinacy, love of fashion, pride, envy, the desire to be first, sentimentality, fondness for adornment; and in the acute studies of personality, activ- ity, intellect, and love with which the volume closes. Intuition is said to be the possibility of foreseeing what the effect of a given action will be on another, the ability to sense the feelings and emotions of another before they 7 Ibid., pp. 9, 11. 8 Ibid., pp. 15, foil., 20, 21. 652 Social Organization are expressed;11 one of the bases of alterocentrism and pas- sionality, " whereas man's intuition is "intellectual and deliberate." "When moved intuitively woman is sure of herself, she does not hesitate before acting, she does not ask for time to think things out. . . . Intuition is what it is, and it can not be bettered by reflection." Yet woman's intuitive mind not only narrows her mental horizon but limits the degree of perfection which she can attain in any given subject.9 Woman's mind is said to differ from man's not so much in quantity as in quality and direction. Masculine stand- ards are not suitable to women, because man is created to fulfill an entirely different function in the world. "In trying to imitate man, woman is-denaturing herself and has retrograded considerably. Woman has never fallen so low as when she began to try to imitate man." With woman love is one with devotion and sacrifice; hence her love for the sick, the wretched, the disgraced, the victim of ill for- tune. But woman is loved according to a criterion differ- ent from her own, hence the tragedy of her life.10 Historical Evidences.-Instead of analyzing woman's nature with reference to the traditional view that women are more imaginative and more artistic than men and have a more delicate intuition, Ramsay Traquair searches through history to find the contrasts, and comes to the conclusion that there are no great women musicians; all the great creative artists are men; and in literature also women are inferior to men in imagination, intuition, and the abstract qualities.11 Woman has not taken the lead in the great world-religions, because all the great religions are abstract and mystic in thought. So too the philosopher is concerned with pure thought. It is in the sphere of action that woman excels, namely, in organizing power, in the management of a household, in the small business, in social work. In Asia, where the civilizations have al- ways suppressed woman, there has been lack of sustained energy, lack of organization, and of practical qualities. 9 Ibid., pp. 27, 43, 141. io Ibid., pp. Ill, 179, 201. ii "Women and Civilization," The Atlantic Monthly, Sept., 1923. Social Service and Domestic Life 653 But in America women are really in control of the social and civilized life of the community. Men and women were made to live together and to avoid undue abstraction or mere practicality. Marriage.-Gallichan approaches the question of mar- riage in the light of the physiological facts concerning the sexual nature which every enlightened person should know, and the differences between the sexes.12 Starting with sex as 11 the supreme impulse, ' ' he finds that in child- hood, before marriage, in the choice which love makes, in the case of husband and wife, in the most ancient social problem, this is the central issue. The great motive there- fore should be social service, that we may educate the entire community in the psychological knowledge on sexual matters which is essential to happiness and free develop- ment. " Marriage is a sexual union. If the sexuality is entirely eliminated friendship may possibly remain. But the average mortal yearns for more than the ordinary love of comrades, when he or she dreams of the ideal affection and oneness of the husband and the wife. . . . Tempera- mental maladaptation, as it is termed, is very frequently nothing more than sexual disharmony. ' '13 Hence the im- portance of understanding the sexual differences down to the foundation. For man everything depends on his understanding of love as the understanding of woman, her sexual character- istics, affectability, liability to fatigue; and the sensitivity which exposes her to mental shock, exhaustion of the nerves, and various physical disturbances. Women are probably much more impressionable and suggestible than men. Man's opportunity is to exercise tact, intuition, sympathy, tenderness, especially in the first stage of matri- monial life, when misunderstandings and discords so read- ily enter in. For example, there are periods when the patient woman may become suddenly irritable, the tract- able wife may develop singular waywardness, and the warm-tempered one exhibit unrestrained rage at trifles, for 12 The Psychology of Marriage. 13 Ibid., p. 118. 654 Social Organization no obvious reason.14 The reasons for this hypersensitive- ness should be recognized in such a way as to put all hitherto disparaged functions and differences in a light which frees woman from alleged disgraces and inferiorities. So too the wife should know the secondary sexual differ- ences which contrast man from woman, also the specific aptitudes of the sexes, the differing emotions and aspira- tions. Sex antagonism is largely due to ancient illusions. It is not a fault or defect in men that they are urged by a powerful libido. The zeal for shielding the weaker sex has created "mon- strous and appalling results with far-reaching reactions. It has deepened feminine timidity, over-accentuated awe and shame, intensified woman's affectability, and exposed her to error, and often failure, through profound ignorance of life, of man, and of herself. In the domain of love, sex and marriage, woman has suffered more than man from the long heritage of ignorance. Even the prophets and the poets have often conspired to veil the truths of life from women's eyes. . . . Want of sex education is a com- man cause of failure and tragedy for women in marital life. Many women know little or nothing of their deepest desires, idiosyncrasies, prejudices, and aversions, until they are suddenly and often irrevocably, confronted with spe- cific difficulties arising in w'edded life. . . . Many estrange- ments between man and wife are traceable to ignorance of sexual hygiene, a perverted ethical attitude, a fantastic tradition, or an old wives' fable."15 Marriage and Divorce.-Approaching the vexed ques- tion of divorce in relation to the Church, the law, and the increasing sentiment in favor of freer conditions for legal separation, Miss Maude Royden raises the prior question concerning the nature of marriage itself, a question which must be settled before the psychology of marriage can be put on the surest basis.10 Emphasis on infidelity in mar- 14 ma., p. 143. is md., pp. 166, 167. The author gives many references to the leading works on sexual matters, and valuable information for stu- dents of marital relations, from the physiological side. 16 "What is Marriage?", The Atlantic Monthly, Sept., 1923. Social Service and Domestic Life 655 riage has tended to enforce the notion that marriage is primarily physical union, and the authority of Christ has been invoked to support this view. Marriage has been called indissoluble in one breath, and then the sole reason for annulling it has been discussed in the next. The result has been that the physical side of marriage has been de- clared the highest. Miss Royden quotes Lord Birkenhead to the effect that this is an insult to the spiritual and sac- ramental conception of marriage. Instead, what we have to do as Christians is "to create and uphold such an ideal of marriage as Christ would recognize as 'made by God,' to which the very idea of separation would be abhorrent. It would involve absolute fidelity-to the ideal before mar- riage, to the person after marriage. It should, being a spiritual union, be permanent, and, being physical, be sac- ramental. It should be the outward and visible sign of the grace of a spiritual union. No one should dare to marry unless he truly believes that his love is for life, and is prepared to accept the responsibility for such a love. He should know that body, soul, and spirit all go to a per- fect union, and should regard the physical as the sacra- ment of the spiritual love. Sacramental in that it not only expresses but actually conveys and intensifies love. . . . He should realize that passion, glorious and essential as it is, must inevitably pass at last, and should not confound its passing with the passing of love, but realize that love is something greater and deeper still. No one, therefore, should be allowed to marry in ignorance, and on this the Church should strenuously insist." How is this high ideal to be attained, and what of the exceptions? All young people should be taught that sex is a great creative impulse, hence sacred. This impulse should no longer be classified as "lower," but should be associated with the higher forms of life, becoming conscious, powerful, and individual, not as life sinks, but as it rises in the scale of created things. Young people should know all that can be rightly known without experience. But much will still be left unknown, there will be mistakes and failures; for nothing is more 656 Social Organization glamourous, deceptive, than physical passion. When it is found that nothing is present which constitutes true mar- riage, it is futile to pretend that a marriage is real; and divorce should be granted when marriage has in fact ceased. Divorce should "not be granted because any one or all of a schedule of offenses has been committed, but because the marriage is no longer real." Marriage as Adjustment.-Granted that marriage is a human relationship and is only real when there is inner or spiritual union, the psychology of it begins with the spirit- ual fact and includes the already well-known psycho- physical facts so frequently dwelt on by current writers. Writers like Miss Royden and Havelock Ellis 17 are able to bring together the facts and ideals in the total field. In the larger sense of the word, it might be said that as marriage is in part at least a union of minds, of souls, agreeing to work out life's problems together, marriage is for adjustment. A secret of happy married life is found in the habit which some acquire very early-through recognition of the fact that most troubles grow out of accumulated minor causes-namely, the habit of clearing up petty difficulties and other matters when they occur, in their immediate context. There is a fundamental and constant reason why matters of significance as well as secondary matters should be frequently talked over without reserve, with determi- nation to trace difficulties to their causes, and to forestall all misunderstandings. Where there is an ideal of mutual helpfulness through mutual dependence, there can be mutual confidence. The implication is that marriage, es- sentially for love, is also for development; hence that it is an adjustment between varied forces, including not only sexual differences, but temperamental contrasts, and the social relationships involved in the union of two families, with the tests of faith and love, patience and wisdom which such a union is likely to call for. There are influ- ences, if not pressure, brought to bear to maintain the old relationships unchanged-mother to daughter, father to 17 See especially Little Essays of Love and Virtue. Social Service and Domestic Life 657 son, the family activities of the one household in contrast with the activities of the other-hence the contrasts be- tween conservatism and the promptings of new life going forth to establish its own center. The wife may hold strongly by her own family and tend to draw the husband away from intimate sympathy with his family. The hus- band may take the lead so that the wife's family is roused into opposition. Economic motives, worldly ambitions, re- ligion, and many other factors enter in. With the coming of children the complexities increase. The forming of social ties of varied kinds adds still other forces. Theories about marriage also enter in, especially in these days of "the emancipation of woman." There is an almost con- stant contrast between ideas of dependence and ideas of independence. Instead of trying to outwit each other, the husband and wife who regard marriage as an opportunity for intelligent adjustment in the light of psychological knowledge will be content to lead in some respects while following in certain others. As in each of us there is a prevailing love, so in each there is opportunity for union between love and wisdom, or will and understanding; and a possibility of union be- tween man and woman as a marriage of the love and wis- dom of the one with the wisdom and love of the other. This is the enduring basis of true marriage, and love of sex should be seen in the light of this. Hence there is need of a campaign of social service very different from that of spreading proper knowledge concerning sex hygiene and its varied relationships. From the point of view of this higher standard one is not perplexed by problems of inequality, injustice, or inferiority: it is a question of the abilities each has to contribute, man and woman working together, each finding a place in the social whole in which the ideal is to be "members one of another." There need be no sacrifice of individuality in such a relationship. There should be greater freedom, not less than before mar- riage. Marriage thus regarded affords the greatest oppor- tunity for overcoming selfishness; it discloses new problems from stage to stage, and enlarges in possibilities in pro- 658 Social Organization portion as mere theory gives place to what ripened experi- ence teaches. The great essential is to have an ideal, to start with the expectation of something better than mar- riage entered into by people with little knowledge of what is before them. A Selective Process.-As a recent writer puts the mat- ter, ''marriage opens the door to a full life. It more than doubles the scope and play of experience, but it more than doubles the possibility of utter misery. But all questions of happiness and misery are quite beside the point. ' '18 That is to say, we have been at fault once more in applying the hedonic standard; what we should do is to regard mar- riage as a selective process, taking account of the fact that "the more fit marry," and "only the fittest survive the strains and stress of married life." The most fundamental of our relationships can not be made to depend upon the emotion of love as ordinarily understood. "When it is understood that marriage is life at its full, and both a product and an operating agency of natural selection, it is easy to understand that in every age it will suffer from all the ills that attend upon life itself, and it will suffer too from the pain that is attendant upon the operation of all processes of natural selection. The causes, therefore, of the extraordinary prevalence of divorce in America at this time are to be found in those evils that are the pe- culiar heritage of the age. To name some of them is suf- ficent. The accentuation of competition, the increase of luxury, the higher cost of living, the speeding up of life, the relaxation of conventional standards of conduct on the part of women, the over-insistence of woman upon her rights, have all borne their toll of unsuccessful mar- riages. ' '19 The Spiritual Motive.-From this inner or spiritual point of view much depends on the attitude or outlook on life, what life is said to be for. If for character, if for spiritual development then the value assigned to expe- is Richard Boardman, "Marriage-A Selective Process," in The Atlantic Monthly, Nov., 1923. is Ibid., p. 627. Social Service and Domestic Life 659 rienee is more significant than external circumstance; and there may be said to be a meaning in the kinds of experi- ence in which the given individual finds himself involved. It is for the devotee in any field of service to appreciate, if not to understand this inner situation amidst which the individual in need of help is seeking light. The worker who is guided by this motive will endeavor to reconstruct the inner life of the individual as nearly as possible from within. Such service is possible when there is free con- verse, sympathetic discernment, belief in spiritual reali- ties. There is apt to be a certain fitness or friendly rela- tionship between the one who has this service motive and those who are drawn or attracted by the spirit of the worker. Hence there is a psychology of this sympathetic relationship. This psychology is not often formulated. It is the supplementary psychology which the worker de- velops in his own way. It belongs in a measure with what Professor James called a man's over-beliefs, those that give him real satisfaction and a purpose worth striving for. REFERENCES AddAMS, Jane, Democracy and Social Ethics; Twenty Years at Hull House; The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets, Newer Ideals of Peace. Peabody, F. G., Jesus Christ and the Social Question, 1900, Chap. VII. Devine, E. T., Social Work, 1922. Cutten, G. B., The Psychology of Alcoholism, 1907. Patrick, G. T. W., The Psychology of Relaxation, 1916, Chap. V. Mecklin, J. M., An Introduction to Social Ethics, 1921. Gardner, C. S., Psychology and Preaching, 1918. Higgins, A. C., The Psychology of Nursing, 1921. Laird, Donald, Applied Psychology for Nurses, 1923. Gallichan, W. M., The Psychology of Marriage, 1918. Ellis, H., Little Essays of Love and Virtue, 1922. Williams, J. M., Principles of Social Psychology, Book V. CHAPTER XLI THE PSYCHOLOGY OF RELIGION Interest in the psychology of religion began with the re- searches of Leuba, Starbuck, and their associates, and was greatly fostered by the publication of The Varieties of Religious Experience, 1902, by William James, who made a profound contribution to our knowledge of human na- ture by analyzing typical religious attitudes. James called special attention to the distinction between psycho-physical origins and conditions of religious experience, and the values which may be assigned in view of the results to which such experience leads. There is, in his view, neither a specific religious sentiment nor any given psychical con- dition which distinguishes religious from other experience. Instead of undertaking to describe religious experience according to accepted beliefs, ceremonials, institutions, conventional judgments, or even technical analyses, Janies drew his material from "living" documents, so that repre- sentatives of optimism, pessimism, saintliness, mysticism, and various forms of conversion might speak for them- selves. The divided self and the possibilities of unification were set forth in terms of typical human situations, apart from special interpretations. The conclusion naturally suggested by this great work was that, as religious experiences differ in type, each de- votee is at liberty to believe as he wishes; no experience or belief is absolute or authoritative; and creeds are not so important as they have seemed. By the aid of Myers's theory of the subliminal self it becomes possible to describe and for the most part explain such religious experiences as prayer, and the sense of reality experienced by mystics. Rationalism in religion proves to be a type only, and so it is in a measure assigned to its limited place. Religious 660 The Psychology of Religion 661 values find proper place with other values, in terms of the goals to which experience in general leads. So does religious thought at large. But practical tests take the place of doctrinal standards. Religious biography is given added value. New emphasis is put on empiricism and pragmatism. The Place of Experience.-In contrast with the presup- position of much if not most religious instruction, that doc- trine should come first, then experience, James proceeds from the point of view of the newer psychology, that is, experience precedes thought, feelings and volitions ante- date theories. It is out of place for medical materialism or any other mechanical theory to prejudge religious ex- perience, on the ground that a person is neurotic, has had a vision, or appears to be unbalanced; for it is not a ques- tion of the description of physiological conditions, but of that experience which works best on the whole, is produc- tive of meanings. Religion has intimate personal value; creeds, forms, institutions, are secondary and are likely to be crystallizations. Yet as there is no one religious essence, no specific or peculiar sentiment to which any given de- votee can lay claim, there is no good reason for exalting individual experience as more than typical. Religion con- sists of the individual feelings, acts, experiences which devotees associate with whatever they deem divine; it is belief in the reality of the unseen regarded as a higher order, and may be associated with wide diversity of con- tent. The objective presence may not be there precisely as man conceives it, when trying to account for his experi- ence; but there is some sort of emotional or aspirational attitude connected with his belief, and it is this inner experience which signifies. The varieties of these emotions, attitudes, beliefs, consequences, form the subject-matter of the psychology of religion. Hence there is opportunity for endless descriptions of inner experiences gathered in all walks of life, as in the case of Harold Begbie's accounts of conversions in the slums of London, based on James's work.1 i Twice Bom Men, 1909; Souls in Action, 1911. 662 Social Organization Conversion.-James's study of mysticism and conversion shows conclusively that there is a deep reality in these experiences for the subjects of them. "Whatever the creed, and whatever the idea of God, there are evidently forces outside of the conscious individual which bring redemp- tion into his life. Whether occurring suddenly, or as a matured result, a changed life follows a spiritual awaken- ing. The old interests wane, the conduct of life alters, and a life of devotion takes the place of the life of sin and selfishness. This process of regeneration is describable in part as a change in the center of equilibrium. The change of heart, the awakened center of spiritual feeling, pos- sesses a dynamic for the believer. God, or some other exalted person, may or may not correspond to the inner experience. The human fact is that the change of mind occurs in response to an experience which stands for the divine. The attention is transferred from the old life with its interests, from selfishness and the rest, to a higher center of interest. Around this new center of mind and heart, corresponding changes in the general mode of con- duct group themselves. The subconscious mental life also responds. In fact, the change is largely subconscious at first. For it is in this larger mental life, active below the threshold, that the soul is said to lie open to the unseen order, belief in which is the very basis of religion. ' '2 Definition.-Leuba has collected a large number of defi- nitions in terms of various types of experience and belief. The type represented by such writers as Spencer, Max Muller, Romanes, d'Alviella, involves "the recognition of a mystery pressing for interpretation, " " a belief in super- human beings"; while Schleiermacher, the Ritschlians, and others of a similar type of thought emphasize "the feel- ing of absolute dependence upon God," that "pure and reverent disposition or frame of mind" which we call ' ' piety. ' ' Tiele says that 1 ' the essence of piety, and, there- fore, the essence of religion is adoration." Leuba notes the later tendency to admit that in religion all sides of 2 H. W. Dresser, Man and the Divine Order, 1903, Chap. III. The Psychology of Religion 663 the personality participate. Will, feeling, and intellect are necessary and inseparable constituents. But such statements do not necessarily imply a correct understand- ing of the functional relation of the three aspects of psy- chical life: we need to begin with recognition of the fact that will, feeling, and thought enter in some degree into every moment of consciousness, the unit of conscious life being neither thought nor feeling nor will, but all three in movement toward an object, while the will is primal, and consciousness is always oriented toward something to be secured or avoided. In religion there is always a pur- pose or ideal something to be attained or maintained; it is a particular kind of action, a mode or type of behavior. The action in question, of course, includes the sense of sub- mission or adoration, the rites of propitiation, the overt acts. To limit religion to the question of the origin of the god-idea would be to ignore the motives or desires and feelings by which the gratification of desire is sought; the god-concept is however the chief one. The experiences out of which religious belief grows include states of temporary loss of consciousness, trances, swoons, sleep; apparitions in sleep, in the hallucinations of fever, of insanity; spon- taneous personifications of striking natural phenomena, storms, tornadoes, thunder; and experiences implying belief in the necessity of a Maker. To include all types, that of the religion of humanity, for example, it is desirable to define religion as involving belief "in a great and superior psychic force, whether personal or not," and "a dynamic relation-formal and organized or otherwise-between man and the Higher Power tending to the preservation, the increase, and the ennobling of life," the main point being the conception of the Source of Psychic Energy, whether personified, the passionless Absolute in which all men are said to move and have their being.3 Pratt refines religion as "the serious and social attitude of individuals or communities toward the power or powers which they conceive as having ultimate control over their 3 J. H. Leuba, The Psychological Origin and the Nature of Re- ligion, 1909. 664 Social Organization interests and destinies. ' '4 Thouless maintains that religion is best defined with reference to conduct, a system of be- liefs, and a system of feelings.5 Religious experience is the feeling element in religious consciousness, the feelings which lead to religious belief or are the effects of religious behavior. Religious consciousness is that part of religion which is present to the mind and is open to examination by introspection, hence the psychology of religion is chiefly concerned with this. The psychology of religion therefore is an attempt to express the workings of the mind when religious, in terms of the mental processes which we have discovered in secular psychology. Miss Underhill empha- sizes the fact that in religion there is a changed and en- hanced life which involves a complete re-direction of our desires and impulses, a transfiguration of character; there is often too a sense of subjugation to superior guidance, an access of impersonal strength, a rhythmic alternation between receptivity and activity. The Religious Content.-The starting-point then in the description of religion is the experience of the "psychic energy" on which the various beliefs are founded (Leuba), the psychic energy as "undifferentiated directive force controlling responses and adaptation to environment" (Underhill). The urgent, craving life, in Miss Underhill's terms, is the dominant characteristic of the psyche, with its multiplicity in unity, its consciousness and the uncon- scious.6 The so-called lower nature is not something sepa- rate from ourselves: we are most fully ourselves when impulsive and natural, and the craving activities are welded into one, subject to the same emotional stimulus, directed to one goal. Our superior and conscious faculties are not to be set apart to be called "ourselves," as if we were to refuse responsibility for the animal and less formal tendencies and instincts which surge up with such distressing ease and frequency from the deeps, and as if * J. B. Pratt, The Religious Consciousness, 1920, p. 2. 5 R. H. Thouless, An Introduction to the Psychology of Religion, 1923, p. 3. o Evelyn Underhill, The Life of the Spirit, 1922, Chap. III. The Psychology of Religion 665 these elements could be attributed to heredity merely.7 It is "the whole man of impulse, thought, and desire which it is the business of religion to capture and domesticate for God. That whole man is an animal-spirit, a living, growing, plastic unit. This includes the two Adams: the law of the flesh, with the earth-ward tendency of merely natural impulse; and the law of the spirit, the quickening life of re-directed desire; the archaic and primitive mind along side of the modern in the many-leveled psyche; the life which expresses itself in "sin," which is in essence conservatism or atavism, rooted in the tendency of the in- stinctive life to go on in changed circumstances in the same old way, and the life of virtue with its hard work of sub- limating crude instinct and controlling impulse by such reason as we possess. Conflicts.-The uprushes which used to be called "the solicitations of the devil, seeking to destroy the Christian soul," now figure as the starved and repressed "old Adam" which leaps up into consciousness and glories in its strength. Sin would be retrogression from the point we have achieved in the process of sublimation. Man needs to be rescued from the conflict, "the pull-back of his racial origin," and put in closer connection with "the pull-forward of his spiritual destiny." Man as he stands is mostly full of conflicts and resistances. The direction of our passionate cravings must be changed. This mass of cravings and desires is neither moral nor immoral. We should not restrain, but put the wild beast to work. Our instincts are to be regarded as fixed tendencies, but as adaptable. The first necessity of the spiritual life is the sublimation of the instinctive life, involving the transfer of our interest and energy to new objectives, the giving of our old vigor to new longings and loves. The spiritual man achieves a certain stability which others lack. "In him the central craving of the psyche for more life has reached its bourne. . . . He loves the thing which he ought to love, wants to do the things which he ought to do, and i Ibid., p. 80. 666 Social Organization finds all aspects of his personality satisfied with one ob- jective." Supernormal mystic emotions may enter in, the subli- mation is not always true; there may still be an insidious inner conflict between natural cravings and conscious pur- poses, between instinct and intelligence. Hence there is need of real effort to purge motive, see things more truly, face and resolve the conflict between the deep instinctive and the newer rational life; need of a rational view of life, the universe, God. Psychological knowledge supports the religious demand for a drastic overhauling of the ele- ments of character, a real repentance and moral purgation. A man must know what is in his heart before he is in a position to change it. Psychology shows the danger of keeping skeletons in the cupboards of the soul, the impor- tance of tracking down our real motives, of facing reality, of being candid and fearless in self-knowledge. This agrees with Stratton's constant emphasis on the fact of inherent struggle in the religious life: the self vs. the Supremely Impressive; reverence and hope in contrast with fear and dejection; the inner contest between selves, feelings, and emotions in conflict; the endeavor to choose between the several varieties of truth-since religion is concerned with the full and varied nature of truth, yet there is opposition between beliefs approximating toward the Best, the Good.8 Belief.-Pratt defines belief as the "mental attitude of assent to the reality of a given object." 9 The assent may be articulate or inarticulate. The object is not merely presented, but is acknowledged and accepted as part of the world of reality. There are three types: (1) primitive credulity; (2) intellectual belief, which depends upon the nature of the individual reasoner; (3) emotional belief, the strength being drawn from the field of vital feeling, the motive power and impellent force is enormous because of vital needs, while passion may hinder clear judgment. The attitude of medieval Christianity may be taken as 8 G. M. Stratton, The Psychology of the Religious Life, 1911. 9 The Psychology of Religious Belief, 1912, p. 32. The Psychology of Religion 667 representative of the religion of primitive credulity, Christian mysticism as the type of the religion of feeling; while the rationalism of the 18th century in England is an expression of the religion of the understanding. Pratt calls special attention to the fact that the mature adult mind, having altered considerably the ideas of its child- hood, still clings, in old age, to a belief in something it calls divine. Pratt's investigation of the types of belief in mature life points decidedly to the great preponder- ance of affective experience over reasoning and authority as the basis of belief. Thouless finds the following roots of religious belief: (1) the influence of tradition, childhood teaching, etc. (the traditional element) ; (2) various experiences of the in- dividual which are harmonized by the beliefs which he has been taught, (a) beauty, harmony and beneficence in the outside world (the natural element) ; (b) the moral con- flict (the moral element) ; (c) the inner emotional experi- ences connected with the idea of God (the affective ele- ment) ; (3) processes of reasoning by which the individual subsequently justifies his beliefs (the rational element).10 Suggestion is highly influential in conveying the traditional element. The transition from the conflicts between desires and the moral law, the system of forces reacting against our own immediate desires, is made through belief that the good side of the moral conflict is the expression of the will of some being who is infinitely good: thus the belief in goodness is the intellectualization of the experience of the moral conflict. Under the affective element belong those experiences which involve a sense of the forgiveness of sins, the sense of felt certainty in belief, and the sense of permanence and stability in the divine. The object of rationalization oftentimes is to satisfy our minds that our beliefs are really held on rational grounds. Actual proc- esses of rationalization probably play a less important part than we think. But the term "rationalization" is often used nowadays merely to indicate the poverty of an opponent's argument. io Op. cit., p. 13, 668 Social Organization The Subconscious Element.-In contrast with the inter- est which specialists take in the unconscious, with its ab- normalities, Ell wood Worcester expresses the conviction that the subconscious mind is a normal part of our spirit- ual nature.11 There is, in fact, reason to believe that it is purer, more sensitive to good and evil than our con- scious mind; it is doubtless more generic and in closer contact with the Universal Spirit than reason. Hence its creations may bear the imprint of individual genius. This view suggests Myers's theory of the subliminal self, with its wider contacts, its immediate touch with a higher or spiritual world in which the more real, inner self dwells. Popular thought to-day abounds in beliefs founded on this contrast, and the tendency in this direction has gone so far that (strange to say) sometimes the soul is referred to as "subconscious," to the utter neglect of the demands of ethics. The subconscious becomes a wonder-working re- pository of experiences and beliefs such that one may affirm or claim anything one wishes, send out any kind of religious requisition into the subconscious realm and see it realized. Pratt has pointed out that what is really meant by the appeal to the subconscious is that a man's religion is not a matter of clear-cut processes, but is bound up with his whole psycho-physical organism. "Truly he who loves God, loves Him with all his heart and soul and mind and strength . . . with his body also. Our religion goes deeper into our lives than most things, and is knit up with all that we are. ' '12 Pratt shows that the great source of the content of the subconscious is the conscious, that is, the experiences of the past, of the race, the individual. The Unconscious Element.-Psychoanalysis is being ap- plied to the study of religion in explanation of the inner conflict formerly known as "the conviction of sin," the conflict between the demands of the individual and the code of the group, with special reference to sexual desires and the fighting instinct submerged or repressed in the uncon- 11 Religion and Medicine, 1908, p. 42. 12 The Religious Consciousness, p. 60. The Psychology of Religion 669 scions.13 Religion is now said to be full of idealized sex- emotion, indeed, all religion may have been of Phallic origin. Our strange "alter ego" is said to be deeply rooted in the unconscious, our evils created in the inner psychic life. Psychoanalysis makes us conscious of our own motives at last. More explicitly, Thouless holds that unconscious processes are postulated in order to provide links in our thought, that we may have a connected view of mental causation. Once the idea of uprushes becomes familiar, "wonderful possibilities are open to the writer or preacher to whom flights of imagination are more congenial than clear thinking and the severity of the scientific method. There is no limit to what may be said about the spiritual life by such writers, for in the supraconscious contradiction is as impossible as verification. "14 It is easy to tell about the subconscious germination of something, without any explanation of why it germinated or why it was subcon- scious. Miss Underhill finds the chief value in current teachings regarding the unconscious in the light thrown on our total nature, since religion must regenerate the whole man, since there are possibilities of tapping the unconscious with its resources, bending its plastic shape to our own mold.15 The great need is to get rid of the idea that the unconscious is a separate and in some sort a hostile or animal entity set over against the conscious mind: we should realize that it is our whole personality with the exception of the scrap which happens at any moment to be conscious, that there is need of exploring and mobilizing its powers. We should note the graded character of our consciousness, with its fluctuating level, its inward-looking mind and its outward- looking: (1) the unconscious is the home of memory, in- stinct and habit, sensitive, plastic, accessible to impressions, unforgetting; (2) the fore-conscious is the half-lit region, agent of reverie and meditation at work in day-dreaming and all our brooding states; thought that is dominated not by logic or will but by feeling, achieves its results by 13 W. S. Swisher, Religion and the New Psychology, 1920, p. 10. 14 Op. cit., p. 105. 15 Op. cit., p. 114. 670 Social Organization intuition and has its reasons which the surface mind does not know of. In the fore-conscious is discovered the source of that "intuition of the heart to which the mystic owes the love which is knowledge, and the knowledge which is love," the true home of inspiration and invention. Here, thinks Miss Underhill, is the organ of contemplation, as the realistic outward-looking mind is the organ of action; here, among the untapped resources of the self, lie our powers of response to the spiritual environment; here take place those searching experiences of the inner life which seem moonshine or morbidity to those who have not known them, the power to retreat from the surface, to mobilize fore-conscious energies. Fore-conscious thought is un- checked, illogical, a stream of images and ideas moving toward no assigned end, combined in no ordered chain. The first inward-turning act and self-orientation only is voluntary, in the first stages of mental prayer, in con- centration, when the mind is called from external distrac- tions and the avenues of the senses are closed. Then a logical brooding on a spiritual theme follows, the fore- conscious region is thrown open to the higher resources of life, and powers of perception and response ordinarily latent are roused into action. The cognitions of the fore-conscious are of the nature of pure immediacy, of uncriticized con- tacts; transcendent interest in symbolic forms is worked up, and there is a tendency to think in images rather than in words. Memory and feeling provide the material of the visions, the symbolic pictures of the experience of faith. Mysticism.-Whatever one may think of this distinc- tion by which marginal consciousness is reared into a region known as the fore-conscious, with little stress put on in- terpretations read into the immediacies of experience, Miss Underhill's psychology of mysticism enables the student to coordinate the results of many volumes on the subject and distinguish the main features. As a result of her long researches in this field, Miss Underhill concludes that these "contemplative and intuitive experiences" extend without a break from the simplest type of mental prayer to the most fully developed examples of religious mono-ideism; The Psychology of Religion 671 hence that the mystic is not in a class, mysticism is not supernatural, but the same psychological mechanism avail- able elsewhere is applicable here. Modern psychology is verifiable to a remarkable degree in the literature of mysti- cism in all ages. Thouless also describes mystic experience by coordinating recent terminology with the state called contemplation, the way of purgation, of illumination, and of union. It has often been assumed that mysticism is mere emo- tionalism, perhaps a glorification of sexual emotion, together with confusion between bodily states of heat or exaltation with uplifts of sentiment; hence the one cure has appeared to be thorough-going rationalism. But these acuter analyses bring out the elements of virtue and thought, the endeavor to realize a unifying purpose. Psychology affords no basis for a general disparagement of mystical experience, since psychology to-day takes into account those elements in less emphatic form out of which mysticism has been constituted. Mystic experience has been made credible, it has been brought within the range of experiences with which we are all perfectly familiar. It no longer follows that because a person has had mystic experiences therefore he is neurotic, is suffering from ner- vous disorders, and should be diagnosed by a specialist in psychopathology or sent to an insane hospital. It is in- excusable to-day to prejudge mystic experience by its psycho-physical associates, as if it were a foregone conclu- sion that because an alleged psychopathic personality is religious therefore there is nothing real in the experiences in question. All the psychical elements of mystic experience are distinguishable, apart from pathological phenomena. When the main elements are before us it is a question as we have argued at length elsewhere, of (1) immediacy, the experienced content as psychological analysis discloses it; (2) the region of the mind in which the experiences take place; and (3) the interpretations by which the experi- ences are mediated.16 The immediacies of so-called mystic is The Philosophy of the Spirit, 1908. 672 Social Organization cognition, intuition set up as disclosing a different type of knowledge, are likely to prove illusory; for they are per- fectly well-known instances of a perfectly well-known process of interpretation of perceptions. But mystic per- ception remains as a type to be studied. It plainly occurs in what Miss Underhill calls a half-lit region. It involves beliefs in the realities of religion which should be studied by themselves. The Element of Suggestion.-After what has been said in preceding chapters, we need not dwell on the mere fact of suggestion. The phenomena of revivals are special in- stances of "crowd psychology." In all crowds there is a tendency to break down the inhibitions of action and belief which usually operate to keep people from yielding con- vulsively to emotions, there are opportunities for credulity, an increased sense of power enters in, and the members of a crowd tend to be more primitive in their reactions; and these influences are specially noticeable in religious gatherings, where the singing of hymns, prayer, exhorta- tion, and emotional appeals without logic, tend to generate an atmosphere favorable to suggestion. The general ten- dency of religious instruction is unfavorable to the develop- ment and use of the intellect, save as subordinated to the creed in vogue; doubt has been regarded as sin, and critical investigation is frowned upon except by liberals. Conse- quently, the mind is prepared to respond to suggestion in religious guise. On the other hand, skepticism has been fostered by sug- gestion ; for, apparently, prayer is auto-suggestion, religious experience in general seems to be the work of suggestion, the subconscious mind is a ready servant: why need we postulate any objective reality? The resulting view of life turns upon the notion that the Being whom men have called ' ' God ' ' is really one's own self writ large, all that we need is "within," the inner light is equal to all occasions, the self is practically infinite, if not omnipotent. So suggestlon- ism through appeal to the subconscious tends to rear the mind into a self-operating mechanism independent of the God of theology, of Christ, the Bible. The result is a nega- The Psychology of Religion 673 tion of many of the principles on which religion at its best is founded. Auto-suggestion and Will.-Profiting by distinctions recently drawn by devotees of the Nancy school of sug- gestionism, Miss Underhill has tried to disengage suggestion from all objections and utilize it to the full, by aid of the conception of the fore-conscious, and with due regard for the primacy of the will.17 Since hetero-suggestions are transformed before they become effective; since we ordi- narily take little trouble to sort out incoming suggestions, but allow uncriticized beliefs and prejudices, ideas of hatred, anxiety and ill-health to enter our minds and be- come influential: the will should stand at the door, selecting from among the countless dynamic suggestions, good and bad, which life pours in upon us, those which serve the best interests of the self. We should seize upon and affirm ideas of power, renovation, joy. This is highly important because the fundamental, unreasoning psychic deeps are plastic to ideas, and suggestion, a powerful agent of self- destruction, can become a no less powerful agent of self- advancement. In this way the mechanism of suggestion very closely approaches the mechanism of prayer. There can then be a deliberate throwing open of the deeper mind to influences which tend to realize themselves. Contemplation.-This process involves (1) stilling and recollecting the mind, surrender, a sustained purposeful passivity; (2) need of yielding to a greater inflowing of power, and its regenerating suggestions. "In the deeps of the soul His word is spoken." As we are docile any way to countless hetero-suggestions, some helpful, others weakening, some actually perverting, which our environ- ment is making to us, we can and should be so spiritually suggestible that we will receive the suggestions given us by "all-penetrating Divine life." There will then be an "inward transfiguration worked by a great self-realizing idea," due to "surrender to the vivifying suggestions of grace," and our appropriation and manly use of them. This will involve no "limp acquiescence and merely infantile 17 Op. cit., p. 132, foil. 674 Social Organization dependence, but another aspect of the vital balance between the indrawing and outgoing of power" (Underhill). The Favorable Conditions.-This end is attainable through (1) quiescence, the unconscious is to be laid open to the influence of suggested ideas, the mind recollected, the body relaxed, with a state of maximum receptivity; (2) by aid of the attention, based on right use of the will, not a limp yielding to anything or nothing, "a behavior cycle directed to an end; the mind must receive and hold without discursive thought the idea which it desires to realize; this idea must interest and be real, so that atten- tion is concentrated on it spontaneously," the more com- pletely the idea absorbs us, the greater its transforming power: when it wavers, the suggestion begins to lose ground; the articulate repetition of phrases increases their suggestive power; (3) feeling must be appealed to, for when the idea is charged with emotion it is far more likely to be realized, the function of feeling being to increase the energy of the idea. However much the rational mind may dislike, discredit, or denounce these "vain repetitions," they have the power to penetrate and modify the deeper psychic levels, if they conflict with no accepted belief, if they are weighted with meaning and desire, with the intent stretched towards God, and if the formulas are not allowed to become merely mechanical. The cool, judicious type of belief will, in Miss Underhill's opinion, never possess the life-ehanging power of a more fervid, though perhaps less rational faith. When an idea has been effectively suggested to the unconscious mind, it will always tend to work towards its realization. Instrumental to the above conditions are: obedience, humility, a measure of resignation, acquiescence in belief, and loyal and steady cooperation in the cor- porate religious life. Reason and Suggestion.-It is observable that in thus restating suggestion in favor of the will Miss Underhill steadily passes over to reason as the sure test. There is need of "a clear and vital conception of spiritual ideals," religious thoughts and images must be scrutinized with care, the merely sentimental and weak, the unworthy being The Psychology of Religion 675 rejected, and only the hopeful, manly, constructive ac- cepted; devitalizing suggestions adverse to health and the energy of the spiritual life are to be avoided; the will should give steadfast direction to the desires and acts of the self, keeping attention oriented towards the goal: "the pull of imaginative desire, not the push of desperate effort, serves us best. ' '18 Since the mind is said to accept and transform those suggestions only which conflict with no accepted belief, when "the intellect does not set up resist- ance"; and since it is the intellect which criticizes, selects, and accepts those suggestions which are eligible, the hypoth- esis that the unconscious is "the more fundamental" may be seriously questioned. When our mental development has reached the point where such acute criticism is possible, we may not need to cultivate the "unreasoning, plastic, docile" region of the mind, said to accept any idea without question, but may press on in rational development. It may still be true that most people are more influenced by an accepted than by a rational faith. But if knowledge of suggestibility shall lead to progress, through primacy of will, selection of those ends which best serve the self, the cultivation of the affirmative attitude, the moral is: have a purpose that is worth while, and pass beyond the stage where the mind is open to suggestion. The person who understands his "unconscious" so well, will hardly need to depend on it. Auto-suggestion and Prayer.-Since it is said to be our own minds which transform ideas, make them dynamic, renovating, joy-giving, effective in self-advancement and regeneration in opening the mind to higher energy, in inwardly transforming the self, appropriating spiritual life (Underhill) ; if we consciously have power to call the mind in from external activities, still its adverse tendencies, sur- render any undesirable state, with wisely used attention; adopt the most favorable emotions; select those symbols and images which best focus the attention; and avoid undesirable effort in using a wisely chosen affirmation, it might be argued that prayer is simply auto-suggestion, and is Ibid., p. 150. 676 Social Organization that we now know its complete psychical content. This conclusion would seem to follow if we agree that suggestion is "the fundamental, central activity of our nature," if the unconscious be all that is claimed for it. Psychology has not however justified the conclusion that suggestion is fundamental, and there is marked divergence of opinion concerning the unconscious. Prayer might seem to be mere auto-suggestion, but it could not then be shown on psychological grounds that there is no reality related to it outside the relativities of the worshiper. Psychology is not concerned with the presence or absence of religious reality objective to the devotee; it can at best describe and explain experiences in terms of their psycho-physical conditions, as typical approaches to what men take to be such reality. Its descriptions are likely to be most faithful when made, as by James, in terms of the actual beliefs and attitudes of various devotees, precisely as sense-per- ception is described with reference to the conviction that natural objects really exist. The experience of prayer is described as superior in content and meaning to contemplative experiences induced by quiescence, control of attention, and the use of a formula. Prayer may indeed involve selected imagery, wise effort, a period of receptivity, and have all the pointedness of auto-suggestion. But it may be much more on account of its wider appeal to inner experience and faith, also the conviction that it attains its object, is heard.™ Auto- suggestion is subjective in its effect, is employed with reference to the result produced on the person praying. The implied theory, the ideals of healthy-minded sugges- tionism, and the ideals of religion may not be the same. Prayer at its best may imply clearer thinking, an "uplift of heart and will" not attainable save when the -worshiper directs his aspiration toward the Supreme Being, when he is less self-conscious, is not thinking of the psychical proc- ess. The literature of prayer greatly surpasses that of suggestionism. Auto-suggestion has been regarded as akin to "self- 19 Cf. Thouless, op. cit., p. 161. The Psychology of Religion 677 hypnotism," when it is a question of the teachings and practices of Oriental pantheism, with its notion of absorp- tion in Brahm, its ecstasy of super-consciousness; but auto- suggestion as an element in Christian prayer may be interpreted favorably. Suggestion works both ways, de- structively or constructively. Voices and visions which come from the mystic's own mind in the one case, may have practical consequences of real value in another, and comport with defensible beliefs in the reality and near-by presence of the spiritual world. Doctrine.-It is plain that doctrinal preaching which proceeds on the assumption that true doctrine is prior to and essential to right religious experience implies the old intellectualistic psychology with its neglect of the instincts, impulses, emotions, desires, images, volitions which consti- tute the major part of the human mind. The assumption is that inasmuch as the true Church has the true doctrine, when this doctrine is persuasively taught it ought to be accepted; and when believed it should give rise to true experience. So the religious teacher inculcates doctrine with the implication that the intellect is not only prior but paramount and authoritative. Emotion is appealed to as a means, but chiefly to give quality or tone to doctrine. The will is addressed in some degree, but on the assumption that right belief will lead to right choice and right conduct. Even when a theologian is theoretically convinced that love stands first, that the prime consideration is a desirable prevailing love, he is likely to neglect the primacy of the will in his teaching. This is to neglect also the fact that experience comes before thought, that man is a creature of conations long before he adopts convictions. The psychological order is: (1) needs, wants, desires; (2) then some effort to satisfy them. Religious instruction would need to be revolutionized, to take account of the findings of psychology. Suggestionism has already done this to some extent by appealing to the minds of people where they are: essentially conative, emotional, most likely to respond to a suggestion with an affective tone implying naive belief in the subconscious. 678 Social Organization Christianity.-Many recent writers have undertaken to describe the content of Christian life and faith in psycho- logical terms, beginning with such works as Granger's The Soul of a Christian, and Religion and Medicine (in which Ellwood Worcester and his associates put Christian thera- peutics on a psycho-physical basis). Pym undertakes to trace sin and temptation to the primary instincts, and to indicate how, when sin is once understood, our psychic energies may be sublimated, energies which may be ex- pressed either for self, for sexual gratification, or for the herd.20 Suggestion is found to be incalculable in its influ- ences for better or worse. The use we might make of psychology, especially psychoanalysis, is shown when we endeavor to develop the mental content of sinlessness, the psychology of Jesus's life and teaching. It is within our power to reject evil suggestion and prove conclusively that "evil only becomes evil for us when we accept it and re- express it, when temptation enters the heart and there becomes sin." It is clear that the situation is greatly changed when the process of regeneration is simplified to the question of self-knowledge. Summary.-The crucial point is the distinction between immediacy and interpretation. The religionist has until lately mingled belief with description in over-zeal to per- suade and convert, he has not permitted experience to speak for itself. The better the description of the types of religious experience, the less we appear to need the mediations by which they have been construed. Yet it docs not follow that religious immediacy is illusory or unreal, because psychology is able at last to single it out and show that it does not differ from immediacy in general. For all that psychology can tell us, it may be true that subliminally the mind is associated with another order of reality. Religious writers are now trying to account for all the facts of sin on psychological grounds, and they see great hope in the mastery of the unconscious. But every attempt to characterize the psychology of Christianity inevitably discloses the writer's set of presuppositions. 20 T. W. Pym, The Psychology of the Christian Life, 1922, p. 82. The Psychology of Religion 679 Very few writers have as yet drawn the conclusion from The Varieties of Religious Experience that the obvious procedure is first to describe impartially, dispassionately, the types of experience and then continue on empirical grounds to inquire into the sources, to adopt those inter' pretations which are conclusively needed in order to ac- count for such experiences, testing every belief empirically, rejecting doctrines no longer needed. Myers has ventured to say that if the spiritual world ever existed in close proximity to the experiences of religious devotees it is verifiably present now. This would be an unpleasant hypothesis for many Christian believers to consider, for it might seem to imply that immortality is an empirical doctrine, that revelation had a natural origin in religious experience. REFERENCES Starbuck, E. D., The Psychology of Religion, 1899. James, W., The Varieties of Religious Experience, 1902. Leuba, J. H., The Psychological Origin and the Nature of Religious Experience, 1909; A Psychological Study of Religion, 1912. Pratt, J. B., The Psychology of Religious Belief (bibliography), 1912; The Religious Consciousness, 1920. Dresser, H. W., Man and the Divine Order, 1903, Chap. Ill, The Philosophy of the Spirit, 1908. Inge, W. R., Cfensiian Mysticism, 1899. Thouless, R. H., An Introduction to the Psychology of Religion, 1923. Underhill, Evelyn, The Life of the Spirit and the Life of To-day, 1922, Chaps. Ill, IV. Coe, Geo. A., The Spiritual Life, 1900; The Psychology of Religion (bibliography), 1916. Ames, E. A., The Psychology of Religious Experience, 1910. Stratton, G. M., The Psychology of the Religious Life, 1911. Swisher, W. S., Religion and the New Psychology, 1920. Pym, T. W., Psychology and the Christian Life, 1922. CHAPTER XLII ORGANIZATION OF THE SELF Psychology discloses many clues to the reinterpretation and reeducation of human nature. If there be in every person a tendency to error of a determinate kind and amount peculiar to the given individual for which due allowance must be made, this is a scientific fact; and there is no reason for condemning an individual for possessing it. If every person has a "blind spot" in regard to some aspect of life, no one is able to cast the first stone; and wre may supplement one another so as to minimize our limitations. There are individual differences to allow for, temperamental factors, and variations of the original nature of man. What we call "human nature" in the adverse sense makes itself known under well recognized conditions: in organizing people to do a piece of work where objections readily suggest themselves; in putting on a film play or a regular drama; where the "artistic temperament" enters, for example, in grand opera; amidst the irritations of domestic and business life; in the case of the tired teacher, the overworked mother, the boy who has been out late too many nights in succession, the business man worrying over his affairs. We learn in time to make allowances for bodily states, late hours, and the other influencing conditions. No one is perfect, and no reasonable person expects per- fection. The difficulties are often due to the fact that in our over-confidence, and American zeal for undertaking whatever we wTant to do without acknowledging limitations, we frequently fail to make allowances for hampering con- ditions for which no one person may be to blame. It might be difficult for people to accept the judgment of psychol- ogists who determine the mental age, for we like to believe 680 Organization of the Self 681 ourselves intelligent enough to accomplish anything. But in any event the results of a given level of intelligence are not facts for which we can reasonably attribute blame to the individual. Dualities.-Enlightening reasons for duality of self have been found in the facts of mental dissociation, wTith the probability that dissociation of personality can be over- come, even when there is a Dr. Jekyll and a Mr. Hyde. Even sin may sometimes be regarded as excess due to inverted values requiring a readjustment, which may now be made without condemning the self. Self-assertion is no longer described as if it were the original instinct of human nature, to the neglect of the gregarious tendencies, some of which imply altruism. The duality of egoism and altru- ism belongs with human nature at any stage of develop- ment. The tension between them is an expression of the vital energy which prompts to multiform action. If any writer tends to place too much emphasis on any one phase of life, instinct or some critic calls attention to another tendency. For instance, Glutton-Brock directs attention to self-esteem as more powerful and constant than the sexual instinct, far more difficult to control, and far more troublesome; as more fundamental, our chief obstacle to happiness, and to excellence of any kind: a vast part of ourselves is just vanity-far vaster than the part that is instinct or appetite.1 Clutton-Brock holds that we are born with faculties and capacities meant for exercise, and failing in this, the self becomes exorbitant, thwarts the faculties. Hence the problem of life is the release of the self from its own tyranny, our vanity and pride being due to some unsatisfied need of our minds: somewhere there is suppression of some kind, our egotism being cov- ered up by good manners. "Our egos are exorbitant because they do not succeed in getting themselves born." But the moral of Clutton-Brock's tale is that deeper knowl- edge of the duality of our nature is what we need. Selfishness.-William James classified the primacies of self-feeling thus: (1) self-complacency, including pride, 1A. Glutton-Brock, The Atlantic Monthly, Dec., 1921. 682 Social Organization conceit, vanity, self-esteem, arrogance, vainglory; (2) self- dlssatisfaction, including modesty, humility, confusion, diffidence, shame, mortification, contrition, personal despair, self-distrust.2 Self-seeking and self-preservation belong with the fundamental instinctive impulses, which James divides into: (1) bodily self-seeking; (2) social self-seek- ing; and (3) spiritual self-seeking. Our self-feeling is in our power to control: we can eliminate things and activities taken into the self; wre can give up pretensions; and live better with what is left. Instead of proceeding, with the Stoics, by exclusion and self-denial, we may take the way of sympathetic people, who proceed by expansion and in- clusion. A certain amount of bodily selfishness is permis- sible, then the physical activities can be subordinated; and so on up the scale of values. A man is selfish by over- doing one of the self-seekings, for example, bodily self- seeking, grabbing the best food, the warm corner, the vacant seat; or in social self-seeking, seeking popularity of influ- ence greedily; again, through spiritual self-seeking, by ascetic saintliness. Bodily Selfishness.-Selfishness in its most palpable form is bodily. A man identifies his body with himself, because he loves the body, not that he identifies it with himself. What a man's comrades call his bodily selfishness or self-love is only the sum of the outer acts which this interest in the body spontaneously draws from him; his "selfishness" is here but a descriptive name for grouping together the outward symptoms which he shows (behavior). When he is led by self-love to keep his seat while women stand, or to grab something first and cut out his neighbor, what he is really loving is the comfortable seat, the thing itself which he grabs. He loves these primarily as the mother loves her babe, or a generous man his heroic deed. The simple instinctive propensity is only a name for certain reflex acts: something rivets attention fatally, and fatally provokes the "selfish" response. My thoughts, like my acts, are here concerned only with outward things. The more blindly absorbed in this primitive way, the more devoid 2 Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Chap X. Organization of the Self 683 is my thought of any inward glance. James's analysis certainly opens a highly promising prospect to those who wish to overcome bodily selfishness. Self-love.-James finds no reason to suppose that self- love is love for one's mere principle of conscious identity; it is love for something for the time being; it runs back at its root to a partiality essential to self-existence, the certain minimum of selfishness which enables us to survive. So too James thinks my own spiritual powers must interest me more than those of other people. He finds no reason for calling either the egoistic or the altruistic feelings fundamental or central; these feelings are coordinate fac- tors in our evolution, on the same psychical level. The egoistic are larger in the mass. According to this analysis there is no "faculty" of selfishness, there is no mere self- love ; we have no ground for condemning instincts essential to self-existence and propagation. The odds may be in favor of the self-seeking tendencies; we find and judge them to be self-seeking, because we possess the other-regard- ing tendencies. So we are given opportunity through experience to select and emphasize the other-regarding. The end, according to this analysis, in which James is throughout constructive, might be harmonious coordina- tion between all our tendencies, according to a standard or scale of values in terms of a purpose. Hence one might connect this analysis with the religious motives of love to God and love for the neighbor: I should then love my self and its powers only so far as might be wise, that I might fulfill my part in realizing the Divine purpose. Remaking of the Self.-Again, promising light is cast on conversion, as investigated by students of the psychology of religion. Conversion no longer appears to be a sudden change, but a result of a gradual process: (1) old desires have waned, old instincts have found their place; new desires have come into power, and the expressions of the instincts have been sublimated; (2) repressions have been overcome in a freer mode of life; (3) conflicts have ceased, and power once lost in friction has been utilized; (4) potentialities long unrecognized have been realized; (5) a 684 Social Organization new standard of life has come into view. The old traits have not been cast out, but have been put in new relations. No element has been destroyed, but new values have been assigned all along the line, with a different combination of characteristics. There is unity where there was once discord. Unity of Self. -The foregoing chapters have suggested several promising lines of development toward unity. The so-called unconscious (Freud) is to be made conscious and enlisted. There is to be unity between will and the imagina- tion, attained through discovery of the fact that sometimes imagination triumphs over will (Cone). Possibilities of union between will and understanding increase with knowl- edge of the sources of both, as our powers emerge into the self-conscious stage. When dissociations are overcome there should be greater possibilities of retaining unity once for all. Unity grows with the discovery of what we can best do, when we find our places, learn our intelligence level; when we cease trying to make ourselves what we are not, and try constructively to be what we are. Unity increases also with our power to organize our activities toward the realization of a purpose, with emphasis on what we will to be rather than on the origin of our powers; on the goal rather than on the conditions. It is important then to ask: What needs to be organized? What is it in us that organizes ? Acquiring Habits.-We have also found various pro- ductive clues in our studies of habit. It is useful to look back and note how we acquired some of the habits which we now realize to be "second nature." There are two ways of taking opportunities to form habits, followed by people of different temperaments: (1) plunging in at once, making a big venture, the daring wTay, without fear; (2) observing, taking the opportunity when it offers, breaking in gradu- ally, stage by stage, increasing the ventures. In the begin- ning one "gets the idea," by noting how a person drives a car, by paying attention to details, separate activities, thinking the thing out, coordinating the details. Then one tries through more or less painfully self-conscious ef- Organization of the Self 685 forts; one rests, giving the organism time to assimilate the several motions; and after a time one tries again. Then a sharp contingency arises; the mechanism works, and one sees that the organism may be depended upon. A new activity, such as learning to drive a car, may have given one command over timidity or nervousness: one made the effort and conquered. There was plainly necessity for being "on the job," with alert concentration. For the moment, the process of driving seemed complicated, with so many matters to attend to simultaneously. But the new sequence of motions once learned, the whole became a new co- ordination. Mental Habits.-So too there is a sequence in learning other types of habit. There is first a sending out of the mind in the desired direction, with a mental picture of the end to be attained, with detailed ideas; then a period of experimenting or trying, followed by rest and readjust- ment or assimilation; next, renewed efforts which make the process with its attendant ideas our own. Our efforts are dependent on (1) interest, love for the end sought; (2) trust in the mind's power to attain its ends, its power of assimilation, when not interfered with; (3) the relating of this idea or process to what one has previously accom- plished. Mental ability acquired in one field can be trans- ferred, with modifications, to a new field. The process of trying to establish a new activity is stimulating, because it involves grounding the idea or activity in the concrete; life or experience adds an element which no mere theory can convey. The mental side of habit is a coordinating power: acquiring the idea, developing the method, acquiring the system. Thus we coordinate ideas and deeds to form character as 1 ' the habit of virtue. ' ' Overcoming Habits.-A recent writer on psychoanaly- sis describes his experience in trying to catch an old habit in the process, that he might analyze it away.3 He read somewhere the account of a crew imprisoned for a time in the Arctic regions, with a scarcity of supplies, especially tobacco. In the intensity of their desire to smoke, when 3 A. J. Ralph, How to Psychoanalyse Yourself, 1921. 686 Social Organization all their tobacco was gone, members of the crew put almost anything, such as bits of rope, into their pipes. Reading this and realizing the power of the habit of smoking, this analyst resolved to give up the habit of smoking of many years' standing, a habit which had many pleasant associa- tions on account of the special thought he had given to the selection and preservation of pipes. Keeping his re- solve, and breaking off suddenly and completely, this self- critic found to his amazement that no lurking desire to smoke, no habit to analyze away was left: he never smoked again, and had no struggle to pass through at all! What is the psychological explanation of this? The analyst does not venture to make it, but it is simple: many of our habits have outlived their usefulness and the desires which led to them, and we simply "go through the motions" because we have gone through the motions. In idea we fear that the habit has too great a hold upon us, to break it off, and so we do not even try. But we might overcome habits with as great ease as in the above instance. By the time a man is so interested in self-improvement as to will to give up the habit of smoking, with its indulgences, he has already in idea given up that habit. The rest follows as matter of course. Overcoming Emotion.-We have noted that from a be- haviorist point of view emotion is a "pattern-reaction" involving changes of the bodily mechanism. Fear, rage, love (with Freudian "sex") are early types of emotional reaction. The human organism is built to react in emo- tional ways (inherited modes of action). The behaviorist hesitates to say that all emotions are useful; they may be useful at times. We are left with the question: At what times, and how? Some people assure us that as "emotion is life" it is not to be tampered with, we would care little for experience without emotion, notably in the case of dramatic emotion, aesthetic emotion. We have noted above that some temperaments are essentially emotional in type. Psychologists are apt to insist that emotion is just itself, it ceases to be emotion when you distinguish it from bodily reaction and try to intellectualize it. Some people tend to Organization of the Self 687 throw the whole self emotionally into an experience. Our keenest sensitivity is apt to be emotional, vivid and com- pelling. But many emotions are intensely personal, and in their effects baneful. In the case of jealousy, anger, bitterness, hatred, and other intense or coarse emotions we suffer very detrimental results, and the social consequences are no less harmful. Highly emotional persons are apt to be intensely personal, if not self-centered; they are apt to relate whatever they experience to themselves, to take offense, fly into a passion; they resent the actions of others, deem themselves insulted. Again, highly emotional persons may be full of eligible impulses, but may make many mis- takes. They allege in excuse that their emotions are strong, deep; that is, they have never learned to moderate their emotions, to eliminate some and foster others; they have never organized their emotions according to a scale of values. An emotion, such as jealousy, may be so absorbing that one is exhausted by it; it may interfere with orderly conduct; may unbalance, in the case of hate. How shall one moderate, control, or eliminate emotions? By noting, for one thing, their causes, conditions, and con- sequences; the excesses they involve, the nervous disturb- ances which accompany them, the selfishness they foster, the misery they bring, in the case, for example, of hate directed by one people against another in war-time and in cherishing resentment to make ready for another war. If I am placed among people in distress, I naturally emulate the physician and the nurse, whose occupations encourage them to moderate and organize sympathy, pity, compas- sion. The bodily accompaniment is often so pronounced that it is naturally regarded as the entire emotion, notably the clenched fists, the flushed face, the violent emotions which express rage; but one may distinguish and acquire habits leading to the elimination of such reactions by first tracing them to their inner sources. If I am "swept off my feet," it is because I permit it, by failing to examine the mental conditions of this emotion. It is within my power to substitute higher forms of emotional expression. Yerkes suggests a classification of emotion with reference 688 Social Organization to (1) moods (wonder, irritation, kindliness, chagrin); (2) weak emotions (surprise, aversion, friendliness, mortifica- tion) ; (3) strong emotions (astonishment, anger, liking, resentment) ; and (4) passion (amazement, rage, love, exasperation).4 What emotions are eligible in this list? Miss Calkins indicates the possibility of indirectly check- ing, modifying, or stimulating emotions.5 Emotion is an important, inevitable constituent of life; but emotions are positively harmful if they interfere with essential habits, and when they do not stimulate to active consciousness through volitions and beliefs. Emotion is not then an end in itself, but is significant only so far as it is an incentive. If it issue in no action, is turned upon itself, it may seri- ously inhibit the future. Thus indulgence in emotion may be the actual starting-point in nervous and mental disease. To realize the distinctions which Miss Calkins draws, one would need first to consider what emotions are eligible in accordance with one's purpose in life, then arrange those that are deemed worth while in a scale, with hope taking the place of fear, love replacing hate, and confidence sub- limating anxiety. Miss Calkins seems inclined to regard pleasure as a test of value. She is on surer ground when emphasizing altruism as the test. Our whole study of social psychology has aided us in placing altruistic emotions. Thought.-Consciousness is to be distinguished from thought in the eligible sense. To be conscious might be merely to indulge in day-dreaming, subject to the mech- anism of a sex complex. A reverie may be mere abstraction. Strictly speaking, thought is intellectual activity directed toward an end, and is distinguished from feeling and its associations. When I think I note facts, laws, conditions, relations: I start at a point and endeavor to make progress despite distractions which make inference, judgment, and reasoning difficult. The more successfully I think, the further I depart from caprice, eccentricity, personal senti- ment; while seeking to formulate a conception which all may agree on who make allowances for the personal equa- * Introd, to Psychology, 1911, p. 182. 3 A First Book in Psychology, p. 218, foil. Organization of the Self 689 tion, note the facts without bias, and refer to original sources by way of verification. We awaken from experiences in which we have merely lived without analyzing into a state in which we become aware that thinking is going on, and that by thinking we may understand the hitherto neglected or unwitting. We feel towards a thing before we think about it; hence mere "knowledge of acquaintance" comes in time to be "knowl- edge about" (James). Since we always go forward to new moments of experience, never recover the old experience (save as object thought about), we realize that "experience is remolding us every moment." What we seek then is to bring our ideas into new focus, with wiser selectiveness. Our interest as thus expressed implies will or love, and thus our study of thought passes over to our study of love, with reminders of the preceding conclusions regarding self-love. The Two Minds.-Recent psychological thought has tended to contrast the subconscious and the conscious. A much older contrast is between what the Apostle Paul called the "carnal" mind and the "spiritual," the term "mind" here being used in a representative sense by way of antithesis between bodily desires and spiritual ideals. To Paul the lower mind was not by any means the uncon- scious, but an adverse element, warring in his members, so that,, as he put it, when he would do good evil was present with him. What he willed to do, that he might overcome the conflict, he failed to accomplish; and what he did not will to do, that his carnal mind wrought despite his will. It is doubtful if any phraseology has ever equaled this in vividness of description. The advantage is that it puts the whole matter before us. Recent psychology has greatly enriched our knowledge of the content of the "carnal" mind, and we now understand its unruliness, in the light of evolution, the original nature of man, and the various conflicts to which the self is subject. Again, the Pauline phraseology is superior, 'because it puts what the Apostle calls the "mind of Christ" over against the carnal, with the conviction that within man there are powers of victory equal to the occasion. 690 Social Organization A man's spiritual nature is discerned by an interpreta- tion put upon a portion of his nature. Psychology does not disclose a "spiritual mind," but endeavors to describe and explain mental life as a whole in naturalistic terms. Yet we frequently find social psychologists using terms which imply a contrast between higher and lower. Every refer- ence to a scale of values implies such a judgment. Human thought has for centuries tended to set off one "mind" against another, and to eulogize one while indicating that the other is a problem. The most suggestive way, perhaps, is to classify certain of our tendencies and mental states as likely to be immersed in material things. The "mind of the flesh" belongs with the externalities. But the tenden- cies which a man identifies with what he morally and spiritually wills to be he calls "inner," and so the inner life in general comes to have special meaning for him. Very many will still prefer this contrast of outer and inner to the newer one between the subconscious and the conscious. In the last analysis both are interpreted con- trasts within consciousness. We are not unaware of the carnal mind. We needed no Freud to tell us its relation to the libido. What we needed was the acute analysis of modern psychology to put its content before us in a prom- ising way, so that we could tell what it is that needs trans- mutation. Psychology has not much concerned itself with the con- tent which each man attributes to his "spiritual mind" according to his belief. But this idea of the spiritual mind is likely to sustain the man who contends that his spiritual mind represents his consciousness rather than his less- conscious mentality. For a purpose or ideal is unintelli- gible unless conscious. A man is at liberty to agree with Myers that the self is interiorly connected with regen- erative energies. His thought then has something more tangible to seize upon than in the case of belief in sugges- tion, operating in the subconscious; for he places more emphasis on dynamic psychology. Will and Understanding.-There is a way of putting the relationship between inner and outer in our mental life Organization of the Self 691 which some have found practical, namely, by identifying will (in the sense of what one loves most) with the interior region of the self (the spiritual mind); and consequently regarding the spiritual mind as that portion of the self which most directly receives spiritual energies. This ac- cords with voluntarism in psychology (James). The understanding is then described as less interior, as receiv- ing energies from the will, and in turn conveying energies into the external activities of the mind. This agrees with recent emphasis on the intellect as coming after experience, as practical or instrumental; not first in time. But it is plain that for most of us the central conflict is between will and understanding, not between will and imagination, as Cone would have us believe, or between the unconscious and the conscious. The great coordination to be sought above every other, within the self, is between ''heart" and "head," will and understanding. What this conflict is, religion shows us, not psychology thus far. But psychology may well be concerned with the implied ideal, namely, that there shall be union between will and understanding such that a wise prevailing love, worthy of being developed into the future life, shall bring the long-sought unity which organizes the self into moral and spiritual consistency. This would be the attainment of harmony between egoistic and altruistic tendencies. Recent psychology gives ground for hope that there is no element of our nature which can not be utilized. The ' ' carnal mind ' ' then is an antithetical mind put over against the self while one is in straits only, asking with Paul, why it is that when we will to do good evil is present with us. The antithesis is overcome with the discovery of the origin, nature, value, and place of this mind's content. It is not till we resolve the antithesis between will and understanding that we clear up the mys- tery in all its fullness. What a man really loves, he will pursue; what he wills, he tends to attain by adopting means to ends. Love or will is fundamental. No sugges- tion is powerful enough to work changes save so far as love changes its objects. We need not think much about the unconscious or subconscious, when we see the power of will 692 Social Organization as manifest in purpose. When will or love changes, the rest of the mind changes automatically. Will thus understood controls the profoundest "action-system"-to borrow a term from behaviorism. But will in turn is dependent on thought, is developed in detail through the understanding, is criticized and benefited by reason. So-called intuition passes into insight, when it becomes rational. It is reason which gives form, coordinates. The ideal mind is ration- ally coordinated into a system dominated by a purpose. Remaking Human Nature.-We may look back over the whole field once more with Hocking, who has called attention to important distinctions which we often fail to make, with reference to this process of remaking human nature. Man undertakes to reshape himself, while reshap- ing his outer world, that is, with conscious intention, as a self-conscious being: nature has made us; social action and our own efforts must continually remake us. Hence the problem: (1) What is original in human nature? (2) What do we wish to make of it? (2) How far is it possible to make of it what we wish? Human possibility then is a problem. For example, what can be done with divorce, with war, with political corruption, with prostitution, with superstition ? Do we know what we want ?6 This is at first a question of types, for example, the liberator as disciplinarian, trying his hand at solving the problem. Hegel, for example, failed to convince us of his scheme; for he supplied "no clear way of distinguishing between a better and a worse." 7 It is far from clear that we can expect to discover by any empirical survey what positively and definitely we want to make of ourselves. In Part II of his work, Hocking considers the whole question of the natural man, the element of instinct, its range, bal- ance, variety of pattern, and coalescence. He finds that "units of behavior" sometimes appear, interests develop out of the central instincts. But while in these necessary interests we have the most significant, we also have the most obscure of the original tendencies. The instinct of g Human Nature and its Remaking, 1918, Chap. Ill, 7 Ibid., p. 26, Organization of the Self 693 man is Protean, but more suggestively so is the human will, which Hocking refers to, so far as it is embodied in in- stinct, as "the will to power." Many questions about mind and body still remain unanswered, for example, the concept of energy which always stands at the elbow, with promise of solving riddles. The Solution.-In Part III, Hocking's study of con- science and the Christian ideal takes us partly beyond our present field. Hocking finds that conscience stands outside the instinctive life of man as "an awareness of the success or failure of [the instinctive] life in maintaining its states and its growth. ' '8 The sense of sin still has pragmatic force: it does not quite work to omit it as a factor; con- sciousness is not a "canceling ground," but the region in which opposites are preserved. Crudity and sin are of course not identical. Sin is 1 ' the refusal to interpret crude impulses in terms of the individual's most intelligent will to power." It is "the deliberate failure to interpret an impulse so that it will confirm or increase the integration of selfhood." Sin may be analyzed, and in a measure described, but can not be explained; since explanation would mean necessary or invariable sequences of certain conditions.9 Having shown thus definitely what sin is, Hocking con- siders the agencies of remaking, for example, in the case of pugnacity. He concludes, from his study of the instincts, that there is good argument for greater freedom from social constraint. On the whole, custom "continues the direction of development struck out by individual experience, and facilitates it." That is, of its own nature society is not primarily repressive; while in actuality society has been and is repressive. Hence, whatever in institutions tends at any time to deform human nature should be freely sub- ject to the force of dissatisfaction naturally directed to change them.10 Many of the social forces at work simply tend to civilize man, while it is left to religion to save him. Yet society has always had its religion in some form, a 8 Rid., p. 99. 9 Rid., pp. 103, 105, 175. io Ibid., p. 221. 694 Social Organization principle of devotion which has preserved the social tissue. In general society saves or conserves as much of a man as can find valuation. The sources of value are to be pre- ferred above all specific values that flow from them. Naturally then Hocking's investigation leads to a con- sideration of what Christianity requires of us. Christian- ity reveals no solicitude for the necessities of the social order. Its precepts are explicit: resist not evil, love your enemy, judge not, recompense evil with good; Christianity intends to impose upon pugnacity the interpretation of a creative impulse. Love is the best agent for the instruction of pugnacity, it is capable of complete sublimation: the transforming of ambition is the conferring of the spiritual life.11 The Unifying Terms.-When we have made headway in developing an ideal of the self as highly organized, the next point to be gained is to introduce unity into the varying conceptions of mental life which have come before us in the preceding chapters. Gault prepares the way for this unifi- cation in part by using the term "behavior" to include any kind of psychic adjustment, conscious or unconscious, of the organism as a whole; and by using the term "social behavior" to include automatic or unconscious adjustments or social habits.12 Under "social habits" would of course be included imitation, suggestion, the phenomena of the crowd, the influence of public opinion, and the like. Be- havior studied in this broader sense implies the idea that awareness of social unity or of belonging together is funda- mental. We agree with Gault in maintaining that this consciousness of social solidarity in the community affords a more intelligible constructive clue than the notion of a "group mind" distinct from each individual in the group. In Gault's terms, "the whole course of transition from the individual to the social is within the individual himself." 13 It then becomes a question of social motives through 11 Ibid., p. 375. 12 Social Psychology, 1923, pp. 3, 5. See, also, E. L. Thorndike, Animal Intelligence, 1911, p. 15. 13 Ibid., p. 25. Organization of the Self 695 which I become aware that I am a unit in a group, the term "motive" being understood as inclusive of complexes and habits, with their drives. "In short, we conceive of every commanding and persisting influence as resting upon an established complex in our nature which is normally interwoven with many others and with our original nature. "14 In this larger sense of the word ' ' complex ' ' each of us has his political complex, his civic complex, his philanthropic, religious, moral, educational, his occupa- tional complex, with their opposing complexes. For each of us it is a question of motivation. The Conscious Element.-The paradox of our situation in life is that while all our acts spring from motives, and a motive is supposedly nothing if not conscious, our motiva- tion is for the most part unwitting so far as present ex- perience is concerned. We are reaping the consequences of what has gone before. The process goes on automati- cally. The less awareness we have of the mere process, the better; for self-consciousness is an interference, it tends to make us subjective, and in the case of introverts it keeps them from overcoming their introversion. And yet to pro- gress we must become aware of our motivation, and all our decisions with reference to the future are necessarily con- scious. The moral of the tale our life has told is not that we should increase our suggestibility and lapse more and more into the "subconscious," but that we should become more highly selective. For each of us is developing a pre- vailing love which is making us for better or worse, and nothing takes the place of conscious effort. The intelli- gent man makes less and less of the subconscious, as his intelligence increases; since his attention must be given to wiser thought and wiser conduct, as he endeavors to do his part constructively in his group, to contribute what he can best give. When the highly self-conscious work is well done the subconscious will take care of itself; for after all our life is a sharing of a Life ■which is larger than our own. Causes of Personal Tendencies.-A. Clutton-Brock takes radical exception to the tendency to reduce all elements of 14 Ibid., p. 57. 696 Social Organization personality to the dead level of determinism.15 The false assumption is that right processes are caused in the same way as the wrong. But the cause of true beliefs and right processes in the mind can not be discovered. True beliefs have reasons, not causes. The Freudians tend to deny the difference between right and wrong processes of the mind. The sexual instinct is said to be dangerous when disguised; this and other instincts can control the mind only when it is unaware of their control, when they act as hidden causes, even of thought, mastering and perverting the spiritual activities. This tyranny is to be overcome, as fears can be ended, by becoming aware of it. But while the Freudian method is intended to make us aware of it, hence to appeal to some other power in the mind which is stung into action as soon as it sees its enemies, the psychoanalysts indicate no such power. Hence it is apparently the instincts which are to become aware of themselves: no self becomes aware of them. The Freudian appears to think that when the instincts become aware of themselves they control them- selves. Here we see the absurdity and inconsistency of the Freudian position; for, clearly, instincts, by themselves, are not capable of consciousness: something else must be conscious (or unconscious) of them. Consciousness is con- sciousness of the conflict or concert of the instincts. We need to pass beyond the psychoanalytic position to recog- nition of the fact that the living part of us, both physical and mental, is always liable to be overcome by a mechanical process; it is this invasion and conquest of life by not-life which is to be called evil, whether it takes the form of disease, error, sin, or aesthetic perversity. This criticism clearly shows the difficulties in which we are left by the ' ' new psychology. ' ' Summary.-Throughout this investigation we have placed emphasis on intelligence, on the conscious factors, because it has seemed probable that the Freudian "un- conscious ' ' and the subconscious at large will have abundant recognition, and that the real problem after all is "Evil and the New Psychology," The Atlantic Monthly, March, 1923, p. 298. Organization of the Self 697 is the coordination of the unconscious or subconscious with the conscious. Granted understanding of what Rivers has called the unwitting, proper emphasis on the instincts, the sexual nature in general; due recognition of the profound suggestibility of human nature; and acquaintance with the deeper processes whereby our ideas are newly associated, and the way in which creative work goes on-then the real problem of life will be much the same as before: the wise selection and organization of eligible processes and ele- ments. It will then be a question more than ever of intelli- gence-in selection, in wise control, in systematic recon- struction or remaking. And the process which goes on in the enlightened individual should be extended through wiser social organization and control. We have also placed emphasis throughout on purpose (McDougall) and drive (Woodworth), rather than on the Freudian libido or the elan vital of Bergson, because the term purpose in this dynamic sense pertains to a higher category, and once more implies emphasis on consciousness and intelligence. In social psychology, we have found the more enlightening clues in Ellwood and Wallas, and in Patten and Cooley suggestions of social reconstruction and control. The resulting conception is the Christian ideal of corporate relationship, or the Grand Man, with emphasis on the spiritual mind, the need for development of a wise prevailing love, the realization of a purpose through which each gives his best. The possibility of realizing this ideal, and attaining peace among the nations, with no more war, depends on understanding, on knowledge of all trouble- making elements, and on the willingness of society to profit by this knowledge. REFERENCES Clutton-Brock, A., The Atlantic Monthly, Dec., 1921; Mar., 1923. James, W., Principles of Psychology, 1890, Vol. I, Chap. X. Yerkes, R. M., Introduction to Psychology, 1911, p. 182. Calkins, M. W., A First Book in Psychology, 1914, p. 218, foil. Hocking, W. E., Human Nature and its Remaking, 1918. CHAPTER XLIII CRITICAL PROBLEMS Recapitulation.-Looking back to Part One, we note that for general psychology the unit is experience, ana- lyzed into its elements in terms of habit, association, memory; involving vital energy or drive; and implying, in the view we adopted, cognition, conation, and affection. We may adopt J. S. Moore's recent summary of psychoanalysis with reference to the subject-matter which came before us in Part Two. (1) Every mental phenomenon has a mental cause, conscious or subconscious (psychical de- terminism) ; (2) the unit of mental activity is not the single idea or sensation, but the complex-a group of emo- tionally toned ideas with a definite trend; (3) personality is ideally an integration of systems of complexes, all har- monious with one another in trend; but actually there is in every person some degree of disharmony and of disin- tegration; (4) all abnormal, unhealthy, or unideal behavior is traceable originally to a conflict between complexes or systems of complexes and the remainder of the personality; (5) the fundamental conflict is between the libido or total conative trend of the subject and the censor, which seeks to inhibit the expression of that libido.1 The facts con- cerning mental conflict are undeniable, and it is a question of rival interpretations. In any event, the "complex" of psychoanalysis is a phase only of our total mental life; the unconscious or subconscious is to be understood and coordinated through profounder self-consciousness. As the self is affected as a whole, as it thinks as a whole, and wills as a whole, so it may come to act as a whole through coordination of all its elements. If mental activity con- tinues during sleep, it is a low minimum: on the whole 1 Psychological Review, Nov.,. 1923} p. 461. 698 Critical Problems 699 the evidence favors the view that obstructions are removed during sleep, and we seem to have thought subconsciously because we return to work with fresh interest, after rest. In Part Three, interest centered about (1) intelligence, as native capacity or ability for meeting new situations, and as determinable by mental tests; and (2) intuition, as creative perception in discernment of character and as leading the way in invention or new productivity in the industries. In Part Four, the situation became explicitly social: instead of the Freudian censor curbing the libido, we considered the instinct of the herd tending to check any activity on the part of the individual at variance with custom, fashion, conventionality, public opinion, tradition: the self is now in the social arena, where ideals of sym- pathy, love, loyalty, the beloved community, are contrasted with self-interest. The unit is the social self, gregarious, tending toward the crowd: instead of the concealed ' ' com- plex," war is the most marked expression of conflict. In Part Five, we have found the conative trend to be on the whole in favor of organization, with possibilities of re- making human nature through education, ethics, religion. In this work of remaking, intuition is likely to play a leading part; for intuition discloses wholes, essences, con- structive values. Social intuition, working by aid of im- agination and creative reason, seeks an adequate social system, doing justice to all elements, a beloved community worthy of the highest loyalty. Ethics adds to the psy- chology of the self the moral reality of the self, as basis of ethical judgments, possessor of moral intuitions, con- science, responsibility, and (for indeterminists) freedom. Religion adds the spiritual reality of the self, with its re- ligious beliefs, insight into the eternal values, and possibly connected through inner experience with a higher order of reality. Philosophy adds the metaphysical reality of the self, coordinates the findings of psychology, ethics, aes- thetics, logic, religion. Mind and Body.-We seem to have omitted an im- portant link in developing the connections between mind and body, with regard to the organization of the self, 700 Social Organization namely, the influence of the mind on the body. But present-day psychology is almost solely concerned in trac- ing mental life as produced from without, as conditioned by the brain, determined by nervous mechanism: the po- tentiality for mental development (native intelligence) depends on the structure of the brain cells which condi- tion mental processes. We find little or nothing in works on psychology about mental life regarded from within, as inhibiting, controlling, organizing by means of spiritual activity. It is difficult to adopt this point of view without rehabilitating the soul. There would be no advantage in regarding the self as subconscious (with popular thought) ; for, as we have repeatedly noted, the deeper phase of our selfhood accepts whatever is given it without discrimina- tion: a bad suggestion "takes" if it gets by; a bad asso- ciation readily operates; memory accepts what we give it; one complex is as acceptable as another, when it has passed the censor-the whole process goes on mechanically. Our only safety lies in criticism, in more acute consciousness. We in vain expect the "subconscious mind" to do work for us which we are unwilling to do for ourselves. Noth- ing takes the place of responsibility, effort, the need for self-criticism. Again, popular thought fails to take account of the fact that all efficient mental states must be grounded in brain states and become bodily deeds. We have found no evi- dence that there is a spiritual spontaneity which can originate new directions of volition: at best will in the form of acute attention gives emphasis to a preferred tendency already given; it is selective, not creative. If we are to advance beyond this position it must be by means of belief that the soul is open to a higher form of energy, and it would then be this energy that produces spiritual changes, not the soul as such. One step in the direction of such a belief easily leads to another. If, for example, telepathy is accepted as a fact, it would be a simple matter to believe in lucidity (clairvoyance), clairaudienee, and other phenomena implying the conviction that the self has various "spiritual senses" functioning independ- Critical Problems 701 ently of cerebral conditions; and then the conclusion would seem to follow that Myers's theory of the subliminal self is called for, to account for the data of psychic phenomena. One would have a precedent to follow in introducing this theory as a principle of psychological explanation.2 We agree however with psychologists who omit this issue, on the ground that it is a metaphysical question. Psychology does not undertake to complete the conception of the self. It leaves the problem of the relation of consciousness to a real world in space and time to metaphysics, and this prob- lem must receive some sort of solution before one shall be in a position to consider the equally difficult question of the relation of the self to a non-spatial world, said to be disclosed by psychic phenomena and religious experience. Presuppositions.-The ordinary assumptions of psy- chology are these: (1) an external world of matter and motion, or of energies, existing in space and time, and con- stituting the mind's external environment; (2) organized bodies behaving in a certain manner indicative of mental action; (3) a plurality of minds distinct from one another, and from things in space, each mind being in a certain relation to a body; (4) immediate knowledge by each mind of its own states; (5) knowledge of the world of spatial and temporal objects acquired by inference from these perceptual states, regarded as intimately associated through the brain with events in that world. Out of these assumptions may grow a theory that each mind has its representative images of things, and can not attain to the things themselves. As the mind knows the world, it is a complex mental experience built up out of mental elements, and not the real external world at all. Or, one may hold that the mind is not shut up in the realm of its own experiences, but directly knows an ex- ternal world of things: the world given in sense-perception is already objective, spatial; "feelings of relation" (James), disclose real relations in the world about us; with James and many other psychologists, we may agree 2 Cf. James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 511; A Pluralistic Universe, 1909, p. 299. 702 Social Organization that belief tells us truly when it assures us that we actually know the presented world. Granted this belief, we pro- ceed to develop our physics, chemistry, and the other special sciences, each of which starts with its assumptions, such as a system of energies, real in space and time. The conceptions of law, the uniformity of nature, and the conservation of energy seem to establish this belief beyond all question. But this is also a metaphysical question. Psychology does not undertake to settle the vexed issues of theories of knowledge: it leaves the matter in the stage of "belief." The psychologist stops with the presuppo- sitions necessary for his special science, although some who disavow metaphysics indulge occasionally in meta- physical propositions. As soon as we depart from the world of accurate scien- tific description and consider religion, we find that the relation of belief to reality is very different. On scientific grounds, the immediacies of any kind of experience what- ever can be described on the basis of fact; but popular thought does not distinguish between experience and what it is interpreted to mean. Belief creates its own universe of discourse, according to the point of view. Reality for the average mind is whatever is believed: it is little more than appearance or relativity. Granted the initial assump- tion, it is psychologically clear how people come by their beliefs; but psychology is not called upon to follow the course of thought into each one of the many universes. Agnosticism.-It is an easy step from such considera- tions to agnosticism. If, with Drever and other critics, we question the assumption that there are two different kinds of knowledge, conceptual and intuitive, and find that in- tuition is not unique, but is based on experience and is an instance of perception; we find that we have completely undermined the psychological basis for believing in ' ' reve- lation" as different in kind from so-called "profane knowl- edge." Learning that all knowledge is conceptual, we find that spiritual knowledge is empirical knowledge rendered sacred by tradition, sustained by ecclesias- tical authority, and made familiar by habit or cus- Critical Problems 703 tom. Thus a creed, no longer rationally defensible, may still be repeated as "a value for worship," in much the same way that hymns with antiquated sentiments are still sung because we like the music. Still further, sectarian differences may be regarded as removed from the sphere of knowledge altogether, each in its little ' ' pseudo-environ- ment" which the members of the sect carry about in their heads. The particular exegesis on which a creed or system of theology is founded is a tradition to be preserved by the sect in question, and it is true for those only who acquire the given tradition. The sophisticated clergyman knows this and admits it to esoteric members of his group, but meanwhile he ''preserves the faith" on which his organization and his occupation depend. It is fitting then for the psychologist to describe the values which occupy the prominent place in the human mind once dedicated to absolute systems. Religion becomes for the modern rela- tivist "the conservation of values." In India, centuries ago, these matters were conveniently grouped as "conces- sions to the worshiper. ' ' Once granted a clue to the way the mind acquires its traditions and values, it becomes clear that love of these matters is greater than love of truth or zeal to know reality. For example, a sectarian interpretation of the Bible is preferred to the endeavor to discern what is eternal in contrast with the transient, what is universal rather than what is merely particular; and thousands of devotees pre- fer a faulty translation of the Bible, because "it was good enough for our fathers and mothers," and because we prefer the English of the authorized version with all its errors. Psychological knowledge also shows the work- ing of the mind in preserving sacred texts produced by scribes differing from one another in type. Modernism has now gone so far that it is almost impossible to support the traditions, unless it be on the ground that we should conserve these "values" for the sake of the children, that they may have the benefit of the poetic myths in the Sunday-schools, just as we wish that they shall for a time believe in the reality of Santa Claus. 704 Social Organization It is an historical error however to attribute all this relativity to psychology; since the modern critical move- ment with its consequences is larger in scope, and has in- cluded a variety of motives. The churchman who has one set of views for the initiated and another for his congre- gation may be intellectually dishonest, and subject to economic determinism; or, he may conscientiously work to sustain the faith because he believes the religious world would be the loser if we were to drop out antiquated hymns, cease to recite the creed, and depend on impartial scholar- ship in interpreting the Scriptures. If philosophically en- lightened, he may hold that there is no longer any reason for looking to religion to tell us what is metaphysically real; but may be content to set forth a group of doctrines for the simple reason that they bring results. In short, for both shepherd and sheep a doctrine may be deemed true nowadays because it "works"; hence pragmatism, not psychology, is the explanation. Over-beliefs.-This satisfaction with ideas that apply sufficiently well to the given situation is obvious in many walks of life to-day. Every social group has its traditions, hallowed by association, confirmed by repetition, and sus- tained by personal leadership. In war-time, morale is developed by appeal to the idealized flag, the name of the country, the national hymn, and by means of slogans. When the war is over we realize that all this was worked up for the occasion. To-day, President Wilson is praised because "he kept us out of war"; to-morrow, because (once in the war) he is making the world "safe for democracy." But presently our values find new objects. In the truer sense, it is our over-beliefs which make life worth living. Love itself is often a value rather than an emotion, involving as it does the family, the home, the associations to which we cling and which we endeavor to sustain at any cost. Love compasses a wider region in our life than the sphere of reason, and the content of life's daily values is to a considerable extent supplied by the irrational, from the realm of our desires, pleasures, pref- erences, interests. Critical Problems 705 Aesthetic Values.-The same is true in the domain of aesthetics. "Values spring from the immediate and inex- plicable reaction of vital impulse, and from the irrational part of our nature. The rational part is by its essence relative; it leads us from data to conclusions, or from parts to wholes; it never furnishes the data with which it works. . . . Beauty is a species of value. ... A first ap- proach to a definition has therefore been made by the exclusion of all intellectual judgments, all judgments of matter of fact or of relation. ' '3 In the case of the arts, it is plain that we carry to the theater, for example, that consciousness of values which enables us to appreciate a Shakespearean drama, just as we bear within us the need for emotional expression which brings about what Aristotle has called "catharsis." The arts lift us into "the world of appreciation," in contrast with "the world of description" of the special sciences.4 A few touches here and there, a few properties, and what we call "atmosphere" is created. The aesthetic part of a religious service is paramount for many of us, and we retain outworn elements of dogma and ritual because we still find satisfaction in the aesthetic whole. This is a very significant fact for psychology, in contrast with the prone- ness of critics to judge solely by the antiquated creeds and theological systems, and absurd interpretations of the Bible. Valuation.-"The word 'religion' stands in the main for a psychical state in which feeling and need, fear and hope, enthusiasm and surrender play a greater part than do meditation and inquiry, and in which intuition and imagination have the mastery over investigation and re- flection. "5 In the golden age of the world, to be sure, religion satisfies all the spiritual needs of man, including his thirst for knowledge; but time changes, science appears, religious ideas lose value for knowledge, and "valuation of existence" takes the place of the effort to comprehend 3 G. Santayana, The Sense of Beauty, 1896, p. 19. 4 J. Royce, The Spirit of Modern Philosophy, 1892, p. 395. 5 H. Hoffding, The Philosophy of Religion, trans. 1906, p. 1. 706 Social Organization existence. Hence, in Hoff ding's terms, the core of re- ligion comes to be the conviction that no value perishes out of the world: for many centuries religion has been a form of the spiritual life in which the race has stored up its deepest and inmost experiences. This is why religion has become ''the conservation of values." Leighton points to the fact that "valuation is the most persistent and characteristic attitude in human nature. Man seeks to acquire and retain knowledge, power, wealth, comfort, fame, love, and friendship, because he values these things as experiences. ' '6 The reason is found in the fact, psychologically speaking, ''that man, in the various aspects of his cognitive and active relations to the world, is a being guided by selective preferences or interests. These preferences, in the last analysis, are derived from feelings, from the emotions and sentiments which consti- tute the affective complex which is the self considered as a center of feeling and source of valuation, choice, and volition." All intrinsic values are located then in the conscious lives of selves or persons: the status of values in the universe of reality is the status of selves.7 Thus a large field of interest is disclosed at the point where psychology pauses and philosophy takes up its greater work. For idealism as for the plain man the self is real; its identity persists, and hence there is a perma- nent basis for the conservation of values. It by no means follows, because a phase of experience is classified as a "value," that it is any less real. For idealism as for religion the eternal values are supremely real. But ideal- ism distinguishes between instrumental or mediate values, and intrinsic or immediate values. Many of the values we question in the field of religion are merely instrumental or transitory. Religion that has withstood criticism en- deavors to conserve those values which are universal, es- sential, those which are judged to belong to the universe of reality. Criticism.-Psychological criticism is not new in the 6 J. A. Leighton, The Field of Philosophy, 1923, p. 471. 7 Ibid., p. 473. Critical Problems 707 world. It has been doing its sophisticating work ever since Xenophanes called attention to the fact that people painted their gods according to their own color. The Sophists were psychologizing critics, in their insistence that '"man is the measure of all things." But then good fortune gave the Greeks one of the greatest moral men of genius of the ages, Socrates, and universals were distinguished from mere particulars. Relativity appeared in Italy long before the term became popular. Bacon did his best to set men free from their "idols," but still we cherish them. Locke, Hume, Kant, Fichte, and many another philosopher has made it clear how we come by our convictions, our belief in "revelation." Then came the new criticism of the Scriptures. Lippman's distinction between the pseudo- environment and the real environment, with his references to the pictures we carry about in our heads, corresponds to distinctions which have been commonplaces for ages in the philosophical world. Lippman's work tends to awaken the mind out of its dogmatic slumbers; so does Martin's searching study of the crowd; Trotter's keen analysis of the herd; Dewey's emphasis on habit. But the world always survives. Very few people take such reflections seriously enough to see what they might lead to. Liberal congregations are still small, despite all the criticism of the ages. The appeal to reason is necessarily slow, since we have not as a race reached the age of reason. What reaches popular thought is the after-effect, for instance, of the critical movement which began with Kant; then the alarmists start something like "Fundamentalism" to try to offset it, totally ignorant as they are of the real significance of either Kant or Darwin. Pragmatism.-The central issue turns on our willing- ness to accept a belief merely because it "works," and this problem of knowledge is psychological in so far as prag- matism is an outgrowth of the newer psychology, with its emphasis on activity or conduct where emphasis was once put on cognition. Experience is said to be primarily an affair of doing: the living creature undergoes, suffers the consequences of its own behavior; and knowledge is relc- 708 Social Organization gated to a derived position, secondary in origin, no longer regarded as something separate and self-sufficing.8 Ac- cording to this view, the senses lose their former position as the gateways of knowledge, to take their 1 'rightful" position as stimuli to action, as urgent but not cognitive in quality; sensations are emotional and practical rather than cognitive and intellectual; knowing, judgment, be- lief are acquired results of the workings of natural im- pulses with environment; deliberation is an experiment in finding out what the possible lines of action are really like; choice is simply "hitting in imagination" on an object which furnishes an adequate stimulus to the recov- ery of overt action, it is made ' ' as soon as some habit . . . finds a way really open. Then energy is released. The mind is made up, composed, unified." "We are always biased beings, tending in one direction rather than another. . . . Choice is emergence of a unified preference out of competing preferences. Rationality ... is not a force to evoke against impulse and habit. It is the attainment of a working harmony among diverse desires. Reason, the rational attitude, is the resulting disposition, not a ready- made antecedent which can be evoked at will and set into movement. ' ' 9 Dewey suggests an advance to a belief in a plurality of changing, moving, individualized goods and ends. The practical meaning of a situation will then be something that is not prejudged but will have to be searched for. It will no longer be regarded as self-evident. There are plainly conflicting desires and alternative apparent goods. Hence inquiry must come first, observation of the detailed make-up of the situation; analysis into its diverse factors; clarification of what is obscure, discounting of the more insistent and vivid traits; tracing the consequences of the various modes of action that suggest themselves; regard- ing the decision reached as hypothetical and tentative until the consequences are seen. This means a change from following rules and fixed ends to the consideration 8 J. Dewey, Reconstruction in Philosophy, 1920, Chap. IV. 9 Human Nature and Conduct, pp. 192, 196. Critical Problems 709 of ills that need remedy. It may then appear that there are many ends to be pursued, such as health, wealth, honor or good name, friendship, aesthetic appreciation, justice, temperance, benevolence. Such ends will not be sought in general; for action is always specific, concrete, indi- vidualized, unique. The question how to live healthily or justly is " a matter which differs with every person. It varies with his past experience, his opportunities, his temperamental and ac- quired weaknesses and abilities. Not man in general, but a particular man suffering from some particular disa- bility, aims to live healthily, and consequently health can not mean for him what it means for any other mortal. Healthy living is not something to be attained by itself apart from other ways of living. A man needs to be healthy in his life, not apart from it, and what does life mean except the aggregate of his pursuits and activi- ties?" 10 Moral goods and ends exist only when something has to be done. The fact that something has to be done proves that there are deficiencies, evils in the existent situation. This ill is just the specific ill that it is. It never is the exact duplicate of anything else. It is also the part of wisdom to gather together the ills for consideration from which all men suffer. The pragmatic import of the logic of individualized situations is that each has its own irre- placeable good and principle. We should not reduce some goods to the level of the merely instrumental, while others are called "intrinsic." Economic goods, for example, are not merely instrumental, but as intrinsic and final in their place as any others. Then they become capable of ideal- ization. Religion and other "ideal" ends are now thin and meager because of separation from instrumental and economic goods. Nor should we discriminate in favor of moral goods, like the virtues, and rational goods, like health or economic security. Dewey's conclusion is that no past decision or old prin- ciple can ever be wholly relied upon to justify a course io Ibid., p. J 67, 710 Social Organization of action. No amount of pains taken in forming a pur- pose in a definite case is final. We still have lessons to be learned from our mistakes and our sins, lessons in wrong methods of using intelligence, and instructions as to a better course in the future. There is always need of re- vision, development, readjustment. The ends we pursue are growing. Our standards of judgment are being im- proved. Growth itself is the only moral end. Society is many associations, not a single organization. Nor is or- ganization an end in itself. Society, in brief, is the process of associating in such ways that experiences, ideas, emo- tions, values are transmitted and made common. Our Opportunities.-Our inquiry does not then lead to skepticism: it shows the need of more searching analyses of the systems, methods, habits which society has trans- mitted to us. Many of these have outlived their useful- ness, and we are simply going through the motions because we have gone through the motions. Conduct is still the test of what we really believe: if we really love our neigh- bor, we do something to benefit him. If we are serious in our desires to regenerate the world, we will profit by the findings of psychology concerning the actual motives of human nature and the possibilities of its remaking. As yet, we have hardly begun to formulate the psychology of regeneration, we scarcely know our moral and spiritual possibilities. If we had a science of our higher nature as workable as Freud's technique in his special field, we might make remarkable headway. On psychological grounds we can not, of course, de- termine what is truth. Yet psychology can disclose the actual content and structure of human nature and human experience, and indicate the way up to the point where moral judgments, religious values, and a metaphysical system are to be added. It helps us to see what beliefs are outgrown, and discloses a multitude of activities tend- ing toward promising goals. The more thorough our psy- chological beginnings, the better will be our systems and values. We need never stop where mere naturalism ends: psychology is no more able to disprove consciousness with Critical Problems 711 its higher values than the successive materialisms which have tried, since the dawn of atomism in ancient Greece, to prove that thought is a product of the brain. Nor need we stop with the uncertainties of pragmatism. Possibly reason is more than "instrumental" after all. We may sometime have philosophers with the constructive power of Hegel whose systems will overcome the defects of Hegel's idealism. The pluralism of ends may be seen to belong to one system. The work of philosophy may still prove to be the highest which the human mind can achieve. But no contribution is likely to come from psychology in this direction till psychologists overcome the habit of keep- ing so close to the ground, devoting nearly all the time to studying the beginnings of mental life, and leaving scarcely an hour for our higher nature before their lectures come to an end. At present, psychology is more likely to be suggestive of mere naturalism than as implying a new rationalism. Many of the best books leave us with mere relativities, with skeptical implications. There appears to be an endless series of fictitious universes of discourse, pseudo-environments, and pictures of the world which we carry about in our heads; or else an endless contrast be- tween our world of values or ideals, and the world of facts. On the psychological level there appears to be no way of escape from these relativities. In the world of human conduct, however, we find people advancing to higher standards which will presently find place in our social psychology. Thoughtful people are steadily looking forward to some kind of world-court or league of nations in which all nations shall participate. In time we may understand the psychology of nations and of international relations, as we now understand the psy- chology of individual types. We may then find our way to real cooperation among the nations, in place of balance of power, jealousy, hatred, war. Knowledge is power, and from real knowledge to actual cooperation is a pos- sible step. Such knowledge is likely to be ours when we are perfectly ready to learn the complete psychology of war. 712 Social Organization There are also possibilities which point beyond the isola- tions of the old-time patriotism. Eventually we may see our way to the maintenance of what is best in a given nation while that nation also becomes a member of the nations in an organic way. Psychology suggests that progress is always by way of individuating love or loyalty, by concrete and definite ways of advancement, never by mere universality. Patriotism is not to be discarded, but transfigured, just as each nation is likely to keep its lan- guage instead of inventing a new so-called universal language. A new internationalism rearing itself on hatred for capitalism and imposing itself on the world would probably be no better than the rule of Lenin and Trotsky. We are not likely to sublimate all politicians and profiteers by a leap into a totally different situation: narrow par- tisanship and greed imply far-reaching motives to be reckoned with and readjusted. The experiment with pro- hibition suggests that the way to deal with human nature is through gradual enlightenment which will bring entire satisfaction, not by paternalism. All our powers are to be utilized, not repressed. Man does not change his be- lief or his conduct till his prevailing love changes. When we come to love truth, the right, God and the neighbor more than we love worldly possessions and material rule, we will be able to find a way to substitute cooperation for selfishness. The growth of our scientific knowledge is likely to lead to the conclusion that cooperation is the only wise course to pursue. Meanwhile, every student of psy- chology with a vision of a moral equivalent for war and selfishness can live in spirit as a member of the Great Society, doing his part to usher in the new order. If he believes that in spiritual reality we are already "members one of another," he is at liberty to interpret the facts which social psychology discloses with this standard in mind. Critical Problems 713 Santayana, G., The Sense of Beauty, 1896, Part I. Hoffding, H., The Philosophy of Religion, trans., B. E. Meyer, 1906, Chap. Ill, D. Paulsen, F., Introduction to Philosophy, trans., F. Thilly, 1896, Chap. I (4-7). Marvin, W. T., A First Booh in Metaphysics, 1912, Chap. XXII. Leighton, J. A., The Field of Philosophy, 1923, Chaps. XXV- XXVII. Fullerton, G. S., A System of Metaphysics, 1904, Chap. II; An Introduction to Philosophy, 1906, Chaps. VIII-XI, XVII. Dewey, John, Reconstruction in Philosophy, 1920. James, W., Pragmatism, 1907; The Meaning of Truth, 1909; A Pluralistic Universe, 1909, Chap. V. Partridge, G. E., The Psychology of Nations, 1919. Pillsbury, W. B., The Psychology of Nationalism and Interna- tionalism, 1919. REFERENCES INDEX Abnormal, 158-160; investigation of, 164 Academic mind, 604 Acquired characters, 569 Acquisition in habit formation, 43 Action, rudimentary, 34 Adams, H. F., 363 Adaptation, 52; of the individual, 144 Addams, Jane, 646 Adjustment, function of, 10 Advertising, 581; defined, 363; essentials in, 362; honesty in, 350; productive, 360; psycho- logical factors in, 360 ; reasons for, 361 Advertising manager, function of, 368 Aesthetic values, 705 Affection, terminology, 59-61, 72 Age, mental, 516 Age of reason, 7 Agitators, 466 Agnosticism, 702 Alpha test, 285 Altruism, and sympathy, 433; as an attitude of mind, 580 Amar, J., 305 Amnesia, 238 Amusements, 618 Anger, as a cause of war, 547; as the germ of moral indigna- tion, 410 Animal and human minds, 7 Anthropology, 557 Anxiety, 227 Apperception, 109 Appleton, W. A., 590 Applicants for employment, in- terviews with, 269; ratings and tests, 271; treatment of, 272 Applications of psychology, 3 Aptitudes, 320 Arbitration, international, 555 Army tests, 285, 290 Artisan, 339 Artist, 343 Artistic type, 138 Assemblies, 599 Assertion in relation to success, 350 Assets of the individual, 10 Association, 79; laws of, 82; of objects, 81; purposive, 85; scope of, 82 Association mass, 80 Association method in obtaining evidence, 534 Athletics, 616 Attention, 19, 93, 107; derived, 97; dynamic, 97; effects of, 97; factors of, 95; fundamen- tal law of advertising, 361; voluntary, 96; see also Con- centration Attention values in advertising, 364 Attitudes, 274 Autocratic type, 137 Auto-intoxication, 199 Automatisms, 162 Automobiles, 618 Auto-suggestion, 182-183; and will, 673; as an element in prayer, 576 Awareness, 11 Bagehot, 417 Baldwin, J. M., 417, 577, 612 715 716 Index Baudouin, Charles, 182 Begbie, Harold, 661 Behavior, and conduct, 638; and education, 622; and play, 614; and suggestion, 176; as a clue to character, 272; in animals and man, 23-24; intelligent, 23 Behaviorism, 6, 8-13; and eco- nomics, 384; merits of, 11; ob- jections to, 11-12 Belief, 702; defined, 110; limits to, 113; tests of, 112 Belief, religious, 456, 666; roots of, 667 Bergson, Henri, 14, 90, 323 Beta test, 285 Bigelow, John, 229 Bible, criticism of, 640 Binet scale, 515; origin of, 283; results of, 286 Biological point of view in psy- chology, 7 Blackmar, F. W., 434 Blackmar and Gillin, 558 Bogardus, F. S., 342, 382, 419, 450, 542, 600 Bolshevism and propagandism, 499 Boston Herald, quotation from 639 Brain and mind, confusion of terms, 159 Brain-worker, term out of date, 124 Brewer, J. M., 316 Brill, A. A., 215 Brisco, N. A., 370 Broad-mindedness, 461 Brooks, J. G., 590 Bryant, Mrs., 134 Burnham, A. C., 354 Burt, C., 627 Business, independent, 353; quali- fications for, 354; getting a start in, 354; vision in, 356 Buyer. See Customer Calkins, M. W., 69, 103, 222, 229, 439, 472, 688 Carpenter, W. IJ., 39, 95 Cassatt, Alexander, 338 Censor, psychic, 210 Chapman, J. C., 275 Character, and emotion, 135; definitions, 10, 133; described as interpenetration of habits, 387 Character judging, 269; by be- havior, 272; by habits, 273; insight as essential quality for, 324; old methods in, 326 Character types, 136-139 Charity, 433 Charters, W. W., 373 Child, unconscious mind of, 629 Childhood, psychology of, 206 Children, backward, 627; gifted, 627; tests of, 283 Christianity, 438, 694; corporate ideal of, 642; interpreted psy- chologically, 678; social mes- sage of, 582 Civil service examinations, 295 Clans, 465 Claperede's view of sleep, 220 Class consciousness, 605 Clutton-Brock, A., 681 Co-consciousness, 233 Codes, 508 Cognition, 117; and conation, 51; and habit, 393 Collective soul, 480 College education, aim of, 603 College students, 602 Colvin and Bagley, 623 Common people; 566 Common sense, 502 Complexes, 158; definitions, 205, 698; definition by Rivers, 243; description of, 190; suppressed, 208 Conation, defined, 24; scope of, 51; terminology, 50-51 Concentration, 347 Condition, defined, 21 Conduct, 5; contrasted with be- havior, 15, 638; the test of belief, 710. See also Ethics Conflict, 406; and habit, 15; commercial, 580; educational, 583; elements of, 579; family, 581; sectarian, 582. See also War Conflicts, inner, 204 Conformity, 436 Congregations, 606 Index 717 Conscience, 635 Conscious, and unconscious, 228; coordination of unconscious with, 697 Consciousness, 154, 166; acute, 245; and learning, 623; and mechanism, 46-47; defined, 45, 150; functions of, 49; levels of, 205; loss of, 151; sphere of, 236 Consciousness, theory of, defects in, 13 Conscientious objectors, 552 Conservatism, 126, 397, 576 Constructiveness, 334, 344 Contemplation, religious, 673 Convention, 420, 451 Conventionality imitation, 449 Conversion, religious, 662, 683 Conwav, Sir M., 485, 545 Cooley' C. H., 403, 432, 438, 487, 503, 564 Cooperation, 712; ethical ideal of, 643 Cooperation between schools and industries, 316 Cooperative management, 250; obstacle to, 581 Coordination, defined, 9 Coordination of psychological principles, 121 Coriat, I. H., 163, 189, 194 Cortex of the brain, 7-8 Coueism, 182; merits of, 185; objections to, 185 Counseling, 316; methods, 319; qualifications for, 317; various factors in, 319 Courage, defined, 473 Court practice, 533 Craftsmanship, 339; instinct of, 335 Creative ability, defined, 342 Creative impulse, 335 Creative instinct, 338 Creeds, 703 Crime, alternating personality as cause of, 523; causes of, 514, 521; defined, 519; repressions as causes of, 523; responsibil- ity for, 519; unconscious ele- ment in, 522. See also Delin- quency Criminal, grudge against society, 525 Criminal psychology and ethics, 637 Criminality, mental basis of, 521 Criticism, 706 Crowd, 423; and war, 545; be- havior of, 488; defined, 488; egoism of, 491; elements of, 485; emotions of, 488; enthu- siasms of, 486; intellectual ele- ment in, 491; opinion of, 486; pseudo-social in attitude, 490 revolutionary elements in, 4^1; unconscious factors in, 489. See also Herd instinct Crowd action, 600 Crowd problems, 601 Crowd spirit and propagandism, 499 Cults, 607 Culture, defined, 558 Custom, 158; 420; conformity to, 452; defined, 446; sources of, 446 Customer, 372; analysis by sales- man, 374; meeting objections of, 375; mental state of, 373; sizing-up, 375 Decision, 100, 105 Degeneracy, 516 Degenerate families, 514 Delinquency, association with mental deficiency, 512; types of, 513. See also Crime Democracy, and fashion, 455; and revolution, 493 Department stores, 373 Desire, 49-50 Desires, 135 Determinism, 637 Dewey, John, 273, 341, 387, 394, 446, 478, 487, 708 Dickinson, Z. C., 384, 448 Dictatorship, 596 Discrimination, 28, 30, 108 Dislike for work, element in labor turnover, 329 Disposition, 128, 131; as basis of human nature, 390; defined, 35 Dissociation, 162; definition by 718 Index Rivers, 243; normal and ab- normal, 163 Divorce, ethics of, 654; causes of, 638; legal aspects of, 538 Doctrine, 677 Dominant abilities, 321 Dominant interests, 327 Dreams, 221; analysis of, 223; as thoughts, 222 ; content, 222; fulfillments, 225; infantile ele- ment, 226; manifest content, 224 Dress, 453; determining factors, 454, sexual motive for, 453 Dresser, H. W., 301, 303, 662 Drever, J., 32, 323, 404 Drive, 13-14, 412; content of, 413 Dubois, P., 179 Dubois' method, 195 Dynamic psychology, 13-14 Easy-going type, 136 Economics and behaviorism, 384 Education, aims of, 628; and be- havior, 622; and heredity, 626; and intelligence, 294; and mental tests, 627; based on old psychology, 4; conflict in, 583; consciousness as factor in, 623; defined, 620, 625; essential function of, 583; process of habit-formation, 621; problems of, 625; psychological tendency in, 619 Education and business, antagon- ism between, 336 Efficiency, mental, 299-315; and habit, 300; effect of environ- ment on, 313; effect of indus- trial discontent on, 310 Efficiency, personal, 291, 310 Efficiency, vocational, 317 Efficiency movement, changed from economic to psychological interests, 2 Effort, 41 Egoistic emotions, 472 fflan vital, 14 Elementary schools, vocational guidance in, 318 Ellis, H., 223 Ellwood, C. A., 383, 418, 421, 433, 438, 446, 449, 452, 479, 504, 543, 567, 574, 595, 597 Ely, R. T., 589, 591 Emotion, 63, 72; and impulse, 68; and instinct, 70; as self- realization, 69-71; bodily re- sponses to, 64; personal, 66; receptive aspect of, 70; repres- sion of, 65; results of, 67-69; Warren's definition, 68 Emotional expression, 69 Emotional types, 138 Emotions, caused by organic con- ditions, 67; classification of, 688; control of, 686; subtler, 66 Employees, rating of, 330; selec- tion of, 260; tests for, 268 Employment interviews, 269 Employment management, 264- 282 Employment manager, duties of, 265 Emulation, 436, 450 Environment as a factor in effi- ciency, 313 Errors, importance of in psycho- analysis, 207 Esprit de corps, 472 Ethical standard, 566 Ethics and reason, 635; basis of, 632; contrasted with psychol- ogy, 632; a normative science, 632; present-day reaction against, 638; social content of, 637 Evidence, 536 Evolution, principle of, defended, 640; theological objections to, 607 Evolution, mental, 6-7, 399-415 Examinations, school and college, 287 Experience, 19; defined, 625; effect on behavior, 400; how determined, 32; perceptual, 20; psychic element of, 152; trans- mission of, 624 Experimental method in psy- chology, 5-6 Extroversion, defined, 125 Factory work, training for, 329 Index 719 Family, in the social organiza- tion, 560 Family rivalry, 581 Familiarity, 449 Fashion, 420, 449; French, 454; mandates of, 455 Fatigue, and interest, 308; and sleep, 220; causes of, 304; de- fined, 303; mental aspects of, 307; laws of, 305; physiology of, 304; psychological experi- ments on, 305; results of, 304 Fatigue neurosis, 193, 194 Fear, 101; and faith, 199; an impulse rather than an emo- tion, 68 Feeble-mindedness, 512; causes of, 515 Feeling, use of term, 56, 71 Feelings, organic, 57-58; as back- ground, 58-59 Fixation in habit formation, 43 Fletcher, J. G., 343 Fore-conscious, 669 Foster, W. Z., 499 Free speech, 504 French revolution, 491 Freud, S., 164, 180, 203, 206 Freud's contributions, 214 Freud's method of psychoanaly- sis, 207, 696 Freud's theory of sex, 211; criticism of, 212 Freud's view of dreams, 223; criticism of, 226 Froebel, 611, 620 Gallichan, W. M., 649, 653 Games, 615 Gault, R. H., 694 German propaganda, 496 Germany, industrialism in, 336 Giddings, F. H., 562 Ginsberg, M., 480 Glands, in relation to personality, theory of, 12, 130 God-concept, 663 Goddard, H. H., 289, 291, 513, 628 Good-will, in selling, 374 Great Society, 391-397 Green, T. H., 133 Gregariousness, 261, 412 Groos, Karl, 612 Group minds, 2, 478; McDougall's view, 482 Group spirit, 484 Group tests, 285 Group will, 470 Groups, 478-494; and crowds, 485; national, 484; organized, 483 Gymnastics, value of, 616 Habit, 14, 235; and character, 387; and conduct, 53; and con- flict, 157; and custom, 447; and efficiency, 300; and ideas, 387; and skill, 341; and will, 42; as a clue to character, 273; behaviorist theory of, 38; in- strument, not source of drive, 16; James' theory, 39; mean- ing of, 44r-45; not a sufficient basis for social life, 392; rea- sons for, 40; value in conduct, 40-41 Habit-formation, 39, 42-44, 621, 684 Habits, overcoming, 685 Habituation, 448 • Hall, G. S., 475 Happiness, defined, 411 Health and work, 347 Healthy living, 709 Hedonism, 633; objections to, 385 Hell, fear of, 606 Herbart, J. F., 620 Herd, influence of, 407 Herd instinct, 405. See also Crowd Heredity, 7-8; and education, 621; and progress, 569; and reflex actions, 22 High school students, 601 Hobhouse, L. T., 33, 399 Hocking, W. E., 474, 692 Hoff ding, H., 705 Hollingworth, H. L., 270, 276, 319 Honesty in employing, 281 Horne, H. H., 425, 620 House of Commons, 486 Hughan, J. W., 554 Hugo, Victor, 153 Human engineering, 249-263 720 Index Human nature, 168; complexity of, 393; in industry, 250-252; psychological interpretations of, 680; remaking, 692 Hypnotism, 182; in psycho- therapy, 191 Idea, defined, 110, 344; in older psychology, 25 Ideal mind, 127 Idealism, 706 Ideals, in business, 357 Ideas and habits, 387 Imagery, 74; types, 75-76 Imagination, 66, 76; as a domi- nant ability, 322; in auto-sug- gestion, 183; in play, 613; productive, 76-77; uses of, 78; types, 79 Imitation, and culture, 421; and invention, 342; and learning, 400; and suggestion, 420; as fundamental, 420; as factor in social evolution, 419; criticism of, 418; importance of, 416; influence of, 420, 427; recogni- tion of, 417 Imitationists, 413 Immigration, effect on moral con- ditions, 639 Impulse, and emotion, 68; defini- tions, 34-35 Impulses, 10 Individual and society, 577 Individuality, 389 Industrial democracy. See Co- operative management. Industrial education,"331, 629; in stimulating creative impulse, 336; problems of, 338 Industry, antagonism toward edu- cation, 336; function of, 256; value of human society, 250 Information tests, 297 Inhibition, 177 Insanity, and crime, 514; and sanity, 160; defined, 192; legal definition, 161; personal de- scriptions of, 161 Insight, 324 " Inspired news," 496 Instability, 164 Instinct, 30; and adaptation, 52; and emotion, 70; and experi- ence, 32-34; and habit, 31, 389; and intuition, 323; and play, 613; and reason, 120, 401; and the unconscious, 242; as agent in social progress, 569; as basis of human nature, 395; defined by Dre ver, 32; de- fined by McDougall, 408 Instinctive behavior, 403 Instincts, and education, 621; in industry, 334-345; in relation to selling, 366 Institutional selling, 365 Instrumentalism, 5 Integration, defined, 9 Intellect, and suggestion, 424; defined, 118 Intellectual ability, 597 Intellectualism, 4-5 Intelligence, and education, 294; and intellect, 118; and knowl- edge, 290; definitions, 288 Intelligence, general, 287 Intelligence tests, 283; and social progress, 568; as a means for discovering feeble-mindedness, 512; in the army, 2; objections to, 293; shortcomings of, 289; validity of, 290. See also Men- tal tests Interest, 84; as factor in atten- tion, 95; as factor in selling, 373 Interference, 236 Internationalism, 439 Introspection, as defined by Wat- son, 11 Introspective method, 6 Introversion, defined, 125 Intuition, and instinct, 323; and perception, 324; B e r g s o n's theory, 14; defined by Berg- son, 323; defined by Merton, 322; in personnel administra- tion, 322 Invention, 342 Inventions, effect on the indi- vidual, 578; greatly encouraged in present industrial epoch, 338 Jacoby, G. W., 188 Index 721 James, W., 16, 21, 39, 83, 85, 94, 95, 105, 116, 146, 545, 622, 660, 681 Janet, P., 163 Jelliffe, S. E., 188, 190 Jester case, 531 Job, physical characteristics of the, 281 Job analysis, 277; methods of making, 279 Jones, E., 181, 212, 541 Jung, Carl, 180, 206 Justice and sympathy, 434 Kallikak family, 514 Kant, I., 683 Kellogg, V., 7, 626 King, W. L. M., 250 Kirkpatrick, E. A., 630 Kitson, H. D., 372 Knowledge and intelligence, 290 Labor, attitude toward scientific management, 254; welfare of, 258 Labor, skilled and unskilled, 328 Labor turnover, 264, 329 Labor unrest, 589 Language, 392; and imitation, 417; essential in Binet tests, 284 Larkin Company, 329 Law, 639 Lawyers, psychology of, 537 Leadership, 594-610; and inven- tion, 342; college education in developing, 603; intellectual, 597; social selection of, 594; training for, 595; values of, 609 Learning, 400 Learning process, 624 Le Bon, Gustave, 487, 547 Leuba, J. H., 662 Libido, 14, 148; definitions, 206 Libido-fixation, 211 Life-urge. See Libido Link, H. C., 267, 328, 330, 364, 628 Lippman, Walter, 273, 480, 505, 627 707 Lombroso, Cesare, 516 Lombroso, Gina, 650 Lord, H. G., 473 Lourdes, 187 Love, akin to sympathy, 437; and partisanship, 462; dyna- mic, 443; of humanity, 438; psychological significance of, 171; self-love and love of neighbor opposed, 441; types of, 437 Loyalty, defined, 465; ethical definition, 468; problems of, 466; self-realization in, 470; to a cause, 468; to clans, 465; to a group, 470 Lying, 77 Lynching, 490 MacDonald, Ramsay, 591 McDougall, William, 23, 26, 27, 28, 33, 35, 50, 51, 70, 85, 90, 98, 129, 385, 390, 395, 584, 613 McDougall's Outline of Psychol- ogy, 6 McDougall's theory of instinctive behavior, 408 Maciver, R. M., 485 Mackintosh, C. H., 369 Man, as a social being, 394 Manipulation, 334 Manual dexterity test, 296 Marginal states, 245 Marketing, old and new methods, 364; defined, 367 Marot, Helen, 335 Marriage, 653; and divorce, 654; as adjustment, 656; a selective process, 658 Marshall, H. R., 45 Martin, E. D., 488 Mass meetings, 600 Mass phenomena, 384 Mechanism and consciousness, 46- 47 Mechanistic hypothesis, 11; not applicable in social sciences, 384 Mecklin, J. M., 646 Memory, 395; and association, 87; conative aspect, 90; con- ditions necessary, 87; defined, 86; selective, 87; significance in study of the subconscious, 237 722 Index Memory training, 89 Mental activity, nature of, 29 Mental attitudes, 301 Mental conflict, causing instabil- ity, 164; compared to social conflict, 541 Mental defectives, suggestibility of, 516 Mental deficiency and d e 1 i n- quency, 512, 513 Mental diseases, 192. See also Insanity Mental habits, 43, 685 Mental health, 244 Mental levels, 289; and efficiency, 291 Mental life, 46 Mental tests, 283-298; and crim- inals, 515; and education, 627; and labor unrest, 591; applica- tions to industry, 295; danger of too general applications, 277; in vocational guidance, 296, 319; limitations of, 628 Merton, H. W., 320 Mind, 16; and body, 699; and brain, 20-21, 198; and work, 308 ; ' ' carnal ' ' and ' ' spirit- ual, ' ' 689; effect of physical conditions on, 199; effect on body, 198 ; innate constitution, 30; social character of, 479 Ministers, value of psychology to, 646 Misfits, 290 Mob psychology, 2 Mobs, 585 Modernism, 703 Moods, 132, 162 Moore, J. S., 698 Moral conceptions, 401 Moral faculty, no longer accepted by psychologists, 634 Moral integration, 471 Moral qualities, how to deter- mine, 327; not absolute, 271 Moral unrest, 639 Morale, 473; content of, 474 Morality, 514. See also Ethics Morel's hypothesis of degeneracy, 517 Motor-continuum, 47 Motor habits, 42 Motor mechanisms, 34 Moving pictures, 618 Miinsterberg, Hugo, 529, 534 Muirhead, J. H., 133 Multiple personality, 194 Mursell, J. L., 164 Musical ability, tests for, 289 Myers, F. W. H., 165, 229, 679 Myerson, A., 231, 517 Mysticism, 670 National association of corpora- tion schools, 296 Negroes, of the South, 572 Nervous disabilities, 133 Nervous system, 9 Neural habit, 83 Neurasthenia, 193; subject fac- tors in, 194 Neurograms, 239 Neurosis, 21 Newspaper reading, 507 Non-resistance, 548 Nordau's theory of degeneracy, 517 Normality, definition, 163 Nurses, value of psychology to, 648 Organic sensation, 194 Over-beliefs, 704 Pacifism, 498; psychology of, 551 Pain, 61; and pleasure, 62-63; significance to psychologist and physician, 62 Panics, 584 Parental instinct, 409, 437 Parlor bolshevism, 608 Parmelee, M., 521 Parsons, F., 319 Parsons, F. W., 361 Partisanship, and love, 462; and testimony, 529; in personal re- lations, 461; in politics, 460 Paternalism in industry, 314 Paton, S., 8, 10, 144, 293, 517 Patriotism, 440, 463; based on personification of nations, 554; effects of war on, 464 Patten, S. N., 569 Paul, Saint, 642, 689 Index 723 Penology, need for more enlight- ened methods, 527 Perception, and intuition, 324; and learning, 401; as a factor in testimony, 532; definitions, 28 Perceptual patterns, 28-29 Performance tests, 284 Periodicity in fashions, 451 Personal qualities with reference to concrete activities of a job, 280 Personal tendencies, causes of, 695 Personality, 142-155, 241; alter- nating, 523; analysis of, 145; as a problem, 142; defined, 10, 698; functions of, 143; in salesmanship, 370 Personality, multiple. See Mul- tiple personality Personnel administration, 256- 258; application to educational field, 337 Personnel departments, duties of, 259 Persuasion, art of, 648 Physical conditions for work, 312 Physical defects and criminals, 518 Physical examinations for appli- cants, 281 Physicians, industrial, 314 Physicians, value of psychology to, 646 Pity, defined, 411 Placement. See Counseling Planning, workers' share in, 261 Plasticity, basis of habit, 39 Plato, 632 Platt, C., 386, 446, 542, 549 Play, and behavior, 614; and in- dustries, 616; and war, 615; how different from work, 614; psychical basis of, 612; spon- taneity in, 618; supervision of, 617; theory of, 611 Pleasantness and unpleasantness, 58 Pleasure, and pain, 62-63; de- fined, 634 Pluralism of ends, 708 Politics, inefficiency in, 461 Pope's analysis of present moral unrest, 639 Poverty, cause of, 572 Pragmatism, 5, 176, 707 Pratt, J. B., 663 Prayer, auto-suggestion as an ele- ment in, 675 Preaching, psychology of, 647 Prestige, 595 Prevailing love, 440 Prices, 367 Primitive society, 406 Prince, Morton, 160, 189, 237 Production, defined, 258 Progress, and heredity, 569; causes of, 571; economic as- pects of, 567; ethical concept of, 641; instinct as an agent in, 569 Progressivism, 576 Prohibition, 639; antagonism to, 592 Prohibition movement, 608 Propaganda, of the allies, 496 Propaganda, utility of, 498 Propagandism, and the crowd spirit, 499; devices, 497; his- tory of, 495; in the World War, 496 Prussianism, 551 Pseudo-environment, 537, 539 Psychiatry, 192 Psychic content, 152 Psychic disturbances, 190 Psychic energy, 14 Psychic forces in social organiza- tion, 559 Psychical determinism, defined, 698 Psychical dispositions, 234 Psychical origin of illness, 191 Psychical phenomena, and the subliminal self, 167; explana- tion of not in field of psy- chology, 701 Psychical research, 2; as aid in defining normal and subnor- mal, 165 Psychoanalysis, 2, 203-217; ap- plied to religion, 668 ; Freud's method, 207; of the child, 629; of the criminal, 522; summary of, 698 724 Index Psychology, a descriptive science, 639; as basis of social sciences, 381; assumptions of, 701; be- ginnings of, 19-20; defined, 3; newer, 169; older, 4, 168; relations to other sciences, 3; uses in attaining success, 351; uses of, 710; value in medical practice, 646; in the ministry, 646; to public speakers, 648; to nurses, 648 Psychology, educational, 619 Psycho-physical activity, defined, 21 Psycho-physics, 6 Psychoueuroses. See Psychic dis- turbances. Psychopathology, 190 Psychosis, 21 Psychotherapy, 188-202; defined, 188; difference from mental therapy, 188; empirical basis, 189; explanation method, 197 ; method, 191; objective, 189 Public opinion, 501; deterrents to, 503; element of fiction in, 506; power of, 509; rational- ization of, 505; sanctity of, 502; social function of, 504 Public speaking, 309, 698 Publicity, 363. See also Adver- tising Puffer, J. A., 317 Pugnacity, instinct of, 555 Punishment, 520 Purpose, 15-16 Purposive action, 23-24, 400 Putnam, J. J., 170 Pyle, W. H., 621 Pym, T. W., 678 Quakers, 552 Qualitative patterns, 29 Race prejudice, 542 Radicalism, 577 Ralph, A. J., 685 Ratings and tests, 271 Rationalistic types, 139 Rationality, 635, 708 Reaction to stimuli, unreliable in determining aptitudes, 321 Reaction-mass, 10 Reactions, 21-23; hereditary causes, 22; reflex, 22; volun- tary, 21 Reality, 112 Reason, and instinct, 120, 401; and suggestion, 674; defined, 119; rule of, 603 Reeducation, 192; moral doctrine involved, 637 Reflexes, 12, 22-23 Regeneration, 710 Reincarnation, theory of, 608 Religion, and social unrest, 590; aesthetic aspect of, 705; as the conservation of values, 705; conflicts, 665; content, 661; definitions, 662; doctrine, 677; element of suggestion in, 672; psychology of, 660-679; reason as a test of, 674; subconscious element in, 668; unconscious element in, 668 Religion, social, 574 Religious belief. See Belief, re- ligious Religious consciousness, defined, 664 Religious experience, 661, 664 Religious mania, 584 Religious revivals, 606 Repression, definition, 242 Repressed complexes, 163, 208 ; as cause of crime, 523 Reprisals, 520 Responses, 391 Responsibility for crime, 519 Rest, 220 Revolutions, 491, 542 Rivalry, 436; as a motive in social conflict, 579 Rivers, W. H. R., 163, 241 Romanes, Gr. J., 404 Ross, E. A., 445 Royce, Josiah, 177, 381, 464, 468 Royden, Maude, 654 Russell, Bertrand, 545 Russian revolution, 492, 544, 596 Sabotage, 587 Sacrifice, 573 Sadler, W. S., 199 Sales management, 378 Salesmen, instruction of, 368, Index 725 379; old-time, 364; organiza- tion of, 368 Sanity and insanity, 160 Santayana, G., 465, 705 Scientific management, 252-256; applied for benefit of industry, not of men, 336; objections to, 300 Scott, W. D., 301 Seashore, C. E., 83 Sectarian conflict, 582 Self, 145; and habit, 389; dual- ity of, 681; ideal, 697; larger, 153; motivation of, 695; psy- chology of, 6; secondary, 240; social, 435; subliminal, 165; unity of, 684 Self-assertion, 103 Self-consciousness, 148 Self-control in emergencies, 340 Self-esteem, 681 Self-estimates, 270 Self-knowledge as factor in voca- tional guidance, 320 Self-love, 438, 683; defined, 411 Self-preservation instinct, fallacy of theory of, 389 Selfishness, 681; bodily, 682 Selling, Briscoe's analysis of, 371; creative, 369; honesty in, 369; personality as factor in, 370; persuasion in, 371 Sensation, IV, 24; McDougall's theory of, 27; properties and classification, 25-26; Wood- worth's definition, 26 Sense-organs, as instruments of selection, 27 Sensory qualities, 27 Sentiments, 134, 410; and com- plexes, 243 Seth, James, 633 Sex antagonism, 654 Sex instinct, 31, 212, 437; proper relation of, 242 Sex life, Ereud's theory, 211 Sex-motive in dreams, 227 Shand, A. F., 135 Sidis, Boris, 161, 220, 234, 423, 487, 584 Simons, A. M., 256, 295, 316 Simpson, R. M., 342 Sin, 518; defined, 693 Skepticism, 672 Skill and habit, 341 Sleep, and the unconscious, 243; and the will, 219; Claperede's view, 220; dreamless, 221; pur- pose of, 229; theories of, 218. See also Dreams Slichter, S. H., 278 Slips of the tongue. See Errors Smith, A., 429 Smith, Hamblin, 515, 522 Smith, S. G., 518 Smith and Guthrie, 614 Social adjustment, 291 Social conflict, 541 Social control, 561, 562 Social ethics and philanthropy, 646 Social evolution, 402, 559 Social habits, 388 Social heredity, 457 Social instinct, 411 Social laws, 561 Social mind, 561 Social organization, beginnings of, 560 Social psychology, defined, 382 Social relations, 480 Social sciences and psychology, 381 Social unity, 564 Social work and psychology, 645 Sociability, 563 Socialism, 500; benefits, 591; dis- advantages, 591 Society, defined, 384; psycholog- ical origins of, 386 Sociology, 558; defined, 383 Soul, 146, 147 Spatial perception, 29-30 Spontaneity, 618 Stable-minded type, 126 Stampedes, 583 Starch, D., 625 Stereotyped opinions, 507 Stimulus, behaviorist theory of, 8, 9 Stoicism, 633 Strikes, 586; effects of, 589; mo- tivation of, 587 Strong, C. A., 21 Subconscious, 232-247; d e f i n i- tions, 245; functions of, 232; 726 Index popular usage of term, 232; terminology, 240 Subconscious behavior, 44 Subconscious self, 233 Subconscious system, 237 Sublimation, 343 Success, affirmative attitude necessary to, 349; corner-stones of, 351; principles of, 346; qualities essential to, 352; secret of, 348 Suggestibility, 173, 180; as a mental defect, 196; as normal quality of the mind, 406; not necessarily a sign of weakness, 349; of women, 377 Suggestion, 445; and behavior, 176; and emotion, 184; and imitation, 419; and intellect, 424; and psychoanalysis, 180- 182; and religion, 672; as an element in success, 348; Bau- douin's definition, 182; con- structive, 426; counter-, 175; defined, 174; effects of, 183; in education, 425; in psycho- therapy, 197; in selling, 373, 376; in social psychology, 422; influence on testimony, 531; limits of, 179; normal and ab- normal, 177; uses of term, 173 Sully, J., 432, 449 Suppressed complexes. See Re- pressed complexes Suppressed wishes, 226 Suppression, 242 Surplus energy, 569, 572; and play, 618 Swift, E. J., 300, 529 Symbols, 508 Sympathy, and altruism, 433; and charity, 434; and justice, 434; as foundation for love, 431, 436; as measure of per- sonality, 432; basis of, 431; defined, 431; in social control, 563 ; origin of, 429; psycholog- ical interpretation of, 430; terminology, 429 Synergy, defined, 563 Taciturnity, as an element in leadership, 595 Tansley, A. G., 125, 212, 541 Tarde, G., 417 Taylor's system. See Scientific management Teachers in vocational guidance work, 326 Tead and Metcalf, 259 Telepathy, 483 Telephone strike, Boston, 601 Temper, 131; defined, 129 Temperament, 128; as affected by bodily conditions, 127; as affected by glands, 130; causes, 131; defined, 124, 130 Temperaments, classifications of, 124; Link's classification of, 330 Temporal patterns, 29 Terman, L. M., 512 Terman tests, 515 Test questions, 269 Testimony, association method, 534; expert, 529; imaginative element in, 528; inaccuracies in, 530, 532; influence of sug- gestion on, 531, 535; legal points of view, 537; perception as a factor in, 532; pseudo- environment difficulty, 537 Tests. See Group tests; In- telligence tests; Mental tests; Performance tests; Trade tests Thought, 108-123; and will, 570; as distinguished from consci- ousness, 688; controlled, 117; defined by Watson, 11; nature of, 113 Thought sequences, 83, 115 Thouless, R. H., 664 Time study, type of men engaged in work, 254 Time study technique, 299 Titchener, E. B., 34 Trade skill, 276 Trade tests, 275 Trade unions, 587; opposition to scientific management, 255 Tradition, 455; and culture, 456; defined, 455; uses of 458 Traquair, Ramsay, 652 Trotter, W., 126', 164, 405, 541, 544 Index 727 Unconscious, 203; and conscious, 228; defined, 245; Freud's theory, 213, 216; hypothesis of, 159; in psychoanalytic methods, 209; in religious life, 668; terminology, 240 ' Unconscious element in crime, 522 Unconscious mechanisms, 178 Unconscious motives, 386 Underhill, Evelyn, 664, 669 Understanding and will, 690 Unstable-minded type, 126 Urge, 14 Valuation of existence, 705 Varied types, 139 Veblen, T., 335 Vestibule school, 328 Vineland Laboratory, 513 Vision in business, 356 Vocational guidance in schools, 316-333; aptitudes as factor, 320; difficulties in, 331; in- sight in relation to, 324; intui- tion in, 322; old methods of, 326; vestibule school, 328 Vocational guidance of employees, 267 Volition, 413; defined, 102 Volitional selection, 41, 48 Volstead law. See Prohibition Voluntary action, 40 Wallas, Graham, 35, 382, 385, 391, 506 War, 541-556; aesthetic element in, 554; and conflict, 548; and morale, 474; and morals, 640; anger as cause of, 547; atroci- ties in, 554; due to psychical conflicts, 546; effect on patriot- ism, 464; glamour of, 545; in- fluence of crowds, 545; James' moral equivalent for, 545, 550; lessons of, 549; need for an equivalent for, 550 ; origins of, 544; patterns of, 549; psychol- ogy of, 553; race prejudice as cause of, 542; remedy for, 554; why not ended, 552 War neuroses, 242 Ward, L. F., 563 Warren, H. C., 11, 28, 34, 46, 68, 82, 115, 124, 145, 213, 235, 274, 612 Watkins, G. S., 256 Watson, J. B., 10, 38, 63, 89, 124, 273, 305, 334 Welfare work, 311; cooperation in, 314 Wera, E., 250 Will, 16, 633; and habit, 42; and thought, 570; and understand- ing, 690; defined, 101, 106; origin of, 47-49 Will, derived, 100 Will of all, 481 Will to believe, 113 Will to decide, 100 Will-power, 104; and auto-sug- gestion, 183, 186 Williams, J. M., 390, 448, 579 Wish-fulfillment in dreams, 225 Wissler, C., 421, 557 Wolf, R. B., 266 Woman, and war, 552; nature of, 649; theory of inferiority to man, 650; psychological dif- ferences from man, 652 Woman suffrage movement, 608 Woods, Robert A., 646 Woodworth, A. S., 13, 31, 95, 103, 212, 412, 612 Worcester, E., 668 Work and health, 347; joy in, 261; psychology of, 302, 308 Workmanship. See Craftsman- ship World War, and propaganda, 496; cause of, 546; ethical as- pects of, 641 Worry, 200 Yerkes, R. M., 60, 294, 687 Yielding type, 137 Youth, crowd spirit among, 602; defiance of conventions, 578; reaction against conservatism, 576