LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 HARRY MCGUIRE
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 BY 
 
 G. D. H. COLE 
 
 FELLOW OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 Author of "Self -Government in Industry," 
 "Labour in the Commonwealth," etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1920, by 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 Att Rights Reserved
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY ... i 
 
 II. SOME NAMES AND THEIR MEANING . . 25 
 
 III. THE PRINCIPLE OF FvrrcjTi'm ... 47 
 
 IV. THE FORMS AND MOTIVES OF ASSOCIATION 63 
 V. THE STATE 81 
 
 VI. DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION . . 103 
 
 VII. GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION . . . 117 
 
 VIII. COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION . . . 128 
 
 IX. THE ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY . 144 
 
 X. REGIONALISM AND LOCAL GOVERNMENT . 158 
 
 XI. CHURCHES 172 
 
 XII. LIBERTY 180 
 
 XIII. THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS . . . 193 
 
 XIV. CONCLUSION 201 
 
 INDEX 215
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 MEN do not make communities they are 
 born and bred into them. Every individual 
 at his birth is flung into a social environ- 
 ment, and his life's work from infancy is to make 
 the best of that environment for himself and for 
 his fellows. As he grows to fuller consciousness, 
 his environment gradually expands. He becomes 
 aware of the family, contact with which furnishes 
 his first social experience. At the same time, he 
 becomes aware also of a larger world outside the 
 family, a world of wisdom, of things seen from 
 windows and on journeys from home, a world which 
 slowly assumes definite shapes and takes on human 
 characteristics of neighborhood and similarity. As 
 he grows older, the fact of organization in this 
 world becomes apparent, and school, church, club 
 and other social institutions claim him, and assume 
 a part in his life. By the time he reaches manhood, 
 he has drunk in and accepted the fact of the world, 
 his environment, as a complex of individuals and 
 associations, of customs and institutions, of rights 
 
 1
 
 2 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 and duties, of pleasures, pains, desires, hopes and 
 fears, strivings and attempts to understand all 
 centering round this complex and all raising the 
 more or less insistent question of his place in it, and 
 his relation to it. 
 
 Of course, this process is widely different in the 
 case of different individuals, types and classes. 
 Hitherto, men have usually been brought far sooner 
 and more completely into contact with an organized 
 social environment than women, whose experi- 
 ence has not been allowed to expand with the same 
 freedom. Again, the opportunities of the rich and 
 of the educated classes for contact with the world 
 without have been far fuller than those of the 
 workers or of the lower middle class. The workers, 
 however, through their Trade Unions, clubs and 
 other societies have shared with the upper classes 
 what is largely denied to the lower middle class the 
 opportunity for free association with a communal 
 object, and the consequent appreciation of the social 
 structure of the world around them. The Trade 
 Union is the working-class equivalent for the upper- 
 class public school and university, which are the 
 scenes not so much of education, as of the social 
 training of a ruling caste. 
 
 The generality of men and women take their 
 experience of the social scene around them unphilo- 
 sophically. They do not reflect upon it; they 
 merely accept it. But that does not make it any 
 the less a real experience, or any the less a part of 
 their mental equipment. They are born into a 
 complex society, and by a natural process that 
 complex society becomes a part of their lives as
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 3 
 
 real a Weltanschauung as any Teutonic philosopher 
 ever imagined. 
 
 The task which I propose to attempt in this book 
 is that of setting down, as clearly as I can, the social 
 content of this Weltanschauung of the ordinary man, 
 not of course limiting myself to what he sees, but 
 endeavoring to put together the social contents of 
 various experiences, and to make of them, as far as 
 they form one, a coherent and consistent whole. 
 What is the content of our social experience what 
 is the relation between the various fragmentary 
 experiences and contacts of and with individuals, 
 associations and institutions which we come upon 
 in our day-to-day life in Society? What, in short, 
 is the structure of the half -organized and half -con- 
 scious community of which we form a part? 
 
 Perhaps that last question gives rather too large 
 and inclusive an idea of the purpose which I have in 
 mind. It is not all experience that I mean to deal 
 with, but only social experience. Social Theory is 
 not concerned directly with all the actions of in- 
 dividual men, but mainly with their actions taken 
 in concert through some temporary or permanent 
 organized group, and with the actions of such groups 
 as they affect and react upon the individual. The 
 unorganized, personal conduct of individual men 
 will be always present as the background of our 
 study, though it will only be treated incidentally in 
 relation to its social content. 
 
 Even with this limitation, the scope which I have 
 taken for this book will seem to many people far 
 too wide. Social Theory, especially under its name 
 of "Political Theory," has often been regarded as
 
 4 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 having to do mainly with one particular association, 
 the State, and with its relation to the individual. 
 Recent theory, however, has been moving more 
 and more to the conclusion that this definition of 
 the scope of the subject is wrong, because it is 
 fundamentally untrue to the facts of social ex- 
 perience. 
 
 I do not mean, of course, to deny that it is possible 
 to write books about, and even to make a distinct 
 and separate study of, the nature of the associ- 
 ation called "The State," and its relation to the indi- 
 vidual. That is, of course, a perfectly legitimate and 
 necessary inquiry. But I do absolutely deny that 
 any study of the relations of State and individual 
 can furnish even the groundwork for a general sur- 
 vey of social experience, and that it, taken by itself, 
 can penetrate to the heart of the question of man's 
 place in Society. It is simply not true that the social 
 relations of which a man is most directly and con- 
 stantly aware are, under normal conditions, his 
 relations with the State ; and it is still less true that 
 these relations furnish the whole, or even the greater 
 part, of his social experience. 
 
 Society is a very complex thing. Apart from 
 personal and family relations, almost every indi- 
 vidual in it has, from childhood onwards, close con- 
 tacts with many diverse forms of social institution 
 and association. Not only is he a citizen or subject 
 of his State, and of various local governing authori- 
 ties within it: he is also related to the social order 
 through many other voluntary or involuntary 
 associations and institutions. He is, maybe, a 
 worker in a factory, mine or office, a member of a
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 5 
 
 church or other religious or irreligious body, a 
 Trade Unionist or member of a professional or 
 trading association, a Cooperator or Allotment 
 Holder or Building or Friendly Society member, he 
 has his club of the Pall Mall, politician or workman's 
 variety, he is a sportsman associated with the 
 fellow-sportsman, a Socialist or a Primrose Leaguer, 
 he has hobbies which cause him to join an associa- 
 tion of persons with the same tastes, or views which 
 cause him to link up with others of the same opinion. 
 Moreover, as a husband and a house or share owner, 
 he is directly in contact with the social institutions 
 of marriage and property, while his whole life is a 
 complex in which social customs and traditions play 
 an immense part. None can escape from constant 
 contact with some of these various social relations, 
 and almost every one is conscious of a widely diver- 
 sified and ceaselessly varying social environment of 
 which he forms, for his fellows, a part. Custom is 
 perhaps strongest among women, and association 
 is certainly strongest among men ; but among women 
 also the growth of association is following hard 
 upon the awakening of a wider social consciousness. 
 This being the character of the social complex, 
 the question at once arises of the right way of 
 surveying it from the theoretic standpoint. The 
 tendency of political theorists has been to survey it 
 under the guidance of the principle of Power or 
 Force, which is also the principle of the Austinian 
 theory of law. Of all the forms of association and 
 institution which I have mentioned, only the State, 
 and, under the State, in a small degree the local 
 authority, obviously possesses in our day coercive
 
 6 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 power. The State, therefore, as the "determinate 
 superior," having in its hands not only the majesty 
 of law, but the ultimate weapon of physical com- 
 pulsion, has been singled out and set on a pedestal 
 apart from all other forms of association, and 
 treated as the social institution par excellence, be- 
 side which all other associations are merely cor- 
 porate or quasi-corporate individuals, which the 
 State and the law can only recognize at all by pre- 
 tending that they are individuals, although it is 
 perfectly plain that they are not. 
 
 Following out this line of thought to its logical 
 conclusion, classical Political Theory has treated the 
 State as the embodiment and representative of the 
 social consciousness, the State's actions as the 
 actions of men in Society, the relations of the State 
 and the individual as the chief, and almost the only, 
 subject-matter of Social Theory. Over against the 
 State and its actions and activities this form of 
 theory has set indiscriminately the whole complex of 
 individuals and other associations and institutions, 
 and has treated all their manifestations as individual 
 actions without vital distinction or difference. 
 "" I believe that this false conception of the subject 
 arises mainly from the conception of human society 
 in terms of Force and Law. It begins at the wrong 
 end, with the coercion which is applied to men in 
 Society, and not with the motives which hold men 
 together in association. TJi^otkfix~way , of .con- 
 ceiving [human Society, first fully developed in 
 Rousseau's Social Contract, is in terms not of Force 
 s or Law, buf_jgfj^ijl. 
 
 As soon as we view the social scene in this light,
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 7 
 
 the whole outlook is at once different. Not only 
 the State, but all the other forms of association in 
 which men join or are joined together for the 
 execution of any social purpose, are seen as ex- 
 pressing and embodying in various manners and 
 degrees .the wills of the individuals who compose 
 them. 'The distinction between Social Theory 
 the theory of social conduct and Ethics the 
 theory of individual conduct is at once seen to be 
 the distinction between simple individual action 
 and associative action, between the direct indi- 
 vidual action of a human being by the simple 
 translation of his will into deed, and the associative 
 action of a number of human beings, or of an 
 individual acting on behalf of a number as agent or 
 representative, through a society or association. / 
 Of course, the act of an individual may be just as 
 "social" in its content and purpose as the act of a 
 society or group. But that is not the point: the 
 vital point is that, viewed in terms of will, the actions 
 of the State appear as of the same nature with 
 the actions of any other association in which men 
 are joined together for a common purpose. The 
 respective spheres of ethical and social theory are 
 thus marked out with sufficient clearness for prac- 
 tical purposes, though a doubtful borderland remains 
 of types of action which can be regarded as either 
 personal or associative, because the element of 
 association, though present in them, is present in so 
 rudimentary a form as not to override the purely 
 individual element. This point, however, does not 
 concern us here ; for it is enough for the present to 
 have made it clear that Social Theory is concerned
 
 8 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 primarily, not with the State, but with the whole 
 problem of human assodjjjon that is, of associa- 
 tive will and action. 
 
 It is, of course, possible to reject will as the basis 
 of human institutions; but the consequences of 
 such a rejection are so extraordinary that nearly 
 all political theorists have recoiled from their direct 
 acceptance. Even those who, like Hobbes, have 
 been most assiduous in founding their conception of 
 actual societies on the basis of Force and Law, have 
 sought to reinforce their position by finding an 
 original basis for social association in will. Hence 
 Hobbes' imaginary original social contract in which 
 men bound themselves together by Will into a 
 society, only to alienate forever for themselves and 
 their posterity the will ^ which alone could make 
 their society legitimate. /As soon as a basis of right, 
 and not of mere fact, is sought for human associa- 
 tion, there is no escape from invoking the principle 
 of human will, except for those who maintain that 
 Kings are Kings forever by Divine Right and Ap- 
 pointment. And even this is only to appeal from 
 the Will of man to an omnipresent and omnipotent 
 Will of God. 
 
 Every approach to democracy makes the actual 
 and legitimate foundation of Society on the will of 
 its members more manifest. I A theory based on 
 Force and Law may pass for long undetected in an 
 authoritarian Society; but it cannot survive the 
 emergence of democratic or even of aristocratic 
 consciousness^ This is true, not only or mainly 
 because the"wm of the people or of a class begins to 
 exert its influence upon affairs of State; but, still
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 9 
 
 more, because, without the sanction of law, other 
 forms of democratic or oligarchal association begin 
 to exercise a power which, within their sphere of 
 operation, threatens to challenge or control the 
 State and to usurp the functions which it has 
 arrogated to itself. Law in the strict sense, law 
 enforceable by courts and police, may remain in the 
 hands of the State; but other bodies, such as a 
 baronial assembly, a Church or a Trade Union, 
 frame regulations and secure their observance, even 
 without the aid of the black cap and the policeman. 
 To the great scandal of authority in our own day, 
 even the policemen form a Trade Union of their 
 own, and aim at becoming, within a narrow sphere, 
 their own legislature, executive, and judiciary. 
 
 Such a social situation is fatal to Political Theory 
 of the old type. While the political philosophers 
 are holding high argument about the philosophical 
 theory of the State, and the relation to it of the 
 individual, the world around them has become 
 interested in a new set of problems, in the position 
 of voluntary and functional associations in Society, 
 in their relation to national States, and their position 
 as being often international associations, in the 
 multiplicity and possible conflict of loyalties and 
 obligations involved for the indi\idual in simul- 
 taneous membership of several such associations. 
 In short, while the philosophers are still arguing 
 about the State and the individual, the world of 
 creative thought has moved on to the discussion 
 of the functional organization of Society, and 
 the new problems for the individual to which it 
 gives rise.
 
 10 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 It is not in the least surprising that, under these 
 conditions, the political theory of the schools has 
 become sterile, and that the new developments have 
 arisen among those whose vital interest has lain 
 neither in philosophy nor in the State, but in the 
 sphere of functional association. Apart from 
 purely psychological developments, there are at 
 present only three live sources of social theory the 
 Church, industry and history. Socially inarticu- 
 late in this country since the enfeebling conflicts of 
 the seventeenth century, the Churches are to-day 
 regaining their voice, if not their hold, upon the 
 people. They are beginning to realize that they, too, 
 are social institutions, and to reclaim their right to 
 spiritual self-government and spiritual freedom 
 from the State. Dr. J. N. Figgis' book, Churches 
 in the Modern State, has proved itself one of the 
 live forces in present-day social theory. 
 
 A force far more generally diffused, and far more 
 potent in its influence, is that which springs from in- 
 dustrial sources. Bolsheviks, Syndicalists, Marxian 
 Industrialists and Communists not merely claim 
 for proletarian organizations independence of the 
 State ; they threaten to destroy it altogether. Right 
 or wrong, they are a force, and thejr doctrines 
 are a living international influence. /At the same 
 time Guild Socialists, inspired also by industrial 
 and economic conditions, preach the doctrine of 
 democratic self-government in industry and the 
 transformation of the State by the influence of the 
 functional principle. / Their doctrine is far wider 
 than industry, although it springs out of industrial 
 conditions. It amounts in the last analysis to a
 
 complete Social Theory to the Social Theory which 
 I am putting forward in this book. 
 
 Thirdly, there is the source of history, which, as 
 our knowledge of the past grows, reminds us more 
 and more that the factotum State the omnicom- 
 petent, omnivorous, omniscient, omnipresent Sover- 
 eign State in so far as it exists at all outside the 
 brain of megalomaniacs, is a thing of yesterday, and 
 that functional association, which is now growing 
 painfully to a fuller stature, is not a young upstart 
 of our days, but has a pedigree to the full as long 
 and as honorable as that of the State itself and in- 
 deed longer and more honorable. Not only the study 
 of medieval history, but still more the growing 
 knowledge of early human institutions, serves to 
 emphasize the common character of the various 
 forms of human association, the essential reality, 
 based on the common will of men, of associations 
 to which Roman law was prepared to concede only 
 the derivative character of persona ficta. We owe 
 much to Gierke and Maitland in the study of law; 
 for they have enabled us to view it, not as the hand- 
 maid of the Sovereign State, but in its relation to 
 human association as a whole. 
 
 Our study of Social Theory will begin, then, not 
 with tfie State, or with any other particular form of 
 association, but with association as a whole, and 
 the way in which men act through associations in 
 supplement and complement to their actions as 
 isolated or private individuals. 
 
 Here, however, we are confronted with an im- 
 mediate difficulty. Is the family to be treated as 
 an association, and therefore as part of the social
 
 12 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 fabric of Society as distinguished from the indi- 
 viduals composing it ? Does the study of the family 
 form a part of the study of individual conduct or 
 of social conduct? These are not easy questions 
 to answer. 
 
 I do not propose to go deeply into the historical 
 character of the family, or to touch at all upon the 
 relations, actual or supposed, between the family 
 and the tribe. I am treating my subject, not his- 
 torically, but purely in relation to the present and 
 the future. I shall therefore say only that, in 
 modern times, the family has changed not only its 
 nature and function, but also its composition, and 
 that in doing so it has become far less a social and 
 far more a purely personal unit. The family to-day 
 only functions as a unit in relation to the personal 
 concerns of a relatively very small group, usually 
 those who are included in a single household or 
 brick-box. The family, in the sense of the clan, 
 including a large group of blood kindred, no 
 longer survives in Western Countries as a social 
 unit. It was, in primitive civilization, distinctly 
 and markedly a social rather than a personal unit; 
 but to-day the social functions of the clan have 
 passed into other hands, and the family remains 
 as a private group largely bereft of social functions 
 except in the getting and upbringing of children. 
 No small exception, truly! But it is an exception 
 largely irrelevant to our present purposes. For, 
 although in a sense the family is the necessary basis 
 of Society, it remains itself, under modern condi- 
 tions, largely external to the social fabric, the scene 
 of purely personal contacts, and least capable of
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 13 
 
 organization where it is most performing a social 
 function. Its very character is to be unorganizable, 
 incapable of organized coordination with the world 
 of associations which surrounds it; in short, per- 
 sonal rather than collective, individual rather than 
 associative in its operation. It is itself perhaps the 
 strongest of all human groups, as it is certainly the 
 most permanent ; but, as a human group, it is essen- 
 tially individual, and not the least of its strength 
 lies in the fact that it holds aloof from other groups 
 and remains, to a great extent, isolated in a world 
 of developing interrelation. Its members exercise 
 their civic, industrial and political functions more 
 and more, not through it, but as individuals, and, 
 by the removal of other past functions, the disap- 
 pearance of domestic industry for instance, it is 
 more and more set free to become the sphere of 
 purely personal affections and contacts. 
 
 In the past, some social theorists have based their 
 whole theory upon the analogy of the family, and 
 have striven to explain all wider phenomena of 
 association and community in its light. 1 Any such 
 explanation seems to-day so obviously misleading 
 that it need not detain us at all. It is, however, 
 important to point out that this is by no means the 
 only cure in which the use of a false analogy has 
 caused social theories to suffer shipwreck. Again 
 and again, social theorists, instead of finding and 
 steadily employing a method and a terminology 
 proper to their subject, have attempted to express 
 the facts and values of Society in terms of some 
 other theory or science. On the analogy of the 
 1 e.g. Filmer's Patriarcha.
 
 14 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 physical sciences they have striven to analyze and 
 explain Society as mechanism, on the analogy of 
 biology they have insisted on regarding it as an 
 organism, on the analogy of mental science or 
 philosophy they have persisted in treating it as a 
 person, sometimes on the religious analogy they 
 have come near to confusing it with a God. 
 
 These various analogies have very different de- 
 grees of value and disvalue. The mechanical anal- 
 ogy and the organic analogy have been alike defi- 
 nitely harmful, and have led theory seriously astray; 
 for they both invoke a material analogy in what is 
 essentially a mental or spiritual study. The anal- 
 ogies drawn from psychology and mental philosophy 
 are far less harmful, and may be even extremely 
 suggestive, if they are not pushed too far; for 
 though neither Society nor the various associations 
 which it includes are "persons," they approach far 
 more nearly to being persons than to being either 
 mechanical or organic. 
 
 There are, however, obvious and sufficient reasons 
 why no analogy can carry the study of human 
 Society very far forward. To every distinct human 
 study corresponds its own method and its own 
 terminology, and analogy pushed beyond very 
 restricted limits necessarily engenders confusion. 
 Our object is not to know what Society is like, but 
 to know what and how it is ; and any reference of it 
 to some other body of knowledge defeats the object 
 in view. 
 
 It is true that the method of social theory bears 
 a close resemblance to the method of ethics and 
 psychology. The two are, indeed, in a very real
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 15 
 
 sense, complementary, and only in both groups of 
 knowledge together can we find a full knowledge of 
 community. They must pursue to a great extent the 
 same method, in order to arrive at conclusions which 
 are capable of being collated and correlated. Thus 
 social theory has its social psychology, its descriptive 
 study of the action of men in association, and this is 
 related to social philosophy to some extent, though 
 not wholly in the same way as individual psychol- 
 ogy is related to moral philosophy. 1 How far 
 the parallel holds depends largely upon the sphere 
 assigned to social psychology, which is a young 
 science not yet at all sure of its scope or method. 
 
 The fact, however, that social and moral theory 
 are complementary, and that, as the final object of 
 both is the human mind in action, they must pursue 
 largely and essentially the same method, is only 
 one reason the more for keeping their terminologies 
 as clearly distinct as possible. For their spheres of 
 operation are distinct, though closely related, and 
 the closeness of their relationship only makes any 
 confusion of terminology the more likely to result 
 in confusion of thought. Thus, if we say that an 
 association is a "person," we are merely obscuring 
 a difference between persons and associations, or 
 rather between personal and associative action, upon 
 which the separate existence of moral and social 
 theory essentially depends. Such a conception may 
 be useful to lawyers whose object is to be able to 
 group persons and associations together for like 
 treatment civilly under the law; but it is clearly 
 inadmissible in social theory. 
 
 *To this point I must return later. See p. 18.
 
 16 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 We must, then, avoid analogies, or at the least 
 avoid allowing our terminology to be influenced at 
 all by analogies, however valuable. We must adopt 
 our own terminology, and make it, as far as possible, 
 clearly distinct from the terminology of any other 
 study. 
 
 So far, I am fully aware, the ground has not been 
 cleared for the adoption of an easily intelligible and 
 consistent terminology for social theory. This is in 
 part, but only in part, the fault of social theorists, 
 who have not succeeded in denning with sufficient 
 exactitude the scope and the boundaries of their 
 inquiry. It must, however, be recognized that the 
 task is one of peculiar difficulty, both because the 
 words of social theory are words of common use and 
 wont, and therefore peculiarly liable to shift their 
 meaning as conditions change, and still more because 
 conditions do change, and the associations and in- 
 stitutions with which social theory hals to deal 
 change with them, develop new functions, and dis- 
 card old ones, and even alter their fundamental 
 character and internal structure. The "States" of 
 to-day differ widely among themselves, and we 
 should be hard put to it to find a definition which 
 would embrace them all. But the "States" of differ- 
 ent ages differ far more widely, until such common 
 nature as exists among them is almost undiscernible 
 in the mass of transient characteristics which en- 
 compass them at every time. 
 
 If, then, this book seems to be concerned largely 
 with questions of terminology, that is not my fault. 
 It is hardly possible to fall into any discussion upon 
 an important point of social theory without finding
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 17 
 
 sooner or later the discussion tending to resolve 
 itself into a question of words not because only 
 words are at issue, but because it is impossible to 
 get down to the real issues until verbal ambiguities 
 have been removed. We shall be unable to proceed 
 with any analysis and social phenomena, and still 
 more with any explanation of them, until we have de- 
 termined, as far as possible, to use each important 
 name only in a single and definite sense, and until 
 we have agreed what that definite sense is to be. 
 That is why my second chapter deals entirely with 
 questions of terminology. 
 
 Before, however, we begin the discussion of these 
 vexed questions, it will be well to make as plain as 
 possible the object which this book has in view. 
 The subject-matter of social theory is the action of 
 men in association. That is clear enough. But 
 manifestly this subject-matter can be studied from 
 several different points of view. Apart from purely 
 historical studies, there are at least three main 
 ways besides many subsidiary ways of approach- 
 ing it, and, while each of the resulting bodies of 
 knowledge is useful to each of the others, and each 
 throws a necessary light upon each, their respective 
 interests are clearly distinct and the generalizations 
 or results with which they are concerned are essen- 
 tially different. We must see clearly what is the 
 content of these various studies, if we are to recog- 
 nize and appreciate the scope and the limitations of 
 that study with which alone we are here directly 
 concerned. 
 
 The first way of approach to social theory lies 
 through the study and comparison of actual social
 
 18 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 institutions. Here it often approaches nearly to 
 history ; for the direct material with which it works 
 is to be found in history. The anthropologist or 
 sociologist, studying the institutions of primitive 
 mankind, the constitutional historian, studying the 
 evolution of the State and of the political structure 
 of Society, the jurist, studying the development of 
 law, the ecclesiastical historian, studying the growth 
 and organization of churches all these amass 
 materials from which generalizations can be drawn, 
 and on which more or less scientific principles of 
 human organization can be based. The student of 
 representative institutions a Montesquieu or an 
 Ostrogorski works upon these materials and ar- 
 rives at results which possess an objective value. A 
 "positive science" of institutions is the object of 
 such forms of inquiry. 
 
 The second way of approach lies through the 
 study, not of institutions in themselves, but of the 
 motives and impulses by which men are moved in 
 their social actions through institutions and associa- 
 tions. At one extreme, this type of theory finds its 
 place in the study of "mob" or "crowd" psychol- 
 ogy, the impulses and ways of action of a barely 
 organized human group. At the other extreme, it 
 studies, from the same standpoint, the psychological 
 aspects of the most complicated and highly devel- 
 oped form of social association, and endeavors, like 
 the psychology of individual conduct, to formulate 
 the general rules which guide the actions of men in 
 association, studying also the diseases of association 
 as individual psychology studies the diseases of 
 personality. Mr. Robert Michels' book on Democ-
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 19 
 
 racy and the Organisation of Political Parties is 
 perhaps the best modern example of this form of 
 study in its developed form; but the nucleus of it 
 is to be found in that part of Rousseau's Social 
 Contract which deals with the actions of "govern- 
 ment," and the tendency of all governments to de- 
 generate. 1 
 
 There is, of course, much "Social Psychology" 
 which takes for itself a far more roving commission 
 than this. Like psychology as a whole, Social 
 Psychology has often tended, in the hands of its 
 professors, to rely too much on data afforded by the 
 primitive types, and to resolve itself largely into an 
 analysis of instincts. Mr. Graham Wallas' Human 
 Nature in Politics furnished a sort of preface to a 
 more developed sort of Social Psychology, which its 
 author proceeded to follow up, somewhat disap- 
 pointingly, in The Great Society. In America, how- 
 ever, the method of Mr. Wallas is finding followers 
 in plenty, and big developments of this form of 
 social study may be expected from these sources. 
 
 The third way of approach to social theory is 
 that which Rousseau explicitly set out to attempt in 
 the first two books of his Social Contract. It is no 
 less than the discovery of universal principles of 
 social association of the values, rather than of the 
 facts of sociality. He contrasted his own method 
 sharply with that of Montesquieu in the following 
 passage : 
 
 "Montesquieu did not intend to treat of the 
 
 principles of political right; he was content to 
 
 treat of the positive law of established govern- 
 1 See Social Contract, bk. iii., especially chap, x.
 
 20 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 ments ; and no two studies could be more different 
 
 than these." 1 
 
 Thus, in Rousseau's view, the way of approach 
 which he sought to adopt in discovering the philo- 
 sophic principles of human association was a way 
 which concerned itself not with fact, but with right. 
 It was, in the language of the schools, a normative, 
 and not a positive study. It was thus complemen- 
 tary and parallel to ethical philosophy as the study 
 of individual conduct from the moral standpoint, 
 just as social psychology, the study of associative 
 conduct from the descriptive, analytical and com- 
 parative point of view, corresponds to individual 
 psychology, as the study of individual conduct from 
 the same point of view. Here, however, the parallel 
 breaks down because of the difference of subject 
 matter. In the case of social institutions, there is 
 a third way of study the first of those mentioned 
 above which examines and compares actual in- 
 stitutions and endeavors to reach practical general- 
 izations on this basis. In the case of individual 
 conduct, there is no corresponding third way, unless 
 we consent to regard the study of the human body 
 physiological psychology, physiology proper, and 
 all the other sciences which have to do with the body 
 as in some sense parallel. But to do this is to 
 fall into one of those dangerous analogies against 
 which we have already uttered a warning. Actual 
 institutions may be likened, in a certain sense, to the 
 "body" of the community, as they may be re- 
 
 1 Emile, bk. v. The word droit in the French is used in the 
 sense both of "right" (droit politique) and "law" (droit 
 positif).
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 21 
 
 garded as, in a certain sense, its mechanism. But 
 strictly speaking, the community has no body and, 
 as Herbert Spencer said, no "common sensor him." 
 Institutions, even if we abstract from the motives 
 which are present in their action, are neither 
 organism nor mechanism. We may, if we will, 
 speak of the "organs of the body social," or of the 
 "machinery of Society," but we must beware of 
 regarding such phrases as more than metaphors, or 
 of basing any conclusions at all upon them. 
 
 My object in this book is primarily philosophical. 
 I am concerned principally with social theory as the 
 social complement of ethics, with "ought" rather 
 than with "is," with questions of right rather than 
 of fact. But this does not mean that it is desirable 
 or possible to extrude from consideration the other 
 forms of social study which have been mentioned. 
 Social psychology of the type described above offers, 
 in particular, indispensable material for any study 
 of social conduct. The difference is that, in relation 
 to the particular inquiry upon which we are setting 
 out, it forms part, not of the ultimate interest or 
 object before us, but of the material on which we 
 have to work. We must know how associations and 
 institutions actually work, what human motives and 
 distortions of human motive are actually present in 
 them, before we can form any philosophical concep- 
 tion of the principles on which they rest. We there- 
 fore cannot quite say, like Rousseau, "Away with 
 all the facts !" although in our conclusions the facts 
 drop away and only questions of right remain. 
 
 There is a further danger, not yet directly men- 
 tioned, against which we must be, throughout the
 
 22 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 study, always on our guard. It is the more neces- 
 sary to guard against it, because the essential diffi- 
 culties of terminology are always drawing us into 
 it, whether we will or not. We must avoid thinking 
 of either the State or the community as ends in 
 themselves, as self-subsistent and individual realities 
 similar to, or greater than, the persons who are 
 members of them. We must never say that the 
 State desires this, or the community wills that, or 
 the Church is aiming at so and so, without realizing 
 clearly that the only wills that really exist are the 
 wills of the individual human beings who have 
 become members of these bodies. There is no 
 such thing, strictly speaking, as the "will" of an 
 association or institution; there are only the 
 cooperating wills of its members. 
 
 The chief difficulty here arises from two 
 sources. First, from the fact that the actions of an 
 association seldom if ever reflect the wills of all its 
 members there is practically always a dissentient 
 minority, and very often an apathetic majority. Sec- 
 ondly, from the fact that an association often seems 
 to acquire a sort of momentum which impels it into 
 action without the force of any individual will 
 behind it, or at least causes big actions to be taken 
 on a very small and weak basis of will. Both these 
 facts easily lead us to ascribe a will to the institution 
 itself a will in some sense transcending the wills of 
 its members. Burke's French Revolution arrives at 
 this position by the second route; Bosanquet's 
 Philosophical Theory of the State and much other 
 more or less Hegelian writing by the first. Rous- 
 seau sometimes seems to fall into the same
 
 THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY 23 
 
 error, though his way of arriving at it is more 
 obscure. 
 
 This is a question which will have to be discussed 
 much more fully later in this book. Here it need 
 only be said that, even if the belief underlying the 
 view of State or community or association as an 
 "end in itself" were true, it would be none the less 
 important to keep our ways of speaking about such 
 "ends in themselves" clearly distinct from our ways 
 of speaking about individual human beings. Other- 
 wise, only serious confusion can result. Thus, if, 
 like Rousseau, we use the term "General Will" to 
 mean sometimes a will generally diffused among the 
 citizens, and at other times to mean a will whose 
 object is the general good of the citizens, whether 
 it is present in the mind of one or some or all of 
 them, the way is already paved to an illusory recon- 
 ciliation of these two different meanings of terming 
 this "General Will," which begins in either case as 
 somebody's (or everybody's) will, into a will which 
 is neither somebody's nor everybody's, but the will 
 of the State or the community itself. 
 
 I have spoken so much of terminological difficul- 
 ties and confusions that I fear the reader is already 
 looking forward to the next chapter, which deals 
 entirely with the use of terms, with considerable 
 misgivings. But I hope I have said enough to make 
 it plain that there is no chance of carrying this 
 inquiry satisfactorily through to the end unless we 
 begin by getting as clear as we can the sense in 
 which the names on which it hinges are to be used. 
 We cannot hope to get them quite clear, even to our 
 own minds; and still less can we hope to find any
 
 24 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 way of reconciling or making easily comparable the 
 varying terminologies of different writers on our 
 subject. But we must do the best we can, and crave 
 indulgence if our definitions are not fully satis- 
 factory. 
 
 To that task of clearing the ground for our main 
 inquiry we must now turn.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SOME NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 
 
 EVERY developed Community may be re- 
 garded as giving rise to an organized Society, 
 within which there exists a vast complex of 
 social customs, institutions and associations, through 
 which the members or citizens express themselves 
 and secure in part the fulfillment of the various 
 purposes which some or all of them have in com- 
 mon. There are in this sentence at least seven words 
 upon the clear definition of which success in our 
 subsequent inquiry largely depends. 
 
 Community is the broadest and most inclusive of 
 the words which we have to define. By a "Com- 
 munity" I mean a complex of social life, a complex 
 including a number of human beings living together 
 under conditions of social relationship, bound to- 
 gether by a common, however constantly changing, 
 stock of conventions, customs and traditions, and 
 conscious to some extent of common social objects 
 and interests. It will be seen at once that this is a 
 very wide and elastic form of definition under which 
 a wide variety of social groups might be included. 
 It is, indeed, of the essence of community that its 
 definition should be thus elastic; for "community" 
 
 25
 
 26 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 is essentially a subjective term, and the reality of it 
 consists in the consciousness of it among its mem- 
 bers. Thus a family is, or may be, a community, 
 and any group which is, in a certain degree, self- 
 contained and self-subsistent, is or may be a commu- 
 nity. A medieval University, a monastic brother- 
 hood, a cooperative colony these and many more 
 may possess those elements of social comprehensive- 
 ness which give a right to the title of community. 
 
 But, if the word is wide and inclusive enough in 
 one aspect, it is essentially limiting in another. In 
 order to be a community, a group must exist for the 
 good life and not merely for the furtherance of some 
 specific and partial purpose. Thus, a cricket club, 
 or a Trade Union, or a political party is not a com- 
 munity, because it is not a self-contained group of 
 complete human beings, but an association formed 
 for the furtherance of a particular interest common 
 to a number of persons who have other interests 
 outside it. A community is thus essentially a social 
 unit or group to which human beings belong, as 
 distinguished from an association with which they 
 are only connected. 
 
 Yet, despite this wholeness and universality 
 which are of the nature of community, it is not the 
 case that a man can belong to one community only. 
 A community is an inclusive circle of social life; but 
 round many narrow circles of family may be drawn 
 the wider circle of the city, and round many circles 
 of city the yet wider circle of the Province or the 
 Nation, while round all the circles of Nation is 
 drawn the yet wider and more cosmopolitan circle of 
 World civilization itself. No one of these wider
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 27 
 
 circles necessarily absorbs the narrower circles 
 within it: they may maintain themselves as real 
 and inclusive centers of social life within the wider 
 communities beyond them. A man is not less a 
 member of his family or a citizen of his city for 
 being an Englishman or a cosmopolitan. Member- 
 ship of two communities may lead, for the indir 
 vidual, to a real conflict of loyalties ; but the reality 
 of the conflict only serves to measure the reality of 
 the communal obligation involved. 
 
 Our definition does not, of course, enable us to 
 say exactly and in every instance what is a com- 
 munity and what is not. Being a community is a 
 matter of degree, and all communities, being actual, 
 are also necessarily imperfect and incomplete. 
 There may often arise, not merely a dispute, but an 
 actual doubt in the minds of .the persons concerned 
 to what community they belong, as for instance in 
 a border country which hardly knows with which of 
 the peoples it lies between its community of tradi- 
 tion, interest and feeling is the stronger. Again, a 
 province or a town may be merely an administrative 
 area, with no common life or feeling of its own, or 
 it may be a real and inclusive center of social life. 
 Moreover, it may pass by insensible stages from the 
 one condition to the other, as when a depopulated 
 strip of countryside becomes first a formless urban 
 district and then gradually assumes the form and 
 feeling of a town or city, changes and developments 
 in administrative organization usually, but not 
 necessarily, accompanying the change in feeling. 
 There are groups which obviously deserve the name 
 of communities, and groups which obviously do not
 
 28 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 deserve it; but there are also countless groups of 
 which it is difficult to say, at any particular moment, 
 whether they deserve the name or not. 
 
 It is plain, then, that our thing, "a community," 
 does not necessarily involve any particular form of 
 social organization, or indeed any social organiza- 
 tion at all. It is not an institution or a formal asso- 
 ciation, but[a center of feeling, a group felt by its 
 members to be a real and operative unity,! In any 
 community larger than the family, however, this 
 feeling of unity, with its accompanying need for 
 common action, almost necessarily involves con- 
 scious and formal organization. The feeling of 
 unity makes it easy for the members of a commu- 
 nity to associate themselves together for the various 
 purposes which they have in common, and, where 
 the community is free from external hindrances, 
 such association surely arises and is devoted to the 
 execution of these common purposes. Where a com- 
 munity is not free, and an external power hinders or 
 attempts to prevent organization, association still 
 asserts itself, but instead of directing itself to the 
 fulfillment of the various social needs of the group, 
 almost every association is diverted to subserve the 
 task of emancipating the community from external 
 hindrances. This, for instance, is the position in 
 Ireland at the present time. 
 
 We are concerned in this "study with community 
 as a whole, and with communities of every kind; 
 but our chief interest is necessarily with those larger 
 and more complex communities which have the 
 largest social content and the most diversified social 
 organization. It is, indeed, in relation to these that
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 29 
 
 the principal difficulties arise. The simple fact of 
 community is easy enough to appreciate; but in a 
 large and highly developed social group, internal 
 organization, and cross-currents of organization 
 which, assignable to wider communities, overleap 
 the frontiers of the smaller groups and communities 
 within them, often loom so large that the fact of 
 community itself tends to disappear from sight. 
 The desire to counter this tendency is, as we shall 
 see later, one of the principal causes of the facile, 
 but fatal, identification of community with "State" 
 which is so often made by social theorists. 
 
 "Every developed community," we began by 
 declaring, "may be regarded as giving rise to an 
 organized Society." In the small community of the 
 family this distinction does not to-day, or usually, 
 arise. 1 But for larger communities the distinction 
 is of vital importance. In every such community 
 there is a part of the common life which is definitely 
 and formally organized, regulated by laws and 
 directed by associations formed for social purposes. 
 I mean to use the term Society to denote the com-, 
 plex of organized associations and institutions 
 within the community. 
 
 I am conscious in this use of giving to the word 
 "Society" a more definite meaning than those with 
 w*hich it is customarily employed. Indeed, the 
 meaning here assigned to it is to a certain extent 
 artificial, but by no means entirely so. We do in 
 fact constantly speak of Society when we wish to 
 
 1 It does arise wherever, as in tribal communities, the family 
 becomes a center of organized law-giving or justice, or directs 
 the economic life of its members on a wide enough basis to re- 
 quire formal organization.
 
 80 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 denote neither the whole complex of community, 
 nor any particular association or institution, but 
 the sum total of organized social structure which is 
 the resultant of the various associations and insti- 
 tutions within a community. A word is necessary 
 for our purposes to express our sense of that part of 
 the common life which is organized, and the word 
 "Society" seems the best fitted for this purpose. 
 
 "Society," then, in the sense in which the word 
 is used in this book, is not a complete circle of social 
 life, or a social group of human beings, but a result- 
 ant of the interaction and complementary character 
 of the various functional associations and institu- 
 tions. Its concern is solely with the organized co- 
 operation of human beings, and its development 
 consists not directly in the feeling of community 
 among individuals, but in the better coherence and 
 more Jiarmonious relationship of the various func- 
 tional bodies w'ithin the community. 
 
 We have seen that a developed community, larger 
 than the family, can hardly exist without institutions 
 and associations; that is, without Society. Society, 
 on the other hand, may exist, if imperfectly, yet in a 
 developed form, without real community, or with 
 only a very slender basis of community. The union 
 of Ireland and Great Britain under a single Parlia- 
 ment, and with a large system of associations and 
 institutions extending to both, is an instance of a 
 Society with but the shadow of a basis of commu- 
 nity. In such a case, as we shall see, the more artifi- 
 cial an association or institution is, or the greater 
 the element of coercion it includes, the more it is in- 
 clined to persist, whereas the more voluntary and
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 31 
 
 spontaneous forms of organization find it hard to 
 live under such conditions. The growth of a purely 
 Irish Labor Movement, with a tendency to break 
 away from the British Movement, is an example of 
 this difficulty. 
 
 Society, as a complex of organizations, cannot 
 stand for, or express, all human life within a com- 
 munity, or the whole life of any single human being. 
 Indeed, it is probably true that what is best and most 
 human in men and women escapes almost entirely 
 from the net of Society, because it is incapable of j 
 being organized. Society is concerned mainly with 
 rights and duties, with deliberate purposes and in- 
 terests. While the community is essentially ~a~\ ^ 
 center of feeling, Society is a center, or rather a 
 group of centers, of deliberation and planning, I 
 concerned far more with means than with ends. It J 
 is, of course, true that an association or an institu- 
 tion can arouse in us and make us attach to it senti- 
 ments of loyalty as well as calculated adherences; 
 but at least the better part of our feelings of love 
 and devotion are put forth in purely personal rela- 
 tionships, or in the narrow but intense community of 
 the family. It is essential that associations and in- 
 stitutions, and even that Society itself, should be 
 able to appeal to our sentiments of loyalty and de- 
 votion, but it would be wrong to desire that these 
 sentiments should be absorbed in them. As long as"!^ 
 human life remains, most of the best things in it will 
 remain outside the bounds and scope of organization, 
 and it will be the chief function of Society so to, 
 organize these parts of human life which respond to 
 organization as to afford the fullest opportunity for
 
 82 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the development of those human experiences and re- 
 lationships to which organization is the cold touch 
 of death. 
 
 Society, like community, is a matter of degree. 
 It depends not only on the volume and extent of 
 associative and institutional life in the community, 
 but still more on the coherence and cooperative 
 working of the various associations and institutions. 
 Where associative and institutional life is vigorous, 
 but there exist distinct castes and classes, each 
 with its own network of organizations, not cooper- 
 ating but conflicting and hostile, then Society exists 
 indeed, but only in a very low degree. The highest 
 development of Society consists not only in the 
 general diffusion of associations and institutions, 
 over every organizable tract of social life, but also in 
 the harmonious cooperation of all the various bodies, 
 each fulfilling its proper function within Society, in 
 harmony and agreement with the others. We shall 
 be able to appreciate the full implications of this 
 harmony better at a later stage, when we have ex- 
 amined more closely the nature of associations and 
 institutions, and when we have shown in its true light 
 the principle of "function" as their sustaining prin- 
 ciple. 
 
 n We have so far spoken of associations and insti- 
 tutions uncritically, without any attempt to examine 
 their nature, or to define the sense in which the terms 
 are used. To do this is our next task. We have 
 seen that every developed community includes a 
 network of associations and institutions of the most 
 various kinds, and we have now to explain their 
 character as far as we can. j This is the central
 
 difficulty of our subject, and, if this is surmounted, 
 we may fairly hope that much of the rest will be 
 comparatively plain sailing.; 
 
 Men living together in community are conscious 
 of numerous wants, both material and spiritual. 
 In order to satisfy these wants, they must take 
 action, and accordingly they translate their con- 
 sciousness of wants into will. These wants are of 
 the most diverse character, and require the most 
 diverse means for their satisfaction. In two respects 
 above all, they differ fundamentally one from 
 another, and their differences in these respects 
 present the best starting-point for our examination. 
 
 Some wants are of a simple character and only 
 require a simple translation into will and action for 
 their fulfillment, or for the demonstration that they 
 cannot be fulfilled. Such wants, being essentially 
 simple and single, do not give rise to any form of 
 organization. But very many wants are complex, 
 and require for their fulfillment not a single act of 
 will or action, but a whole course of action sustained 
 by a continuing purpose. It is in such cases, where 
 the will must be maintained over a whole course of (/ 
 action, that the need 'for organization may arise. 
 
 The presence of deliberate purpose, however, does 
 not necessarily lead to social organization. The 
 individual has often to present to himself a course 
 of action, and to sustain by a continuing act of will 
 a whole course of action. In such a case he may be 
 said to "organize" his own mind, but organization 
 remains purely personal and within his mind. The 
 position is different when he finds that the purpose 
 before him can only, or can better, be furthered by
 
 (7 
 
 (7 
 
 84 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 his acting in common with other individuals and 
 undertaking in common with them a course of action 
 which, he hopes, will lead to the satisfaction of the 
 want of which he is conscious in himself. The 
 mere realization of the need for cooperative action 
 does not, of course, call the cooperation into being, 
 but it is the basis on which cooperation can be 
 built. This consciousness of a want requiring co- 
 operative action for its satisfaction is the basis of 
 association. 
 
 The wants which may lead to association are 
 themselves of the most diverse kind, and can be class- 
 ified in the most varied ways. The classification 
 that is necessary for our present purpose is, how- 
 ever, clear enough. It is not the "material," but 
 the "social" content of the want with which we are 
 here concerned. In this aspect, the want may be 
 either "several" or "associative." It is, of course, in 
 either case a want of an individual, because only in- 
 dividuals can want anything; but its nature may 
 be such that each individual can enjoy the satis- 
 faction of it by himself, even if imperfectly, whether 
 the other individual secures a like satisfaction or not 
 (these are the wants which I have here called 
 "several"), or it may be such that it can be enjoyed 
 only by the cooperating group as a whole, and not 
 by any individual except in conjunction with other 
 individuals. Of course, if a want is complex in 
 character, and is rather a circle of wants than a 
 single want, it may partake of both natures, and be 
 at once several and associative. 
 
 Both several and associative wants are fertile of 
 associations; but the permanence and social value
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 35 
 
 of the associations which they create differ con- 
 siderably. A mere similarity or coincidence of ob- 
 ject, while it may lead for a time to very close 
 cooperation in pursuit of that object, does not 
 necessarily imply any similarity or coincidence of 
 motive, and still less any real sense of community 
 
 t 1 T 1 t 
 
 among those who unite to pursue it. In the absence 
 of profound dissimilarity of motive, it may easily 
 engender a sense of community, and in doing so, 
 may perhaps convert a several into an associative/ 
 want. Thus, a group of farmers may associate 
 purely because each sees in association a prospect of 
 strengthening his economic position; but, having 
 acted together, the group may realize the benefits 
 of associative action, and become inspired with the 
 cooperative principle. Irish agriculture, under the 
 guidance of A. E. and the Irish Homestead, has 
 shown a marked tendency to pass from severalty 
 of wants to associative wants. 
 
 Wants which are in their nature associative 
 commonly imply a close, constant and continuing 
 cooperation among the persons concerned, both 
 until the object of the association has been secured, 
 and thereafter for its exercise and maintenance. 
 Those who pursue them therefore become far more 
 easily imbued with the spirit of community, and the 
 associations which are created for their fulfillment 
 form a far more vital part of the structure of 
 Society. Almost all the great and important associ- 
 ations which exercise a vital influence on affairs at 
 the present time do so for one of two reasons. Either 
 they exist, or are coming to exist, primarily for 
 the fulfillment of associative wants, or they exercise
 
 36 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 influence, despite the severalty of the wants with 
 which they are concerned, by reason of some ex- 
 traneous pull, such as the possession by their mem- 
 bers of vast wealth. In so far as associations are 
 democratic, they can hardly exercise abiding influ- 
 ence unless their purposes are to a considerable ex- 
 tent associative. 
 
 It is perhaps necessary to illustrate the somewhat 
 bare description given above by a few actual ex- 
 amples. A good instance of pure severalty of aim 
 is to be found in any association which exists simply 
 and solely to represent consumers. A Railway 
 Season-Ticket Holders' Association, for instance, 
 represents persons of the most diverse types, each 
 of whom, broadly speaking, is solely concerned to 
 get railway facilities for himself as cheaply as pos- 
 sible. A commercial or industrial company is another 
 example. In a meeting of shareholders, broadly 
 speaking, each individual is only concerned with the 
 amount of dividend he will secure, and with the 
 expectation of future dividends presented to him 
 by the general position of the company. I do not 
 mean, of course, that any individual acts in such an 
 association purely as season-ticket holder or share- 
 holder, or that his communal instincts and ideas 
 find absolutely no play. That is not the case. But 
 I do mean that the bond of the association itself is 
 purely several, and that the fact of association 
 carries with it no implication that the individuals 
 associated have a common view as to the social 
 position of season tickets or dividends in the com- 
 munity, or a common care for the satisfaction of 
 each other's needs. Only if there is in the asso-
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 37 
 
 ciation some other bond besides that of pure sev- 
 eralty will the spirit of community be evoked, and 
 the association take on a communal aspect. 
 
 This is not to say that associations based on pure 
 severalty may not be useful parts of Society. But, 
 as long as their basis remains purely several, they 
 lack the necessary elements of community which 
 will enable them to link up easily and enter into 
 complementary relationship with the rest of Society. 
 They have their part to play; but it is an isolated 
 and secondary part in the social fabric. How they 
 act to-day we shall see more clearly when we come 
 to consider social theory in its economic aspects. 
 It is indeed in the economic sphere that such asso- 
 ciations mainly, though not exclusively, appear on 
 a large scale. In almost all other spheres, although [j 
 associations based on severalty exist, they attain to 
 importance only when their character of severalty 
 is crossed by an associative want. 
 
 This very rough and preliminary analysis is 
 sufficient to enable us to proceed to the task of 
 definition. By an "association" I mean any group 
 of persons pursuing a common purpose or system or 
 aggregation of purposes by a course of cooperative 
 action extending beyond a single act, and, for this 
 purpose, agreeing together upon certain methods of 
 procedure, and laying down, in however rudi- 
 mentary a form, rules for common action. At least 
 two things are fundamentally necessary to any asso- 
 ciation a common purpose or purposes and, to a 
 certain extent, rules of common action. 
 
 The primary condition of all association is a 
 common purpose; for the object of all associations
 
 38 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 being the attainment of some end, there can be no 
 association unless the attainment of that end is 
 the purpose of the members. The "end," "object," 
 or "interest," or as I prefer to call it, the "purpose," 
 is the raison d'etre of every association. But, while 
 this is a fundamental point, it is important that it 
 should not be pushed too far. The presence of a 
 common purpose does not imply that it must be 
 fully and consciously apprehended by all or, even 
 in the case of already established associations, a 
 majority of the members. Thus, an association 
 may be constituted by its original founders with a 
 definite purpose; but, in course of time, the con- 
 sciousness of this purpose may become blurred, and 
 the association may survive almost purposelessly, 
 men joining it rather because membership has be- 
 come customary than for the attainment of any end. 
 Some Churches are instances of such atrophied 
 forms of association. 
 
 Secondly, it must be borne in mind that very many 
 associations have, not a single, clearly definable 
 purpose, but a number of purposes more or less in- 
 timately related one to another. In these cases, 
 while, except in the circumstances contemplated 
 above, each member is as a rule conscious of at 
 least one of the purposes of the association, it does 
 not follow that each member is conscious of, or 
 shares in the desire to forward, each of the pur- 
 poses in view. This may occur, either because 
 a member does not fully appreciate the interrelation 
 of the various purposes, and therefore fails to 
 appreciate the significance of some of them, or be- 
 cause he does really differ from his fellows as to
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 39 
 
 some of the purposes contemplated by the associa- 
 tion, while agreeing with him about the rest, and feel- 
 ing the association to be worth while for their sake 
 alone. For example, when a Trade Union or an em- 
 ployers' association combines political and industrial 
 activities, there will be some .who, agreeing with the 
 principal objects of the association and therefore 
 desiring to remain members, will dissent from some 
 of its purposes and methods. The Osborne Judg- 
 ment controversy some years ago, and the recent 
 controversy about the use of "direct action" for 
 political purposes, alike served to force this issue to 
 the front in the case of Trade Unions. It is perhaps 
 unfortunate that it has not been similarly forced to 
 the front in the case of employers' associations. 
 
 Thirdly, we must remember that associations are 
 sustained by human beings, and are therefore 
 capable of constant development. Changing circum- 
 stances, or a changing appreciation of the same cir- 
 cumstances, may impel the members of an associa- 
 tion to widen or to narrow its objects, or to vary 
 them from time to time. All associations possess a 
 considerable elasticity in this respect, the degree of 
 their elasticity varying largely with the amount of 
 coherence they possess which in turn depends 
 mainly upon the intensity of the communal feeling 
 which inspires them. But there is for every associa- 
 tion a limit of elasticity, and, strained beyond this 
 point by the inclusion of new purposes, the associa- 
 tion will break, and a new one have to be created to 
 fulfill the new purposes. The atrophy of the original 
 purposes causes associations to decay. They may re- 
 new themselves by assuming new purposes; but, if
 
 40 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the change is too big or too violent, they break. 
 Decay or breakage is the fate of every association 
 in the end ; and as, from one cause or the other, asso- 
 ciations disappear, men create new ones to take 
 their place. 
 
 So~ much for the common purposes which are the 
 moving and sustaining principle of all associations. 
 But, as we saw, there is a secondary characteristic 
 which is essential. Every association must, in some 
 degree, prescribe common rules of action for its 
 members. These rules may be very few and very 
 rudimentary, and -they commonly deal with the 
 conduct of the members only in relation to the 
 purposes of the association, though they often 
 include written or unwritten moral rules of conduct 
 designed to preserve the reputation of the associa- 
 tion, and to act as a sort of elementary guarantee of 
 personal honor. These rules generally include both 
 general rules designed to cover particular cases as 
 they arise, and particular directions issued by the 
 governing body of the association for guidance in 
 particular cases directly. With this aspect of the 
 question we shall have to deal more fully when 
 we consider, in a later chapter, the problems of 
 democracy and representative government. 
 
 Our definition of the word "association" is clearly 
 very wide indeed. It excludes momentary groups 
 formed, without definite organization, to carry out 
 some single immediate object; but it includes all 
 organized groups possessed of a purpose entailing 
 a course of action. It draws no distinction between 
 groups whose purpose is in some sense political or 
 social or communal, and groups whose purpose is
 
 NAMES ANI> THEIR MEANING 41 
 
 purely sociable or recreational. It covers a football 
 club or a dining club fully as much as a Church, a 
 Trade Union or a political party. 
 
 Of course, it makes a great difference to the im- 
 portance of an association, not only how far it is 
 representative of those concerned in its purpose, but 
 also how important its purpose is. But it is imX 
 possible to draw a theoretical line of distinction 
 between associations which are "social" and asso- \j 
 ciations which are only sociable. For some practical J 
 purposes, as for representation upon public bodies, 
 it is no doubt essential to draw such a distinction; 
 but it is necessary to recognize that, however drawn, 
 it cannot be more than empirical. All associations 
 are, in their various manners and degrees, parts of 
 Society. 
 
 We can now turn to the word which, in the early 
 part of this chapter, was so often used in close con- 
 junction with the word "association." What is an \ 
 institution, and in what sense is the word used in 
 this book? I find the thing for which the word 
 stands difficult to define at all, and impossible to 
 define in any but a largely negative manner. It is 
 not, though it may manifest itself in or through, a 
 group or association, nor has it, strictly speaking, 
 any members. It does, of course, being a social 
 thing, appear in, and operate through, human beings 
 and associations ; but it depends for its institutional 
 status, not upon a particular group of persons who 
 are its members, frame its rules, and seek to effect 
 through it a common purpose, but upon a general / 
 acceptance and recognition by the members of the- 
 community, backed by a sustaining force of custom
 
 42 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 or tradition, with or without the sanction of law. 
 It is easily recognizable in some of its principal 
 instances marriage, monogamy, monarchy, peer- 
 age, caste, capitalism and many others belonging to 
 \different ages and civilizations. 
 
 But, side by side with this use of the word, there 
 is another use of the word "institution" which, 
 while it suits well enough our everyday convenience, 
 may easily be a source of confusion in a theoretical 
 treatment of the question. The word "institution" 
 is often used to denote not only such ideas or re- 
 lations as those instanced above, but also certain 
 actual human groups which are, in the sense in 
 which we have used the word, "associations." Thus 
 Army, Navy, Church and State, to say nothing of 
 less important bodies, are often directly referred to 
 as "institutions." 
 
 It is important to notice that, in the sense in 
 which we are using the word, Army, Navy, Church 
 and State are not "institutions," but associations 
 > in which institutions may be held to be embodied or 
 / expressed. Thus the Church is an association in 
 which the institution of religion is more or less per- 
 fectly embodied, the State an association more or 
 less perfectly embodying the institution of political 
 government, Army and Navy associations expres- 
 sive of the institution of natural force, and so on. 
 
 Now, an idea is not an "institution" merely 
 because it is widely or generally held or accepted. 
 It is an "institution" only if, in addition to being 
 so accepted, it is embodied in some external form 
 of social structure or communal custom, either in
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 43 
 
 an association or in some actual form of social 
 behavior. 
 
 We may, then, provisionally define an "institu- 
 tion" as a recognized custom or form of social 
 tradition or idea, manifested in and through human 
 beings either in their personal conduct and relation- 
 ships or through organized groups or associations. 
 Thus, the institution of monarchy is manifested in 
 a king, and the social recognition accorded to him, 
 the institution of peerage in the various peers and 
 their status, the institution of marriage in the vari- 
 ous married persons and their social recognition. In 
 the second group of cases, the position appears to 
 be rather different; for there we first encounter a 
 form of association and then recognize that its social 
 status is due largely to the fact that it embodies an 
 institution. In these cases, we have to study the 
 association directly as an association, and then to 
 study it further in its character as the embodiment 
 of an institution. 
 
 An institution is, in fact, an idea which is mani- 
 fested concretely in some aspect of social conduct, . 
 and which forms a part of the underlying assump- 
 tions of communal life. This does not make it 
 permanent, or immune from decay or dissolution, 
 though, as we shall see in a later chapter, 1 it does 
 give to it an additional strength and power of 
 survival. It can, however, change or decay. A 
 monarchical Society may become a Republic, if it 
 finds that the monarchical institution has outlived 
 its use. The Guild System was in the Middle Ages 
 
 'For a fuller treatment of the whole question, see Chap- 
 ter XIII.
 
 44 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the embodiment of an institution; but the modern 
 Companies which have descended from the Guilds 
 have sunk down to the level of unimportant asso- 
 ciations and have lost all claim to 'institutional 
 status. 
 
 But, although institutions and their embodiments 
 change, decay and die, it is characteristic of them to 
 possess a greater degree of permanence than belongs 
 to most associations. This relative permanence has 
 both its good and its bad side. It helps to assure to 
 an association or custom, which successfully em- 
 bodies an idea found to be vital to the community, a 
 greater stability than its members or its familiarity 
 alone could assure to it, by giving it a communal 
 sanction and status; but it also tends to cause the 
 survival of associations and customs which have ac- 
 quired an institutional character long after they have 
 ceased to be useful. Our estimate of the advantages 
 and disadvantages of institutions will depend mainly 
 upon our temperament. The temperamental Con- 
 servative (in no party sense) sees in institutions the 
 bulwark of Society: the temperamental innovator 
 sees in them the greatest barrier to progress. 
 
 We shall use the word "institution" in this book 
 mainly in a rather narrower sense than has been here 
 assigned to it. It will generally be used in con- 
 junction with the word "association" to denote 
 those institutions which are not, or are only in a 
 secondary sense, embodied as associations. When 
 I use it in the wider sense, to include institutions 
 which are also embodied in association, the context 
 will make clear the sense, and I think no confusion 
 will be created.
 
 NAMES AND THEIR MEANING 45 
 
 There is one further word which we must briefly 
 define before proceeding further. I have spoken 
 repeatedly of custom. Perhaps this word hardly 
 requires definition in the ordinary sense; for its 
 meaning is sufficiently clear. It means no more 
 and no less than a social habit or way of acting, 
 common to the members of a community or social 
 group, or at least widely enough diffused among 
 them over a long enough period of time to have 
 become in some degree taken for granted and acted 
 upon in normal circumstances without any conscious 
 exercise of deliberation. A custom is that which 
 most men do naturally when placed in the appro- 
 priate circumstances. It is as vital to a community 
 to have customs as it is vital to an individual to have 
 instincts; for customs are to the community, as 
 instincts are to the individual mind labor-saving 
 devices born of long use by successive generations. 1 
 
 Customs, then, are a vital part of the being of 
 community ; but they do not, as customs, enter into 
 the structure of Society the organized part of the 
 community. They enter into Society only when 
 they become institutions, like marriage, or when 
 their maintenance becomes a purpose to an associa- 
 tion or institution. We shall therefore have little 
 to say of them in this book, not because they are 
 not important, but because, where they appear, 
 they will appear largely under other forms. 
 
 Before I close this chapter, I must endeavor to 
 clear away a difficulty which may easily have arisen 
 in the reader's mind. I have spoken of the com- 
 
 1 Compare Samuel Butler's Life and Habit and Prof. James 
 Ward's Heredity and Memory.
 
 46 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 munity as sustaining and of Society as being made 
 up of, associations and institutions, and of the latter 
 as being, in different senses, within Society and 
 within the community. Yet it is manifest that very 
 many associations and institutions are international, 
 and extend far beyond the boundaries of social area 
 clearly recognizable as communities and social com- 
 plexes which are clearly Societies. Does not this 
 present a difficulty ? 
 
 It will be seen that no difficulty is involved if our 
 original discussion of community is borne in mind. 
 We saw that two or more communities constantly 
 claim the allegiance of a single individual. The 
 family, the city, the nation, the group of closely 
 related nations, the world all these are communities. 
 Every association or institution, however wide- 
 spread, therefore exists within the area of some 
 community. International associations for specific 
 purposes is the forerunner of a closer-knit interna- 
 tional community, and can only exist because, in a 
 rudimentary form, international community is al- 
 ready a fact. 
 
 Similarly, even international associations are 
 within a Society, however rudimentary. They are 
 the forerunners of a real Society of Nations which 
 will be as necessary an expression of international 
 community as Society within a nation is of national 
 community. Internationally above all, free asso- 
 ciation helps to develop the sense of community on 
 which it is based, and to forward the creation of an 
 international social complex for the expression of 
 that community.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION 
 
 /% LTHOUGH our last chapter was concerned 
 y^primarily with definitions, a number of im- 
 portant conclusions have emerged from it. 
 We have learnt to regard community as a complex 
 of individuals, associations, institutions and customs 
 in varied and multiform relationships; we have 
 learnt to regard Society as a complex of associations 
 and institutions expressing, not the whole of the 
 communal life, but that part of it which is organ- 
 ized ; and we have learnt to see in associations bodies 
 created by the wills of individuals for the expression 
 and fulfillment of purposes which they have in com- 
 mon. We have, in fact, already penetrated the 
 essential and underlying structure of social life. 
 
 There is, however, at least one point of ultimate 
 principle in relation to which our vision is still 
 fundamentally incomplete. Our method has forced 
 us so far to look at each form of social structure in 
 something like isolation from the others. We have 
 analyzed and defined; but we have not, except in 
 relation to community, as yet made clear the struc- 
 tural principle which makes the complexities of 
 social life into something at least approaching a 
 coherent whole. The underlying principle of com- 
 
 47
 
 48 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 munity, indeed, is neither more nor less than com- 
 munity itself the sense of unity and social brother- 
 hood which permeates a mass of men and women 
 and makes them, in a real se.nse, one. But we have 
 not seen what is the underlying principle of social 
 organisation, a principle which must be distinct from 
 the principle of community, however dependent 
 upon it. This principle is the principle of Function. 
 Most people know something of those ethical 
 theories which, from the time of Plato onwards, 
 have made "function" their governing principle. 
 In ethics the principle is that each individual should 
 seek not his own self-interest as such, nor his own 
 self -development or self-expression as such, but 
 the fulfillment of his function in the social whole of 
 which he forms a part. His "end" is not to be an 
 isolated or purely personal end, but an end which at 
 once places him in relation to something beyond 
 himself. Pushed to an extreme, this theory may 
 easily result not merely in a denial of all democracy, 
 but in a denial of personality itself as an ultimate or 
 "end" in a glorification and personification of 
 Society in which human values are largely lost, and 
 the personal aspects of life rigidly subordinated to 
 the collective elements. "Function" is eminently 
 unsatisfactory as an ethical principle, that is, as the 
 principle which should determine individual conduct, 
 not because each individual has not, in a very real 
 sense, his function to fulfill, but because he has so 
 many various functions, and because it is just in the - 
 choice of and between functions and in assigning 
 their relative places to the many functions, social 
 and personal, of which we are conscious, that our
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION 49 
 
 selfhood appears as a coodinating principle beyond 
 any of them. 
 
 But the fact that function is not the paramount 
 ethical principle does not mean that it is not the 
 paramount principle of social organization. We have 
 seen that men make, and enter into, associations for 
 the purpose of satisfying common wants, that is, in 
 terms of action, for the execution of common pur- 
 poses. Every such purpose or group of purposes is 
 the basis of the function of the association which 
 has been called into being for its fulfillment. Again, " 
 every institution in Society has an object which 
 has determined the main lines of its growth. 
 The fulfillment of this object is, then, the necessary 
 basis of the function of the institution. Of course, 
 either an association or an institution may be itself 
 complex and have a variety of related purposes or 
 objects, and therefore perhaps a variety of related 
 functions. But as the purpose or object behind an 
 association or institution must be specific and in 
 some degree intelligible in order to have the power to 
 call the association or institution into being, so the 
 functions of all associations and institutions, how- 
 ever they may change and develop, are, in the last 
 resort, also specific. 
 
 This is the reason why the functional principle is 
 finally applicable to associations and institutions, 
 but not to individuals. ;Every individual is in his 
 nature universal : his actions and courses of action, 
 his purposes and desires, are specific because he 
 makes them so; but he himself is not, and cannot 
 be, made specific, and therefore cannot be expressed 
 in terms of function. This essential difference
 
 50 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 makes once more manifest the falsity of the parallel 
 that is often drawn between individuals and as- 
 sociations. An association is not, and cannot be, 
 in any real sense, a "person," because it is specific 
 and functional, and not universal. The individual 
 becomes "functional," or rather "multi-functional," 
 only by limiting himself; the association is func- 
 tional and limited by its very nature. 
 
 But function is not so much the final cause of 
 each separate association, as the principle under- 
 lying the unity and coherence of associations. We 
 have seen that the value and full development of 
 Society depends not only on the wide prevalence 
 and diffusion of association in the Commonwealth, 
 but also on the successful cooperation and coherence 
 of the various associations. The possibility of this 
 coherence depends upon the fulfillment by each as- 
 sociation of its social function. In so far as the 
 various associations fulfill their respective social 
 purposes, and in so far as these purposes are them- 
 selves complementary and necessary for social well- 
 being, the welter of associations in the community 
 is converted into a coherent Society. In so far as 
 the associations work irrespective of their function 
 in a social whole, or set before themselves purposes 
 which are mutually contradictory and irreconcilable 
 with the good of the whole, the development out of 
 the welter of associations of a coherent Society is 
 thwarted and retarded. 
 
 It will be observed that a new consideration has 
 been introduced into the argument in the course of 
 the preceding paragraph. In treating function as 
 the characteristic, not of an isolated association, but
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OH FUNCTION 51 
 
 of an association as a factor in a coherent social 
 whole, or at least a social whole capable of coherence, 
 we have introduced a consideration of value which 
 compels us to scrutinize the purpose of each particu- 
 lar association in the light of its communal value 
 in and for the whole. 
 
 This consideration is, of course, in no sense novel. 
 The point is clearly stated, although the implications 
 of it are not clearly realized, in Rousseau's Discourse 
 on Political Economy in the following words : 1 
 
 "Every political Society is composed of other 
 smaller societies of different kinds, each of which 
 has its interests and rules of conduct; but those 
 societies which everybody perceives, because 
 they have an external and authorized form, are 
 not the only ones which actually exist in the com- 
 munity : all individuals who are united by a com- 
 mon interest compose as many others, temporary 
 or permanent, whose influence is none the less real 
 because it is less apparent, and the proper obser- 
 vation of whose relations is the true knowledge of 
 public morals and manners." 
 Thus, if we view an association as an isolated 
 unit, its object can be only the fulfillment of what- 
 ever purpose or purposes its members have created 
 and maintain it to fulfill. Its will is, in Rousseau's 
 sense, "general" 2 in relation to the members of 
 
 1 Rousseau, Political Economy, my (Everyman) edition, 
 P- 253. 
 
 * The use of the word "general" in this connection must not 
 be understood as contradicting, what was said earlier, that 
 the function of every association is "specific" and not "gen- 
 eral." Its purpose and function remain "specific," whether the 
 will behind it be "general" or "particular."
 
 52 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the association, but "particular" in relation to the 
 community as a whole. 
 
 The members of an association, as we have seen, 
 can only come together and work together in the 
 association if they have, to a certain extent, a com- 
 mon object or purpose. Clearly, such a purpose 
 may be one that is socially desirable, or it may be 
 one that hardly affects any person outside the 
 association for either good or ill, or it may be defi- 
 nitely anti-social. The mere fact that the associa- 
 tion seeks only the "interest" of its own members 
 (as, if the word "interest" is understood in a wide 
 enough sense, every association, like every individ- 
 ual, must do), is not enough to make it anti-social, 
 or to prevent it from being socially desirable. It is 
 for the good of the community that each group with- 
 in it should keep itself amused, instructed, devel- 
 oped; for these goods of individuals are, so far, 
 clear additions to the common stock of happiness, 
 which can only be the happiness of individuals. An 
 association becomes anti-social not in seeking the 
 good of its own members, but in seeking their good 
 in ways which detract from the good of others. 
 Such detraction only occurs either when one asso- 
 ciation's objects come into conflict with those of an- 
 other, so that both cannot be fully satisfied, or when 
 an association aims at an object which conflicts 
 with the personal objects of some individual, 
 whether a member of the association or not. Wher- 
 ever such a conflict occurs, coherence is impaired, 
 and the complementary working of associations and 
 individuals is made less perfect. The existence of 
 conflict shows that something is wrong; but it does
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION 53 
 
 not, of course, show on which side the wrong lies, 
 or how it is distributed between the two. 
 
 We seem here to be confronted with a difficulty. 
 We cannot accept the objects of each association, 
 just as its members have made them, as making 
 for a coherent Society and a development of the 
 sense of community. It is, indeed, manifest that 
 very many associations, in seeking a partial good 
 for their own members, are acting anti-socially and 
 impairing the coherence of Society as a whole. We 
 
 , , .... / . . . VA1.TC.A' 
 
 must, therefore, criticise the value associations in 
 accordance with some "definite standard. 
 
 The term "function" is in itself, as applied to 
 associations, a reference to such a standard of 
 value; for it places each association in relation, 
 not only to its own members, but to other associa- 
 tions and institutions, that is, to Society, and also 
 to individuals to both the organized and the un- 
 organized parts of social life, that is, to Community. 
 If our first question in relation to any association 
 must be, "What are the purposes which this as- 
 sociation was created and is maintained by its mem- 
 bers to subserve?" we ask that question only in order 
 to be able the better to proceed at once to a second 
 question, "What is the function which this associa- 
 tion can serve in Society and in community?" 
 
 This does not mean, of course, that it is possible 
 arbitrarily to determine from outside what the func- 
 tion of an association is. The first question is no 
 less essential than, and is essential to, the second. 
 A "function" can only be based upon a purpose. If 
 men have formed an association for one purpose, we 
 cannot properly tell them that its function is to
 
 54 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 do something quite different which has never entered 
 into their heads. The fact that the purposes of 
 men in associations change and develop does indeed 
 enable us to some extent to anticipate changes and 
 developments, and to say that an association will 
 find its true function by proceeding along a line of 
 development along which it has already begun to 
 move. But, apart from such intelligent anticipa- 
 tions, we are limited in assigning to any association 
 its function to the purposes which its members have 
 set before themselves in creating and maintaining it. 
 
 Social purposes are, thus, the raw material of so- 
 cial functions, and social functions are social pur- 
 poses selected and placed in coherent relationship. 
 This selection cannot have a purely scientific basis; 
 for it is a matter of ends as well as means, and de- 
 pends upon individual standards of value and the 
 kind of social life which the individual desires. 
 Thus at this, as at every other fundamental point of 
 social theory, we are driven back upon the individ- 
 ual consciousness and judgment as the basis of all 
 social values. Mr. Colvin of the Morning Post re- 
 gards one kind of social life as finally desirable, and 
 I another. There is a sense in which I believe most 
 firmly that I am right and he is wrong; but social 
 theory cannot reconcile that fundamental difference 
 between us which is a difference of ends, though 
 it may clear away misunderstandings and prevent 
 loose thinking on both sides. 
 
 Each of us has in his mind, whether we rational- 
 ize and systematize it or not, some conception of the 
 sort of social life which is ultimately desirable. 
 Our conceptions of the functions of particular
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION 55 
 
 associations are inevitably formed in the light of our 
 ultimate conception of social value. In laying bare 
 the basis of community it should be possible for 
 men of varying standards and temperaments to 
 agree; but I am fully conscious that in the later 
 chapters of this book I shall inevitably, as I come 
 to deal with more concrete subjects, more and more 
 obtrude my own standards of valuation. I can lay 
 bare the functional basis of association without 
 bringing my temperament into the argument; but 
 as soon as I begin to deal with the actual function 
 of any particular association there will certainly be 
 wigs on the green. 
 
 That point in the argument, however, we have 
 not yet reached. We must first carry a good deal 
 further our examination of the principle of function 
 in its general application. Function, we have seen, 
 emerges clearly when, and only when, an association 
 is regarded, not in isolation, but in relation to other 
 associations and to individuals, that is, to some ex- 
 tent in relation to a system of associations, a So- 
 ciety, and a system of associations and individuals, 
 a community. Such a system evidently implies a 
 more or less dear demarcation of spheres as between 
 the various functional associations, in order that 
 each may make its proper contribution to the whole 
 without interfering with the others. It is, however, 
 easy, in search of symmetry, to push this point too 
 far. It is essential that the main lines of demarca- 
 tion should be laid down, and, in the case of the 
 more vital forms of association, that they should 
 be most carefully and exactly drawn, wherever 
 possible by experience rather than by arbitrary
 
 56 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 "constitution-making"; but in the case of the less 
 vital forms of association, which affect the general 
 structure of Society only in a small degree either for 
 good or for ill, the same exact delimitation of 
 spheres is unnecessary, and even undesirable as de- 
 tracting from the freedom and spontaneity of asso- 
 ciation. 
 
 We must indeed bear in mind always that asso- 
 ciations are not mere machines, but are capable of 
 growth and development. We must not, therefore, 
 even in the case of the most vital associations, so 
 exactly define their function and sphere of operation 
 for to-day as to prevent them from developing the 
 power to exercise their function of to-morrow. If 
 we do, the result will not be in most cases what we 
 expect. The association will develop in spite of 
 prohibition ; but in developing it may well break the 
 Society which encloses it, or at the least cause vast 
 waste of energy and unnecessary friction. We must 
 remember always that it is of vital importance for a 
 community not to be compelled constantly to make 
 for itself new sets of associations, but rather to de- 
 velop out of old ones the changed forms which are 
 required for the fulfillment of new functions. It 
 is this vital need of community that makes it so im- 
 portant to preserve as far as possible the freedom 
 of association and the greatest spontaneity of asso- 
 ciative action that is consistent with social coherence. 
 
 There are, of course, risks attaching to this 
 course. If association is left largely free and un- 
 trammeled, many associations, instead of fulfilling 
 their function in the social whole, will concern the'm- 
 selves to a considerable extent in fulfilling even the
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION 57 
 
 anti-social purposes of their members, or in doing 
 something which, while it is in itself not anti-social 
 but even socially valuable, falls within the function 
 of some other form of association. There arise in 
 this way two main forms of perversion of function, 
 leading respectively to opposition and to confusion 
 in Society. These two forms of perversion cannot, 
 of course, be kept clearly distinct; for they often 
 appear together in the same association and in the 
 same act. They are, however, theoretically dis- 
 tinct, and we can, at the outset, examine them sepa- 
 rately. 
 
 Opposition arises, as we have seen, when an 
 association pursues a purpose which, being a pur- 
 pose of its own members, 1 is anti-social in that 
 it not only conflicts with the purposes of other 
 associations or individuals, but with the good of the 
 community. Opposition, then, arises from the pur- 
 suit of anti-social purposes. Strictly speaking, no 
 anti-social purpose can be a part of the function 
 of an association, in the sense in which we are using 
 the term "function." But, as a function is always 
 a complex thing, the element of "opposition" may 
 arise in the course of the pursuit of a socially 
 desirable function. Thus, the production of com- 
 modities for use and the preservation of order are 
 both socially desirable functions; but either of 
 them may be pursued in anti-social ways which 
 give rise to "opposition" and perversion of func- 
 tion. If an association producing commodities 
 for use makes its main object not the production 
 
 *Or, of course, of an effective majority or effective "con- 
 scious minority" of them.
 
 58 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 for use, but the realization of a profit for its mem- 
 bers, perversion of function arises. Commodities 
 are still produced "for use" in a sense; but the 
 function of the association is perverted by the intro- 
 duction of the profit-making purpose. Similarly, 
 if an association whose function is the preservation 
 of order preserves order in the interest of a single 
 class and deals unequal justice to rich and poor, 
 law and order are still partially preserved; but the 
 function of the association is perverted by its par- 
 tiality and the foundations of justice are to some 
 extent undermined. We shall have much more to 
 say of this subject when we come to consider the 
 economic structure of Society and the problem of 
 class-divisions within the community. 
 
 Confusion arises when two associations attempt 
 to fulfill the same purpose, and when the purpose 
 is such as requires not a multiplicity of doers, but 
 doing on a coordinated plan. Such confusion 
 may be perfectly bona fide and even fortuitous. 
 There are functions which lie on the border-line of 
 two or more associations, but which must be ful- 
 filled by only one if confusion is to be avoided. 
 Again, there are many cases in which two or more 
 associations, whose purposes were originally dis- 
 tinct, develop towards the same object, and become 
 wholly or partly identical in function. Such cases 
 are often dealt with by amalgamation; but failing 
 this or an agreed re-allocation of functions, con- 
 fusion arises. Again, in many cases there is some 
 job which badly needs doing, and two or more 
 groups of men simultaneously conceive the idea 
 of forming an association for the doing of it. Here
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION 59 
 
 again amalgamation is often the obvious remedy. 
 Many other cases can easily be brought to mind 
 in which confusion of functions arises even where 
 the purposes of the associations concerned are ad- 
 mitted to be socially desirable or not harmful. 
 
 Mingled confusion and opposition, involving a 
 double perversion of function, is very frequent. 
 Let us return to our case of the production of com- 
 modities. Under the existing economic order of 
 Society, there is more than one party to such pro- 
 duction. Employers and workers are alike strongly, 
 and separately, organized in economic associations. 
 Very often the employers in a given industry and the 
 workers in that industry are endeavoring to secure 
 the adoption of diametrically opposite policies in 
 relation to the same thing. Their purposes are 
 opposed, and, without entering into the moral 
 factors in the situation, we can see that this often 
 leads to perversion of the function of the association 
 by way both of opposition and of confusion. That 
 is to say, both associations seek to cover to some 
 extent the same field of activity and this leads to 
 confusion, even if their points of view are not 
 fundamentally opposed; but often in addition 
 each advocates a different policy, so that not only 
 confusion, but also actual conflict, results. 
 
 It is important to notice that perversion of func- 
 tion in one case, especially where the perversion 
 gives rise to actual opposition, frequently leads to, 
 and even necessitates, perversion of function in 
 other cases. If the appropriate organization is not 
 fulfilling a particular function, it may become 
 necessary or desirable for some other organization,
 
 60 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 less fitted by its nature for the task, to undertake 
 to fulfill it as best it can. Again, if one association 
 is fulfilling its function in a perverted manner, so 
 as to serve a sectional instead of a general interest, 
 it may be necessary or desirable for some other 
 organization to intervene in order to redress the 
 balance. Current controversies about the use of 
 direct action (i.e. the strike) for political purposes 
 serve to illustrate this point. It is contended by 
 many of the advocates of direct action that the per- 
 version of function on the part of the State makes it 
 necessary for the Trade Unions to act in the indus- 
 trial field in order to counteract the effects of this 
 political perversion. It falls outside the scope of 
 our present inquiry to determine whether this 
 argument is sound or not in any particular case; 
 but it is clear that such cases can and do arise. 
 
 At the same time, it must always be remembered 
 that perversion of functions is always, in itself, a 
 bad thing, whether it is spontaneous perversion or 
 consequential perversion designed to counteract a 
 perversion which has already taken place. It may 
 be necessary in certain cases; but the mere fact 
 of its necessity is a clear indication that all is not 
 well with Society. When Society is in health, each 
 association fulfills its social function with the mini- 
 mum of perversion. 
 
 Indeed, when counteracting forms of perversion 
 become necessary on any large scale, they serve as a 
 clear indication that the structure of Society re- 
 quires to be overhauled. Perversion, carried to an 
 extreme, and accompanied by its counteracting 
 forms leads to revolution, followed by a reconstruc-
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OP FUNCTION 61 
 
 tion of the body social. Such revolution can, of 
 course, be more or less complete; and involve a 
 more or less complete reconstructing and a more or 
 less complete "sweep" of the old social regime. 
 Often, less degrees of perversion and counter-per- 
 version compel a readjustment of social organiza- 
 tion without the need for a general evolution in the 
 body social. The first so-called "revolution" in 
 Russia was rather such a readjustment than a real 
 revolution; but, this proving inadequate, it was 
 followed by the "November Revolution," which was 
 a real revolution involving a fundamental recon- 
 struction of Society. 
 
 It is impossible to study the forms of functional 
 perversion with any completeness without a fairly 
 thorough examination of the problem of social 
 classes, which has been responsible, at least in 
 recent times, for by far the greatest amount of 
 perversion. It is also Impossible to make the study 
 complete without dealing with the position of 
 organized religion, i.e. Churches, in Society; for 
 religious differences have been, at least in former 
 times, almost equally potent causes of perversion. 
 Both these points, however, must be reserved for 
 later consideration. In this chapter, our object 
 has been merely that of laying bare the functional 
 principle itself, on the basis on which Society, as 
 a complex of associations and institutions, must 
 rest if it is to achieve any degree of coherence or to 
 make possible a real and abiding spirit of commu- 
 nity. Perversion of function, by destroying the co- 
 herence of social organization, not only upsets the 
 balance of Society, but stirs up bad blood between
 
 62 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the members of the community, and thereby impairs 
 that part of the life of the individual which falls 
 outside the sphere of social organization, almost 
 equally with that part which falls within it. Due 
 performance by each association of its social func- 
 tion, on the other hand, not only leads to smooth 
 working and coherence in social organization, but 
 also removes the removable social hindrances to the 
 "good life" of the individual. In short, function 
 is the key not only to "social," but also to com- 
 munal and personal well-being.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE FORMS AND MOTIVES OF ASSOCIATION 
 
 THE time has now come for a more thorough 
 examination of the forms of association which 
 exist in Society, and for some further dis- 
 cussion of the social character of the motives under- 
 lying association. I do not mean that an exhaustive 
 enumeration of the forms of association, or even an 
 exhaustive classification of them, is either possible 
 or desirable still less that the motives behind 
 association can be satisfactorily reduced to a few 
 broad and simple categories. The object of this 
 chapter is essentially tentative. I shall only try 
 to enumerate and classify the main forms of asso- 
 ciation those which possess the greatest degree of 
 social content, and to discuss briefly those dominant 
 social motives which are constantly appearing in 
 many diverse forms of association. 
 
 Even apart from the limitations of our space and 
 time, there is one fact which would by itself forbid 
 any exhaustive catalogue. Social association is for- 
 ever assuming new forms and discarding old -ones, 
 as new problems emerge for men to deal with, and 
 as men change their attitude towards the problems 
 which confront them. The fountain of association 
 
 63
 
 64 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 does not run dry, and it is impossible to enumerate 
 all those who come to drink of its waters. More- 
 over, if we could enumerate to-day, our list would be 
 out of date to-morrow ; for new forms of association 
 would have arisen which very possibly would not 
 fit into any classification which we might have de- 
 vised on the basis of our present knowledge. 
 
 Nevertheless, we can usefully proceed to a classi- 
 fication of a sort. While new forms of association 
 are constantly arising, the essential forms of 
 association only vary over considerable periods. 
 That even the most essential forms do vary, appear 
 and disappear, cannot be denied. There have been 
 many independent communities without a State; 
 yet to most people to-day the State appears to be an 
 essential form of association. The Guilds were an 
 essential form in the Middle Ages; but where are 
 the Guilds to-day? It is true that we have to-day 
 instead of craft Guilds many other forms of eco- 
 nomic associations; but is even economic associa- 
 tion an essential form for all communities? Have 
 there not been communities devoid of distinct eco- 
 nomic organization ? This can only be denied by those 
 who persist, in face of all vital considerations, in 
 regarding the family in certain primitive Societies 
 as primarily and distinctly an economic association. 
 The family in these Societies certainly had eco- 
 nomic, among other, functions; but this is not 
 enough to constitute it as, in its fundamental char- 
 acter, an economic association. 
 
 We must recognize, then, not only that the forms 
 of association vary constantly from day to day, but 
 also that even the essential forms vary over longer
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 65 
 
 periods. Our classification therefore has reference, 
 not to all social situations, but to the social situation 
 of the civilized communities of our own day. Even 
 so it is necessarily imperfect ; for the institutions of 
 revolutionized Russia and Hungary require, in some 
 respects, a new classification, and a revolution else- 
 where in civilized countries may compel a general 
 amendment of the classification which is adopted 
 here. The nearer we approach in this book to the 
 study of actual social organizations, the more 
 limited and inadequate we shall necessarily find our 
 generalizations to become. 
 
 It will be a part of our object in this chapter, 
 not merely to describe the outstanding forms of 
 association in our own day and generation, but to 
 attempt, to some extent, to discriminate between 
 essential and non-essential forms. This is, of 
 course, a matter of degree, and no definite line can 
 be drawn. There are, however, apart from doubtful 
 cases, certain forms of association which can fitly 
 be described as essential to Society, and certain 
 others which are not essential to Society. It must 
 be made clear at the outset that this discrimination 
 does not imply any moral valuation. All associa- 
 tions must finally be judged and valued by their 
 service to the individuals who are members of the 
 community, and it may well be found that some of 
 the associations which are here classified as non- 
 essential are of transcendent value to the individual. 
 This, however, is not the question with which I am 
 here concerned. It is purely with social essen- 
 tiality that our classification deals. That is to say, 
 a part of my present purpose is to discriminate
 
 66 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 between those associations which form an integral 
 part of the organized coherence of Society, from 
 those which, however great their value, are not in 
 this sense integral and essential to organized Society. 
 The meaning and purpose of this discrimination will 
 emerge more clearly at a later stage. 
 
 We may reasonably expect to find the essential 
 forms of association among those forms which are 
 outstanding, and occur to the mind naturally as 
 typical forms. It does not follow by any means 
 that all outstanding forms are essential: I have 
 only said that essential forms are likely to be out- 
 standing. We must begin, then, with at least a 
 partial classification of outstanding forms. 
 
 This classification cannot be entirely simple in 
 character; for there are two different principles on 
 which it must be based. We have to consider both 
 (a) the content of the interest which the association 
 sets before itself; and (b) its method of operation 
 in relation to that interest. The first of these 
 principles is of supreme importance in revealing the 
 interrelation in Society of the various forms of 
 association, that is, their specific, functions; the sec- 
 ond is of primary importance in discriminating be- 
 tween essential and non-essential forms. 
 
 According to the first of these two ways of classi- 
 fication, we have to distinguish between associations 
 according to the content of their various interests. 
 Here the chief forms which emerge at once into 
 view are the political, the vocational and appetitive, 
 the religious, the provident, the philanthropic, the 
 sociable, and the theoretic. There are others; but
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 67 
 
 most of the prevalent forms of association fall un- 
 der one or another of these heads. 
 
 Of some of the more important forms of political 
 association we shall have much more to say in the 
 next chapter, when we deal with the State and 
 kindred forms of association and institution. We 
 must, however, say something of them here. By 
 a political association I mean an association of 
 which the main purpose is to deal with those 
 personal relationships which arise directly out of 
 the fact that men live together in communities, 
 and which require, and are susceptible to, social 
 organization. I freely admit that it is almost 
 impossible to define accurately or clearly the nature 
 and functions of political association, and I must 
 make it plain that nothing that is said in this chapter 
 is intended to prejudge the question, discussed in 
 the next chapter, whether the State, for instance, 
 can be regarded as a purely political association in 
 the sense here given to the word. That is a very big 
 question indeed; but it does not affect the present 
 issue. I am here, and throughout this book, using 
 the term "political" in a definite and limited sense, 
 in which it is contrasted with vocational, religious 
 and other functional terms. 
 
 A political association, then, is an association of 
 which the purposes and interests are primarily 
 "political" in the sense defined above. The defi- 
 nition includes not only the State qua association, 
 and the various less extensive regional and local 
 authorities operating as political bodies within the 
 geographical area included in a State, but also, as 
 we shall see, in a secondary sense, many other forms
 
 68 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 of association which are also "political" in their 
 interest a political party or society or any bodies 
 concerned with the advocacy of any form of political 
 doctrine or policy. Parliament, and the County 
 Borough of Smethwick, in so far as they are asso- 
 ciations, fall, in this classification, under the same 
 heading as the Liberal Party or the Anti- Vaccina- 
 tion League. 
 
 A vocational association may be defined as an 
 association consisting of persons who are and whose 
 purpose or interest in the association is directly and 
 primarily concerned with the production, distribu- 
 tion or exchange of some commodity, or the render- 
 ing of some service, or with some question or course 
 of action directly subordinate to one or more of 
 these interests. It thus includes the whole range of 
 professional and occupational association, from that 
 of manual workers to that of technicians and ex- 
 perts, and to that of employers and traders and capi- 
 talists. A Trade Union, a professional institute or 
 society, an Employers' Association, a Limited Com- 
 pany, the British Empire Producers' Organization, 
 the British Medical Association, and the National 
 Union of Teachers are all instances of vocational 
 association. 
 
 It will have been noticed that, in the preliminary 
 list of the main forms of association under this 
 classification, vocational association was specially 
 linked with another form, which, for want of a bet- 
 ter word, I am forced to call appetitive. It must be 
 made clear at once that the word is not used in any 
 bad or derogatory sense. By appetitive associations 
 I mean those bodies whose members' primary con-
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 69 
 
 cern in the association is not, as in the case of voca- 
 tional associations, with production or the rendering 
 of service, but with consumption and use, that is, 
 with the securing of a supply on fair terms of the 
 commodities produced and the services rendered by, 
 or under the auspices of, vocational associations. 
 The consumers' Cooperative Movement, the Rail- 
 way Season-Ticket Holders' Association, the Com- 
 mercial Gas Users' Association, and the Parents' 
 National Educational Union are all examples of ap- 
 petitive association. This form, it will readily be 
 seen, is mainly complementary to vocational associa- 
 tion, the two forms corresponding to the double re- 
 lations of buying and selling, demand and supply, re- 
 ceiving and giving. Different schools of social 
 propagandists lay very different stresses upon the 
 relative importance of these two complementary 
 forms of association. 
 
 It is perhaps necessary barely to notice here a 
 point which will be more fully dealt with in later 
 chapters. There are certain schools of thought 
 which regard the State, and with it the local author- 
 ities, as primarily associations of consumers and 
 users, that is to say as, in our sense, appetitive asso- 
 ciations. Similarly, some schools of Communists 
 regard the Commune as primarily an association of 
 producers and service Tenderers, that is, in our sense, 
 a vocational association. These theories lead directly 
 to different views as to the proper constitution of 
 State or Commune; but, as they do not affect our 
 present classification, consideration of them can be 
 postponed till a later stage. 
 
 We come next to those forms of association which
 
 70 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 can be called religious. These include not only or- 
 ganized Churches and Connections, but also propa- 
 gandist movements which aim at securing a religious 
 object, such as the "Life and Liberty Movement" 
 within the Church of England. As we shall have 
 much more to say of them later, they need not de- 
 tain us here. 
 
 The next important form of association is the 
 provident, in which a number of persons join to- 
 gether for mutual assistance, whether under a defi- 
 nite scheme of contributions and benefits for certain 
 purposes, or for a less rigid and definite form of 
 mutual help or beneficence. A Friendly Society, or 
 other mutual insurance associations, whether among 
 workers or among capitalists in a particular trade 
 (e.g. shipping), or among teachers or clergymen, or 
 on a basis which takes no account of occupation, 
 falls under this head. Many Insurance Companies 
 are, of course, not provident and mutual, but profit- 
 making concerns, which belong to the sphere of vo- 
 cational organization ; but the great Friendly Socie- 
 ties with their millions of members afford a large- 
 scale example of real provident associations. Trade 
 Unions also are, of course, in their aspect of benefit 
 societies, assignable to this class of association. 
 
 Closely allied to provident associations in certain 
 respects, though very different from them in others, 
 are the many associations which exist not for the 
 securing of benefits for their own members, but for 
 the conferring of benefits on other people. Charit- 
 able Societies of whatever type, whether they actu- 
 ally confer benefits or merely meddle with other peo- 
 ple's affairs, and associations which deal with moral
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 71 
 
 rather than material benefits for others, can be 
 grouped together under this head. Philanthropic 
 will serve for a name for this very mixed class. 
 
 Next conies what is perhaps the largest of all 
 groups of associations, those of a purely or mainly 
 sociable character. These are found in their pure 
 form in the vast number of football clubs, cricket 
 clubs, athletic associations, whist clubs, dancing 
 clubs, workmen's clubs, "clubmen's" clubs, night 
 clubs, and all the other types of associations devoted 
 purely to objects of sport, recreation and sociability. 
 Mixed forms are also frequently found. Constitu- 
 tional Clubs, Liberal Clubs, Labor Clubs and many 
 others are sociable in character, but are confined 
 to persons holding similar opinions, and partake 
 in some small degree of the nature of political as- 
 sociations. Purely sociable associations often fed- 
 erate with other associations of the same kind; but 
 generally speaking they are, if their federations and 
 tournaments are included, sufficient unto themselves. 
 Except when licensing or gaming laws are under 
 consideration, or some particularly ardent campaign 
 for public morality is in progress, they mix little, 
 as a rule, in the affairs of Society. 
 
 All the forms of association mentioned above are 
 in a definite sense practical and aim at the taking 
 of certain overt forms of action, whether adminis- 
 trative propagandist, or purely recreative. This is 
 not the case with the only remaining form of asso- 
 ciation with which we shall here concern ourselves, 
 the theoretical form. This includes learned and sci- 
 entific societies of every type, whatever their object 
 of study and discussion. As learning and science
 
 72 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 have a definite bearing on many practical affairs, 
 theoretic associations often tend to approximate to 
 one or another of the practical types, or to possess 
 a mixed character. Moreover, vocational associa- 
 tions, especially among technicians concerned with a 
 common body of knowledge, often pursue theoreti- 
 cal as well as practical ends. Many discuss both the 
 economic and other claims of their members and the 
 status of their profession, and also the theoretic 
 aspects of the science which they profess. Again, 
 the close relation between industry and science gives 
 rise to associations, half practical and half theo- 
 retical, concerned with the application of scientific 
 results and methods to industrial problems. The 
 numerous Industrial Research Associations which 
 have sprung up in recent years are examples of this 
 hybrid form. 
 
 So far we have been following entirely the first 
 of the two principles of classification with which 
 we set out and distinguishing associations accord- 
 ing to the content of their respective interests. We 
 have now to take up our other principle, and to 
 survey associations briefly according to their method 
 of operation.. We saw, in speaking of political, 
 and again of religious, associations, that they in- 
 cluded not only such bodies as States and Churches 
 respectively, but also all manner of other societies, 
 the content of whose purpose was political or re- 
 ligious. Our second principle will make plain the 
 difference between, say, a State and a political 
 party, or the Church of England and the "Life 
 and Liberty Movement" which aims at its regenera- 
 tion. The difference in both those cases is that
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 73 
 
 States and Churches are alike mainly administrative, 
 whereas political parties and movements among 
 Churchmen are mainly propagandist. 
 
 By an administrative association I mean an asso- 
 ciation which is primarily concerned, not with the 
 advocacy of any particular opinion, but with the 
 doing of some particular job, the arranging and 
 conducting of some particular part of the work 
 which has to be done in Society. This work may 
 be done in many different ways and with many 
 varying degrees of success. Thus the State may 
 be governed by the Unionist Party, the Liberal 
 Party, or the Labor Party, or by a Coalition; but 
 the primary concern of the State is not with Tory- 
 ism or Liberalism or Labor, but with the doing of 
 certain definite jobs with the work to be done, 
 and not with the days of doing it. 
 
 All the forms of association mentioned in our 
 previous classification include administrative asso- 
 ciations, which are indeed primary in every group. 
 Not only States and Churches, but also Trade 
 Unions, Limited Companies, cricket clubs, Friendly 
 Societies, charitable associations, scientific societies, 
 Cooperative Societies and the rest are principally 
 administrative in function, that is to say, they 
 exist not for the spreading of opinion, but for the 
 doing of things. In a very real sense, administra- 
 tive associations are primary, where propagandist 
 associations are only secondary, and it is among the 
 administrative associations that we shall fine the es- 
 sential social associations of which we are in search. 
 
 Propagandist associations have already been de- 
 fined by inference. They are those associations
 
 74 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 which exist not so much for the doing of a par- 
 ticular job, as for advocating that the job should 
 be done in a particular way, that a particular policy 
 or constitution should be adopted by the primary 
 association concerned with the doing of it. Propa- 
 gandist associations are secondary, because they 
 exist, not in order to do things themselves, but to 
 persuade primary associations and individuals into 
 a particular course of action. There is thus a sense 
 in which they aim at their own extinction; for, 
 when their policy is completely adopted, they cease 
 to have a reason for existence, unless they find a new 
 policy or remain in being in order to see that the 
 results already achieved are maintained. They may, 
 as a whole, be very necessary to Society ; .but no 
 particular propagandist association is essential to 
 the structure of Society. 
 
 Of course, I am not denying that all associations, 
 however propagandist, possess, in a secondary 
 sense, an administrative character, or that most 
 administrative associations also partake, in a similar 
 sense, of the propagandist character. But the dis- 
 tinction none the less holds; for the fact that no 
 association at all can exist without being confronted 
 by internal administrative problems does not make 
 the main purpose of the association administrative. 
 Similarly, the fact that an association engages in 
 certain forms of propagandist activity does not give 
 it a propagandist character. The projected estab- 
 lishment of a Propaganda Department of State 
 would not make the State a mainly propagandist 
 association. 
 
 We are now in a position to pursue rather further
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 75 
 
 our quest of the essential forms of social associa- 
 tion, not necessarily those essential for all time, but 
 those essential in our own day and civilization. It 
 has already been made clear that the term "essen- 
 tial" is not meant simply to imply any moral valua- 
 tion, and that it is purely social essentiality with 
 which we are here concerned. The key to essential- 
 ity is thus the performance of some function which 
 is vital to the coherent working of Society, and with- 
 out which Society would be lop-sided or incomplete. 
 We have seen that no particular propagandist asso- 
 ciation can be regarded as essential in this sense ; for, 
 although propaganda performs a highly desirable 
 function in keeping individuals and associations "up 
 to the scratch," they are not themselves concerned 
 with the direct execution of vital social functions. 
 Propagandist association in general is, no doubt, es- 
 sential; but no particular propagandist association 
 can claim essentiality except under one condition. 
 
 This condition is the atrophy or perversion of an 
 essential administrative association or institution. 
 Where this occurs, and the administrative body fails 
 to perform its function, propagandist organization 
 may be, for the moment, the only way of recalling 
 it to its function or, failing that, calling a new 
 body into being in its place. The propagandist 
 association is not, and can hardly become, this 
 new body; but it may be temporarily essential as a 
 means. 
 
 This, however, is only a partial exception to a 
 rule which holds good in general. It is among 
 administrative associations that the essential forms 
 must be sought. But not all such forms of associa-
 
 76 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 tion are essential. Society can do without any par- 
 ticular form of sociable association, as it can do 
 without any propagandist association, and although 
 it cannot do without sociable association as a whole. 
 The same applies to provident and philanthropic and 
 also to theoretic associations. Religious association, 
 on the other hand, must probably be regarded as 
 essential to almost every existing Society, because 
 religion as a personal emotion and belief is widely 
 diffused in almost every existing community. The 
 position of religious associations in Society is, how- 
 ever, as we shall see later, peculiar because of their 
 fundamentally and exclusively spiritual function. 1 
 
 We are left with the three forms of political, 
 vocational and appetitive association. Each of these 
 must, I think, be regarded as essential. Each deals 
 with a vital aspect of Social organization, with an 
 "interest" vital to the mass of the members of the 
 community, and each is based upon a deep-rooted 
 and vital instinct of association. It is mainly on the 
 right relationship of these three forms of association 
 that the coherent organization of Society depends. 
 I cannot hope to make this point absolutely clear at 
 the present stage; but I believe that it will emerge 
 with increasing clearness in the course of subsequent 
 chapters. 
 
 Even if we hold that a particular form of associa- 
 tion is essential, this is not by itself enough to es- 
 tablish the essentiality of any single association be- 
 longing to that class. Within each of the essential 
 forms we may expect to find, in any particular stage 
 of social development, certain actual associations 
 'See Chapter XI.
 
 77 
 
 which can be regarded as essential ; but, in order to 
 establish this, it is necessary to consider not only the 
 form of any association in question, but also its 
 particular content and the motives which animate 
 its members in their common action. Not every 
 association which is administrative in character and 
 political in content is sufficiently important to merit 
 the character of essentiality. For this it must have 
 a particular function which is vital enough to sub- 
 stantiate its claim. Thus, the State may be an 
 essential association; but, to take an extreme in- 
 stance, it is by no means clear that the unnatural 
 aggregation which we call a Rural District Council 
 can claim the same privilege. Again, in the voca- 
 tional sphere, it is essential that producers should be 
 organized; but it does not follow that each par- 
 ticular Trade Union or Employers' Association can 
 claim essentiality. The final test of essentiality is 
 practical, and cannot be made by any abstract or 
 scientific procedure. 
 
 There is, however, one further important test to 
 which associations for essentiality can be subjected. 
 In our preliminary discussion of the nature of as- 
 sociation, 1 we attempted a distinction between dif- 
 ferent types of motive which animate men in asso- 
 ciation. We drew a distinction between "several" 
 and "associative" motives, and discussed in some 
 detail .the bearings of this distinction on the social 
 import of associations. We saw that "associative" 
 wants and motives far more easily engendered a 
 sense of community than "several" wants, and there- 
 fore gave the association animated by them a higher 
 1 See ante, p. 34.
 
 78 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 status and made it, so far, a greater factor in the 
 making of Society. Our subsequent examination 
 of the main forms of association has placed us in a 
 position to appreciate more fully the bearing of this 
 distinction upon social theory, and also to develop 
 it somewhat further. 
 
 The mere fact that an association is animated 
 mainly by truly "associative" motives and interests 
 is not enough to establish the fact that it is fulfilling 
 a useful function in Society. For the "associative" 
 want which it seeks to fulfill, however "associative" 
 it may be, is so far only a want of the members of 
 the association, and may still be contrary to the 
 general interest of the community. An "associa- 
 tively" motived association, therefore, is not neces- 
 sarily a socially useful association. But as it is the 
 case that there is such a thing as general social 
 well-being, it is clear that the interests of the 
 members of a community do run together more 
 than they clash. The members of a community 
 have, ex hypothesi, a sense of unity and social re- 
 lationship, and, while they often organize in groups 
 which are opposed on particular points, there is 
 a prima facie reason for supposing that, in the ma- 
 jority of cases, where they cooperate on an associa- 
 tive basis for the fulfilling of a want which they 
 can only enjoy in common, the fulfillment of that 
 want is in the general interest. Moreover, as the 
 community can only find an organized expression 
 even so always a partial expression through social 
 associations and institutions, it is clear that asso- 
 ciations based on an associative want must be the 
 main ingredients in the Society. In them, men
 
 THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION 79 
 
 learn to cooperate closely and constantly; and close 
 and constant cooperation in the joint fulfillment of a 
 common object, though it is not necessarily to be 
 identified with the fulfillment of a socially useful 
 function, is the chief means by which men can learn 
 how to fulfill such functions. 
 
 It is not, however, generally possible to discrimi- 
 nate sharply between associations or forms of asso- 
 ciations, and to say that in this association or form 
 the basis is purely "several," and in the other, purely 
 "associative." Almost every association is, as we 
 have seen, a medley of different motives, and is 
 partly "several," and only in part truly "associa- 
 tive." But, in proportion as an association finds 
 and fulfills its function in Society, the "associative" 
 basis tends to become predominant, and the mo- 
 tive of "severalty" sinks into the background. The 
 best instance I can find of this may strike many 
 readers as being highly controversial; but I cite as 
 clearly illustrating my meaning and expressing my 
 own profound belief. A Trade Union used to be 
 defined as "a continuous association of wage-earners 
 for the purpose of maintaining or improving their 
 conditions of employment." Such a definition al- 
 most implies the complete dominance of "severalty" 
 in the motives animating the members of the asso- 
 ciation. But, in our own day, whatever its justifica- 
 tion in the past, this definition has become clearly 
 inadequate; for the increasing tendency of Trade 
 Unionists to claim for their associations not merely 
 better conditions, but a definite place in the control 
 of industry, plainly implies an emergence of truly 
 "associative" motives, and, in my own opinion, rep-
 
 80 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 resents a substantial development of Trade Union- 
 ism towards the performance of its proper social 
 function. 
 
 Be this as it may, it is clear that, as an association 
 changes and develops, it may change its motives 
 as well as its purposes, and may pass from a stage in 
 which "severalty" is predominant to one in which 
 it is mainly actuated by "associative" motives. This 
 is an indication, though it is not a proof, that the 
 association is moving towards the discovery of its 
 true function in Society. 
 
 This chapter has dealt entirely with the forms 
 and motives of association, and has only once or 
 twice cursorily mentioned the working of institu- 
 tions as distinct from associations. I have made 
 this omission advisedly, not because institutions are 
 not important, but because we have not yet reached 
 the stage at which it is possible to deal adequately 
 with them. This we shall be able to do only when 
 we liave examined successively the political, voca- 
 tional and appetitive (especially the economic), and 
 religious structure of Society, in which institutions 
 mainly appear. Upon this part of our inquiry we 
 can now embark without further delay.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE STATE 
 
 WHAT is the State? And what is its function 
 in Society and in the community? These 
 questions appear to us already in a different 
 light from that in which they appear in most books 
 on Social Theory. They are still vital problems; 
 but they are no longer the center of the whole 
 problem of community. The State, however im- 
 portant, is and can be for us no more than the 
 greatest and most permanent association or in- 
 stitution in Society, and its claim even to 
 any such position will have to be carefully con- 
 sidered. 
 
 We must bear in mind throughout our considera- 
 tion that it is not a question of The State, a sin- 
 gle unique entity existing alone in a circumambient 
 void, but of "States" existing in many different 
 communities at different stages of development, and 
 entering into the most varied relationships one with 
 another. When we speak of "the State," therefore, 
 we are only using a class-name to which we can 
 attach our generalizations as predicates. We are 
 ignoring non-essential differences between one State 
 and another, and concentrating on those essential 
 characteristics which States have in common. 
 
 81
 
 82 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 This, however, is to give too inclusive and gen- 
 eralized a scope to our treatment of the subject. 
 Although we shall sometimes be referring to char- 
 acteristics common to all States at all times and 
 stages of development, we shall be using in the main 
 for purposes of illustration "the modern State," 
 that is, the States which exist in our own time and 
 stage of civilization. Taking the nature common 
 to these States as our basis, we shall attempt to 
 arrive, from the study of their common nature, 
 at some conception of their true function in the 
 Society of to-day and to-morrow. Further than 
 that we can hardly hope to go; for a new genera- 
 tion and a new degree of social development will 
 inevitably call for a restatement of social theory. 
 
 Let us begin with a brief summary and analysis of 
 the principal activities of the modern State, that is, 
 of the States which exist in civilized communities in 
 the world of to-day. Here, again, it would, of 
 course, be useful to attempt a complete and ex- 
 haustive enumeration. Nor is it necessary to our 
 purpose, which is only that of securing sufficient ma- 
 terial to work upon in our attempt to discover the 
 State's function in the Society of to-day. As we 
 saw in our discussion of the principle of function, it 
 is far from being the case that every actual activity 
 of the State forms a part of its social function; but 
 it is the case that the function of the State can only 
 be sought among activities which the State does, in 
 some degree, already exercise. In order to discover 
 the function of the State, it is therefore necessary to 
 adopt a double procedure. We have first to ex- 
 amine, and select from, the actual activities of the
 
 THE STATE 83 
 
 State those which are, prima facie, essential, and we 
 have then to examine the fundamental nature and 
 constitution of the State with a view to determining 
 which of these essential activities can be regarded 
 as belonging to its function. 
 
 It is a commonplace observation that during the 
 last two generations at least the activities of the 
 State have been undergoing constant and rapid mul- 
 tiplication and expansion. Moreover, it is gener- 
 ally recognized that this expansion has been far 
 more extensive in the economic than in any other 
 sphere. When Locke wrote his Treatises on Civil 
 Government, interpreting in them the ideas and so- 
 cial situation of the English Revolution of 1688-9, 
 it was still easy to regard the function of the State 
 as strictly specific and limited, because its actual 
 activities were in the main specific and limited, and 
 were in process of actual construction. To-day, 
 whatever may be the true function of the State, 
 there is an undeniable temptation to conclude, on the 
 basis of its actual activities, that its functions are 
 practically universal and unlimited. Such a con- 
 clusion, whether it be right or wrong, at least goes 
 with the grain of present-day Society. Yet it may 
 be that Locke was nearer to being right than those 
 social theorists who are ready to conclude, because 
 the State does everything in fact, that its social 
 function is pantopragmatic and universal. 
 
 To-day, almost every developed State is cease- 
 lessly active in economic affairs. It passes Factory 
 Acts, and other legislation designed to ensure a 
 minimum of protection to the workers engaged in 
 production: it regulates wages and hours: it at-
 
 84 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 tempts to provide for and against unemployment: 
 it intervenes, successfully or unsuccessfully, in in- 
 dustrial disputes: it compels employers to provide 
 compensation for accidents, and both employers 
 and workers to contribute to social insurance funds 
 which it administers. On the other hand, it regu- 
 lates to some extent the commercial operations of 
 financiers and employers, restricts or pretends to 
 restrict trusts and profiteering, uses its consular 
 service and special agents to aid foreign trade, en- 
 courages, subsidizes and assists in industrial re- 
 search, enact laws affecting, and enters into many 
 formal and informal relationships with capitalist in- 
 terests and associations. Moreover, more and more 
 it embarks itself upon economic enterprises, con- 
 ducts a Post Office or a railway service, and be- 
 comes the direct employer of vast numbers of its 
 own citizens, incidentally often imposing political 
 and other disqualifications upon them on the ground 
 that they are State employees. 
 
 To all this industrial and commercial activity of 
 the national State must be added the no less com- 
 plex activities of local authorities acting under the 
 laws enacted by the State municipal and other lo- 
 cal by-laws regulating industry and commerce, and 
 the extending operations of "municipal trading." 
 It will, however, be more convenient to consider 
 the character and activities of local authorities sepa- 
 rately at a later stage, although no clear or hard 
 and fast line can be drawn between a State and a 
 local authority in those cases where "federal," "Do- 
 minion" or even "regionalist" forms of government 
 exist.
 
 THE STATE 85 
 
 There is a further economic activity of the State 
 which is more and more becoming manifest in our 
 own day. Taxation is, in its origin, merely a method 
 of collecting from individuals that proportion of 
 their incomes which must be diverted from their per- 
 sonal use to meet the necessary expenses of State 
 administration. But, as the activities of the State 
 expand, taxation shows a marked tendency to be- 
 come also a method of redistributing incomes within 
 the community. This new tendency emerges already 
 in systems of graduated taxation; but it becomes 
 the leading principle in those proposals, nowhere yet 
 carried far into effect, which aim at its definite and 
 deliberate use as a means to at least comparative 
 equality of income. 1 
 
 Apart from taxation for administrative purposes, 
 the present economic activities of the State are 
 largely of recent growth. This is not to say that 
 the State had not previously engaged in economic 
 action on a large scale, as for instance under what is 
 known as the "Mercantile System." But between 
 the "Mercantile System" and the economic activity 
 of the modern State intervenes in many cases a 
 period of comparative inactivity laissez faire fol- 
 lowing upon the changes caused by the Industrial 
 Revolution. In the Middle Ages, when economic 
 activities were largely in the hands of the Guilds, 
 and in the period of the Industrial Revolution, when 
 they were largely in the hands of competitive capi- 
 
 1 The State Bonus Scheme, actively advocated by Mr. Dennis 
 Milner and his colleagues of the State Bonus League, is an 
 advanced example of this tendency. It is a definite proposal 
 for a redistribution by the State, on a basis of equality, of a 
 considerable proportion of the communal income.
 
 86 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 talists, the State's intervention in economic matters 
 was, comparatively, very restricted indeed. 
 
 Extensive as the economic activities of the State 
 are, it will be agreed that they have not yet, in any 
 actual State, reached an essentially central position. 
 This might occur, and would probably occur if the 
 pure Collectivists had their way; but, for the pres- 
 ent, the central position is still occupied by politi- 
 cal and coordinating rather than by economic ac- 
 tivities, although the latter constantly threaten the 
 position of the two former. Our next inquiry must 
 be into the nature of the political activities of the 
 State. 
 
 The word "political" is one round which a high 
 degree of ambiguity has gathered. It has very va- 
 rious associations, with the n6Xis, or City-State, 
 of the Greeks, with the modern Nation-State, with 
 the whole complex of social action, with purely 
 party and parliamentary activities, and so forth. 
 Here I am using the word in a definite and specific 
 sense. I mean by political activities those activi- 
 ties which are concerned with the social regulation 
 of those personal relationships which arise directly 
 out of the fact that men live together in communi- 
 ties, and which are susceptible to direct social or- 
 ganization. 1 
 
 In this, as in many other cases, it is easier and 
 perhaps more illuminating, to illustrate than to de- 
 fine. What, we must ask, are the main types of 
 actual political activity exercised by the State ? 
 
 Marriage is at once a civil and a religious institu- 
 tion. The State regulates the relations between in- 
 1 See ante, p. 67, for political association.
 
 THE STATE 87 
 
 dividuals by enacting laws dealing with marriage 
 and its dissolution, the care of children, the conduct 
 arising out of sexual relationships in all their forms. 
 It makes laws for the prevention and punishment of 
 crime, for the care and treatment of lunatics, the 
 feeble-minded and others who are not in a position 
 to look after themselves. It is vitally concerned 
 with many relationships quite apart from sex crime 
 or abnormality, and constantly lays down rules of 
 convenience and convention for the guidance of men 
 in their mutual relationships. If it covers any con- 
 siderable area or includes any large number of in- 
 habitants, it must recognize or establish local au- 
 thorities similar to itself but with more limited 
 powers, and makes general rules for the guidance of 
 these bodies in their various activities. In fact, it 
 is concerned mainly with personal rights and the 
 means of reconciling them, and with those limita- 
 tions of personal conduct which are essential to the 
 existence of a coordinated system of personal 
 rights. 
 
 Where classes exist in the community, the State 
 often exercises further political activity in sustain- 
 ing, recognizing, and modifying class privileges and 
 class exclusions. It creates, say, a peerage, and 
 from time to time elevates the latest exalted servant 
 of the public, .or newspaper proprietor, or nouveau 
 riche, to membership of the peerage. It enacts spe- 
 cial privileges for one class or another, or passes 
 special legislature discriminating against a class. 
 In the extreme case, its political activity assumes 
 the form of a class dictatorship. This is the bad 
 side of the State's political activity.
 
 88 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 Thirdly, the State of to-day possesses increasingly 
 important activities of coordination. It is largely 
 concerned in adjusting the relations between asso- 
 ciation and association, or institution and institution, 
 or institution and association, or between other as- 
 sociations or institutions and itself. It enacts laws 
 regulating the form and scope of associative ac- 
 tivity, friendly society law, law affecting banks, 
 companies, partnerships, Trade Unions, clubs, as- 
 sociations of any and every sort. In some degree, 
 it regulates all religious associations, and, in some 
 countries, the existence of an Established Church 
 considerably increases the extent of its religious 
 intervention. There is one theory of the State 
 which regards it as primarily a coordinating body, 
 devoted not to any specific functions of its own, 
 but to the coordinating of the various functional 
 associations within Society. 1 
 
 I do not claim that this summary of the activities 
 of States is exhaustive or inclusive, nor do I desire 
 to make it so. It can, with one further develop- 
 ment, be made sufficient for our purpose. I have so 
 far dealt almost entirely with the internal activities 
 of "the State," and ignored its external relations, 
 whether with other States, or with anything wholly 
 or partly outside its geographical boundaries. I 
 have done this because "international" or- external 
 activity cannot be regarded as a particular province 
 of State activity, in the same sense as economic, 
 political and coordinating activities. International 
 action arises in relation to each of these provinces of 
 
 1 This view has been often expressed in the columns of the 
 New Age, over the signature "National Guildsmen."
 
 THE STATE 89 
 
 State activity, and has, besides, special problems of 
 its own. Thus the State takes external economic 
 action in the development of foreign trade, external 
 political action in connection, say, with international 
 provisions regarding crime, marriage, naturaliza- 
 tion, and other questions of personal status and con- 
 venience which involve a measure of activity tran- 
 scending State boundaries. In its activity of 
 coordination, it is confronted with the problem of 
 international association, from the Roman Catholic 
 Church to the Socialist International. 
 
 These forms of external State action may either 
 lead to quarrels and disagreements between States, 
 or they may bind States together and lead towards 
 a sort of super-State, or at least Society or League 
 of States bound together for the performance of 
 specific functions or the exercise of specific activi- 
 ties. Hitherto, the external actions of States have 
 been far more fertile in disagreement than in organ- 
 ized cooperation ; but it does not follow that this will 
 always be the case. Indeed, a proper understand- 
 ing and adjustment of the internal functions of the 
 State will be likely to exercise a profound and benef- 
 icent action upon its relations with other States, 
 and to set it upon the road of organized interna- 
 tional cooperation which other forms of associa- 
 tion are more forward in following than the State 
 has been in the past. 
 
 A full discussion of the external aspects of State 
 action, however, would be foreign to our present 
 purpose, which is in the main that of disentangling 
 the true functions of the State from the network of 
 its present activities. By what test can we so test
 
 90 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 these activities as to make the real nature and func- 
 tion of the State stand out from among them clear 
 and well-defined? The first step in applying our 
 test must be to investigate the State from a dif- 
 ferent point of view, to regard it in the light, not of 
 its activities, but of its structure and composition. 
 We may then hope, by bringing its activities into 
 relation to its structure, to discover its function in 
 the complex of organized Society. 
 
 How, then, is the State composed? And what 
 is its structural principle? These are not easy ques- 
 tions to answer, because any attempt to answer them 
 is likely to open at once large controversial ques- 
 tions. Moreover, the structure of different States, 
 or of the same State at different times, appears 
 to be essentially different. What is there in com- 
 mon between the structure of a pure despotism, in 
 which a monarch is supposed to possess absolute 
 and unlimited power, and a State in which all 
 power rests, at any rate in theory, upon the consent 
 and active cooperation of the whole body of the 
 people ? 
 
 It must be noted that the activities of a "des- 
 potic" and of a "democratic" State may be iden- 
 tical, while their structural principles seem to be vi- 
 tally different. But are their structural principles 
 as fundamentally different as they seem? Every 
 despotism which seeks at all to justify its existence 
 seeks to do so on one or another of three princi- 
 ples. Either it claims to be based upon "divine 
 right and appointment" of the ruler, or it claims 
 to be acting in the interests of the ruled, and there- 
 fore in conformity with their real will, or it claims
 
 THE STATE 91 
 
 to be based upon the actual consent of the ruled, 
 tacit or expressed. With despotisms which do not 
 seek to justify their existence we are not concerned, 
 since in them it is manifest that social obligation, 
 on which the possibility of a coherent Society de- 
 pends, is not present. 
 
 We are left, then, with three possible justifica- 
 tions of despotism, and it must be admitted that 
 all three finally reduce themselves to a common 
 form the consent, in one form or another, of the 
 ruled. This is clear in the third form of the theory 
 of despotism, which is based on actual consent. In 
 the second form, the consent is not actual, but un- 
 less it is real and justification fails. It depends 
 upon the metaphysical conception of the "real will," 
 different from the actual will and willing always 
 the good. It claims, in fact, to be the consent 
 of the "better selves" of the ruled. The third 
 theory, that of divine right, seems at first sight 
 to have nothing to do with human consent; but 
 if God has willed that a man shall be king, it is 
 clear that the "better selves" of all men have willed 
 this too, and that, if divine right is established, 
 universal consent ought to follow as a matter of 
 course. 
 
 Any attempt to justify a despotic State therefore 
 brings us back to the same principle as that on 
 which "democratic" States are usually justified 
 the consent of the ruled. It is true that in a 
 despotism this consent cannot, unless the despotic 
 is elected, pass beyond acquiescence, whereas in 
 democracy consent may become, and in real democ- 
 racy must become, active cooperation. Still, a com-
 
 92 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 mon ground of principle has been established, and 
 the State, whatever its form of power, is seen to 
 rest on the consent of those who are its citizens, 
 subjects, members or human constituents. 
 
 If once the principle of consent is established as 
 the basis of the State, it is impossible to set limits 
 to the operation of the principle. If the members 
 consent to despotism, well and good; but as soon 
 as they desire to assume a more active cooperation 
 in the affairs of State, they have clearly a right to 
 do so. The fullest democracy in action is only the 
 logical development of the principle of consent, ex- 
 panded by the application of actual human wills 
 that is, of the will to self-government. If this is so, 
 we can safely take the "democratic State'" as the 
 developed form of "the State," and expect, in laying 
 bare its structure, to lay bare the structure of States 
 in general. 
 
 The only obstacle in the way of our immediately 
 adopting this course is the metaphysical doctrine 
 of the real "will" a doctrine which we shall again 
 and again encounter as an influence obscuring our 
 attempt to study the character of social organization. 
 If the doctrine of a real will different from any- 
 body's actual will is accepted, all arguments for 
 democracy, that is government by the actual wills 
 of the ruled, go by the board. But so equally do 
 all arguments for everything else; for we are left 
 without means of ascertaining the nature or content 
 of this real will. The content of actual wills we 
 can know up to a point: the content of the real 
 will we cannot know at all. We can only know 
 what we believe to be good, and thereupon, by a
 
 THE STATE 93 
 
 quite gratuitous assumption, assume our conception 
 of the good to be the content of everybody's real 
 will. Or, if we are not quite sure ourselves that 
 we know all the good, we can stand back astonished 
 at the magnitude of the State and its works, and 
 say that anything so big must be good. Many 
 idealist social theorists have virtually done this, 
 and made of the doctrine of the real will, in its ap- 
 plication to social theory, no more than a colos- 
 sally fraudulent justification of "things as they 
 are." x 
 
 I shall content myself with leaping rather lightly 
 over this metaphysical obstacle, referring my read- 
 ers to the book of Professor Hobhouse, and reserv- 
 ing the matter for fuller treatment at a later stage. 
 I shall assume, then, that actual wills are real wills, 
 or at least near enough to reality to be going on 
 with, and I shall therefore assume that the basis 
 of the State's structure is to be found in the actual 
 consent of its members. 
 
 But here we encounter our first real difficulty. 
 Who are the members of the State, and, indeed, can 
 the State be said to have any members? I am 
 using the word "members" because it is the most 
 neutral word I can find. We usually speak of 
 "citizens" or "subjects"; but one of these words 
 has about it the implication of despotism and the 
 other that of the actual exercise of political rights. 
 I therefore avoid them for the present, because I 
 
 1 For an excellent onslaught upon some such theories, see 
 The Metaphysical Theory of the State, by L. T. Hobhouse. 
 For an awful example of them, see the writings of Dr. Ber- 
 nard Bosanquet.
 
 94 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 want to avoid equally for the present both these 
 implications. 
 
 The State, as an association, has members, and 
 its members are all the persons ordinarily resident 
 within the area within which the State ordinarily 
 exercises authority. Such persons are members of 
 the State, whether or not they have votes or other 
 political privileges, by virtue merely of their ordi- 
 nary residence within the State area. For the State 
 is, for the dwellers within its area, a compulsory 
 association, and its compulsory character is re- 
 vealed in two ways in its power to compel all per- 
 sons in its area, and in the right of all such per- 
 sons to membership of it. When we say that the 
 State rests upon consent, we mean that it rests upon 
 the consent of an effective proportion of all the 
 dwellers within its area. 
 
 Membership of the State is, however, an almost 
 barren theory without recognized political rights 
 for without such rights a member can only make 
 his voice heard in time of revolution, when the 
 ordinary procedure of the State is in abeyance. 
 What right, we must ask, does membership of the 
 State give to the recognition of actual political 
 rights? The answer is partly implied in what we 
 have said already of consent as the basis of the 
 State. The members of the State have the right to 
 translate a passive consent into an active coopera- 
 tion by the assumption of political rights. This 
 they habitually do by gradually extending the fran- 
 chise and other political rights to new sections of 
 the population, as these sections become articulate 
 in advancing their claim. The logical completion
 
 THE STATE 95 
 
 of this development is universal suffrage as the ex- 
 pression of a political articulateness generally dif- 
 fused through all sections of the people. 
 
 I shall take, then, as the basis of examination of 
 the structure of the State, a State possessing the 
 institution of universal suffrage. What is the struc- 
 tural principle of such a State? Regarded as a 
 whole, it is a compulsory association including all 
 the dwellers within a particular area. Its basis is 
 therefore territorial and inclusive, whereas the basis 
 of a Trade Union is vocational and selective. The 
 essence of the State is to include all sorts of people, 
 without reference to the sort of people they are, 
 the sort of beliefs they hold, or the sort of work 
 they do. 
 
 I do not mean, of course, that there is not usually 
 a very important element of identity of character, 
 way of life, and even occupation, among the mem- 
 bers of a particular State. This element of identity 
 is strongest in the City-State, and very strong in 
 the State whose area is the area of a Nation. But 
 it is not the essential principle of the State form 
 of grouping. There are States which are not coterm- 
 inous with Nations, and State and Nation are 
 essentially different things. A Nation may be a 
 community, but it cannot be, though it may pos- 
 sess, a State. A Nation is not an association; a 
 State is. 
 
 The State, then, is an inclusive territorial asso- 
 ciation, ignoring differences between men and com- 
 pulsorily taking in every one who ordinarily dwells 
 within its area. This being its principle, how can we
 
 96 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 discover its function? The answer will be found 
 by asking and answering a further question. 
 
 Why does the State ignore the differences between 
 men and include all sorts and conditions, and what 
 is the sphere of action, or social function, marked 
 out for it by the adoption of this structure? It 
 ignores the differences between men because it is 
 concerned not with their differences, but with their 
 identity, and its function and interest are concerned 
 with men's identity and not with their differences. 
 Objectively stated, this principle takes the following 
 form. The concern of the State, as an association 
 including all sorts and conditions of men, is with 
 those things which concern all sorts and conditions 
 of men, and concern them, broadly speaking, in the 
 same way, that is, in relation to their identity and 
 not to their points of difference. 
 
 The State exists primarily to deal with those 
 things which affect all its members more or less 
 equally and in the same way. Let us try to see 
 clearly what are the effects of this principle. It 
 excludes from the primary functions of the State 
 from its social function par excellence those 
 spheres of social action which affect different mem- 
 bers of it in different degrees and in various ways. 
 This does not mean that the State must not concern 
 itself with any such spheres of action, but only that 
 they do not form part of its primary function, and 
 may fall within the functions of other forms of as- 
 sociation. We are not concerned as yet so much 
 with limiting the province of the State as with dis- 
 covering what is its undisputed and peculiar sphere 
 of activity.
 
 THE STATE 97 
 
 Let us look back now to the point from which we 
 set out to our brief account of the existing activi- 
 ties of the State. Which of these activities clearly 
 correspond to the definition we have just given, and 
 are, by their correspondence, clearly marked out 
 as essential activities of the State. We divided the 
 actual activities of the State into three main di- 
 visions economic, political and coordinative. Let 
 us first look at each of these three divisions in gen- 
 eral and as a whole, proceeding to a further analysis 
 of them as we find it to be required. 
 
 Economic activities for the most part clearly af- 
 fect the various members of the community 1 in dif- 
 ferent degrees and in various ways. For it is here 
 that one of the most easily recognizable and organiz- 
 able differences between man and man comes into 
 play. Coal mining affects the coal miner in quite a 
 different way from that in which it affects the rest 
 of the people, and so through the whole list of 
 trades and vocations. Of course, coal mining does 
 affect not only the miner, but also everybody else; 
 but the point is that it affects the miner in a different 
 manner and degree. 
 
 Here, however, a difficulty at once arises. Each 
 trade or vocation affects those who follow it in a 
 different way and degree from the way and degree 
 in which it affects others ; but many vital industries 
 and services do also, from another point of view, 
 affect almost everybody in very much the same way. 
 
 1 1 use the terms "members of the community" and "mem- 
 bers of the State" indifferently, assuming that the geographi- 
 cal area of the community coincides with that of the State. 
 The argument is not affected.
 
 98 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 We must all eat and drink, be clothed, housed and 
 warmed, be tended in sickness and educated in 
 childhood and youth, and our common needs in 
 these and other respects give rise to a common rela- 
 tion, that of consumers or users of the products and 
 service rendered by those who follow the various 
 trades and vocations concerned. 
 
 It is upon the fact that the Collectivist theory of 
 the State is based. The Collectivists, or State So- 
 cialists, regard the State as an association of con- 
 sumers, and claim for it supremacy in the economic 
 sphere on the ground that consumption, at least in 
 relation to the vital industries and services, is a 
 matter that concerns everybody equally and in the 
 same way. This, however, is to ignore a difference 
 as vital as the identity on which stress is laid. The 
 most that can be claimed for the State in the eco- 
 nomic sphere on account of the identical interest of 
 all the members of the community in consumption is 
 State control of consumption, and not State control 
 of production, in which the interests of different 
 members of the community are vitally different. 
 
 The economic sphere thus falls at once into two 
 separable parts production and consumption, in 
 one of which all interests tend to be identical, while 
 in the other, production, they tend to be different. 
 Consumption is thus marked off as falling, prima 
 facie, within the sphere of the State, while produc- 
 tion is no less clearly marked off as falling out- 
 side it. 
 
 We shall have to pursue this question further at 
 a later stage, when we examine directly the eco- 
 nomic structure of Society. There is, however, one
 
 THE STATE 99 
 
 question, arising immediately out of this distinction, 
 with which we must deal at the present stage. We 
 saw in our summary of State activities that taxation 
 tends to become, and to be regarded as, not merely 
 a means of raising revenue for public purposes, but 
 a means of redistributing the national income. May 
 not this tendency provide the key to the State's 
 function in relation to consumption? If there is 
 one thing in the economic sphere which affects every- 
 body equally and in the same way it is the question 
 of income, on which the nominal amount of con- 
 sumption depends. Closely bound up with this is 
 the question of price, which, in its relation to in- 
 come, determines the real amount of consumption. 
 Income and prices, then, seem to fall clearly within 
 the province of the State, and the determination of 
 them forms an integral part of the State's functions. 
 The State, then, regulates consumption primarily 
 through income and prices. By these means it acts 
 upon the general level and distribution of consump- 
 tion, and not directly upon the consumption of any 
 particular commodity. It is, however, clear that, 
 in the case of many staple commodities and vital 
 services, not only the general level of consuming 
 power, but also the consumption and supply of a 
 particular commodity or service, affects everybody 
 more or less equally and in the same way. Of 
 course, there are many other commodities whose 
 consumption affects only a part of the people, or af- 
 fects different sections in very unequal measure. In 
 such cases the State has no primary function. Hav- 
 ing regulated the general distribution of consum- 
 ing power, it can leave to ad hoc bodies the expres-
 
 100 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 sion of the consumers' point of view in relation to 
 such commodities or services. 
 
 But in the case of the vital commodities and 
 services which, broadly speaking, affect everybody 
 equally and in the same way, there is a prima facie 
 argument for State regulation, and it is clear that 
 regulation must be done either by the State or by 
 some body or bodies reproducing its structure and 
 similarly based upon general suffrage and an in- 
 clusive and non-selective electorate. The question 
 whether the State or some other body or bodies so 
 constituted should assume these functions depends 
 upon the degree in which the combined performance 
 of political functions and of these specialized eco- 
 nomic functions can be undertaken with satisfac- 
 tory results by the same group of elected persons, 
 or whether it is necessary that the same body of 
 electors should choose different persons and repre- 
 sentative bodies for the performance of functions so 
 essentially different and calling for such different 
 capacities and acquirements. 1 
 
 The political activities of the State give rise to 
 no such complex problems as its economic activities. 
 Here the only question that arises in most cases is 
 whether a particular sphere of personal relationship 
 ought to be regulated or left unregulated. If it is 
 to be regulated at all, it falls clearly according to 
 our principle within the proper sphere of the State. 
 
 * This point is more fully developed in Chapter VI., where 
 it is urged that if a person is chosen to "represent" a body 
 of electors, he can only be a real representative if his function 
 is clearly and specifically limited and defined. See also Intro- 
 duction to Self -Government in Industry (edition of 1919).
 
 THE STATE 101 
 
 For in personal relationship, whether regulation is 
 based on moral principles or on principles of con- 
 venience, the regulation clearly affects, or should 
 affect, and would but for class and economic dis- 
 tinctions affect, every one equally and in the same 
 way. "Political" activities, then, in the sense which 
 we have given to the phrase, belong clearly to the 
 function of the State. 
 
 What, then, of activities of coordination, such as 
 we described earlier in this chapter? Here a far 
 greater difficulty arises. To entrust the State with 
 the function of coordination would be to entrust 
 it, in many cases, with the task of arbitrating be- 
 tween itself and some other functional association, 
 say, a Church or a Trade Union. But just as no 
 man ought to be the judge of his own case, so 
 ought no association. Therefore, coordination can- 
 not belong to the function of the State ; but neither 
 can it belong to that of any other functional asso- 
 ciation. 
 
 We should reach the same conclusion if we 
 ignored the argument against making the State 
 judge in its own cause, and attended only to the 
 nature of coordinating activities. For such activi- 
 ties clearly bring in many questions which do not 
 affect everybody equally and in the same way, but 
 affect various groups in essential different ways. 
 Therefore, once more, we must conclude that the 
 function of coordination does not belong to the 
 State. 
 
 This is a conclusion of far-reaching and funda- 
 mental importance; for if the State is not the co- 
 ordinating authority within the community, neither
 
 102 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 is it, in the sense usually attached to the term, "sov- 
 ereign." But the claim to "Sovereignty" is that 
 on which the most exalted pretensions of the State 
 are based. Almost all modern theories of the State 
 attribute to it not merely a superiority to all other 
 forms of association, but an absolute difference in 
 kind, by virtue of which it is supposed to possess, 
 in theory at least, an unlimited authority over every 
 other association and over every individual in the 
 community. 
 
 If our account of the nature of the State is cor- 
 rect, its functions must be newly defined and lim- 
 ited in terms of its specific functions, and with this 
 definition and limitation its claim to Sovereignty 
 falls utterly to the ground. We cannot, however, 
 so lightly destroy an almost universally held theoreti- 
 cal position, and, in order to make perfectly plain 
 our reasons for denying it, we must at once embark 
 on a discussion of the closely related questions of 
 democracy and representation. We can then return 
 to our study of the State with a better hope of 
 making the argument perfectly clear.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 
 
 THERE is in our own day an almost general 
 prejudice in favor of democracy. Almost 
 everybody is a "democrat," and the name of 
 democracy is invoked in support of the most diverse 
 social systems and theories. This general accept- 
 ance of the name of democracy, even by persons 
 who are obviously not in any real sense "demo- 
 crats," is perhaps largely to be explained by the fact 
 that the idea of democracy has become almost in- 
 extricably tangled up with the idea of representative 
 government, or rather with a particular theory of 
 representative government based on a totally false 
 theory of representation. 
 
 This false theory is that one man can "represent" 
 another or a number of others, and that his will can 
 be treated as the democratic expression of their 
 wills. Stated in this form, the theory admits of 
 only one answer. No man can represent another 
 man, and no man's will can be treated as a sub- 
 stitute for, or representative of, the wills of others. 
 This may look, at first sight, like a complete 
 denial of every form of representative government, 
 and an affirmation of the futility of all elections. 
 
 103
 
 104 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 It is, however, nothing of the sort; it is not an 
 attack upon, or an attempt to destroy the theoretic 
 basis of, representative government, but an attempt 
 to restate the theory of representation in a truer 
 form. In order that it may be fully understood, 
 we must bring it into relation to the doctrine of 
 function expounded in previous chapters. We have 
 seen that, just as every action of an individual 
 aims at some specific object, so men form and enter 
 associations in pursuit of specific objects which can 
 be best pursued in common by or through an or- 
 ganized group. Every association, then, has a spe- 
 cific object or objects, and it is in pursuit of some 
 or all of these objects that men consent to be mem- 
 bers of the association. 
 
 Every association which sets before itself any 
 object that is of more than the most rudimentary 
 simplicity finds itself compelled to assign tasks and 
 duties, and with these powers and a share of au- 
 thority, to some of its members in order that the 
 common object may be effectively pursued. It elects, 
 perhaps, a Secretary, a President, a Treasurer and 
 an Executive Committee, and empowers these per- 
 sons to act on behalf of the association in certain 
 definite ways and within certain limits. In the 
 smaller and more localized associations, much of the 
 control of the proceedings of the association may 
 remain in the hands of the general body of the mem- 
 bers ; but as soon as it becomes too large or too dis- 
 persed for a general meeting to transact business, 
 or if the members are too preoccupied with other 
 affairs to make it their constant concern, the detailed 
 regulation of its proceedings passes largely into the
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 105 
 
 hands of a comparatively small number of its mem- 
 bers, officers, committee men, delegates or repre- 
 sentatives. In the largest and most complex forms 
 of association, such as the State, the ordinary mem- 
 ber is reduced to a mere voter, and all the direction 
 of actual affairs is done by representatives or mis- 
 representatives. 
 
 At the best, representative government gives rise 
 to many inconveniences, to what Walt Whitman 
 described as "the never-ending audacity of elected 
 persons," and Rousseau as "the tendency of all 
 government to deteriorate." With these inconveni- 
 ences we shall have to deal at a later stage; but 
 here we are concerned only to make clear the nature 
 of the representative relation as it exists in such 
 associations as we have spoken of above. 
 
 In the majority of associations, the nature of the 
 relation is clear enough. The elected person of- 
 ficial, committee man, or delegate makes no pre- 
 tension of substituting his personality for those of 
 his constituents, or of representing them except in 
 relation to a quite narrow and clearly defined pur- 
 pose or group of purposes which the association ex- 
 ists to fulfill. There is, then, in these cases, no ques- 
 tion of one man taking the place of many ; for what 
 the representative professes to represent is not the 
 whole will and personalities of his constituents, but 
 merely so much of them as they have put into the 
 association, and as is concerned with the purposes 
 which the association exists to fulfill. 
 
 This is the character of all true representation. 
 It is impossible to represent human beings as selves 
 or centers of consciousness; it is quite possible to
 
 106 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 represent, though with an inevitable element of dis- 
 tortion which must always be recognized, so much 
 of human beings as they themselves put into asso- 
 ciated effort for a specific purpose. 
 
 True representation, therefore, like true associa- 
 tion, is always specific and functional, and never 
 general and inclusive. What is represented is never 
 man, the individual, but always certain purposes 
 common to groups of individuals. That theory of 
 representative government which is based upon the 
 idea that individuals can be represented as wholes 
 is a false theory, and destruction of personal rights 
 and social well-being. 
 
 The fact that a man cannot be represented as a 
 man seems so obvious that it is difficult to under- 
 stand how many theories of government and democ- 
 racy have come to be built upon it. Each man is 
 a center of consciousness and reason, a will pos- 
 sessed of the power of self-determination, an ulti- 
 mate reality. How can one such will be made to 
 stand in place of many? How can one man, being 
 himself, be at the same time a number of other 
 people? It would be a miracle if he could; but it is 
 a risky experiment to base our social system upon 
 a hypothetical miracle. 
 
 Functional representation is open to no such ob- 
 jection. It does not lay claim to any miraculous 
 quality : it does not profess to be able to substitute 
 the will of one man for the wills of many. Its 
 adherents recognize the element of distortion which 
 exists in all representation; but to them this dis- 
 tortion is not a problem, but an inevitable fact. It 
 does not annihilate or detract from the will of any
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 107 
 
 individual ; it merely provides a basis whereby, when 
 the individual has made up his mind that a certain 
 object is desirable, he can cooperate with his fellows 
 in taking the course of action necessary for its at- 
 tainment. 
 
 Of course, I do not intend to convey the idea that 
 there are just so many functions in Society, and that 
 to each corresponds exactly its own functional as- 
 sociation and form of representation. The need of 
 Society for functional association and representa- 
 tion expands and develops as Society becomes 
 larger and more complex. A special form of asso- 
 ciation and representation, at one time unnecessary, 
 may become necessary as the work of Society in- 
 creases in a particular direction. Moreover, in a 
 very small Society, such as the ancient City-State, 
 where the direct participation of the mass of the 
 people in government was possible, functional asso- 
 ciation was only needed in a very limited degree, 
 and it was often possible for the people to choose 
 directly their functional representatives without any 
 intervening stage of functional association. The 
 principle of representation, however, is the same; 
 the representative represents not persons, but defi- 
 nite and particular purposes common to a number 
 of persons. 
 
 Having made plain our conception of the true na- 
 ture of representation, we can now look more closely 
 at its consequences. In proportion as the pur- 
 poses for which the representative is chosen lose 
 clarity and definiteness, representation passes into 
 misrepresentation, and the representative character 
 of the acts resulting from association disappears.
 
 108 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 Thus, misrepresentation is seen at its worst to-day 
 in that professedly omnicompetent "representative" 
 body Parliament and in the Cabinet which is sup- 
 posed to depend upon it. Parliament professes to 
 represent all the citizens in all things, and therefore 
 as a rule represents none of them in anything. It 
 is chosen to deal with anything that may turn up, 
 quite irrespective of the fact that the different things 
 that do turn up require different types of persons 
 to deal with them. It is therefore peculiarly subject 
 to corrupt, and especially to plutocratic, influences, 
 and does everything badly, because it is not chosen 
 to do any definite thing well. This is not the fault 
 of the actual Members of Parliament; they muddle 
 because they are set the impossible task of being 
 good at everything, and representing everybody in 
 relation to every purpose. 
 
 There can be only one escape from the futility of 
 our present methods of parliamentary government; 
 and that is to find an association and method of 
 representation for each function, and a function 
 for each association and body of representatives. 
 In other words, real democracy is to be found, not in 
 a single omnicompetent representative assembly, 
 but in a system of coordinated functional represen- 
 tative bodies. 
 
 There is another, and a simpler, line of argument 
 which leads straight to the same conclusion as we 
 have already reached. It is obvious that different 
 people are interested in, and good at doing, different 
 things. It is therefore equally obvious that, if I am 
 a sensible person, I shall desire to choose different 
 people to represent my wishes in relation to different
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 109 
 
 things. To ask me to choose one man to represent 
 me in relation to everything is to insult my intelli- 
 gence, and to offer me every inducement to choose 
 some one so colorless that he is unlikely to do any- 
 thing at all because he will at least probably do 
 no great harm, and no great notice will be taken of 
 him. This is how parliamentary elections usually 
 work out at the present time. 
 
 But, if I am asked to choose a different person to 
 represent my wishes in relation to each of the main 
 groups of social purposes of which I am conscious, 
 I shall do my best to choose in each case the man 
 who is most fitted to represent my views and to carry 
 them into effect. In short, the one method will in- 
 evitably result in government by the incompetent; 
 the other will at least give every chance for compe- 
 tent representatives to be chosen. 
 
 Democracy, then, must be conceived in the first 
 place as a coordinated system of functional repre- 
 sentation. But, as soon as we introduce the word 
 "democracy," we raise a further question, that of 
 the relation between me and my functional repre- 
 sentative after I have chosen him. In fact, we find 
 ourselves in the thick of the old controversy of 
 "representative versus delegate." 
 
 Does our revised theory of representation throw 
 any light upon this controversy? Or, in other 
 words, is the question whether the elected person, 
 once he has been elected, should follow his own will 
 or should be instructed as far as possible on every 
 issue by those who have chosen him, to be an- 
 swered in a different way when the theory of repre- 
 sentation is different? I think the theory of repre-
 
 110 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 sentation which we adopt must make a considerable 
 difference to our view of the relation of the elected 
 person to his constituents. 
 
 In the first place, attempts to make the elected 
 person a mere delegate must always break down, 
 whatever the form of representation. There are 
 many issues on which it is not merely undesirable, 
 but impossible, to tie down a delegate by instruc- 
 tions, because unforeseen situations and complica- 
 tions constantly arise. If for no other reason, pure 
 delegation must break down because the delegate is 
 so often waiting for further instructions that 
 nothing gets done, and the best opportunities for 
 action are continually being missed. On the other 
 hand, pure "representation" without instructions 
 or counsel from the electors approaches very nearly 
 to false representation, substituting, even within a 
 restricted sphere, the will of one for the wills of 
 many. 
 
 Our functional democracy, based on functional 
 associations and representations, provides a way out 
 of this difficulty. It enables us to combine repre- 
 sentation with constant counsel from the con- 
 stituents, and thus makes it possible to abandon 
 the theory of delegation without imperiling 
 democratic control. The chief difficulty of demo- 
 cratic control over the representative in the political 
 sphere to-day is that, as soon as the voters have 
 exercised their votes, their existence as a group 
 lapses until the time when a new election is re- 
 quired. No body or group remains in being to 
 direct upon the elected person a constant stream of 
 counsel and criticism. Consequently, the elected
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 111 
 
 person must receive full instructions at the time 
 of election, which produces an intolerable situation 
 as soon as there is any change in the circumstances, 
 or else he must become a pure representa- 
 tive, acting on his own responsibility and conse- 
 quently expressing only his own will and not those 
 of his constituents. This dilemma exists wherever 
 the body of electors does not remain in being and 
 activity as a body throughout the tenure of office of 
 the elected person. 
 
 Functional democracy, in which representatives 
 emanate from functional associations which have a 
 permanent being, meets this difficulty. It is no 
 longer necessary for the group to instruct its repre- 
 sentative, because it can continue throughout his 
 time of office to criticise and advise him, and be- 
 cause, I would add, it can at any time recall him if it 
 is not satisfied with the way in which he is doing 
 his job. Recall is, in fact, the final safeguard, while 
 criticism and advice are the normal means of keep- 
 ing the representation democratic. 
 
 In our own day, experience of bad leaders, both in 
 the State and in other forms of association, has bred 
 an almost general distrust of leadership, and a 
 strong desire, especially on the so-called "left wing," 
 to do away with leaders, and substitute direct control 
 by the "rank and file" through delegates duly in- 
 structed how to act and vote. But there is no 
 reason to take the badness of present-day leaders 
 as a sign that the whole idea of leadership should be 
 given up. Certainly, before we adopt any such 
 drastic expedient, all the circumstances ought to 
 be fully explored. But, at the very beginning of
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 this explanation, the biggest single cause of the 
 collapse of leadership is plainly to be seen. The 
 absence of any true principle of representation in 
 the sphere of the State, the failure that is to "func- 
 tionalize" the State, and to make the political rep- 
 resentative a functional representative, is the 
 main cause of the perversion of political leadership. 
 But the perversion of political leadership is, in its 
 turn, the main cause of the perversion of leadership 
 elsewhere. The Trade Union leader, and many 
 other "functional" leaders, have their eyes fixed 
 upon Parliament, and the thought of Parliament 
 distracts them from their proper work. Moreover, 
 this parliamentary arriere-pensee is an important 
 factor in causing the wrong leaders to be selected, 
 and the wrong candidates to offer themselves for 
 selection. 
 
 We must preserve leadership without sacrificing 
 democratic control. Leadership is as vital to a 
 democracy as to an aristocracy or a monarchy. 
 And it is as true in a democracy as anywhere else 
 that the good leader must be given a great deal of 
 rope. 
 
 In a functional democracy, where the elected 
 person is a representative and not a delegate, and 
 where he acts not as a rule upon instructions, but 
 upon criticism and advice, I believe that the good 
 leader will find ample scope, as soon as the distrust 
 which is born of false democracy has had time to 
 wear off. It is true that he will be liable to sum- 
 mary recall ; but who believes that, after the initial 
 mistakes, this power would be too freely exercised ? 
 The risks are all the other way : it is of a too long
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 113 
 
 tenure of office by second-rate men that we should be 
 afraid. Functional democracy will give the good 
 leader his first real chance of leading by his merits, 
 with an instructed and active body of constituents 
 behind him. For it must be remembered that not 
 only will the representative be chosen to do a job 
 about which he knows something, but he will be 
 chosen by persons who know something of it too. 
 Truly a revolutionary proposal for a democrat to 
 make! 
 
 But some one will object, if I have this respect for 
 leaders why do I insist on the right of recall? I do 
 so, because I have even more respect for human 
 wills and personalities, and because I feel that 
 democracy implies far more than the passive consent 
 of the mass of the people in government. Democ- 
 racy implies active, and not merely passive, 
 citizenship, and implies for everybody at least the 
 opportunity to be an active citizen, not only of the 
 State, but of every association with which his 
 personality or circumstances cause him to be 
 concerned. 
 
 Those who profess to find the bond of Society in 
 the passive consent of the mass of the people fall 
 between two stools. If the mass of the people are 
 necessary to the justification of the social order, they 
 are necessary in the active and not in the passive 
 mood. In other words, if we base our social theory 
 upon the attitude of the mass of the people, we are 
 logically driven to insist that this attitude ought to 
 be as explicit and positive as possible. 
 
 A well-organized Society is one in which not 
 merely is the administration good, but the wills of
 
 114 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the members of the community are active, and find 
 expression through the various associations and 
 institutions of which Society is made up. It should 
 be the aim of those who strive to direct the course 
 of social organization to promote the fullest partici- 
 pation of everybody in the work of government. 
 This alone is true democracy, and this can only be 
 secured by the fullest development of functional 
 organization. The current theory of representative 
 government is a denial of this principle ; for, having 
 chosen his representative, the ordinary man has, 
 according to that theory, nothing left to do except 
 to let other people govern him. Functional organiza- 
 tion and representation, on the other hand, imply 
 the constant participation of the ordinary man in 
 the conduct of those parts of the structure of Society 
 with which he is directly concerned, and which he 
 has therefore the best chance of understanding. A 
 man may be pardoned for not quite knowing for 
 whom to vote in a parliamentary election, or how to 
 appraise the career of his Member of Parliament, 
 because the Member of Parliament of to-day is 
 elected not for any clearly defined purpose, but in 
 the void, to deal with anything that may chance to 
 turn up. A functional association, on the other 
 hand, is concerned with doing a definite job, and its 
 officers are also concerned with getting that definite 
 job done. The member is connected with the 
 association because its business is his business, and 
 he is therefore able far more intelligently to initiate 
 and criticise action in relation to it than in relation 
 to an omnium gatherum miscalled "politics." 
 Functional organization gives every one the chance
 
 DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION 115 
 
 of being, in the measure of his competence and in- 
 terest, an active citizen. 
 
 This does not mean that, in a functional democ- 
 racy, each person will count for one and no person 
 for more than one. That is the cant of false democ- 
 racy. The essence of functional democracy is that 
 a man should count as many times over as there are 
 functions in which he is interested. To count once 
 is to count about nothing in particular: what men 
 want is to count on the particular issues in which 
 they are interested. Instead of "One man, one 
 vote," we must say, "One man as many votes as 
 interests, but only one vote in relation to each in- 
 terest." 
 
 This restatement of a democratic principle still 
 leaves intact the equal voting power of unequal 
 persons voting on a particular issue. That, too, is 
 democracy, not because equalization of votes can 
 make unequal persons equal, but because the right 
 way for the better man to "pull his weight" is not 
 by casting more votes himself, but by influencing 
 others to vote aright. Democracy involves leader- 
 ship by influence. 
 
 Before we end this chapter, we must face a very 
 foolish, but very often urged, objection to the whole 
 idea of functional representation. Functional rep- 
 resentation, we are told, is impossible because, 
 in order to make it work, everybody will have 
 to vote so many times over. I fail to see 
 where the objection arises. If a man is not in- 
 terested enough to vote, and cannot be roused to 
 interest enough to make him vote, on, say, a 
 dozen distinct subjects, he waives his right to vote,
 
 116 SOCIAL THEORY , 
 
 and the result is no less democratic than if he voted 
 blindly and without interest. It is true that the 
 result is not so democratic as it would be if every- 
 body voted with interest and knowledge, but it is far 
 more democratic than it would be if everybody voted 
 without interest or knowledge,. as they tend to do in 
 parliamentary elections. Many and keen voters are 
 best of all; but few and keen voters are next best. 
 A vast and uninstructed electorate voting on a 
 general and undefined issue is the worst of all. Yet 
 that is what we call democracy to-day.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION 
 
 WE have seen that, as soon as any associa- 
 tion passes beyond the doing of the most 
 simple and elementary acts, it becomes neces- 
 sary for it to have representatives persons en- 
 dowed with the right, within certain limits, to 
 speak and act in the name of the association, to 
 deliberate on its behalf, and to take the steps 
 necessary for carrying out its decisions. The char- 
 acter and complexity of the representative methods 
 adopted vary both with the size and geographical 
 dispersion of the association, and with the com- 
 plexity of the functions which it exists to perform. 
 Thus, as long as it is possible for all the members 
 to meet together and discuss each issue of policy 
 as it arises, representatives, where they are required, 
 will be unlikely to acquire any very great power, 
 and will be mainly engaged in doing the routine 
 work necessary to carry out the decisions of the 
 general meeting. This is the position to-day in 
 those parishes which are governed by a Parish Meet- 
 ing, or in a small local Trade Union or other asso- 
 ciation. 
 
 At this stage, it will be seen, there may be rudi- 
 117
 
 118 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 mentary officials, permanent or occasional, corre- 
 sponding to the fully developed executive officers 
 of more advanced forms of association, there may 
 be a committee, permanent or occasional, and also 
 of an executive character. But there is as yet no 
 representative legislative assembly, no body of 
 men selected from the association, and legislating 
 or laying down the main lines of policy in the name 
 of all the members. This is a further development, 
 which arises when it becomes impossible or incon- 
 venient for all the members to meet and deliberate 
 together. It is at this stage that the real problem 
 of government arises, and the association creates 
 for itself a representative assembly, entrusted with 
 the task of legislation. 
 
 This does not mean that the final decision on 
 questions of policy passes altogether and neces- 
 sarily away from the whole body of the members. 
 There remain two ways in which the whole of the 
 members may still keep important decisions in their 
 own hands. They may choose to act through dele- 
 gates rather than representatives, and although 
 they cannot all meet together, the local members 
 may hold meetings in a number of centers to in- 
 struct their delegate, or, in the alternative, to advise 
 their representative, how to vote. Or they may 
 adopt the institution of the referendum, and insist 
 that important issues shall be submitted to a ballot 
 vote of all the members. 
 
 Both these expedients, however, are extremely 
 clumsy, when it is attempted to apply them to any 
 but the broadest and simplest issues. For, in either 
 case, every question has to be reduced to a simple
 
 GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION 119 
 
 Aye or No, and the possibility of adjustments, 
 amendments and new situations has to be left out 
 of account. The method of referendum or instruc- 
 tion is, I believe, the right method where the broad- 
 est and simplest issues are concerned; but it offers 
 no help in dealing with the more complex and de- 
 tailed issues which are constantly arising in almost 
 every association. 
 
 Men are driven, therefore, to the expedient of 
 the representative * legislative assembly for getting 
 the ordinary day-to-day work of the more complex 
 associations efficiently accomplished. In the less 
 complex associations, very often no separate 
 legislative assembly is created, but the Executive 
 Committee acts also as a legislature within the limits 
 which the purposes of the assembly require. The 
 more complex type of association, however, usually 
 creates a separate body for the task of legislation, 
 and calls this body together as required, the Execu- 
 tive Committee remaining in being to carry out its 
 decisions. In the most complex types of associa- 
 tion, such as the State, the legislative assembly, 
 as well as the Executive Committee, tends to 
 become permanent and to remain in almost con- 
 tinuous session. Even Parliament, however, has 
 only very gradually developed this permanent and 
 continuous character. The early Parliaments were 
 occasional bodies. 
 
 The purpose of this chapter is to investigate more 
 
 1 It is necessary to bear in mind, throughout this chapter, 
 
 the sense attached to the word "representation." It is always 
 
 functional representation alone that is to be regarded as true 
 
 representation.
 
 120 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 closely than we have yet done the actual ways of 
 operation of representative bodies and persons, in 
 order to see how the will of the members finds 
 expression through their representatives, and also 
 how it is sometimes perverted and twisted in passing 
 through the representatives' intermediary. One 
 of the most illuminating chapters of Rousseau's 
 Social Contract 1 deal with the "tendency of govern- 
 ment to deteriorate." All action through repre- 
 sentatives, he explains, involves to a certain extent 
 the substitution of the wills of the representatives 
 for those of the represented. Moreover, all groups 
 of men, by experience of acting together, tend 
 to develop in some degree a "common will" of their 
 own. Chosen to express the "common will" of 
 those whom they represent, they acquire a "com- 
 mon will" of their own different from that of the 
 represented. 
 
 We have given in the last chapter our reasons for 
 supposing that the definite limits and purposes 
 of functional representatives make these dangers 
 far less applicable to it than to so-called "repre- 
 sentation" which is general and not functional. 
 This, however, does not mean that, even with func- 
 tional representation, the danger altogether dis- 
 appears. It is, indeed, impossible that it should 
 ever disappear, unless as the result of a miracle 
 which would be also an overwhelming calamity. 
 For the possibility of Society is based on the fact 
 that, By acting together, men do as a rule develop 
 an increasing sense of community. This is the very 
 basis of Society; but it has inevitably its bad, as 
 1 Social Contract, bk. Hi., chap. x.
 
 GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION 121 
 
 well as its good, side. For it means that there is 
 a sense of community among thieves as well as 
 among honest men, and among members of com- 
 mittees and representative assemblies as well as 
 among members of groups and associations. It 
 means that, however faithfully the members of a 
 committee may try to fulfill their whole duty to their 
 members, an element of committee loyalty will 
 almost inevitably enter into their actions. They will 
 tend to back one another, whether they are right 
 or wrong, and, when one of them is in danger of 
 not being reflected, the rest will often tend to 
 support him even if they are aware that he is 
 not the best man for the job. They will say one 
 to another: "After all, we can't let down old 
 Jones." 
 
 It is an easy and a highly popular pastime to gird 
 at this idiosyncrasy of elected persons. But it is 
 useless to abuse men for being clannish; we must 
 rather recognize that the tendency to clannishness 
 is the cement of the social system, and make up 
 our minds to adopt the proper treatment in dealing 
 with it. In the first place, we must always try to 
 make the position of the representative as clear 
 and definite as possible, clearly marking out his 
 powers and functions and sphere of action and re- 
 sponsibility. And secondly, we must always try 
 to provide as a background for the action of the 
 representative, an active and continuously resource- 
 ful organized body of constituents. It is, I believe, 
 the presence of this continuously active constituency 
 that gives to the Soviet system, despite its counter- 
 vailing disadvantages, its peculiar vitality. In short
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 it is for the body of the members to counteract 
 the tendency to clannishness and even conspiracy 
 on the part of the elected persons by being clannish 
 and alert in pressing forward their own common 
 wills. 
 
 I have so far spoken of the tendency of bodies of 
 elected persons to substitute their own wills for the 
 wills which they are supposed to represent as if 
 it were a single and indivisible phenomenon. There 
 is, however, an important distinction not so much 
 in kind as in degree. There is the involuntary and 
 often quite unconscious perversion or substitution 
 which arises directly out of the fact that the mem- 
 bers of the representative body are constantly 
 acting and deliberating together; and there is also 
 the conscious and voluntary perversion which 
 may easily develop out of the unconscious perversion 
 unless it is strongly checked by the presence of an 
 active electorate. Cabinet Government is probably 
 the worst instance of such deliberate and conscious 
 perversion, of which the Party System is also an 
 awful, but illuminating, example. 1 Any long con- 
 tinuance of this, aggravated form of perversion 
 proves that there is something 'seriously wrong 
 either with the electorate as a whole or with the 
 form of representation. Its constant presence in the 
 political system of almost every country shows either 
 that the peoples of the world are fundamentally cor- 
 rupt or foolish, or that the generally accepted theory 
 of representative government is radically wrong. 
 
 1 See The Party System, by Hilaire Belloc and Cecil Chester- 
 ton, and Democracy and the Organization of Political Parties, 
 by Robert Michels.
 
 GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION 
 
 Perversion, by the substitution of the will of the 
 elected person for the wills he has been chosen to 
 represent, is liable to occur in all types of repre- 
 sentative body, and in all representative officials. 
 We have therefore been able so far to treat repre- 
 sentative institutions together without distinguish- 
 ing for the most part between the various types. The 
 next stage in our argument requires a more careful 
 and detailed examination of the types of repre- 
 sentative institutions with a view to ascertaining 
 their right relationship one to another and to the 
 represented. This brings us at once to a further 
 discussion of the relation between legislative and 
 executive power. 
 
 Many of the older writers on social science based 
 the greater part of their exposition of the forms of 
 social organization upon the double distinction of 
 legislative and executive power, or upon the triple 
 distinction of legislature, executive and judiciary. 
 I have endeavored elsewhere to show that the dis- 
 tinction between legislature and executive provides 
 no adequate basis for classifying the activities of 
 modern Societies. 1 It may be possible to distin- 
 guish with clearness sufficient for all practical pur- 
 poses between the work of law-making and the work 
 of seeing to the execution of the laws (leaving aside 
 for the moment the judicial aspect) as long as the 
 social situations to be dealt with remain essentially 
 simple and free from technical complications. But 
 in the communities of to-day law-making and law- 
 
 1 See Self-Government in Industry, chapter entitled "The 
 Nature of the State." The final section of the same chapter 
 deals with the judiciary.
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 administering inevitably run together. It is im- 
 possible to draft a law which will meet all the 
 complexities of the case, and consequently our Parlia- 
 ments and other legislative bodies are continually 
 passing laws, many of whose clauses virtually dele- 
 gate the power of legislation to the administrators, 
 by providing that such and such matters may be 
 dealt with by Order in Council or special order, or 
 that the Minister concerned may make Orders and 
 Regulations dealing with such and such a matter 
 provisions which effectively blur the already faint 
 line of division between legislation and administra- 
 tion. In some cases, the legislative body attempts to 
 retaliate and to establish a control over administra- 
 tion through parliamentary questions, interpella- 
 tions, adjournment motions, votes to reduce a salary 
 or a credit, Standing Committees, Select Commit- 
 tees and what not. The honors, however, under the 
 parliamentary system, rest as a rule with the 
 Executive, which steadily and successfully en- 
 croaches upon the sphere of legislation. 
 
 Nor are these phenomena confined to Cabinets 
 and political assemblies. They appear also in other 
 forms of association. Trade Union Executives try 
 to seize the power of legislation out of the hands of 
 Delegate Meetings ; and Delegate Meetings retaliate 
 by encroaching upon the sphere of administration. 
 Wherever much detailed and complicated business 
 has to be transacted, the line of demarcation between 
 legislature and executive tends to break down. 
 
 This breakdown has the more far-reaching con- 
 sequences for social theory. Great stress used to 
 be laid on the balance of powers between legis-
 
 GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION 125 
 
 lature and executive as a safeguard against tyranny 
 and perversion. Whatever value this principle may 
 have had in the past, it has little or none to-day, 
 except as a minor safeguard within each particular 
 association. Those who seek a balance of power in 
 social organization are therefore compelled to seek 
 for a new principle of division. The old theory was 
 an attempt to divide by stages the law was first 
 enacted by the legislature and it then passed on 
 to the succeeding stage of being administered by 
 the executive. If this method of division by stages 
 has broken down, there seems to be only one alter- 
 native open, if we desire to adhere to the principle 
 of balance in any form. That alternative is to divide 
 by function. 
 
 In earlier chapters of this book I have tried to 
 establish the preeminence of function as the primary 
 principle of social organization. We have now to 
 see what are the consequences of the acceptance of 
 this principle in the sphere of government. Instead 
 of a division based on the stage which an associa- 
 tive act has reached (the stage of law-making or the 
 stage of administration), it gives us a new principle 
 of division according, not to the stage, but to the 
 content and purpose of the act. In other words, the 
 principle of function implies that each functional 
 form of association has and is its own legislature 
 and its own executive. 
 
 This may seem either a very startling or a very 
 commonplace proposition according to the manner 
 in which it is interpreted. It is commnoplace, if it 
 only means that each association has to frame rules 
 or laws for its own guidance, and to administer the
 
 126 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 rules or laws which it has made. It is startling, if 
 it means that the laws of other functional associa- 
 tions have the same binding character and social 
 status as the laws of the State. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is the startling form of the prop- 
 osition which more nearly expresses what I mean. 
 It flows as a necessary consequence from the denial 
 of State Sovereignty and omnicompetence, and the 
 affirmation of the functional character proper to the 
 State, as to other associations, that the State's ex- 
 clusive claim to the right of legislation goes by 
 the board. It retains, of course, its right to legislate 
 within its function; but this right belongs also to 
 other associations in relation to their numbers and 
 within their respective functions. 
 
 This does not mean that all forms of functional 
 legislation are equally important, any more than all 
 forms of association are equally important. But it 
 does mean that, in the measure of their importance, 
 all forms of association acquire for their legislative 
 acts a comparable social status. 
 
 The full implications of this functional division 
 of legislation can only be made apparent at the end 
 of the four following chapters. I must, however, 
 at once try to meet, at least, provisionally, an ob- 
 jection which is almost certainly present already 
 in the reader's mind. If the power of legislation is 
 divided, he will ask, does not this also imply the 
 division of coercive power? Or, in other words, if 
 the State's exclusive right to legislate is challenged, 
 must not the State's exclusive right to use coercion 
 be challenged also? 
 
 I answer unhesitatingly that it must, and that
 
 GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION 127 
 
 the State's monopoly of coercive power disappears 
 with its loss of Sovereignty and of the monopoly of 
 legislation. But, before we deal finally with the 
 huge problem which is here raised, we must make 
 quite certain that we know what we mean by 
 coercion, and distinguish between various forms and 
 uses of coercive power.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 COERCION AND COORDINATION 
 
 WE ended the last chapter with what was vir- 
 tually an interrogation. What is the nature 
 of coercive power in the community, and 
 how, and in what forms, is it exercised ? 
 
 Every association, by the mere fact of its ex- 
 istence, is endowed with some coercive power, and 
 actually exercises some such power in the course of 
 pursuing its object. This coercive power is not 
 necessarily recognized by the community, and the 
 courts of law sometimes disallow particular exer- 
 cises of it by voluntary associations. Nevertheless 
 it exists, and is freely exercised every day. Very 
 many associations claim the right to fine their mem- 
 bers for breach of the rules, and nearly all claim the 
 final right of expelling a member who offends 
 against the etiquette or rules of the association, or 
 even who, in the opinion of the members, acts con- 
 trary to the interests of the association. Trade 
 Unions and many other kinds of association con- 
 stantly fine and often expel members, and it is very 
 seldom that their right to do so is challenged by the 
 courts in some particular case. Indeed, often the 
 law of the State, so far from disallowing such asso- 
 
 128 

 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 129 
 
 ciational coercion, backs it up and gives it legal 
 sanction, or at least acquiesces in its decisions. This 
 is especially the case in the "self-governing" profes- 
 sions, where the benchers of the Temple, or the 
 Law Society, or the General Medical Council, freely 
 use coercive power with the approval and sanction 
 of the State. Thus, we can find ample instances of 
 coercion by associations other than the State with- 
 out inviting that great coercionist, spiritual and tem- 
 poral, the Church. 
 
 There is, however, a distinction between three 
 kinds of coercion, which it is important to recognize 
 at the outset. There is one kind of coercion which 
 only affects a man's purse or property, that is 
 coercion by fine. This is freely employed, not only 
 by the State, but by most important types of associ- 
 ation. There is a second kind of coercion which af- 
 fects a man's freedom of action by limiting directly 
 his range of opportunity and self-expression, as, for 
 instance, by disfranchising him or forbidding him to 
 work in a particular factory or occupation. The first 
 is employed by the State and also by other forms 
 of association ; the second occurs when the members 
 of a Trade Union refuse to work with a non-Union- 
 ist, or expel a man from the Union and then refuse 
 to work with him, or when an employers' associa- 
 tion "blacklists" a man, and so prevents him from 
 getting a job. "Sending to Coventry" is a less or- 
 ganized example of this kind of coercion. 
 
 The third form of coercion is that which directly 
 affects a man's body, by limiting his right of move- 
 ment, interning him, imprisoning him, or, in the 
 last resort, hanging him, or shooting him, or cutting
 
 130 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 off his head. In civilized countries and in modern 
 times these forms of diversion are usually, at least 
 in the case of adults, the monopoly of the State. 
 Civilization, however, is often ready to resort to 
 them without calling in the State in its dealings with 
 what are politely called "non-adult" races, and also, 
 in a less degree, in the case of children. The per- 
 sistence of "lynch law" in some parts of the "civil- 
 ized" world is an exception. 
 
 How are these forms of coercion related to the 
 functional theory of Society which is propounded 
 in this book? Where, in other words, in a func- 
 tionally organized Society, would the power of coer- 
 cion in its various forms reside? 
 
 It is clearly useless to deny all coercive power to 
 any association which we are prepared to recognize 
 at all as legitimate; for whether we recognize the 
 right to coercion or not, the power will remain and 
 will be used. The most that is possible is to limit 
 the forms of coercion which may be used by any 
 particular functional association, and to reserve the 
 right to the more stringent forms of coercion in 
 the hands of that body which is most fit to exercise 
 it. It is futile to endeavor to prevent an associa- 
 tion which is allowed to make rules, and must make 
 rules if it is to get its work done at all, from using 
 some means to enforce their observance. Even if 
 an association is deprived of the means of coercing 
 its members directly, it will find indirect means of 
 coercing them by placing obstacles in their way or 
 withholding opportunities from them. Moreover, 
 it is impossible altogether to prevent an association 
 which exists to secure a particular object from
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 131 
 
 coercing to a certain extent persons not its members 
 who refuse to join it and pursue a contrary object 
 or the same object in a different way. Here, again, 
 the range and forms of coercion can be limited, but 
 the possibility of coercion cannot be altogether 
 abolished. 
 
 In a functionally organized Society, it seems 
 reasonable to suppose that each functional associa- 
 tion will employ directly the minor forms of coer- 
 cion in relation to its own members, acting within 
 strictly limited powers, and without the right to in- 
 terfere with life or liberty of person. This, how- 
 ever, only drives us back upon a further question. 
 What body in a functionally organized Society will 
 define the limits within which coercion may be em- 
 ployed by the various associations, and itself exer- 
 cise directly the major forms of coercion, if and 
 when they are required? 
 
 It is not difficult to recognize that this question 
 brings us back to the very point at which we broke 
 off in our discussion of the State. 1 We were there 
 confronted with the question of the body which 
 would, in a functional Society, exercise the powers 
 of coordination at present claimed by the "Sov- 
 ereign State." But clearly coordination and co- 
 ercion go hand in hand. 
 
 We are now in a position to restate more clearly 
 and fully the reasons which make it impossible to 
 recognize the task of coordination as falling within 
 the true function of the State. The claim on the 
 State's behalf is usually based on the assumption 
 that the State, because it represents and includes 
 1 See Chapter V.
 
 132 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 everybody within its area, is necessarily superior to 
 other associations which only include some of the 
 persons within its area. 1 But in what sense does the 
 State represent and include everybody? If our 
 functional theory of representation is right, it may 
 include everybody, but it does not include the whole 
 of everybody ; it may represent some purposes com- 
 mon to everybody, but it does not represent all the 
 purposes common to everybody. This being so, it 
 can no longer lay claim to Sovereignty on the ground 
 that it represents and includes everybody; for the 
 Sovereign, if there is one, must 'represent and 
 include, as far as possible, the whole of every- 
 body. 
 
 This it is impossible for any single association 
 to-day, and indeed impossible for any complex of 
 associations to do completely. For there are vast 
 tracts of life which are simply not susceptible to 
 social organization, and the purposes which they 
 include are therefore not capable of being repre- 
 sented at all. This is, however, only a statement in 
 other words of a fact which we have already recog- 
 nized that, as the State is not co-extensive with or- 
 ganized Society, so Society is not co-extensive with 
 community. 
 
 The principle of coordination which we are 
 seeking cannot therefore be a principle coordinating 
 all life within a given area, but only that part of life 
 which is social and susceptible to social organiza- 
 tion. But it must coordinate the whole of that or- 
 ganizable social life. It cannot therefore be found 
 
 *The fact that they may also include persons outside the 
 State's area is usually ignored.
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 133 
 
 in any one of the various forms of association which 
 we have described; for to each of these forms all 
 the others are external, and no one of them could 
 act as a coordinating agency either between the 
 others or between itself and the rest. We are there- 
 fore reduced to the conclusion that no one among 
 the many forms of functional association can be 
 the coordinating body of which we are in search. 
 
 A dim perception of this difficulty has led social 
 theorists into a variety of expedients. Some have 
 maintained, like Rousseau, that Sovereignty resides 
 inalienably in the whole body of the people and is 
 incapable of being conferred upon any form of 
 organization at all. But such a view inevitably 
 encounters the difficulty that, although the Sover- 
 eignty of the people is affirmed, no means can be 
 found of making it actual, and all the important 
 exercises of it pass into the hands of governing 
 bodies which thus become virtually sovereign, even 
 while their Sovereignty is being denied. 1 
 
 Where this difficulty is recognized as being 
 insuperable, at least in any large Society, the at- 
 tempt is sometimes made to preserve popular Sov- 
 ereignty by the constant use of the referendum. But 
 a mere "Yes or No" vote, without the possibility 
 of discussion or amendment, reduces popular Sover- 
 eignty to a farce except on the broadest issues, and 
 once more the real power passes to the Government, 
 or to whoever draws up the ballot papers and so 
 decides the form of the question to be submitted. 
 None of these mechanical expedients really gets over 
 
 1 See my Introduction to Rousseau's Social Contract (Ev- 
 eryman edition), p. xxvi.
 
 134. SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the difficulty. The referendum may be the best 
 way of dealing with certain simple issues; but by 
 itself it certainly does not maintain popular Sover- 
 eignty; nor does the addition of the initiative to 
 it make any substantial difference. 
 
 If neither any single functional association nor the 
 people itself can be the normal coordinating agency 
 in a functionally organized Society, only one possi- 
 bility remains. The coordinating body must be 
 not any single association, but a combination of asso- 
 ciations, a federal body in which some or all of 
 the various functional associations are linked to- 
 gether. 
 
 It will be remembered that, in the chapter on 
 "The Forms and Motives of Association," some 
 attempt was made to discriminate between essential 
 and non-essential forms of association. It was 
 recognized that any such discrimination could be 
 only approximate, because even the essential forms 
 would tend to vary in different times and places. 
 We did, however, succeed in establishing a working 
 principle of discrimination. "The key to essen- 
 tiality," we saw, "is the performance of some func- 
 tion which is vital to the coherent working of 
 Society, and without which Society would be lop- 
 sided or incomplete." We saw there that, apart 
 from religious association, which we reserved for 
 special treatment, there are at least three forms of 
 association which are to be regarded as generally 
 essential. These are political association and the 
 two forms of "economic" association or rather of 
 association centering round the giving and receiving 
 of services, that is to say, vocational and appetitive
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 135 
 
 association. 1 We saw also that the essentiality of 
 these forms of association in general does not suffice 
 to establish the essentiality of any particular 
 association belonging to one of these forms, unless 
 two further conditions are satisfied. The motive 
 which binds men together in the association must 
 be a truly "associative" motive, 2 and the content 
 or function of the particular association, and not 
 merely of its form, must be important enough to 
 warrant its being regarded as "essential" in accord- 
 ance with the criterion stated above. 
 
 I do not propose to push further in this book the 
 analysis of the essential forms and instances of 
 association. To determine what actual associations 
 are to be regarded as essential at a particular time 
 and for a particular Society is a practical question, 
 and is therefore alien to a work dealing with Social 
 Theory. 3 Here we are concerned only with the 
 general question with the attempt to discover the 
 principle of coordination in a functionally organized 
 Society. 
 
 This principle has already been made inferentially 
 clear. The coordinating agency can only be a 
 combination, not of all associations, but of all 
 essential associations, a Joint Council or Congress 
 of the supreme bodies representing each of the main 
 functions in Society. Each functional association 
 will see to the execution of its own function, and for 
 the coordination of the activities of the various 
 
 1 See Chapter IV., pp. 63 ff. 
 
 * For the definition of "associative" motive, see pp. 34 ff. 
 
 * For a discussion on this point, see my Self -Government in 
 Industry, especially the chapter on the State and the introduc- 
 tory chapter prefixed to the edition of 1919.
 
 186 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 associations there must be a joint body representa- 
 tive of them. 
 
 Here a serious objection will almost certainly be 
 encountered. Is not this, it will be asked, merely a 
 very roundabout way of proposing a change in the 
 method of electing the representatives who form the 
 State? It has often been proposed that the prin- 
 ciple of vocational electorates should be partially 
 recognized and incorporated in the constitution side 
 by side with the geographical principle that, for 
 example, the House of Lords should be replaced by 
 a vocational Second Chamber. It will be suggested 
 that, after all our blare of trumpets, this is what our 
 "great change" comes to in the end. 
 
 This is not so. There are two absolutely vital 
 differences between the theory which I have been 
 putting forward and the proposal to establish a 
 vocational Second Chamber. 
 
 In the first place, the assumption of the "Voca- 
 tional Chamber" theory is that all forms of legis- 
 lation, no matter what their content, continue to be 
 dealt with by both Chambers and initiated in either. 
 Functional organization, on the other hand, is ex- 
 plicitly designed to enable each functional body to 
 deal with those matters which belong to its function, 
 without interference in its normal operations from 
 any outside body. Thus, purely political questions 
 belong exclusively to the sphere of the State, purely 
 vocational questions to the sphere of vocational as- 
 sociation. It is only when a question affects more 
 than one form of association, that is, affects men in 
 more than one capacity or function, that it is neces- 
 sary to appeal beyond the purely functional body to
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 137 
 
 some body on which the various functions are repre- 
 sented. The whole basis of functional organization 
 is designed to enable each functional body to get on 
 with its own job the job which the members know 
 how to do, and by virtue of their common interest 
 in which they have become associated. 
 
 Secondly, the coordinating or "joint" body 
 which I have in mind is less an administrative or 
 legislative body, though it cannot help partaking in 
 some degree of both these characters, than a court of 
 appeal. It does not in the normal case initiate; it 
 decides. It is not so much a legislature as a con- 
 stitutional judiciary, or democratic Supreme Court 
 of Functional Equity. 
 
 If this is clear, we can return to the question from 
 which we were led into this discussion. Coercion 
 and coordination, we said, go hand in hand. If the 
 supreme power of coordination rests in the hands 
 of this "joint" body compounded from the essential 
 functional associations, it seems clear that the 
 supreme power of coercion must rest in the same 
 hands. This involves that the judiciary and the 
 whole paraphernalia of law and police must be under 
 the control of the coordinating body. 
 
 We saw in the last chapter that the functional 
 organization of Society necessarily involves the 
 division of power of legislation, as well as of ad- 
 ministration, along functional lines. It does not, 
 however, involve a similar division of the judiciary. 
 This question, it will be remembered, we reserved 
 for further treatment, our reason being that it could 
 not be dealt with until we came to discuss the 
 questions of coordination and coercion.
 
 138 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 The sole possession of a high degree of coercive 
 power, and especially of coercive power of the third 
 kind, which directly affects a man's body, by any 
 single form of functional association, would clearly 
 upset the social balance at which we are aiming, 
 and place the ultimate social power in the hands of 
 that form of association. On the other hand, its 
 possession in an equal degree by each of the essential 
 forms of association would be not only, to say the 
 least of it, inconvenient, and an invitation to the 
 sort of cat-and-dog fight which went on between 
 Church and State in the Middle Ages, but also a 
 denial of the relation of men to association which 
 is postulated as fundamental in this study. We 
 have seen that a man is a member of an association, 
 not with his whole personality, but with that part 
 of it which he puts into the association in pursuance 
 of the common object which is its function. This 
 being so, the association has at the most no right to 
 coerce the individual in his whole personality, but 
 only in that part of it which he has put into the 
 association. The right to the higher forms of coer- 
 cion cannot, then, reside either in any one associa- 
 tion or in all such associations. It must, however, 
 be in the hands of a single body, if only for reasons 
 of convenience; and this body can therefore only be 
 the coordinating body which is a synthesis of the 
 various essential forms of association. 
 
 Even so, there is a strict limit to the coercive 
 power to which even the coordinating body is 
 entitled. For, as we have seen, the individual puts 
 into Society, that is into social organization, not 
 his whole personality, but only those parts of it
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 139 
 
 which can find expression through social organiza- 
 tion. The coercive right of Society as a whole is 
 therefore limited, and there remains a sphere un- 
 touched by social organization in which the indi- 
 vidual retains his freedom from coercion. 1 It fol- 
 lows that Society has no right to put any man to 
 death; for death involves a total cessation of per- 
 sonality on this earth, at any rate. 
 
 Even with this safeguard, I rather suspect that 
 many readers have been regarding what has been 
 said in this chapter with a good deal of suspicion 
 and dislike. So much talk about coercion, they 
 will say, augurs ill for the sort of Society which 
 requires it. What is wanted, they will urge, is to 
 get away from the whole idea of coercion as the 
 basis of Society ; for it is its coercive character that 
 makes the State such a nasty body. 
 
 But it is of no use to refuse to talk about a thing 
 because one does not happen to like it. However 
 much one may dislike coercion and seek to reduce 
 its operation in Society to a minimum, it is necessary 
 to provide for its exercise, if only to supply a means 
 for its abolition. For only that body which possesses 
 coercive power is in a position to forego or prohibit 
 its exercise. 
 
 Having discovered where coercive power must 
 reside in a functional Society, we are now in a posi- 
 tion to give vent to our dislike of it. One of the 
 greatest results which, I believe, would flow from the 
 full recognition of functional organization would 
 be a substantial and immediate reduction in the use 
 of coercion in Society. For coercion is the conse- 
 1 For a development of this point, see Chapter XII.
 
 140 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 quence of social disorder, and the need for it largely 
 comes, not of innate human wickedness, but of 
 men's failure under existing social conditions to 
 find their proper spheres of social service and to 
 recognize clearly their rights and obligations in So- 
 ciety. If we set our social house in order and 
 make it easier for men to recognize their proper 
 sphere of social service, the need for coercion will, I 
 believe, speedily and progressively disappear. 1 
 
 Moreover, there is another huge advantage of 
 functional Society over State Sovereignty. The 
 theory of the Sovereign State means that the pigmy, 
 man, is confronted by the leviathan, State, which 
 encircles and absorbs him wholly, or at least claims 
 the absolute right to encircle and absorb him. It 
 claims to "represent" fully all the individuals who 
 are its members, and therefore to be absolutely 
 superior to them and over them, and to come always 
 first. The functional principle destroys any such 
 claim; for its denial that the individual can be 
 "represented" in any complete sense means -that 
 social organization, however vast and complicated 
 it may be, leaves the individual intact and self-sub- 
 sistent, distributing his loyalties and obligations 
 among a number of functional bodies, but not ab- 
 sorbed in any or all of them, because outside the 
 sphere of functional organization there remains 
 always that most vital sphere of individuality whose 
 self-expression is essentially personal and incapable 
 of being organized. The functional principle is, 
 
 1 This view appears to be also largely that of Mr. Bertrand 
 Russell, who adopts Guild Socialism as a step towards a non- 
 coercive Society. See his Roads to Freedom.
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 141 
 
 above all else, the recognition of the absolute and 
 inalienable personal identity of every individual 
 person. 1 
 
 There is one further point with which we must 
 deal before bringing this chapter to an end. In 
 dealing with the nature of the State, we discussed 
 briefly the international aspects of social organiza- 
 tion. We saw that international action, or the ex- 
 ternal actions of a particular Society, have their 
 various functional aspects, in which they fall within 
 the sphere of the various forms of functional asso- 
 ciation. There remain those parts of international 
 or external action which involve more than one 
 function or call for action by Society as a whole. 
 Foremost among these there will no doubt leap to 
 the mind of the reader the control of armed forces 
 the Army, Navy and Air Force. Where, in a 
 functional Society, would the control of these 
 reside? Who would declare war or make peace or 
 treaties and covenants affecting Society as a whole ? 
 Who would represent a functional Society in a 
 League of Nations? 
 
 The answers to all these questions follow logically 
 from what has already been established. The 
 external use of force and coercion raises similar 
 problems to its internal use, and it is even more 
 manifest in external relations that the right to use it 
 must be concentrated in the hands of a single body. 
 One part of Society cannot be at peace while another 
 
 1 For a fuller discussion of this point, see my paper on "Con- 
 flicting Social Obligations" (Proceedings of the Aristotelian 
 Society, 1915-16), and the chapter on "The Organization of 
 Freedom" in my Labor in the Commonwealth.
 
 143 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 part is at war; for the claims of war upon the 
 individual citizen are not limited to an eight hours' 
 day, or to the act of voting; they involve for him 
 the risk of death by violence or starvation. No less 
 clearly is it impossible to entrust external force to 
 any single functional association, both because 
 external affairs involve and interest all the essential 
 forms of association, and because force intended 
 for use externally is also available for internal use, 
 and sole control of armed forces would make the 
 association which possessed it the master of Society. 
 We must, therefore, once more conclude that the 
 external, like the internal, means of coercion, must 
 be in the hands of the body which represents the 
 various social functions, and is entrusted with the 
 task of coordination. 
 
 Here, again, I am dealing with the problem of 
 external force, not because Armies and Navies and 
 wars are nice things, but because, whether they are 
 nice or nasty, the problem which they present has 
 to be faced. I hope with all my heart that they will 
 disappear before the growth of international coop- 
 eration, not only between States, but between all 
 the various forms of functional association. 
 Moreover, I believe that functional association, 
 which has already shown itself far ahead of States 
 in its sense of international solidarity, offers the 
 best hope of a condition of World Society which 
 will make external force unnecessary, and will also 
 persuade everybody, except the incorrigible and 
 disappointed militarists, that it is unnecessary. 
 
 Here, then, is the answer to our last question 
 Who would represent a functional Society on a
 
 COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION 143 
 
 League of Nations? The answer is that an inter- 
 national Society, which in embryo a League of 
 Nations is, if it is anything more than a sham, 
 would reproduce in itself the functional structure 
 of the smaller Societies composing it. Inter- 
 national functional association "would undertake, 
 in the wider sphere, the work undertaken in the 
 narrower sphere by national functional organization, 
 and the central coordinating body would reproduce 
 internationally the federal structure of the national 
 coordinating bodies. This, no doubt, assumes a cer- 
 tain homogeneity of structure among the Socie- 
 ties composing the League; but it is at least doubtful 
 whether, without a considerable element of homo- 
 geneity, a League of Nations could possibly work. 
 A perception of this perhaps accounts for the desire 
 of the "Sovereign States," which have just formed 
 a League, to impress upon all candidates for entry 
 the particular structure, economic and political, 
 which they themselves possess. 1 
 
 1 This point is further discussed in my Labor in the Com- 
 monwealth, chap. ii.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 
 
 THERE will be a certain type of reader who 
 will regard the greater part of this book as 
 beside the point, or at best as a harmless form 
 of theoretical diversion. I am ignoring, he will say, 
 or relegating to a quite secondary position the factor 
 which in reality dominates and determines the 
 whole course of social organization. Political or- 
 ganization, and indeed every essential form of asso- 
 ciative life, is, in his view, the result of economic 
 conditions and of the distribution of economic 
 power in the community, and the changes which 
 occur from time to time in social organization are 
 equally the results of changes in the economic 
 circumstances. In the words of Marx and Engels, 
 "The economic structure of Society is the real 
 basis on which the judicial and political super- 
 structure is raised in short, the mode of produc- 
 tion determines the character of the social, polit- 
 ical, and intellectual life generally." 
 
 It is necessary for us to take notice of this point 
 of view, and to admit at once the large measure of 
 truth which it possesses, if our exposition of the 
 theoretical basis of Society is to have any vital 
 
 144
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 145 
 
 contact with the working of actual Societies. In- 
 deed, we have already, at several stages of our 
 argument, laid stress on the vital importance of the 
 economic factor in influencing and directing the 
 working of other forms of association, as well as the 
 interaction of various economic factors and associa- 
 tions. We have, however, always treated the in- 
 fluence of economic factors upon non-economic 
 forms of association as a form of perversion, lead- 
 ing to a failure of the association so affected to ful- 
 fill its proper function in Society. If the Marxian 
 thesis is right in its entirety, we must abandon this 
 view; for it is folly to regard as "perversion" a 
 phenomenon which flows directly from the nature of 
 Society itself, or to treat as independent forms of 
 association bodies and manifestations which are 
 only the "superstructure" of economic organiza- 
 tion. 
 
 In fact, we are here faced by a theory which is the 
 complete inversion of the theory of State Sover- 
 eignty which we have already rejected. Having 
 pulled down the State from its pedestal, we are asked 
 to install the economic structure of Society in its 
 place. There is, however, a profound difference in 
 the argument advanced. Although the claim of the 
 State to Sovereignty is sometimes based on the fact 
 that it is the sole repository of armed force, this 
 argument is not very often or very persistently em- 
 ployed ; for it is clear that there is no reason in the 
 nature of the State why it should occupy this 
 position, and also increasingly clear that there exist 
 other forms of "force," such as the strike, which 
 may under favorable conditions successfully
 
 146 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 challenge even a monopolist in armed force. The 
 case for State Sovereignty is therefore usually ar- 
 gued not on this basis of fact, but on what is put 
 forward as a basis of right. The State is said to be 
 sovereign, because it represents everybody. 
 
 The argument that the economic structure of 
 Society is, if I may use the term, "sovereign," is 
 based on quite different grounds. It is not as a 
 rule suggested that economic conditions ought 
 to be the supreme determinant in Society, but only 
 that they are and must be, owing to the operation 
 of forces beyond our control. The advocates of 
 this theory the "materialist" or "economic" con- 
 ception of history are indeed apt to be impatient 
 of "oughts" and rights. They claim that their 
 conception is "scientific," and base it upon the stern 
 laws of necessity and material evolution. Whatever 
 fine theories other people may spin, they continue 
 to proclaim the hard fact that the human race 
 marches upon its belly, and that the economic order 
 of Society determines everything else. 
 
 Whatever the process of argument, the result ar- 
 rived at is in one respect the same as that arrived 
 at by the advocates of State Sovereignty. Func- 
 tional organization in either case disappears, or 
 appears only as a subordinate form determined by 
 and existing on the sufferance of a single form of 
 organization, which, even if it has a functional basis, 
 is not in its operation confined to any particular 
 function. 
 
 There is, however, still an ambiguity in the 
 materialist conception. What is meant by the 
 words, "the economic structure of Society"? Do
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 147 
 
 they refer to actual associations, such as Trade 
 Unions or capitalist associations, andlo the distri- 
 bution of power among such associations? Or do 
 they, as the final clause of our quotation from Marx 
 and Engels rather seems to suggest, refer to the 
 actual material conditions existing in Society, 
 without regard to the associations which are re- 
 lated to these conditions ? 
 
 There is no doubt that the direct reference is not 
 to associations but to the material conditions 
 themselves. But it is held that each set of material 
 conditions finds its necessary expression in a set of 
 associations and a form of social organization of its 
 own. Thus, one set of associations corresponded to, 
 and arose out of, the productive conditions of 
 primitive Society; another set was the inevitable 
 result of the productive conditions of the Middle 
 Ages ; and yet another set, under which we are now 
 living, has been called into existence by the great 
 inventions and the development of large-scale 
 production which marked the period of the In- 
 dustrial Revolution. Each set of economic condi- 
 tions changes gradually, with or without a sharp 
 break or upheaval at some point, into the next, 
 and each new set of associations grows and is built 
 up gradually within the old, until the conditions 
 are ripe for it to assert its dominance, and for the 
 obsolete set of associations to be discarded. Thus, 
 within the capitalist system, a new set of associa- 
 tions is being built up which will take the place of 
 Capitalism; but those new associations, Trade 
 Unions and other working-class bodies, are as much
 
 148 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the products of economic conditions as the capitalist 
 system itself. 
 
 As an analysis of the growth of Capitalism, and 
 of the working of capitalist institutions both in the 
 past and at the present time, this theory is so largely 
 right that the points at which it is wrong are easily 
 overlooked. Yet there are at least two considerable 
 misstatements involved in it, as it is most com- 
 monly expressed. 
 
 In the first place, it does not prove, as is often 
 contended, that the form of non-economic associa- 
 tions is determined by economic conditions, but 
 only that their actual working and methods of 
 operation are so determined. Thus, when a prom- 
 inent Marxist 1 writes a book to prove that the 
 State as an association is the political expression of 
 Capitalism and will disappear with the overthrow 
 of Capitalism, what he actually does prove is that, 
 while Capitalism exists as the dominant social 
 form, the State will be forced to do the bidding of 
 Capitalism, and will be, in actual fact, the political 
 expression of the dominant economic power of 
 the capitalist classes. What he does not prove is 
 that, with the overthrow of Capitalism, the State 
 will disappear ; or that it will not be able to assume 
 and exercise its true function as soon as the eco- 
 nomic pressure of Capitalism is removed. 
 
 In other words, his argument does not in any 
 sense disprove our thesis that what occurs under 
 Capitalism is a perversion of the true function of 
 the State, and its use, not as a political instrument 
 of the whole people, but as a secondary economico- 
 *The State: its Origin and Function. By William Paul.
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 149 
 
 political instrument by the dominant economic 
 class. 
 
 Secondly, although the State is in fact largely an 
 "Executive Committee for administering the affairs 
 of the capitalist class," it is not exclusively so. 
 Perversion of function is not carried so far as to 
 obliterate all signs and traces of its real function. 
 Indeed, by examining the actual working of the 
 State, even under capitalist conditions, we have been 
 able to assign to it its essential function in a ration- 
 ally ordered Society. Under any economic system 
 the State will continue to exercise functions which 
 are not economic, and the perversion of its activi- 
 ties by economic causes will not extend continuously 
 to all its doings. 
 
 It will be seen that the line of argument which I 
 am adopting is an endorsement of a large part of 
 the Marxian case. While I cannot accept the neo- 
 Marxian criticism of the State as universally true, 
 or as touching the State in its real social function, 
 I am accepting its general truth as it applies to the 
 State of to-day. It is the case that the functioning, 
 not only of the State, but also of most other forms 
 of association, including the economic forms them- 
 selves perhaps more than any, is perverted by the 
 influence exercised upon them by economic factors. 
 
 Nor is the reason for this widespread perversion 
 far to seek. It is embedded in the present economic 
 structure of Society. For, instead of being organ- 
 ized as a coherent whole for the complementary 
 performance of social functions, men are to-day 
 organized in the economic sphere in conflicting 
 groups, each of which is at least as much concerned
 
 150 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 with getting the better of the others and diverting 
 to its own use as much as possible of the product of 
 labor as with serving the community by the per- 
 formance of a useful function. Thus the economic 
 sphere of social action has become a battle-ground 
 of contending sections, and these combatants are 
 also irresistibly impelled to widen their battle- 
 front so as to lay waste the tracts of social organiza- 
 tion which lie outside the economic sphere. Thus, 
 trade rivalries lead to wars between nations ; internal 
 industrial dissension leads employers' associations 
 and Trade Unions to seek direct representation in 
 Parliament, and to extend into the political sphere 
 their economic disputes; and finally, the whole 
 people tends to rally to the one standard or the 
 other, and to make Society as a whole a "devas- 
 tated area" of economic conflict and class-war. 
 
 I am not concerned to insist here on my belief 
 that Labor is in the right, and Capitalism in the 
 wrong in this struggle, but solely to insist that, 
 wherever the right lies, the existence of such an 
 economic conflict in Society is fatal to the due per- 
 formance of its function by each form of social 
 organization. Indeed, this statement can be made 
 more general; for economic conflict is not the only 
 sort of division that can so rend a community 
 asunder as largely to stop the functioning of 
 its various parts. Religious differences, as we shall 
 see later, can produce and have produced the same 
 results, and there is no final reason why some 
 other matter of discord should not produce them 
 if it arouses strong enough feelings in a sufficient 
 part of the population. We may say, then, that
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 151 
 
 the existence of a profound social cleavage in regard 
 to the fulfillment of any essential social function 
 is prejudicial, and may be fatal, to the performance 
 of its proper function by each form of social 
 organization. 
 
 In our own Society at least, and in the larger 
 industrialized communities generally, economic 
 divisions are at the present time the principal ob- 
 stacles to the fulfillment of social functions. 
 Great inequalities of wealth and economic status 
 lead inevitably, under the modern conditions which 
 necessarily favor large-scale combination on both 
 sides, to cleavages in Society that are bound to 
 assume the character of open conflicts. It is 
 therefore useless to expect that the various forms 
 of association will perform their functions properly 
 as long as the conditions which make for such 
 conflicts continue in existence. The only remedy 
 lies in some form of approximate, or comparatively 
 economic equality. 
 
 It must be made clear that this assertion is not 
 a plea for, or a declaration of faith in, any par- 
 ticular economic system, even if faith in a particular 
 system is implied in much of this book. Compara- 
 tive or approximate economic equality is possible 
 under more than one system, and I am Marxian 
 enough to believe that different systems are re- 
 quired for its attainment under different economic 
 and productive systems. Thus, a generally diffused 
 system of peasant proprietorship, such as Mr. 
 Belloc and his followers have made an undeniably 
 heroic theoretical attempt to adapt to the conditions
 
 152 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 of modern industrialized Societies, 1 is certainly a 
 possible approximation to equality for an agrarian 
 Society, and under it such a Society might hope to 
 find its various functional associations doing their 
 jobs with some approximation to propriety. All 
 the various schools of Socialist thought Collectiv- 
 ist, Communist, Guild Socialist, Syndicalist set out 
 to provide a basis for economic equality on the 
 opposite principle, not of the general diffusion and 
 distribution, but of the concentration and social 
 ownership of the means of production. Any of these 
 systems, whatever their other faults, might, given 
 an appropriate set of material conditions as a basis, 
 provide economic equality and thereby make possible 
 the functioning of Society without perversion from 
 economic causes. But without virtual economic 
 equality it is useless to look for the disappearance' 
 or subordination of class-conflict, and therefore 
 useless to expect Society to function aright, either 
 economically or in any other sphere. 
 
 In granting so much to the "materialists," how- 
 ever, we must be careful to make clear what we do 
 not grant. Although Society does in one sense walk 
 upon its belly, it does not by any means follow 
 either that the things of the belly must always be 
 Society's main concern, or that they will always 
 continue to dominate and determine the other 
 forms of social action. Far from it. The present 
 dominance of economic considerations in Society is 
 based on two things the "struggle for bread" 
 and the "struggle for power." In the struggle for 
 
 1 See The Servile State, by Hilaire Belloc, and The Real De- 
 mocracy, by J. E. F. Mann, N. J. Sievers, and R. W. T. Cox.
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 153 
 
 bread there are two factors shortage and maldis- 
 tribution to be considered. In so far as pro- 
 ductive power falls short, and there is a real de- 
 ficiency in the supply of commodities to supply 
 real needs, there exists an economic problem which 
 will continue to trouble us whatever social system we 
 may adopt, until we find a remedy in increasing 
 production. But in so far as productive power 
 is adequate, but difficulty arises over the division 
 of the product, i.e. maldistribution, the problem 
 disappears with the realization of economic equality. 
 And with the disappearance of this problem goes 
 also one of the two causes which make the eco- 
 nomic factors dominate the other factors in social 
 organization. 
 
 The second cause, the "struggle for power," 
 remains. This is not exclusively or in its nature 
 economic; but it manifests itself in the economic 
 sphere in a struggle between economic classes for 
 the control of industry. With the abolition of 
 economic class, and the establishment of unified 
 functional control of industries by all the persons 
 engaged in them, the social struggle for economic 
 power also disappears, and the second cause of the 
 predominance of economic factors is also removed. 
 In other words, democratic functional organization 
 and approximate economic equality are the condi- 
 tions of the removal of the dominance of economic 
 factors in Society. 
 
 In short, if economic classes and class-conflicts 
 are done away with, the Marxian thesis will no 
 longer hold good, and economic power will no longer 
 be the dominant factor in Society. Economic con-
 
 154- SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 siderations will lose their unreal and distorted mag- 
 nitude in men's eyes, and will retain their place as 
 one group among others round which the necessary 
 social functions are centered. For the artificial ma- 
 terial valuation of social things, which is forced upon 
 us by the actual structure of present-day Society, it 
 will become possible to substitute a spiritual valua- 
 tion. When once we have got the economic sphere 
 of social action reasonably organized on functional 
 lines, we shall be free to forget about it most of the 
 time, and to interest ourselves in other matters. 
 The economic sphere will not, of course, be any less 
 essential than before ; but it will need less attention. 
 Always associations and institutions, as well as 
 people, need most attention when they are least 
 "themselves." Our preoccupation with econom- 
 ics occurs only because the economic system is 
 diseased. 
 
 Needless to say, the organization of the "eco- 
 nomic substratum" of Society on functional lines 
 would produce a very different economic organiza- 
 tion from that which exists in Society at the present 
 time. To-day, almost all the economic forms of as- 
 sociation are doubled with counter-association of 
 workers responding to association of employers, 
 often with associations of managers and profession- 
 als trying to steer an awkward course between these 
 persistent Symplegades. All this duplication of asso- 
 ciations is not merely wasteful, but actively perni- 
 cious. It means that energy, which is required for 
 the service of the community, is diverted and per- 
 verted into a conflict which, from the standpoint of 
 the community, produces nothing.
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 155 
 
 This it not to condemn those who engage in, or 
 actively stir up, such conflict. The class-divisions 
 and economic inequalities which exist in Society 
 make the conflict not merely inevitable, but the only 
 means to the attainment of better conditions. It 
 has been truly said that there is no instance in his- 
 tory of a dominant economic class giving up 
 its position except under the pressure of a rising 
 economic class which has become stronger than 
 itself. The only end to this process is the abolition 
 of economic classes and the realization of economic 
 equality. 
 
 The economic structure of Society can only be 
 properly adjusted to the due performance of its 
 function when the elements of conflict, and with 
 them the conflicting forms of economic association, 
 are resolved into a functional unity. This would in- 
 volve the disappearance of some, and the radical 
 reorganization and re-orientation of others, of the 
 existing types of economic association. The em- 
 ployers' association and the Trade Union would 
 alike be out of place as primarily offensive and 
 defensive forms of organization, and the main types 
 of association would find their motive not in defense 
 or offense, but in social service. The personnel of 
 industry would no longer be divided into opposing 
 camps, but united in its common pursuit of its func- 
 tion of the social organization of production. 
 
 If this chapter seems altogether too general and 
 unsubstantial to be a real analysis or criticism of 
 the economic part of the social structure, that is 
 because I am loth, by plunging into details of pres-
 
 156 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 ent-day organization, to overweight this book with 
 controversies which are irrelevant to its central 
 purpose. I am trying to speak in general terms, 
 leaving the application to be made, and the moral 
 to be pointed, by others or in other bodies. I have 
 tHerefore not attempted to describe the present or 
 past or future economic organization of Society, but 
 only to point out where economic conditions and 
 organization do, and do not, affect the structure and 
 working of Society as a whole. Ordinary "political 
 theory" has suffered immeasurably from its ignoring 
 of the economic aspects and structure of the social 
 system, while Marxian theory suffers from its 
 persistent identification of the economic structure 
 with Society as a whole. I have tried to avoid both 
 these mistakes, and at the same time to recognize 
 the vast influence which economic conditions must 
 always have upon the character of social organiza- 
 tion as a whole, and to point out wherein it seems to 
 me this influence would be limited and made definite 
 under a system of economic equality. 
 
 There are economic arguments and moral argu- 
 ments enough in favor of the adoption of the prin- 
 ciple of equality in the economic sphere. With these 
 arguments I am not here concerned. I have tried 
 only to start the argument for economic equality 
 from the standpoint of social theory and social or- 
 ganization. In conclusion, let me restate this argu- 
 ment in a single sentence. 
 
 The existence of economic inequality means that 
 each form of association in Society, instead of at- 
 tending to the fulfillment of its own social func- 
 tion, is perverted to serve economic ends, and
 
 ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY 157 
 
 that thereby the whole balance and coherence of 
 Society are destroyed, and, in the last resort, revo- 
 lution is converted from a menace into a 
 necessity for the restoration of a reasonable social 
 system.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 REGIONALISM AND LOCAL GOVERNMENT 
 
 IN our treatment of the State in earlier chap- 
 ters, we explicitly reserved for later consideration 
 the question of local government. One good 
 reason for adopting this course was that the question 
 of local organization arises not only in relation to 
 the political structure of Society, but also in relation 
 to its economic structure and to the structure of 
 every functional form of association. For us, the 
 problem of local government is not merely a problem 
 of the relations between the State and the "local 
 authorities," but of the whole organization of 
 Society over larger and smaller geographical 
 areas. 
 
 It is being realized to an increasing extent that 
 the problem of the areas of government and 
 administration is not a purely political question, 
 but also raises at once many economic issues. Thus, 
 it is often made a cause of complaint against the 
 existing areas of local government that they do not 
 correspond to economic requirements. An efficient 
 tramway service needs to serve the areas of several 
 neighboring towns as well as the rural districts 
 between them ; the supply of water and other public 
 utility services could be better administered if the 
 
 158
 
 REGIONALISM 159 
 
 areas of local government were enlarged; what 
 has grown to be essentially a single city is often 
 divided into several boroughs with their separate 
 administrations; a town or city is constantly faced 
 with the overflow of its suburbs into the areas of 
 surrounding authorities. Similarly, in the purely 
 economic sphere, we have schemes for the regional- 
 ization of the coal-mining industry under big 
 regional trusts. 1 
 
 These are only a few instances of the insistence 
 with which the problem of areas is forcing itself 
 upon our consideration at the present time. Here, 
 we are not concerned directly with the solution of 
 these particular difficulties, but with the general 
 problem of the areas of functional administration, 
 and the relations of larger and smaller areas within a 
 given Society. Clearly, the tendency at the present 
 time is for the areas of administration to enlarge 
 themselves continually in response to the growth in 
 the scale of production and to the continual ex- 
 pansion and "running into one another" of the 
 growing towns and urban areas. 
 
 The case for the preservation of small areas and 
 units of government has been again and again 
 clearly and forcibly stated. It has been pointed out 
 that, as areas grow larger, the direct contact between 
 the representative and the represented tends to dis- 
 appear, and the unreality of representation grows 
 greater and more evident. Rousseau held that 
 
 1 For the economic difficulties involved in existing areas of 
 local government, see State and Municipal Enterprise, by S. 
 and B. Webb (Labor Research Department) ; and for re- 
 gionalization of coal mines, see Sir A. Duckham's scheme in 
 the Reports of the Coal Industry Commission.
 
 160 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 democracy as only possible in small Societies, 
 because only in small Societies could the people as 
 a whole retain its control over the conduct of affairs. 
 Mr. Penty and the craftsmen, Mr. Chesterton in 
 The Napoleon of Notting Hill, and other and graver 
 authorities, have put the case for the small unit as 
 the human unit which makes possible a spirit of 
 neighborhood and unity which is difficult to attain 
 over larger areas. The followers of Professor 
 Patrick Geddes have infused into their conception 
 of "Town-Planning" the love of the small area. It 
 is, I think, true that, in the long run at least, to allow 
 "local patriotism" and local organization to fall 
 into decay and disrepute is to imperil the whole 
 basis on which Society rests. 
 
 It is a commonplace at the present time that local 
 feeling is in decay. Indeed, the constant attempts 
 to discover "revivals" of it and to stimulate it 
 into action serve to show how serious the decay is. 
 Even where local feeling remains strong and vigor- 
 ous, as in many parts of Great Britain it does, it has, 
 nevertheless withdrawn itself largely from the 
 sphere of local government, or local economic 
 administration, and concentrated itself round the 
 less organized and unorganized parts of local life 
 sport, for instance, and sociability in general. This 
 is a perilous situation for the community; for, 
 under right conditions, local feeling ought to express 
 itself not only in these largely personal spheres, 
 but also in all the spheres of organized social 
 administration. 
 
 Regionalism, as I understand it, is primarily an 
 attempt to face this difficulty, and by making local
 
 REGIONALISM 161 
 
 areas real areas, to restore the influence of local 
 spirit upon the work of social administration. It is 
 an attempt to define areas which are at once units 
 of social feeling and, as far as possible, also areas of 
 economic life, and suitable to serve as units for the 
 work of administration. The chief faults of most 
 of the existing areas are two: their unreality as 
 centers of local feelings, and their inadequacy to the 
 work of administration under modern conditions, 
 in relation not only to local transport and other 
 public utility services, but also to public health, 
 education, and most of the other work of local 
 government. 
 
 If these two faults admit of a single remedy, so 
 much the better; and clearly the views of the 
 regionalists and of those who think with them in 
 this matter have every claim to be fully considered 
 by a Society which is admittedly sick and ill at 
 ease with its existing areas. 
 
 But what must strike us at once is the fact that 
 the regionalist proposal may appear in two contrary 
 lights. From one point of view, it appears as a 
 proposal for the drastic enlargement of the present 
 areas of local administration, while from another 
 point of view it appears as a scheme of devolution, 
 or more, designed to reduce the area of administra- 
 tion in respect of many of those matters which are 
 now dealt with centrally by the State. 
 
 Thus, we see that we cannot treat the problem of 
 areas in isolation from the content of their admin- 
 istration from their powers and the questions with 
 which they are concerned. Under the existing, and 
 indeed under any system, some things will be
 
 162 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 administered centrally and some locally. This would 
 be the case also if "regions" were adopted as 
 important units of administration. The problem 
 is thus complex, and involves a combined considera- 
 tion of areas and powers. 
 
 Before we consider this problem directly, it is 
 necessary to point out that the whole question as- 
 sumes rather a different form in a functionally 
 organized Society from that which it has under the 
 existing conditions of local and central government. 
 For the objection that the representative loses 
 touch with, and cannot be controlled by, those 
 whom he represents in a large area, though it still 
 has force, is far less applicable when the function 
 of the representative is clearly defined than where 
 it is vague or general. A functionally organized 
 Society can therefore maintain its democratic 
 character over a larger area than a Society organized 
 on the pattern of State Sovereignty, or, for that 
 matter, than a Society organized on the basis of 
 Marxian industrialism. If it is inconvenient to 
 restrict the size of an area, it may be possible to 
 preserve democracy by restricting the function, and 
 at the same time increasing the number of repre- 
 sentative bodies in the larger area. 
 
 Thus, while it might be dangerous to enlarge the 
 areas of local government in industry and politics 
 under existing conditions, I believe that the "region" 
 would be, for many of the most important purposes, 
 the best area of local government in a functionally 
 organized Society. The unit of local government, 
 to be effective, must be at once small enough to be 
 democratically controlled, and a real unit of social
 
 REGIONALISM 163 
 
 life and feeling. An area which would be too large 
 under a non- functional system might be just the 
 right size for democratic and efficient functional 
 administration. 
 
 But what of Regionalism as a proposal to sub- 
 stitute, for many purposes, the smaller area of the 
 "region" for the larger area of the State or the 
 national economic organization? I believe that 
 this proposal is largely right because, in most cases, 
 the area x of the present-day States is simply too 
 large for effective or democratic organization of 
 most things under any system, however functional. 
 This does not mean that the present State areas 
 have no reality and no use; but only that many 
 matters which are now administered naturally 
 would be better administered over a smaller area. 
 The larger areas those which are larger than the 
 "region" or "province" seem to be marked out 
 as spheres rather of coordinating activity on most 
 questions than of actual executive direction. 
 
 If, as I believe, both economic life and social life 
 generally call for "regional" organization and for 
 the centering in the region of the largest measure of 
 actual executive authority, two groups of questions 
 at once arise. First, what is the proper relation 
 of the economic or political "region" to the larger 
 groups of which it forms a part, and to the smaller 
 groups which form part of it? And secondly, is 
 there any principle which can serve as at least a 
 
 1 Here and elsewhere I use the word "area," not to denote so 
 many square miles, but a complex involving various considera- 
 tions, including the extent, population, economic and general 
 character of the country, psychology of the inhabitants, etc.
 
 164 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 general indication of the respective spheres of the 
 various "sizes" of administrative or governmental 
 unit? 
 
 The first group of questions at once raises the 
 problem of federalism, decentralization, or some 
 other form of allocation of powers. Broadly 
 speaking, there are in operation in different places 
 three different systems, in addition to all manner of 
 variations upon them, of determining the relations 
 between larger and smaller authorities of the same 
 type within a single Society. First, there is feder- 
 alism in the strict sense, under which all authority 
 is finally vested in the smaller bodies severally, and 
 each of these hands over certain definite powers to 
 the larger body, retaining in its own hands all 
 powers not specifically transferred. Secondly, there 
 is decentralisation or centralisation, in which all 
 power is credited originally to the larger body, which 
 doles out with greater or less generosity such powers 
 as it thinks fit to the smaller bodies. English local 
 government, in so far as it rests upon statute law, 
 belongs to this type. Thirdly, there is the form in 
 which the power is originally divided between the 
 larger and the smaller bodies, special powers being 
 reserved to each. This occurs principally in the 
 case of written constitutions, and especially under 
 systems of Dominion Home Rule in the British 
 Empire. Such intermediate systems are generally 
 worded either in federal terms (as in the case of 
 Australia) or in unitary terms (as in the case of 
 Canada) ; but the wording makes little difference to 
 the result. Such mixed systems really constitute a 
 third type.
 
 REGIONALISM 165 
 
 In the sphere of political government, in which 
 alone there is evidence enough to go upon, both 
 constitutions originally federal and constitutions 
 originally unitary tend to approximate as the result 
 of experience of present-day conditions to this 
 third, or mixed, type. The reason is obvious. The 
 relation between larger and smaller bodies of the 
 same kind is increasingly denning itself in terms not 
 of powers alone, but of powers in relation to func- 
 tions. It is for the larger body to fulfill certain 
 functions, and for the smaller bodies to fulfill certain 
 others. The question of local and central government 
 is not, in fact, primarily a question between federal- 
 ism and decentralization, but a question of a right 
 allocation of social functions. 
 
 This is true as regards the ends to be attained 
 and the actual balance to be sought; but it is not 
 true to the same extent of the methods to be used. 
 The methods are, in fact, prescribed by the cir- 
 cumstances. If there exists a large "unitarily" 
 administered area which requires to be broken up 
 for the performance of some of its functions, the 
 method of decentralization will normally be the most 
 convenient method both of breaking it up and of set- 
 ting up new "regional" bodies where they are re- 
 quired. If, on the other hand, it is desired to bind 
 together a number of uncoordinated small bodies 
 into a larger unit, federation is often the easiest in- 
 strument to use, at least in the earlier stages. The 
 method is a matter of temporary expediency, and 
 differing methods are needed in different circum- 
 stances for arriving at the same end. 
 
 Not so with the end itself. Before we can begin
 
 166 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 to think about methods, we must know, as something 
 comparatively fixed and definite, the end to which 
 we desire to attain. We must make up our minds 
 what, for our Society and generation, is the most 
 desirable division of functions between larger and 
 smaller bodies within it, and we must then discover 
 the methods best suited to promote the realization 
 of this object. 
 
 I believe that, in a functionally organized Society, 
 the great bulk of the administrative work, both 
 politically and economically, will best be done 
 "regionally," that is by political and economic 
 bodies intermediate in extent between the national 
 State and the existing local authorities. 1 Were 
 some such principle adopted, and twenty or thirty 
 such areas brought into administrative existence in 
 England, I believe that the functions which would 
 still be best executed by the big natural unit would 
 be chiefly functions of coordination, apart from a 
 few big groups of questions, both economic and 
 political, in which national uniformity of treatment 
 would continue to be essential. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that I am speaking here 
 not of a single national body, the State, and of a 
 single local or rather "regional" body in each 
 "region," but of a number of national functional 
 
 1 The "region," in the sense in which I use the word, is not 
 so large as the "province" contemplated in most schemes of 
 English "Provincial Home Rule," or in plans for a "New 
 Heptarchy" ; but it is considerably larger than most of the ex- 
 isting areas of local government. I believe England could 
 reasonably be divided into, say, twenty or thirty regions, most 
 of which would be real social units and local feeling, and 
 many of which would be also approximately economic units.
 
 REGIONALISM 167 
 
 bodies in the national area, and of a number of 
 regional functional bodies in the "region." The 
 problem has its different aspects that of co- 
 ordinating the working of regional economic bodies 
 on the one hand, and that of coordinating regional 
 political bodies on the other. The problem of 
 coordinating political with economic bodies we 
 have already discussed, and our treatment of that 
 subject in Chapter VIII. holds good of the "region" 
 as well as of the national area. 
 
 If coordination is to be the main function of the 
 national bodies, what is the best method of repre- 
 sentation upon them? There seem to Se, broadly 
 speaking, two possibilities one, the method now 
 adopted for electing Parliaments and many other 
 national bodies, by universal suffrage in geographi- 
 cal constituencies with or without Proportional Rep- 
 resentation, or various other devices for making 
 representation more true or the reverse the other, 
 the method of indirect electing, under which the 
 members of the national bodies are chosen by the 
 bodies of the same kind covering a smaller area, 
 the members of a national assembly by the various 
 regional assemblies of the same kind for example. 
 Where the main duty of a national body is that of 
 coordination within a clearly defined sphere, I am 
 inclined to believe that the second method will be 
 found to be the best. Under a regional system, the 
 direct control of the elector would be over his repre- 
 sentatives on the various functional bodies within the 
 "region," and it would be best for these in turn to 
 control, and where necessary recall, their representa- 
 tives on the various national coordinating bodies.
 
 168 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 I do not, however, desire to suggest that this 
 indirect form of election would necessarily apply 
 to every national body. The method of election 
 that is best varies with the function of the body 
 concerned, and, if a national body exercises large 
 powers of direct administration or government, or 
 deals with matters for which there is no corre- 
 sponding regional body, direct election is obviously 
 available as an alternative. 
 
 It will be seen that, in local as in national affairs, 
 the arguments advanced in this book favor the ad 
 hoc principle. Indeed, they favor it in two ways, 
 by insisting on the need for a clear definition of 
 the function of each representative body, which 
 is the distinguishing mark of an ad hoc authority, 
 and also by insisting on an ad hoc electorate, so that 
 everybody votes for a body in which all are directly 
 concerned, but vocational and other special or 
 selective electorates are adopted in other cases. 
 Provided the functions of the body are clearly de- 
 fined, and the right electorate secured, all the advan- 
 tages lie with the ad hoc body over the omnibus au- 
 thority, which is based upon the fallacious theory of 
 representation which we have already discarded. 
 
 I have laid stress on the importance of the 
 "region" as an administrative and governmental 
 area for political and economic purposes alike. I 
 do not mean by this to imply that it is always 
 necessary, or possible, to adopt exactly the same 
 area as the unit for all the various social functions. 
 Thus, in a particular part of a country, the limit of 
 social feeling may be so clearly marked as to leave 
 no possible doubt as to the proper boundaries for
 
 REGIONALISM 169 
 
 a particular political "region." But, while this is 
 so, it may be quite clear that this political "region" 
 will not do for an economic "region," and the 
 economic boundaries may be no less distinctly, but 
 at the same time differently, defined. In such a 
 case, it will be necessary to adopt different areas for 
 the political and the economic region. It is, how- 
 ever, desirable that the areas of administration 
 for the various functions should coincide wherever 
 possible, in order to make easy cooperation between 
 the various functional bodies within a district. The 
 areas ought to coincide wherever possible, and, 
 where they differ, ought to overlap as little as pos- 
 sible. Thus, where they cannot be made to coincide, 
 it may be possible to make the area of two "regions" 
 dealing with one function coincide with the area of 
 one "region" dealing with another. 
 
 I cannot close this chapter without asserting, with 
 all the vehemence at my command, the vital im- 
 portance to the larger community of the mainte- 
 nance of strong local life and feeling throughout the 
 smaller communities within it. Only if men can 
 learn the social spirit in their daily contact with 
 their neighbors can they hope to be good citizens 
 of the larger community. Cooperation begins at 
 home, and the fact that we often quarrel most 
 fiercely with our nearest friends and neighbors is 
 only a further indication of this truth. For hate, 
 like love, is a thing of the emotions, and it is upon 
 the emotions that the possibility of real human co- 
 operation is based. The local spirit of a commu- 
 nity is the key to its national spirit. 
 
 The existing local bodies mostly fall between two
 
 170 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 stools. They are neither small enough to appeal to 
 the spirit of "neighborliness" nor large enough to 
 form effective units of political or economic admin- 
 istrations, or to appeal to that larger local spirit 
 which characterizes the man of the West Country, 
 or the Lancastrian, or the Yorkshireman. 1 The 
 "region" will be large enough to be efficient and to 
 make this larger appeal. But the smaller appeal 
 will still need to be made, and I believe that the 
 adoption of regional areas would open the way for a 
 revival of very much smaller local areas which, 
 without possessing important administrative func- 
 tions, would act as centers round which the feelings 
 of "neighborliness" could find expression, and also 
 as most valuable organs of criticism through which 
 a fire of praise, blame and advice could be brought 
 to bear upon the representatives on the regional 
 bodies. Such smaller centers of feeling and expres- 
 sion are no less vital to real democracy than the 
 larger bodies upon which, under present conditions, 
 most of the work of administration is bound to 
 fall. 
 
 It should be noted that, throughout this chapter, 
 the treatment of the question of "regionalism" is 
 theoretical and is not conceived in terms of prac- 
 tical proposals for immediate adoption. I am 
 speaking, not of changes which can readily be 
 introduced into Society as it is at present con- 
 stituted, but of the form which local government 
 might reasonably be expected to assume in a 
 functionally organized Society. At present, Society 
 
 1 The County Council is not a unit, but a residuum with the 
 heart cut out of it by the severance of the towns.
 
 REGIONALISM 171 
 
 is largely a battle-ground of opposing social forces, 
 especially in the economic sphere. This fact in- 
 evitably forces upon associations, and above all upon 
 economic associations, a growing concentration 
 upon both sides; for each tries to roll up bigger 
 battalions with which to confront the big battalions 
 of its adversary. Thus, both capitalist associations 
 and Trade Unions tend to an increasing extent to 
 centralize their activities upon at least a national 
 scale, not because the national area is the best area 
 for most forms of economic administration, but be- 
 cause they are less concerned with efficient service 
 than with sectional or "class" aims, and with their 
 mutual struggle. These conditions, making for cen- 
 tralization, are likely to persist as long as the ex- 
 isting diversion of the community into opposing 
 economic classes continues. It is therefore prob- 
 able that most regionalist proposals, especially in 
 their economic aspects, will only become "practical 
 politics" when the existing class-divisions in indus- 
 try have disappeared.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 CHURCHES 
 
 IT is impossible, in any study of social theory 
 which professes to be in any sense compre- 
 hensive, not to deal directly with the place of 
 religious associations in Society. The old quarrel 
 of Church and State may belong mainly to the past, 
 and may have ceased, in this country at least, to 
 affect profoundly the whole social order; but the 
 place of Churches in modern Society is by no means 
 settled, and, apart from this controversy, Churches 
 occupy a position of essential importance in the 
 Society of to-day. Not only is the Roman Inter- 
 national still with us: the Church of England and 
 the "Free Churches" of this country have been in 
 our own day centers of important social controversy, 
 and, as we saw in our first chapter, 1 sources from 
 which new conceptions of the functional organiza- 
 tion of Society have flowed. 
 
 In the past, and especially in the Middle Ages, 
 the controversy between Church and State centered 
 mainly round the question of temporal power a 
 controversy dependent upon the papal claim to a 
 vice-regency of God over all the Societies of Chris- 
 tendom. To-day, the controversy is not in the main 
 
 *See p. 10. 
 172
 
 CHURCHES 173 
 
 about temporal power, but about the relations 
 which should exist between Church and State in 
 the sphere of spiritual power. Thus, the Estab- 
 lishment, regarded by its adherents as a recognition 
 by the State of the spiritual mission and social 
 function of the Church, is in fact also an instrument 
 of State supremacy over the Church, a means where- 
 by the temporal power of the State, often wielded 
 now by persons who are not Churchmen, takes into 
 its hand the appointment of spiritual leaders. In 
 return for a doubtful gain in status, the Established 
 Church surrenders a precious part of its autonomy 
 a position which only continues because the Es- 
 tablishment now does no particular harm to per- 
 sons who are not Churchmen, while Churchmen 
 cling to it either from a sense that it confers or 
 recognizes status, or from less worthy economic 
 motives. Thus, the growing "Life and Liberty 
 Movement" in the Church of England recognizes 
 to the full the need for spiritual autonomy, but still 
 clings to Establishment, which, under the conditions 
 of to-day, cannot be made consistent with autonomy. 
 In so far as "establishment" is to be regarded as 
 a social recognition of the mission of the "estab- 
 lished" body, it appears to be quite logical where, 
 and as long as, the vast majority of the people owe 
 allegiance to a single Church. It is logical in such 
 circumstances, because the Church cannot concern 
 itself solely with purely "private" concerns, but must 
 also, if it is to have a mission at all, concern itself 
 intimately and constantly with men's social and as- 
 sociative existence. Its rules and precepts of con- 
 duct, if they apply at all, must apply not only to
 
 174. SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 men's private and personal doings, but also to their 
 social doings and to the doings of the associations of 
 which they are members. No Church which claims 
 to have any influence upon conduct can be merely 
 "other-worldly": indeed, it can only be effectively 
 "other-worldly" in proportion as it occupies itself 
 with the things of this world. 
 
 This social character of Churches, implicit in their 
 very nature and explicit wherever they have any 
 real hold upon the people, carries with it the right 
 to the recognition of Churches as an integral part of 
 the structure of Society, wherever a considerable 
 proportion of the people is concerned with them. 
 But "establishment" has so far meant the exclu- 
 sive recognition of the social character of a single 
 Church within a single territory, whether or not 
 it is the only Church or the Church which is gener- 
 ally accepted by the people. If, however, the right 
 to recognition depends upon the social character of 
 Churches, that right extends to all Churches which 
 possess this character. The functional principle im- 
 plies the recognition of all Churches on a basis of 
 equality. 
 
 Here, however, an immediate difficulty confronts 
 us. The social recognition of the Miners' Federa- 
 tion or of the Edinburgh School Board does not 
 preclude the social recognition of the National 
 Union of Railwaymen or the School Board of 
 Dundee. Indeed, it even implies it; for the func- 
 tions of various industries and of various local au- 
 thorities are complementary, and form a basis for 
 cooperation and the creation of joint and federal 
 bodies where they are required for the functioning
 
 CHURCHES 175 
 
 and social recognition of any particular form of 
 association. Churches, on the other hand, despite 
 attempts at "Reunion All Round" are not pro- 
 fessedly complementary and do not naturally co- 
 here; for almost every one of them professes, and 
 must be taken as believing itself, to be the only true 
 Church. 
 
 The problem of "recognition," then, is not so 
 simple in the case of Churches as in the case of those 
 forms of association which cohere naturally, because 
 they recognize at once the complementary character 
 of their social functions. 
 
 What, then, is the right of Churches to recogni- 
 tion to mean in practice in a functionally organized 
 Society? Or, in other words, what is the right 
 relation of Churches in such a Society not merely 
 to the State, but to the various essential forms of 
 association and to the bodies which exist to coordi- 
 nate their work? 
 
 We cannot hope to answer this question until we 
 have studied more carefully the nature of the Church 
 as a form of human association. As soon as we do 
 this, its essential difference from the other forms of 
 association which we have been mainly considering 
 becomes at once manifest. The "functions" of 
 which we have been speaking throughout this book 
 we have again and again interpreted as meaning 
 "getting something done," that is, producing ma- 
 terial results external to the persons who are mem- 
 bers of the associations. I do not mean that 
 Churches never aim at material results, any more 
 than I mean that political and economic associa- 
 tions have no spiritual aspects, or aim at results
 
 176 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 that are merely material. But I do mean that the 
 direct objects of political and economic association 
 are primarily material, whereas the direct objects 
 of Churches are primarily spiritual. 
 
 This fact can perhaps be stated more clearly in 
 another way. The distinction between political and 
 economic association is that they have different jobs 
 to do, and work upon different subject-matters. 
 But Churches must concern themselves with the 
 subject-matter of both political and economic asso- 
 ciations, as well as with many matters which fall 
 outside their sphere. The distinction between 
 Churches and these other forms of association lies, 
 then, not in the subject-matter with which they 
 deal, but in their different ways of approaching it. 
 They are concerned with producing a material re- 
 sult, and Churches are also concerned in producing 
 this result; but with political and economic associa- 
 tions the result is primary, while with Churches it is 
 secondary and derivative. The primary concern of 
 Churches, as social associations, is to make their 
 conception of the Spirit of God manifest and real 
 upon earth. 
 
 The appeal, then, of Churches is different, and the 
 form of social power proper to them is different. 
 The power of political and economic associations is 
 a material power, exercisable in the last resort upon 
 the bodies of the members : the power of Churches 
 is or ought to be a spiritual power, exercisable upon 
 the mind and not upon the body. 
 
 If this is so, it follows that Churches can form no 
 part of the coordinating body in Society, in so far 
 as this body is concerned with material forms of
 
 CHURCHES 177 
 
 coercion. Material coercion, despite the rack and 
 the stake, is no business of Churches. May the time 
 come when it will cease to be the business of Society 
 in any aspect. 
 
 Our problem now reappears as a problem of the 
 relation of spiritual to material power. And we 
 arrive at once at the result that these two forms of 
 power possess no organizable relation. If there is 
 to be an organized relation between Churches and 
 the other forms of association of which we have 
 been speaking, it can arise only in two cases, where 
 the Churches are directly concerned with material 
 things and where their other associations are di- 
 rectly concerned with spiritual things. 
 
 In fact, the proper relation of Churches to politi- 
 cal and economic forms of association is essentially 
 one of cooperation without formal coordination. 
 Churches cannot, without sacrificing their essentially 
 spiritual character, enter into, or become a part of, 
 the coordinating structure of Society dealt with in 
 Chapter VIII. But they can, on many issues, fruit- 
 fully cooperate with other associations. An in- 
 stance is the civil recognition of religious marriages 
 which exist to-day. Cooperation is essential: co- 
 ordination a distortion of the character both of 
 Churches and of the bodies with which the coordi- 
 nation is made. 
 
 This separation of Church and State is in no sense 
 either an isolation of the Churches or a derogation 
 from their social character. It is not an isolation, 
 because the need for full cooperation remains : it is 
 not a derogation, because it is the very fact that the 
 Church any real Church is a universitas in itself
 
 178 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 that makes coordination impossible. Full liberty of 
 religious association and observance is therefore not 
 the sole necessity: full self-government for every 
 Church and complete freedom from interference 
 with its management, appointments, doctrines and 
 spiritual conduct is also implied. Only through 
 such separation can Churches be freed for the at- 
 tainment of the fullest liberty and the proper per- 
 formance of their spiritual function. Political and 
 economic associations must make their laws and 
 Churches theirs. They may differ and even be con- 
 tradictory; but they cannot conflict because they 
 are on different planes, and, where they are con- 
 tradictory, it is for the individual to choose his 
 allegiance. History proves that he will often prefer 
 a material penalty to a spiritual reprobation. 
 
 Nothing that has been said in this chapter is 
 meant to suggest that the organized Churches pos- 
 sess a monopoly of the spiritual function, or that 
 they are the sole depositories of spiritual wisdom. 
 As in other spheres, the individual is the ultimate 
 depository of spiritual wisdom and unwisdom, and 
 only a part of his "wisdom" is susceptible of organi- 
 zation. The existence of Churches is only one of 
 the objective symbols of the truth that every ma- 
 terial thing and purpose is also spiritual, and their 
 separate existence does not derogate from, but 
 serves to emphasize, the spiritual as well as material 
 character of other associations. As in man, so in 
 Society and in the community, the spiritual and ma- 
 terial "universes" exist side by side, related in a re- 
 lation which, fundamental and necessary as it is, is 
 no easier to explain in the one case than in the other.
 
 CHURCHES 179 
 
 Much that is spiritual escapes the organizing influ- 
 ence of all the Churches, as much that is material 
 escapes the organizing of political, economic and 
 other primarily material forms of association ; in the 
 spiritual, as in every other sphere, the individual 
 remains as the ultimate reality in which all associa- 
 tion is built, but whom association can never ex- 
 haust or completely express.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LIBERTY 
 
 THIS book has throughout dealt mainly with 
 the functions and interrelation of associations 
 within the community, with the nature of as- 
 sociation, and with its various forms and motives, 
 with the problems arising out of the actual work- 
 ing of associations, and so on. In short, it has been 
 mainly a book about organized Society, and has 
 only dealt incidentally and in passing with those 
 aspects of community which fall outside the sphere 
 of organized Society. 
 
 This, however, does not absolve us from the ne- 
 cessity of dealing, from our own standpoint, with 
 the problem which has presented the greatest dif- 
 ficulty of all to every social theorist the problem of 
 the relation of the individual to Society, and of the 
 place of individual liberty in the community. 
 
 The problem does not, indeed, assume for us the 
 form which it assumed for Herbert Spencer, the 
 form simply expressed in the phrase "the Man ver- 
 sus the State" ; but neither can we be content with 
 P the simple identification of liberty with law to which 
 some theorists of an opposite school have all too 
 willingly approximated. The question for us is one, 
 
 first, of the relative spheres of social and individual 
 o 
 
 180
 
 LIBERTY 181 
 
 action, and secondly, one of the relation of the in- 
 dividual to the various associations of which he is 
 a member, or which claim in Society a jurisdiction 
 which affects his interests. 
 
 This forces upon us some attempt to define liberty, 
 as it appears in Society and in the community. And 
 here the first thing we have to do is to get clear 
 in our minds a distinction between two senses in 
 which the word is used liberty attaching to the 
 individual qua individual, and liberty attaching to 
 associations and institutions with which the indi- 
 vidual is concerned. This is not the familiar dis- 
 tinction between "civil" and "political," or even 
 "social," liberty as it is ordinarily drawn; for a 
 liberty attaching to the individual qua individual 
 may be political or economic in its content as well as 
 civil. It is a distinction, not in the content of the 
 liberty, but in its form of expression, between the 
 liberty of personal freedom and the liberty of free 
 and self-governing association. 
 
 It has often been pointed out that, if every in- 
 dividual is left absolutely free and unrestricted, the 
 result, taken as a whole, is not liberty but anarchy. 
 Nominally free, in such circumstances, the individual 
 has really no freedom because he has no security 
 or safeguard, and no certainty of the way in which 
 other people will behave towards him. But it is 
 no less true that, even if a community possesses a 
 complete and all-pervading system of free and self- 
 governing association, the individual is not neces- 
 sarily any more free, because the associations may 
 so trammel his liberty as to leave him no range for 
 free choice or personal self-expression. In other
 
 182 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 words, "free" institutions do not necessarily carry 
 with them personal liberty, any more than personal 
 "unrestrainedness" can by itself secure real per- 
 sonal freedom. The two manifestations of liberty 
 are complementary, and neither of them can be 
 complete, or even real, without the other. 
 
 It will be noticed that in the last paragraph there 
 was not an exact parallel between our two cases. 
 I did not say that, whereas personal "unrestrained- 
 ness" could not guarantee personal freedom, neither 
 could the unrestrained freedom of associations guar- 
 antee the real liberty of associations. In both cases, 
 the end in view was the liberty of the individual; 
 for, in the last resort, the word "liberty" has no 
 meaning except in reference to the individual. We 
 may speak, if we will, of a "free country" or a 
 "free Church" ; but in both cases we mean a freedom 
 which belongs to the individuals who are members 
 of the body or community concerned. 
 
 Here we are compelled to draw a further distinc- 
 tion. The idea of liberty directly applying to the 
 individual qua individual is a simple idea, and does 
 mean simply "being let alone," with only the quali- 
 fication that this "being let alone" is an abstrac- 
 tion unless and until it is brought into relation to 
 the other kind of liberty, and regarded as comple- 
 mentary with it. But the idea of social liberty, or 
 liberty as attaching directly to associations, is a 
 complex idea, and includes two distinguishable ele- 
 ments. It implies first the freedom of the associa- 
 tion from external dictation in respect of its manner 
 of performing its function, and it implies equally 
 the internal self-government and democratic char-
 
 LIBERTY 183 
 
 acter of the association itself. Thus, when we 
 speak of a "free State," we mean both a State which 
 is not subject to any other State, and a State which 
 is democratically governed. Personal liberty is thus 
 simple and external; social liberty dual, and both 
 external and internal. 
 
 This difference arises, of course, from the fact 
 that, qua individual, the individual directly trans- 
 lates his will into deed, without the need for an in- 
 tervening organization, whereas the individual can 
 only act socially through an association or interme- 
 diary, so that the need arises for a second type of 
 social liberty, the equivalent of which is directly 
 guaranteed to us as individuals by our possession of 
 free will. 1 
 
 Of social liberty, or the liberty of associations, it 
 is not necessary to add much to what has already 
 been said. The internal liberty of associations con- 
 sists in their democratic character, and in the truly 
 representative character of their forms of govern- 
 ment and administration. Their external liberty 
 consists in their freedom from interference from 
 outside in the performance of their functions. The 
 point which I have thus emphasized twice by the 
 use of italics is of the first importance. The exter- 
 nal liberty of an association consists not in its free- 
 dom from all interference from outside, but in its 
 freedom in relation to its function. Such interfer- 
 ence as is necessary to coordinate its function with 
 
 1 It will, of course, be seen that I am here refraining from 
 entering into the oldest ethical controversy in the world. In 
 such an ethical theory as that of Kant, personal freedom of 
 course has its internal character of self-determination as well 
 as the external character of "unrestrainedness."
 
 184 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 those of other associations is not a diminution of 
 freedom, and interference arising from a departure 
 by the association from its function is still less so; 
 for the association exists for the performance of 
 its function and for nothing else, and, as soon as 
 it steps outside its function, its rights lapse be- 
 cause it ceases to possess to its members a true rep- 
 resentative relation. 1 
 
 Personal liberty also is so simple an idea in itself 
 as to need no detailed separate treatment. It is sim- 
 ply the freedom of the individual to express with- 
 out external hindrance his "personality" his likes 
 and dislikes, desires and aversions, hopes and fears, 
 his sense of right and wrong, beauty and ugliness, 
 and so on. 
 
 But to treat these two forms of liberty separately 
 leads us nowhere. They acquire a real meaning only 
 when they are brought into relation and when their 
 complementary character is fully revealed. Until 
 that is done they remain abstractions. 
 
 Let us remember above all that liberty as a whole 
 has a meaning only in relation to the individual. 
 Society and the community itself have no meaning 
 apart from the individuals composing them, and to 
 treat them as "ends in themselves" is to fall into 
 an error which vitiates every conclusion based upon 
 it. When, therefore, we seek to bring personal and 
 social liberty into a complementary relation, what 
 we are all really doing is to seek that relation be- 
 
 1 This statement must be taken in connection with the re- 
 marks on "perversion of function" in Chapter III. ; for where 
 perversion in one case causes perversion in another the asso- 
 ciation may acquire a secondary "counter-perversionary" 
 function which upholds its representative relation.
 
 LIBERTY 185 
 
 tween them which will secure the greatest liberty for 
 all the individuals in a community, both severally 
 and in association. It is not a question of striking 
 a balance between the claims and counter-claims of 
 the individual and of Society, but of determining 
 what amount of organization and what absence of 
 organization will secure to the individual the great- 
 est liberty as the result of a blending of personal 
 and social liberties. 
 
 First of all, it is necessary to rid ourselves once 
 and for all of the notion that organization is in itself 
 a good thing. It is very easy to fall into the notion 
 that growing complexity is a sign of progress, and 
 that the expanding organization of Society is a sign 
 of the coming of the Cooperative Commonwealth. 
 A constantly growing measure of cooperation 
 among men is no doubt the greatest social need of 
 our day ; but cooperation has its unorganized as well 
 as its organized forms, and certainly the unorgan- 
 ized cooperation of men, based on a sheer feeling of 
 community, is not less valuable than organized co- 
 operation, which may or may not have this feeling of 
 community behind it. It is easier to do most things 
 with organization than without ; but organization is 
 to a great extent only the scaffolding without which 
 we should find the temple of human cooperation too 
 difficult to build. 
 
 To say this is not to decry organization : it is only 
 to refrain from worshiping it. Organization is a 
 marvelous instrument through which we every day 
 accomplish all manner of achievements which would 
 be inconceivable without it: but it is none the less 
 better to do a thing without organization if we can,
 
 186 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 or with the minimum of organization that is neces- 
 sary. For all organization, as we have seen, neces- 
 sarily carries with it an irreducible minimum of 
 distortion of human purpose : it always comes down, 
 to some extent, to letting other people do things 
 for us instead of doing them ourselves, to allow- 
 ing, in some measures, the wills of "representatives" 
 to be substituted for our own wills. Thus while it 
 makes possible in one way a vast expansion of the 
 field of self-expression that is open to the individual, 
 it also in another way distorts that expression 
 and makes it not completely the individual's 
 own. 
 
 In complex modern communities there are so 
 many things that must be organized that it becomes 
 more than ever important to preserve from organi- 
 zation that sphere in which it adds least to, and is 
 apt to detract most from, our field of self-expres- 
 sion the sphere of personal relationships and per- 
 sonal conduct. Legislation in recent times has tend- 
 ed more and more to encroach upon this sphere, not 
 so much directly as by indirect roads, and especially 
 owing to the operation of economic causes. Those 
 measures of organization and social coercion which 
 trench upon the personal liberty of the individual 
 or of the family are almost all directly traceable to 
 economic causes, and fundamentally, to the existence 
 of economic inequality in the community. They 
 are the repercussions of the maldistribution of 
 property and income upon the personal lives of the 
 poorer sections of the community. Given even an 
 approximate economic equality, there would be no 
 need for them.
 
 LIBERTY 187 
 
 This is a sign of the manner in which bad organi- 
 zation, or lack of free organization of a particular 
 socfal function, at once causes perversion in other 
 spheres, not only by causing one association to usurp 
 the function of another, but by causing organization 
 to take place, and compulsion to be applied, where 
 personal liberty ought most to be preserved. The first 
 necessity for concrete liberty for the individual lies 
 in proper free functional organization of those 
 things which cannot be done without association. 
 This alone makes it possible to leave untouched 
 those spheres of human action which are spoiled 
 by organization. 
 
 This argument can be stated more particularly 
 in another way. Economic equality is essential to 
 personal freedom in the sphere of personal and 
 family relations. But free, or democratic, functional 
 organization in the economic sphere is essential to 
 the maintenance of economic equality. Therefore 
 free economic organization is essential to personal 
 liberty in the sphere of personal relations. 
 
 But the individual will rightly refuse to be content 
 with a personal liberty which is confined to the 
 sphere of personal relations. Such liberty is vital 
 to him ; but it is also vital to him to be personally 
 free in his associative relations, that is, in relation 
 to the associations of which he is a member, or 
 which affect him by their operations. In relation to 
 the associations of which he is a member, he will de- 
 mand social freedom, that is, a right to a full share 
 in their government and control. But this will not 
 suffice for him. In addition to this social freedom 
 which he and his fellows will claim to enjoy in rela-
 
 188 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 tion to the associations to which they belong, each 
 of them severally will claim personal liberty in the 
 sense of freedom from being tyrannized over even 
 by an association in whose decisions he has a 
 voice and vote. What safeguard can there be 
 for personal freedom in relation to associations, 
 that is, what safeguard against the tyranny of 
 majorities? 
 
 It is folly to attempt, as some theorists do, to 
 answer this argument by a blank denial of the pos- 
 sibility of such tyranny. A majority can be just as 
 tyrannical as a minority. A decision does not be- 
 come my personal decision by the fact that it is 
 carried against my vote in an association of which 
 I am a member. There is no "paradox" of self- 
 government in this sense, no social miracle by which 
 my will can be transmuted into its direct opposite 
 by the operation of democracy. It is not my real 
 will to carry out every decision of a majority of an 
 association to which I happen to belong, however 
 silly or wrong I may believe it to be. 
 
 In most forms of social theory, this problem 
 assumes a false and misleading aspect by being con- 
 fined to my relations to one particular form of 
 association. The State is first assumed to be an alto- 
 gether superior kind of association or super-asso- 
 ciation, quite different from all the other associa- 
 tions to which a man may belong. It is then 
 assumed that he stands in quite a different relation 
 to the State from his relation to any other associa- 
 tion. And, whereas no one in his senses would 
 believe that it is my real will to carry out all the 
 decisions of my cricket club, without questioning,
 
 LIBERTY 189 
 
 men can be brought to think of the State so as 
 to say : 
 
 "Theirs not to reason why: 
 Theirs but to do and die." 
 
 If our analysis of the nature of association and 
 our account of the nature of the State as merely 
 one form of association are correct, it is "theirs to 
 reason why" either in relation to all associations 
 or to none. We may be prepared to stretch more 
 points in favor of accepting a decision of the State 
 than of the cricket club, because we regard the 
 maintenance of the State as more important; but, 
 if we reason at all, we must apply our reason to the 
 decrees of State as well as to those of other associa- 
 tions. A difference of degree may remain; but the 
 difference in kind has disappeared. 
 
 According, therefore, to the social theory ad- 
 vanced in this book, a man owes not one absolute so- 
 cial loyalty and other subordinate loyalties which 
 must always, in case of need, be overridden by it, 
 but a number of relative and limited loyalties, of 
 varying importance and intensity, but not essentially 
 differing in kind. If this is so, and if the associa- 
 tion to which we owe our ultimate loyalty is not 
 externally determined for us by the character of the 
 association itself, it follows that the choice of ulti- 
 mate loyalty, in a case where loyalties conflict, nec- 
 essarily resides in the individual himself. 
 
 It is true that the functional Society which we 
 envisage includes in its structure forms of co- 
 ordination and, in the last resort, coercion. Thus, 
 in making his choice of loyalties, the individual can-
 
 190 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 not choose without incurring a risk of penalty, and 
 does not escape altogether from the possibility of 
 being coerced. That, however, is not the immedi- 
 ate point which I have in mind, though I shall be 
 dealing with it before this chapter has grown much 
 longer. The immediate point is that of the moral 
 and not of the physical, or coercive, obligation upon 
 the individual, and a great moral victory is won for 
 individual liberty by the successful assertion of the 
 individual's ultimate and unassailable moral right 
 to choose for himself among conflicting social royal- 
 ties. Even if Society punishes him for choosing 
 in a manner contrary to that prescribed by its co- 
 ordinating organization, it has no right to blame 
 him or call him "traitor" merely because his choice 
 is contrary to the social precept. It is his business 
 how he cliooses, even if the consequences are still 
 a sphere for social definition. 1 
 
 Moral immunity, however, may seem to afford 
 but cold comfort. What most people will want to 
 know is how the individual would be practically 
 situated if, in a case of conflict of loyalties, his 
 decision ran counter to that of the coordinating 
 organization of Society. I believe that the position 
 of the individual would be greatly more favorable 
 than it is, or can be, under State Sovereignty or 
 any unitary form of Sovereignty, or, in other words, 
 than it can be under any system in which the su- 
 preme social authority is vested in a single body or 
 association. In this case at least, there is "safety in 
 
 1 Definition before the event, of course. The objection to 
 the retrospective creation of offenses holds good all the more 
 if this view is accepted.
 
 LIBERTY 191 
 
 numbers," and hope for the individual in the balance 
 of functional associations in Society. Unitary the- 
 ories of Sovereignty, or the existence in fact of 
 Societies in which one association is supreme, are 
 invitations to tyranny, because they are based upon 
 the inclusion of all the individuals in a single or- 
 ganization. If the Sovereign State is the represen- 
 tative of everybody, the individual is manifestly 
 less than the Sovereign State which claims, by virtue 
 of its superiority, a right to do with and to him 
 what it pleases in the interests of all or the whole, 
 bien entendu. 
 
 But, under a functional system, each individual 
 is a member of many associations, and each has 
 upon him only a limited claim limited by its so- 
 cial function. The position of the individual as the 
 source and sustaining spirit of every association is 
 therefore clear, and the associations show plainly as 
 only partial expressions and extensions of the will 
 of the individual. They have thus no superiority 
 over him, and their claim is limited to what he 
 surrenders to them for the performance of their 
 functions. 
 
 Will not a Society based upon these principles be 
 likely to be far less prone to tyranny than any other 
 sort of Society? It must be remembered that the 
 functional character of all its associations will make 
 them far more truly representative, and therefore 
 far more likely to sustain the will to liberty among 
 their members. The best guarantee of personal 
 liberty that can exist is in the existence, in each 
 form of association, of an alert democracy, keenly 
 critical of every attempt of the elected person and
 
 192 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 the official to pass beyond his representative func- 
 tion. In a Society made up of a multiplicity of 
 such associations, there would be less reason than in 
 any other that is practically possible for the emer- 
 gence of tyranny and the submergence of personal 
 liberty beneath the weight of social organization. 
 The safeguards are not absolute; but they are as 
 good as we can hope for at present. The func- 
 tional organization of Society contains in itself the 
 guarantee of the recognition of the fact that Society 
 is based upon the individuals, exists in and for the 
 individuals, and can never transcend the wills of the 
 individuals who compose it.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS 
 
 THERE is always a danger attendant upon theo- 
 retical studies of presenting as static and at 
 rest what is essentially dynamic and in mo- 
 tion. This risk is peculiarly great in the domain of 
 social theory; for it is difficult to refrain from hard- 
 ening universal principles, or principles which at 
 least seem to be universal, into precepts, and from 
 claiming the same universality for the precept as 
 for the principle, Utopias are almost always un- 
 satisfactory, because they almost always depict a 
 community from which factors of vital change and 
 development have been eliminated. 
 
 It is therefore of the first importance that we 
 should remember that neither the human wills 
 which make Societies and communities, nor the ma- 
 terial circumstances upon which these wills work, 
 have any but a relative degree of permanence. Ma- 
 terial circumstances alter, and their alteration com- 
 pels men to adopt new methods of living and work- 
 ing together. And on the other hand, men's desires 
 and aspirations change, and they seek different 
 methods of cooperation from time to time and 
 from place to place, even if the material conditions 
 remain the same. 
 
 193
 
 194. SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 There is, as we have seen, a strong element of 
 artifice about all forms of social organization. As- 
 sociations are designed, more or less deliberately, 
 for the fulfillment of certain purposes. Even cus- 
 toms, which seem the most unconscious things, are 
 for the most part only purposes become ''mechani- 
 cal" by force of long habit. If will is the basis of 
 Society, habit is certainly the cement which holds 
 its structure together. 
 
 This "force of habit," which is so powerful a 
 factor in the working of Societies, as well as in the 
 unorganized social life of communities, has two con- 
 trasted aspects. It helps men to live together in 
 Societies and communities without pushing their 
 constant disagreements to the point of open con- 
 flict; for men will tolerate calmly an evil (in their 
 eyes) to which they are accustomed, whereas they 
 would fiercely resent and resist its introduction. The 
 influence of habit, thus checking the desire for re- 
 organization and change, causes changes for the 
 most part to take place gradually without any pro- 
 found disturbance of the life of the community, or 
 of the structure of the Society within it. 
 
 This is the good side of habit, without which the 
 stable existence of Society, and even of the com- 
 munity itself, would be difficult, if not impossible. 
 But habit has another side, and here its operations 
 are by no means an unmixed blessing. It not only 
 offers resistance to changes which would imperil 
 the stability of Society, but often to changes which 
 are necessary for its preservation and development. 
 It not only prevents the primitive destruction of 
 associations or institutions or customs which incur
 
 THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS 195 
 
 a temporary unpopularity, but helps to preserve as- 
 sociations or institutions or customs which have lost 
 all social utility, or which are actively retarding the 
 processes of social development. 
 
 Even an individual, when he "changes his mind," 
 by casting off an old belief, or prejudice, or fruit 
 of bad reasoning, does not usually do so by a quite 
 sudden and simple act of conversion. He ordina- 
 rily passes through a period of doubt, and, if the 
 belief which is being discarded has with it a strong 
 force of custom or habit, he will often continue to 
 act on the old belief until the long process of con- 
 version is absolutely complete, and even after it is 
 complete when his will is not vigilant to prevent 
 him from doing so. Far more is this the case with 
 social changes. Associations, institutions and cus- 
 toms continue apparently in full force, not only 
 while the faith of men in their social utility is 
 passing away, but even long after it has passed 
 away. So strong is the social force of habit, not 
 only upon the individual, but still more upon crowds, 
 organized groups and communities. 
 
 It is therefore a phenomenon found in almost 
 every community at almost every stage of its de- 
 velopment that, side by side with fully-grown asso- 
 ciations, institutions and customs, and with such 
 as are beginning to grow and to achieve recognition, 
 there exist other associations, institutions and cus- 
 toms which have lost their savor and social utility, 
 or, to use a convenient phrase, have become atro- 
 phied. Moreover, it will often be found that these 
 atrophied social phenomena occupy, at any rate con- 
 ventionally, the highest place in social honor, and
 
 196 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 appear on the surface as integral parts of the struc- 
 ture of Society and necessary bonds of commu- 
 nity. 
 
 Samuel Butler, who has stated far better than 
 any one else the social force and character of habit 
 and "unconscious memory," made, in his Erewhon 
 novels, the best existing study of this phenomenon 
 of atrophy. The "Musical Banks" of Erewhon, 
 whatever their application to our own Society, form 
 the best possible example of an atrophied insti- 
 tution, and the worship of the goddess "Ydgrun" 
 more familiarly known in this country as Mrs. 
 Grundy expresses the power of habit over us 
 which causes such survivals. There are, no doubt, 
 extreme cases; but any one can think of instances 
 in which the social status of a firmly and long-es- 
 tablished institution is out of all proportion to its 
 surviving social utility. 
 
 This phenomenon of survival of the "shell" when 
 the function has passed from it occurs principally 
 in the case of those social forms which we decided 
 to call "institutions." 1 It will be remembered that 
 we there defined an institution as "an idea which 
 is manifested concretely in some aspect of social 
 conduct, and which forms a part of the underlying 
 assumptions of communal life." We also said that 
 it may be manifested either "in men's personal con- 
 duct or relationships or through organized groups 
 or associations." 
 
 An institution, then, may be embodied in an as- 
 sociation; but neither are all institutions embodied 
 in associations, nor do all associations embody 
 1 See Chapter II., pp. 41 ff.
 
 THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS 197 
 
 institutions. An institution is a social form, whether 
 it be embodied in an association, or a custom or 
 something else, which has behind it a strong "force 
 of habit" based upon a historic importance of func- 
 tion. There are thus two elements which go to the 
 conferring of institutional status. An idea only 
 acquires the status of an institution by perform- 
 ing over a considerable period of time an essen- 
 tial social function, and thus becoming important 
 to men's habits as well as to their reasons; but, 
 this status once acquired, habit will usually out- 
 last reason, and maintain the institution in being 
 and in enjoyment of status after its function has 
 ceased to exist or be socially important. 
 
 I have said that an association may embody, or 
 enjoy the status of, an institution, and in the second 
 chapter I instanced States and Churches as examples 
 of this. As we saw in Chapter II., an association 
 is not an institution, but it may become the embodi- 
 ment or social expression of an institution. Strictly 
 speaking, it is not "the State" that is an institu- 
 tion, but social order, of which the State is regarded, 
 on the score of certain 'past services, as the embodi- 
 ment not "the Church," but the Spirit of God on 
 earth, which the Church with its apostolic tradition 
 is regarded as expressing. An institution is always 
 at bottom an idea, a belief or a commandment, 
 and never an actual thing. It attaches itself to 
 things, but it is not identical with things. 
 
 This difference has to be brought out in order to 
 explain fully how we manage at all to rid ourselves 
 of atrophied institutions, or, as we should now say, 
 atrophied expressions of institutions. Where the
 
 198 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 idea or belief itself, that is to say the institution 
 itself becomes atrophied, the force of habit finally 
 dies out, and the institution passes away, perhaps 
 long after the usefulness has been outlived. But 
 where the idea or belief remains vital, but the as- 
 sociation or law or custom in which it is em- 
 bodied ceases, under altered conditions, truly to ex- 
 press it, there, failing the adaptation of the associa- 
 tion, law or custom, the idea which is the real 
 "soul" of the institution transfers itself to some 
 other law or custom, and the old "body" of the 
 institution decays and finally disappears. In this 
 case, too, there is probably a long period during 
 which, though the soul has departed from it, the 
 body of the institution continues apparently to flour- 
 ish, and retains its social status to all outward seem- 
 ing unimpaired. 1 
 
 In our treatment of associations, we dwelt on 
 the fact that often, in the history of Societies, the 
 same function passes at different periods from one 
 association to another. Thus, industry passed from 
 the Medieval Guilds to the capitalist employer, and 
 is now passing, at least in part, into the control 
 of the Trade Unions. But some Medieval Guilds 
 still linger on in the atrophied form of Livery Com- 
 panies, and, when Capitalism has ceased to exist, 
 certainly if there is no violent revolution, and prob- 
 ably even if there is, atrophied survivals of capital- 
 ist association will continue in existence. 
 
 1 Foreign observers often mistake such atrophied bodies 
 of institutions for the real soul of a people. The pre- 
 revolutionary legend of Russia, as told for example by 
 Mr. Stephen Graham, furnishes a good example.
 
 THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS 199 
 
 In the sphere of social organization, it is pro- 
 foundly true that 
 
 "Each age is a dream that is dying. 
 And one that is coming to birth." 
 
 For the associations, customs, laws and conven- 
 tions among which we live are a queer mixture of 
 obsolete and obsolescent survivals from the past, 
 with other social forms "in the prime of life," and 
 yet others which are only beginning to assume the 
 true social shape of their maturity. The social 
 prophet is not he who builds Utopias out of his own 
 imagination, but he who can see in these rising as- 
 sociations, in these laws which are "precedents," 
 and in these forming habits the signs of the future, 
 and can rightly say whither they are tending or 
 what social functions they can be made to serve. 
 The soundest part of the Marxian philosophy is that 
 which inculcates the lesson that the structure of a 
 new social order must be built up within the old 
 while it is still in being, and that the face of Society 
 can only be changed when new associations and 
 ways of life have been created within the fabric of 
 the old in readiness to take its place. 
 
 It is true that this doctrine appears in Marxism 
 coupled with the deadening determinism which viti- 
 ates the whole system. The appearance of the new 
 forms within the old is made to appear as some- 
 thing inevitable, and not as the product of will 
 and effort. Even as we followed Samuel Butler in 
 applying to social theory his doctrine of habit, we 
 may follow him here in applying his doctrine of 
 evolution. Let us be, as he would have said, La-
 
 200 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 marckians rather than Darwinians in our theory 
 of social development. We need not deny or mini- 
 mize the vast influence of material conditions in 
 causing social changes and directing the course of 
 social development ; but we can still believe that the 
 creation of new social forms for old, and still more 
 the right direction and utilization of those new so- 
 cial forms which arise out of changing material 
 conditions, is a matter which human wills can in- 
 fluence and which indeed depend essentially upon 
 men's active will to take advantage of their oppor- 
 tunities.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 THE foregoing chapters embody an attempt to 
 state, in the smallest possible compass, the 
 essential principles of social organization. 
 Their primary concern has been not with the ac- 
 tual associations which exist in the community, nor 
 with any attempt at classifying the various forms 
 of association, but with the moral and psychologi- 
 cal problems underlying social organization in its 
 actual and possible forms among men and in com- 
 munities like our own. This limitation is neces- 
 sary, because it may be that there are peoples and 
 communities so different from our own that the 
 generalizations which we make for ourselves out 
 of our own experience simply do not apply to them, 
 or apply only with changes so fundamental as to be 
 incalculable by us. In Western Europe, the con- 
 ditions, psychological and material, which under- 
 lie social organization are homogeneous enough to 
 admit of generalizations that possess a real content. 
 But I should hesitate to apply even to Russia gen- 
 eralizations based on West European study and 
 experience, and still less should I venture to apply 
 them to the civilizations of the East. It musi 
 
 201
 
 202 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 be enough for us if we can make a social theory 
 which will explain our own communities, and help 
 us to bring them, in their structure and function- 
 ing, into a more real harmony with the wills of 
 the men and women of whom they are com- 
 posed. 
 
 There are many persons, considering themselves 
 as practically-minded, who scorn altogether the sort 
 of social theory with which this book is concerned. 
 In their eyes, social and political practice is a mass 
 of expedients, devised to overcome particular dif- 
 ficulties, and not derivable from any philosophic 
 theory of Society. You can, they hold, usefully 
 classify and arrange for future reference these vari- 
 ous expedients; you can makfc lists of the forms of 
 social organization, and study, by the method of 
 comparison, the actual expedients employed in vari- 
 ous communities. But they hold that it is useless 
 to attempt, from the study of these expedients, to 
 discover universal principles, or to pretend to find 
 in them the working of certain universal ideas of 
 human association. 
 
 That the actual structure of existing Societies 
 is to a great extent made up of political and so- 
 cial expedients devised, with no theoretic arriere- 
 pensee, to meet particular problems, I most fully 
 agree ; but it has been part of my purpose to show 
 that these expedients, both in their successes and 
 still more in their failures, clearly reveal the work- 
 ing of the universal principles upon which the main 
 stress has been laid. The clash between the actual 
 structure of present-day communities and the gen- 
 eral principles which govern success in social or-
 
 CONCLUSION 203 
 
 ganization is manifest in every aspect of the com- 
 munal life to-day not only in that organized part 
 of it which we have called Society, but in its 
 reaction upon the unorganized parts of the lives 
 of the men and women who are the members of 
 the community. Society to-day is, indeed, a 
 "big, booming, buzzing confusion," and it will con- 
 tinue to be impossible to clear this confusion away 
 until we realize that its causes lie in our ignora- 
 tion of the most essential conditions of successful 
 association the principles of democratic functional 
 organization and democratic representation accord- 
 ing to function. 
 
 While we recognize, however, that much of the 
 malaise of communities to-day arises from the fail- 
 ure of their leaders to grasp and apply these funda- 
 mental principles, it is equally essential to under- 
 stand that these principles themselves are not the 
 inventions of the theorist or social philosopher, but 
 are, however imperfectly, at work everywhere 
 around us in Society. Everywhere men's striving 
 to find expression for their social purposes leads 
 them to base their action upon these principles, and 
 everywhere they find themselves thwarted by actual 
 forms of organization which run directly counter 
 to them, either because of the atrophy of a once 
 useful form or because some vested interest has in- 
 terfered so as to cause a perversion or opposition of 
 function among essential forms of association. So- 
 ciety is everywhere the scene of conflict between 
 the spontaneous outbursts of the principle of func- 
 tional democracy and the resistance of established 
 associations and institutions which are either based
 
 204 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 upon, or have come to stand for, a perversion of 
 social function. 
 
 In these circumstances, it is natural that the true 
 principles of social organization usually find their 
 purest expression in the associations of revolt. 
 There is a tendency, in some degree inevitable, of 
 things established and powerful to deteriorate and 
 suffer perversion, and, in any Society, the recall 
 to sanity will largely come from those spontaneous 
 groupings which form themselves in opposition to 
 the groups in power. This tendency would exist 
 even in the most perfectly organized community; 
 but it is greatly intensified in the communities of 
 to-day by the almost complete absence of any func- 
 tional principle 'in tne groups which at present hold 
 the recognized forms of social power. The prom- 
 ise of the Society of to-morrow is in the revolts of 
 to-day. 
 
 I have tried to make as clear as possible through- 
 out this book that human Society is neither a mech- 
 anism nor an organism. It is not a machine which 
 we can invent and put together at will in the meas- 
 ure of our collective capacity; and still less is it a 
 thing that grows without being made by our wills. 
 We cannot describe .its processes of growth and 
 change in terms of any other body of knowledge, 
 natural or unnatural. It has a method and proc- 
 esses of its own. Thus, a group of men living to- 
 gether in some particular relation within a com- 
 munity needs something. There may be a dozen 
 different ways in which the need can be met. Per- 
 haps no one devises a way of meeting it, and in 
 that case the need goes unsatisfied. Perhaps, on the
 
 CONCLUSION 205 
 
 other hand, some on r the group as a whole, 
 finds, or stumbles up^n, a way either of creating 
 some new organization to supply the need, or of 
 adapting an existing organization to deal with it. 
 More or less successfully, the necessary steps are 
 taken, and a new social development is inaugurated. 
 This development would not take place without the 
 need being more or less clearly present that is the 
 material or environmental basis of social organiza- 
 tion. But neither would the development take place 
 unless human wills devised a way of meeting the 
 need that is its human or psychological basis. 
 This, however, is only the first stage in the de- 
 velopment. The new, or re-created, organization 
 arises to meet a need ; but it not only more or less 
 perfectly meets the need, but also exerts an influ- 
 ence on the other organizations which exist side by 
 side with it in the community. It has therefore next 
 to find its proper place in the general structure of 
 Society and in the community as a whole. As an 
 actual organization, it presents itself as a fact of 
 which Society has to take account. Here, again, 
 the factor of human will comes into play. There 
 may be a dozen different ways, of varying merit, 
 of assigning to the new organization its place and 
 recognition in Society. Perhaps none of these ways, 
 or a bad way, is adopted. In that case, the new 
 organization acts as a disruptive force in Society, 
 and may, if it is strong enough, end by tearing the 
 social structure asunder, and compelling a funda- 
 mental reconstruction. Or, on the other hand, it 
 may be itself destroyed, even if it is performing 
 a useful function in Society. Perhaps, however,
 
 206 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 a reasonable way is found of fitting the new or- 
 ganization into the social structure. In that case, 
 the new organization enters into the structure of 
 Society, and in doing so both modifies Society as a 
 whole and is itself modified. These are the nor- 
 mal and peculiar processes of social development. 
 
 I am laboring this point in order to make it clear 
 that important social changes are usually inaugu- 
 rated in the parts and not in the whole of Society, 
 and often nearer to its circumference than to its 
 center. It is usually difficult, and often impossible, 
 to foresee in the early stages of such a process as 
 I have described the nature or extent of the social 
 change that is really beginning. The best social 
 prophet and the best constructive statesman are 
 those who have most the power of divining, among 
 the many new movements and associations which 
 are constantly arising and among the old ones which 
 are constantly undergoing modification to suit new 
 needs, those particular organizations which are most 
 likely to effect large changes in the whole struc- 
 ture of Society. 
 
 This may seem a truism; but it has a moral 
 which is not so generally recognized. "Keep your 
 eye on the new movements and organizations, and 
 always estimate them in accordance less with what 
 they actually are than with what they seem capable 
 of becoming" is the first maxim of social wisdom. 
 Big social changes are seldom, if ever, created or at 
 least maintained, unless the impetus to change has 
 behind it the force of an organized group or asso- 
 ciation based on a vital common need. In the wel- 
 ter of revolution, the power to build a new or-
 
 CONCLUSION 207 
 
 der will belong to those who have behind them the 
 most coherent form of social organization, the form 
 best fitted among those available to replace the old 
 order and provide for the effective fulfillment of 
 vital social functions. It is the possession by the 
 working-class movements of such strong and pur- 
 poseful forms of organization as Trade Unionism 
 and Cooperation that makes their inheritance of 
 the task of reconstructing Society almost cer- 
 tain. 
 
 No doubt, it will be said that this conviction 
 of the coming of a new order, called into being 
 largely as a result of the emergence of the new 
 forms of social power which these working-class 
 movements represent, has colored much of the writ- 
 ing contained in this book. Of course it has done 
 so. It is the business of the theorist to interpret 
 in terms of ideas the actual forces and tendencies 
 by which he is surrounded. Any one with the 
 smallest degree of social vision can see that the 
 existing structure of Society is doomed either to 
 ignominious collapse or to radical transformation. 
 Any one ought to be able to see that the social the- 
 ories based upon this structure are bound to share 
 its fate. Theory which is content merely to inter- 
 pret the established order will inevitably misinter- 
 pret ; for the truth about the established order is only 
 visible when that order is confronted with its suc- 
 cessor growing up within itself. Theory ought to 
 get ahead of actual development; for the chief 
 value of theory lies in helping men to act more 
 intelligently in the present by giving them a power 
 to grasp the principles which must go to make the
 
 208 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 future. These principles any social principles 
 are, of course, only true upon certain assumptions; 
 and I have not hesitated to make certain assump- 
 tions the basis on which the whole theory of this 
 book is built. What are these assumptions? 
 
 I assume that the object of social organization 
 is not merely material efficiency, but also essentially 
 the 'fullest self-expression of all the members. I 
 assume that self-expression involves self-govern- 
 ment, and that we ought to aim not merely at giv- 
 ing people votes, but at calling forth their full par- 
 ticipation in the common direction of the affairs of 
 the community. 
 
 If any one questions these assumptions, there is 
 no way of proving them either true or untrue. If 
 it is contended that men only ask for peace and 
 quietness, and do not want to govern themselves, 
 I answer in the first place that this is not true, 
 and, secondly, that, if it were true, we ought not 
 to acquiesce in such a state of affairs, but to alter 
 it as speedily as possible. In short, it has been 
 assumed throughout this book that human beings 
 have wills, and that they have a right and duty 
 to use those wills to their full capacity in the di- 
 rection of Society. These, I think, are my only as- 
 sumptions. For the rest, the arguments used to 
 prove each point may be sound or they may be 
 unsound. No doubt they are mixed; but my ob- 
 ject has been not to achieve finality or write a 
 definitive book, but to set others to work upon 
 problems which I have only raised. The time for 
 a new and definitive social theory is not yet; but 
 it is high time for our generation to set about lay-
 
 CONCLUSION 209 
 
 ing the foundations of a theory more responsive to 
 modern development than that which at present 
 holds sway. Orthodox social theory is bankrupt: 
 it neither corresponds to the facts of to-day, nor 
 affords any help in interpreting the tendencies which 
 are shaping a new social order within the old. There 
 are already, in the writings of such men as Mait- 
 land, Figgis, and the Guild Socialists, some of the 
 elements necessary to a new theory; and my main 
 object has been to express what seem to me the 
 essential principles of this theory, certainly not in 
 a final, but, I hope, in an intelligible form, in or- 
 der that, even if they are not accepted, they may at 
 least be criticised and discussed.
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 
 
 THERE is, of course, an immense literature dealing with 
 social and political theory in its various aspects and from 
 different points of view. These notes are not intended to 
 do more than indicate a few of the books which I have 
 found most useful, by way either of attraction or of 
 repulsion, in forming my own view. The list could be 
 indefinitely prolonged. 
 
 (A.) GENERAL 
 
 MACIVER, R. M. Community, a Sociological Study. (Mac- 
 millan.) 
 
 [This is by far the best general book I know. It 
 is especially useful on the nature of community and 
 for the study of associations.] 
 
 >r ROUSSEAU, J. J. Social Contract and Discourses, edited 
 and translated by G. D. H. Cole. (Dent.) 
 
 [Rousseau's Social Contract remains by far the 
 greatest and most stimulating study of the basis of 
 social obligation.] 
 
 BARKER, E. Political Thought from Herbert Spencer to 
 the Present Day. (Williams & Norgate.) 
 
 [A useful introductory study.] 
 
 BURNS, C. DELISLEL Political Ideals. (Oxford Uni- 
 versity Press.) 
 
 [A short study of the historical development of 
 political ideals.] 
 
 210
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 (B.) SPECIAL 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 v WALLAS, GRAHAM. Human Nature in Politics. (Con- 
 stable.) 
 The Great Society. (Macmillan.) 
 
 LIPPMANN, WALTER. A Preface to Politics. (Mitchell 
 Kennerley.) 
 
 BROWN, W. JETHRO. The Principles Underlying Modern 
 Legislation. ( Murray. ) 
 
 RITCHIE, D. G. Natural Rights. (G. Allen & Unwin.) 
 Darwinism and Politics. (G. Allen & Unwin.) 
 
 BOSANQUET, BERNARD. The Philosophical Theory of the 
 States. (Macmillan.) 
 
 ANSON, SIR W. R. The Law and Custom of the Constitu- 
 tion. (Oxford University Press.) 
 
 DICEY, A. V. The Law of the Constitution. (Macmillan.) 
 
 POLLOCK, SIR F. History of the Science of Politics. 
 (Macmillan.) 
 
 JENKS, EDWARD. The State and the Nation. (Dent.) 
 
 BAGEHOT, WALTER. Physics and Politics. (Kegan Paul.) 
 The English Constitution. (Nelson.) 
 
 MACDOUG ALL, WILLIAM. Social Psychology. ( Methuen. ) 
 
 MACDONALD, J. R. Socialism and Society. (Inde- 
 pendent Labor Party.) 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 MACIVER, Op. cit. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 v PLATO. Republic, translated by A. D. Lindsay. (Dent.) 
 
 BARKER, E. The Political Thought of Plato and Aris- 
 totle. (Methuen.) 
 
 DE MAEZTU, RAMIRO. Authority, Liberty and Function. 
 (G. Allen & Unwin.)
 
 212 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 HOBSON, S. G., and ORAGE, A. R. National Guilds. 
 
 (Bell.) 
 
 COLE, G. D. H. Self -Government in Industry. (Bell.) 
 Labor in the Commonwealth. (Headley.) 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MACIVER. Op. cit. 
 
 V GIERKE, O. Political Theories of the Middle Ages, 
 edited with an Introduction by F. W. Maitland. (Cam- 
 bridge University Press.) 
 
 CHAPTER V AND CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LASKI, H. J. Studies in the Problem of Sovereignty. 
 (Oxford University Press.) 
 
 Authority in the Modern State. (Oxford Univer- 
 sity Press.) 
 
 BOSANQUET, B. Op. Cit. 
 
 HOB HOUSE, L. T. The Metaphysical Theory of the State. 
 
 (G. Allen & Unwin.) 
 PAUL, WILLIAM. The State: its Origin and Function. 
 
 (Socialist Labor Press.) 
 COLE, G. D. H. Op. cit. 
 
 BROWN, W. JETHRO. The Austinian Theory of Law. 
 (John Murray.) 
 
 CHAPTER VI-VII 
 
 ROUSSEAU. Op. cit. 
 
 MICH ELS, R. Democracy and the Organisation of Po- 
 litical Parties. 
 BELLOC, HILAIRE, and CHESTERTON, CECIL. The Party 
 
 y System. (Swift.) 
 MILL, J. S. Representative Government. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MARX, KARL. Capital. 3 volumes. 
 >/ and ENGELS, F. The Communist Manifesto.
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 PAUL, WILLIAM. Op. cit. 
 HOBSON and ORAGE. Op. cit. 
 COLE. Op. cit. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 FAWCETT, C. B. The Natural Divisions of England. 
 (Royal Geographical Society.) 
 
 The Provinces of England. (Williams & Norgate.) 
 
 BRUN, CHARLES. Le Regionalisme. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 FIGGIS, J. N. Churches in the Modern State. (Longmans.) 
 
 ROBERTS, R. The Church in the Commonwealth. (Head- 
 ley.) 
 
 MARSON, C. L. God's Co-operative Society. (Longmans.) 
 
 Report of the Archbishops' Committee on Church and 
 State. 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 RUSSELL, BERTRAND. Roads to Freedom. (G. Allen & 
 Unwin. ) 
 
 Principles of Social Reconstruction. (G. Allen & 
 
 Unwin.) 
 
 */ MILL, J. S. Liberty. 
 
 CECIL, LORD HUGH. Liberty and Authority. (Edward 
 Arnold.) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 "^BUTLER, SAMUEL. Erewhon. (Fifield.) 
 Life and Habit. (Fifield.) 
 
 WARD, JAMES. Heredity and Memory. (Cambridge Uni- 
 versity Press.)
 
 INDEX 
 
 Action, relation to organiza- 
 tion, 33 
 
 Ad hoc organization, 99 f., 168 
 Administration, 113, 162, See 
 also Government 
 
 regional, 166 
 A. E., 35 
 
 Air Force, 141 
 
 Amalgamation, 58 
 
 American social theory, 19 
 
 Analogies, use of, 14 
 
 Anarchy, 181 
 
 Anthropology, 18 
 
 Areas, 158 ff. 
 
 Army, 42, 141, 142 
 
 Associations, 5, 7, 9, n, 14, 
 17, 25, 26, 30, 34, 35-6, 53, 
 Chap. IV., 104, 125, 206 
 
 administrative, 72, 74 
 
 appetitive, 68-9, 134 f. 
 
 coercion in, 128 
 
 definition of, 32 ff., 37 
 
 development of, 56 
 
 diseases of, 18 
 
 "essential," 65 ff., 74, 75 ff., 
 
 134 f. 
 
 forms of, Chap. IV. 
 
 government of, 104 ff., 
 
 117 ff. 
 
 motives of, 77 ff. 
 
 philanthropy, 71 
 
 political, 67, 134. See also 
 
 State and Local Govern- 
 ment 
 
 propagandist, 73-4 
 
 provident, 70 
 
 relation to institutions, 
 
 196 ff. 
 
 religious, 70. See also 
 
 Churches 
 
 rules of, 40 
 
 Associations, sociable, 71 
 
 theoretical, 71-72 
 
 vocational, 68, 72, 97, 134 f ., 
 
 136. See also Trade 
 
 Unions and Employers' 
 
 Associations 
 
 Assumptions, social, 208 
 Atrophy, social, 38, 39, 43 ff., 
 
 75, Chap. XIII., 203 
 Austinian theory of law, 5, 
 
 212 
 Australia, 164 
 
 Balance of Powers, 124-5 
 Belloc, Hilaire, 122, 151, 152, 
 
 212 
 
 "Black Lists," 129 
 Bolshevism, 10, 61 
 Bosanquet, Bernard, 22, 93, 
 
 211 
 
 British Empire, 164 
 Burke, Edmund, 22 
 Butler, Samuel, 45, 196, 199, 
 213 
 
 Cabinet system, the, 108, 122 
 
 Canada, 164 
 
 Capitalism, 42, 147 ff., 198 
 
 Caste, 42 
 
 Catholicism, Roman, 89, 172 
 
 Charity organization, 70 
 
 Chesterton, Cecil, 122, 212 
 
 Chesterton, G. K., 160 
 
 Children, 130 
 
 Church and State, 138, 172, 
 
 177 
 
 of England, 172 
 Churches, 9, 10, 18, 22, 38, 42, 
 
 61, 70, 73, 76, 101, 129, 
 Chap. XL 
 
 as institutions, 197 
 
 215
 
 216 
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 Churches, Free, 172 
 City, 27 
 
 State, 86, 95, 107 
 
 Clan, the, 12 
 Class-dictatorship, 88 
 
 discrimination, 87 
 
 privilege, 87 
 
 war, 150, 152, 155, 171 
 
 Classes, economic, 153 
 
 social, 87 f . 
 Clubs, 71 
 
 Coal Industry Commission, 
 
 159 
 
 Coercion, case against, 139 ff. 
 Coercive power, 5, 126-7, 
 
 Chap. VIII., 186, 189 f. 
 Collectivism, 86, 98, 152 
 Colvin, Ian, 54 
 Committees, 121 
 Communism, 10, 69, 152 
 Community, 22, 97 
 
 definition of, 25-6 
 
 relation to State, 64 
 
 spirit of, 35, 120, 169 
 Companies, limited, 36, 68, 73 
 
 Livery, 43-4, 198 
 Company law, 88 
 Conflicting Social Obligations, 
 
 141 
 Consent as basis of society, 
 
 91, "3 
 
 Conservatism, 44 
 Consular service, 84 
 Consumers, organization of, 
 
 69, 98 ff . 
 
 Control of Industry, 153, 198 
 Cooperative Societies, 73, 207 
 Coordination, 88, 101, Chap. 
 
 VIII., 167 f., 176 ff., 183, 
 
 189 
 Corporate bodies, position of, 
 
 6 
 
 County Councils, 170 
 Coventry, sending to, 129 
 Cox. R. W. T., 152 
 Crowd psychology, 18 
 Custom, 5, 25, 41, 44, 45, 195 
 
 definition of, 45 
 
 relation to institutions, 45 
 
 Darwinism, 200 
 
 Decentralization, 164 
 
 Delegate versus representa- 
 tive, 109 ff. 
 
 Delegation, 118 
 
 Democracy, 9, 90, Chap. VI., 
 160. See also Functional 
 Organization 
 
 Despotism, 90 
 
 Devolution, 161 f. 
 
 Direct action, 60 
 
 Divine Right of Kings, 8, 90 
 
 Domestic system in industry, 
 
 13 
 
 Dominion Government, 84 
 Duckham, Sir A., 159 
 
 Eastern civilization, 201 
 Economic aspects of society, 
 
 37, 59. 64, 72, 98, Chap. 
 
 IX., 158 
 
 power, 144 ff., 153 ff. 
 Efficiency, 208 
 Elasticity, social, 39 
 Elected persons, audacity of, 
 
 105, 121 
 
 Election, indirect, 167 ff. 
 Employers' associations, 59, 
 
 68, 77. 150, 154, 171 
 "End in itself,'' 23 
 Engels, F., 144, 147, 212 
 Environment, i, 2, 205 
 Equality, economic, 151, 153, 
 
 156, 186-7 
 Erewhon, 196, 213 
 Establishment, the, 173 
 Ethics, relation to social 
 
 theory, 7, 14, 20, 49 
 Europe, Western, 201 
 Executive power, 123 
 
 Factory Acts, 83 
 Family, u ff., 26, 64 
 
 analogy from, 13 
 Federal Governments, 84 
 
 organization, 134 ff ., 164 
 Figgis, J. N., 10, 209, 213 
 Filmer, Sir R., 13 
 
 Free will, 183
 
 INDEX 
 
 Friendly Societies, 70, 73 
 Function, confusion of, 57 ff. 
 
 in relation to individual, 
 
 48-9 
 
 opposition of, 57-9 
 
 perversion of, 57-9, 60-2, 
 
 122 ff., 145, 148, 156, 184, 
 203 
 Functional Equity, Court of, 
 
 137 ff- 
 
 organization, 9, 10, Chap. 
 
 III., 79, 107, 125, 130 ff., 
 134 ff., 154, 162 ff., 194, 
 203, 207 
 Functions, demarcation of, 55 
 
 Geddes, Patrick, 160 
 General Will, 23, 51. See 
 
 Will as Basis of Society 
 Gierke, Otto, n, 212 
 Government, Chap. VII. 
 
 Dominion, 84, 164 
 
 federal, 84, 164 
 Governments, common will 
 
 of, 120 
 
 tendency to deteriorate, 19, 
 
 120 
 
 Graham, Stephen, 198 
 Groups, temporary, 40 
 Grundy, Mrs., 196 
 Guild Socialism, 10, 140, 152, 
 
 209 
 Guilds, medieval, 43, 64, 85, 
 
 198 
 
 Habit, 104 ff. 
 
 Hegel, 22 
 
 History, constitutional, 18 
 
 ecclesiastical, 18 
 
 materialist conception of, 
 
 146, 152 
 
 relation to social theory, 
 
 IT f. 
 
 Hobbes, 8 
 
 Hobhouse, L. T., 93, 212 
 Hungary, 65 
 
 Individual, 49-50 
 
 relation to society, 4, 5, 62 
 
 Individual, unorganizable as- 
 pects of, 31, 139, 160, 179, 
 i8p ff. See also Personal 
 Rights 
 
 Industrial Revolution, 85, 147 
 
 self-government, 10 
 Innovation, method of social, 
 
 204 f., 206 f. 
 Institutions, 25, 30, 44 
 
 atrophy of, Chap. XIII. 
 
 definition of, 41, 43, 196 f. 
 
 relation to associations, 
 
 196 ff. 
 Insurance Companies, 70 
 
 mutual, 70 
 
 State, 84 
 "Interests," 52 
 International social structure, 
 
 46, 88 ff., 141 
 Ireland, 28, 30-1, 35 
 
 Joint Council of functional 
 
 bodies, 135 ff. 
 Judiciary, 123, 137 
 
 Kant. 183 
 
 Labor in the Commonwealth, 
 
 141, 143, 212 
 Labor legislation, 84 
 
 Research Department, 159 
 Lamarckism, 200 
 
 Law, 6, 8, n, 15, 18, 19, 20, 
 123, 137, 164, 198. See 
 also Lynch Law 
 
 Roman, n 
 
 Society, 129 
 Leadership, in 
 
 League of Nations, 89, 141, 
 
 143 
 
 Learned societies, 71-2 
 Legislation, Chap. VII., 186 
 
 commercial, 84 
 
 functional, 125 ff. 
 labor, 83-84 
 
 Liberty. Chap. XII. See also 
 Personal Rights and In- 
 dividual
 
 218 
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 Liberty, personal, 184 
 
 social, 182 f . 
 
 "Life and Liberty" movement, 
 
 70, 173 
 Local Government, 5, 67, 77, 
 
 84 f., 87, Chap. X. 
 
 English, 164 
 
 Local patriotism, 160, 169 f. 
 Locke, John, 83 
 Lords, House of, 136 
 Loyalties, conflict of, 27, 140, 
 
 189 
 Lynch law, 130 
 
 Maitland, F. W., n, 209, 
 
 212 
 Majorities, apathetic, 22 
 
 tyranny of, 188 f . 
 Mai-distribution, 153, 186 
 Mann, J. E. F., 152 
 Marriage, 42, 43, 45, 87 
 Marx, 144, 145, 147, 212 
 Marxism, 10, 148, 149, 151, 
 
 153, 156, 162, ^199 
 Materialist conception of his- 
 tory, 146, 152 
 Mechanical theory of society, 
 
 14, 21, 204 
 
 Medical Council, General, 129 
 Mercantile System, 85 
 Michels, R., 18, 122, 212 
 Middle Ages, 10, 43, 64, 85, 
 
 138, 147. 172 
 Militarism, 142 
 Milner, Dennis, 85 
 Mining, 97, 159 
 Minorities, conscious, 57 
 
 dissentient, 22 
 Misrepresentation, 107, 108, 
 
 159 f. 
 
 Monarchy, 42, 43 
 Monogamy, 42 
 Montesquieu, 18, 19 
 Manning Post, 54 
 Motives, "associative," 77, 135 
 
 "several," 77 
 
 social, 18. Chap. IV. 
 Municipal trading, 84 
 Musical Banks, 196 
 
 Napoleon of Netting Hill, 
 
 The, 160 
 Nation, 26, 46, 95 
 
 -State, 86, 95 
 "National Guildsmen," 88 
 Navy, 42, 141, 142 
 
 New Age, 88 
 "New Heptarchy," 166 
 Non-adult races, 130 
 Non-unionism, 129 
 
 Officials, 104 ff., 118 
 Oligarchy, 9 
 
 One man one vote, 114-115 
 Orders in Council, 124 
 Organic theory of society, 14, 
 
 21, 204 
 Organization, a necessary evil, 
 
 185-6 
 
 Osborne Judgment, 39 
 Ostrogorski, 18 
 "Other-worldliness," 174 
 
 Papacy, the, 172 
 
 Parliament, 68, 108, 114, 119, 
 124, 150, 167 
 
 Party System, 122 
 
 Paul, William, 148. 212 
 
 Peasant proprietorship, 151 
 
 Peerage, 42, 43 
 
 Penty, A. J., 160 
 
 Persona ficta, n 
 
 Personal rights, 87, 101, 131, 
 139, 181 ff. See also In- 
 dividual and Liberty. 
 
 "Personality," social, 14, 15 
 
 Physiology, 2O 
 
 Plato, 48, 211 
 
 Plutocracy, 108 
 
 Police, 137 
 
 Union, 9 
 
 Political activities, definition 
 of. 86 
 
 organization, 168-9. See 
 
 also State and Local 
 Government. 
 
 relation to economic, 
 
 144 ff., 176 
 
 parties, 26, 41, 68, 73
 
 INDEX 
 
 219 
 
 Political activities, theory, 4, 
 
 9, 156 
 Primitive civilization, 11-12, 
 
 1 8, 29, 64, 147 
 Profits, 58 
 Proportional Representation, 
 
 167 
 
 Provincial Home Rule, 166 
 Psychology, 14 
 
 physiological, 20 
 
 social, 10, 15, 18, 19, 2O, 
 
 21 
 
 Public utility services, 158 f . 
 Purposes, individual, 33. See 
 
 also Wants and Motives 
 
 social, 25, 33, 38, 52, 53-4. 
 
 See also Wants and Mo- 
 tives 
 
 Recall, in, 167 
 Referendum, 118, 133-4 
 Regionalism, 85, Chap. X. 
 Religious disputes, 150-1 
 Representation, Chap. VI., 
 159 f., 191 
 
 functional, 100, 105 ff., 119. 
 
 See also Functional Or- 
 ganization 
 
 Representative Government, 
 18, 103 ff., 114, ii7ff., 
 123 ff. 
 
 or delegate, 109 
 Republics, 43 
 
 Research, industrial, 72, 84 
 "Reunion all round," 175 
 Revolt as form of progress, 
 
 204 
 
 Revolution, 60-1, 94, 198, 206 
 - English, 83 
 
 Rights, personal. See Per- 
 sonal 
 
 political, 94 
 
 Rousseau, 6, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 
 
 51. 105, 120, 133, 210 
 Rousseau's Emile, 20 
 Rules, associative, 40 
 
 ethical, 40 
 
 Russell, Bertrand, 140, 213 
 Russia, 61, 65, 198, 201 
 
 Schools, 2 
 Science, 13 
 Second Chamber, vocational, 
 
 136 
 
 Selection, social, 54 
 Self-government, case for, 208 
 Self -Government in Industry, 
 
 loo, 123, 135, 212 
 Sex relationships, 86-87 
 Sievers, N. J., 152 
 Social content of action, 7 
 
 contract, 8 
 
 theory, scope of, 3, 7, 8, 17, 
 
 202 ff. 
 
 Social theory, method of, 14 
 Socialism, international, 89 
 Society, 25, 66 
 
 as mechanism, 14, 21, 204 
 
 as organism, 14, 21, 204 
 
 as person, 14 
 
 -correlation of organiza- 
 tions in, 204 ff. See also 
 Coordination 
 
 definition of, 29 
 Sociology, 18 
 Sovereignty, 10, 102, 126, 133, 
 
 140. 143, 145, 162, 190 
 Soviets, I2i 
 
 Spencer, Herbert, 21, 180 
 "State, The." 4, 5, 10, 18, 22, 
 
 29, 42, 64, 67, 69, 73, Chap. 
 
 V, 112. 119, 183, 188 
 
 and Individual, 4, 9, Chap. 
 
 XII. See also Individual 
 
 and society, 6 
 
 as association, 81, 95 
 
 as coercive power, 128 ff., 
 
 131 ff., 145-6 
 
 as compulsory association, 
 
 94 
 
 as territorial association, 95 
 
 bonus scheme, 85 
 
 coordinating activities of, 
 
 88, 101 ff. 
 
 economic activities of, 83 
 
 ff.. 97 ff- 
 
 employees, 84 
 
 external relations of, 88, 
 
 141 f .
 
 220 
 
 SOCIAL THEORY 
 
 "State, The," functions of, 
 m 82 ff., 96 ff., 136 
 
 in industry, 84 
 
 members of, 93-4 
 
 political activities of, 86 ff., 
 
 100 f. 
 
 Socialism. See Collectiv- 
 
 ism 
 
 structure of, go ff. 
 States, actual, 16 
 
 democratic, 91-2 
 
 joint action of, 89. 
 
 modern, 82 
 Strikes, 60, 145 
 Struggle for bread, 152-3 
 
 for power, 153 
 Subjects, 93 
 Suffrage, universal, 95 
 Syndicalism, 10, 152 
 
 Taxation, 85 
 
 Terminology of social theory, 
 
 16, 23, Chap. II. 
 Theory, value of, 207 f. 
 Town-planning, 160 
 Trade Union law, 88 
 
 Unions, 2, 9, 26, 39, 41, 59, 
 
 60, 68, 70, 73, 77, 79, 95, 
 101, 124, 128, 147, 150, 
 155, 171, 198, 207 
 
 Tribe, 29 
 Trusts, 84, 159 
 
 Universitas, 177 
 University, 2, 26 
 Utopias, 193, 199 
 
 Votes, 94, 115-6, 118-9, 208 
 
 Wallas, Graham, 19, 211 
 Wants, "associative," 34, 77 
 
 "several," 34, 77 
 
 social, 33, 204-5. See also 
 
 Motives and Purposes 
 War, 141 ff. 
 Ward, James, 45, 213 
 Webb, S. and B., 159 
 Whitman, Walt, 105 
 Will, as basis of society, 6, 7, 
 
 8, 22, 103, 193, 200, 204 
 
 General, 23, 51 
 "Will" of association, 22 
 
 'real,' 91, 92-3, 188 
 Women, 2, 5 
 
 World community, 26, 142 
 
 Ydgrun, 196
 
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