May
1, 2009
Albert Einstein is the
world-famous physicist. This article was originally published in the first
issue of Monthly Review (May 1949). It was subsequently published in May 1998
to commemorate the first issue of MR‘s fiftieth year.
—The Editor
Albert Einstein (1959), charcoal and watercolor drawing by
Alexander Dobkin. Dobkin (1908–1975) was an important painter of the
mid-twentieth century American realist tradition along with other left-wing
artists such as Jack Levine, Robert Gwathmey, Philip Evergood, and Raphael and
Moses Soyer. A student and collaborator of the Mexican muralist Jose Clemente
Orozco, his work is in the permanent collections of the Butler Art Institute,
the Museum of Modern Art, the Brooklyn Museum, the Whitney Museum of American
Art, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Library of Congress, and the
Smithsonian Institution. (The preceding caption was written by John J. Simon,
"Albert Einstein, Radical: A Political Profile," Monthly Review vol.
57, no. 1 [2005].)
Is
it advisable for one who is not an expert on economic and social issues to
express views on the subject of socialism? I believe for a number of reasons
that it is.
Let
us first consider the question from the point of view of scientific knowledge.
It might appear that there are no essential methodological differences between
astronomy and economics: scientists in both fields attempt to discover laws of
general acceptability for a circumscribed group of phenomena in order to make
the interconnection of these phenomena as clearly understandable as possible.
But in reality such methodological differences do exist. The discovery of
general laws in the field of economics is made difficult by the circumstance
that observed economic phenomena are often affected by many factors which are
very hard to evaluate separately. In addition, the experience which has
accumulated since the beginning of the so-called civilized period of human
history has—as is well known—been largely influenced and limited by causes
which are by no means exclusively economic in nature. For example, most of the
major states of history owed their existence to conquest. The conquering
peoples established themselves, legally and economically, as the privileged
class of the conquered country. They seized for themselves a monopoly of the
land ownership and appointed a priesthood from among their own ranks. The
priests, in control of education, made the class division of society into a
permanent institution and created a system of values by which the people were
thenceforth, to a large extent unconsciously, guided in their social behavior.
But
historic tradition is, so to speak, of yesterday; nowhere have we really
overcome what Thorstein Veblen called “the predatory phase” of human
development. The observable economic facts belong to that phase and even such
laws as we can derive from them are not applicable to other phases. Since the
real purpose of socialism is precisely to overcome and advance beyond the
predatory phase of human development, economic science in its present state can
throw little light on the socialist society of the future.
Second,
socialism is directed towards a social-ethical end. Science, however, cannot
create ends and, even less, instill them in human beings; science, at most, can
supply the means by which to attain certain ends. But the ends themselves are
conceived by personalities with lofty ethical ideals and—if these ends are not
stillborn, but vital and vigorous—are adopted and carried forward by those many
human beings who, half unconsciously, determine the slow evolution of society.
For
these reasons, we should be on our guard not to overestimate science and
scientific methods when it is a question of human problems; and we should not
assume that experts are the only ones who have a right to express themselves on
questions affecting the organization of society.
Innumerable
voices have been asserting for some time now that human society is passing
through a crisis, that its stability has been gravely shattered. It is
characteristic of such a situation that individuals feel indifferent or even
hostile toward the group, small or large, to which they belong. In order to
illustrate my meaning, let me record here a personal experience. I recently
discussed with an intelligent and well-disposed man the threat of another war,
which in my opinion would seriously endanger the existence of mankind, and I
remarked that only a supra-national organization would offer protection from
that danger. Thereupon my visitor, very calmly and coolly, said to me: “Why are
you so deeply opposed to the disappearance of the human race?”
I
am sure that as little as a century ago no one would have so lightly made a
statement of this kind. It is the statement of a man who has striven in vain to
attain an equilibrium within himself and has more or less lost hope of
succeeding. It is the expression of a painful solitude and isolation from which
so many people are suffering in these days. What is the cause? Is there a way
out?
It
is easy to raise such questions, but difficult to answer them with any degree
of assurance. I must try, however, as best I can, although I am very conscious
of the fact that our feelings and strivings are often contradictory and obscure
and that they cannot be expressed in easy and simple formulas.
Man
is, at one and the same time, a solitary being and a social being. As a
solitary being, he attempts to protect his own existence and that of those who
are closest to him, to satisfy his personal desires, and to develop his innate
abilities. As a social being, he seeks to gain the recognition and affection of
his fellow human beings, to share in their pleasures, to comfort them in their
sorrows, and to improve their conditions of life. Only the existence of these
varied, frequently conflicting, strivings accounts for the special character of
a man, and their specific combination determines the extent to which an
individual can achieve an inner equilibrium and can contribute to the
well-being of society. It is quite possible that the relative strength of these
two drives is, in the main, fixed by inheritance. But the personality that
finally emerges is largely formed by the environment in which a man happens to
find himself during his development, by the structure of the society in which
he grows up, by the tradition of that society, and by its appraisal of
particular types of behavior. The abstract concept “society” means to the
individual human being the sum total of his direct and indirect relations to
his contemporaries and to all the people of earlier generations. The individual
is able to think, feel, strive, and work by himself; but he depends so much
upon society—in his physical, intellectual, and emotional existence—that it is
impossible to think of him, or to understand him, outside the framework of
society. It is “society” which provides man with food, clothing, a home, the
tools of work, language, the forms of thought, and most of the content of
thought; his life is made possible through the labor and the accomplishments of
the many millions past and present who are all hidden behind the small word
“society.”
It
is evident, therefore, that the dependence of the individual upon society is a
fact of nature which cannot be abolished—just as in the case of ants and bees.
However, while the whole life process of ants and bees is fixed down to the
smallest detail by rigid, hereditary instincts, the social pattern and
interrelationships of human beings are very variable and susceptible to change.
Memory, the capacity to make new combinations, the gift of oral communication
have made possible developments among human being which are not dictated by
biological necessities. Such developments manifest themselves in traditions,
institutions, and organizations; in literature; in scientific and engineering
accomplishments; in works of art. This explains how it happens that, in a
certain sense, man can influence his life through his own conduct, and that in
this process conscious thinking and wanting can play a part.
Man
acquires at birth, through heredity, a biological constitution which we must
consider fixed and unalterable, including the natural urges which are
characteristic of the human species. In addition, during his lifetime, he
acquires a cultural constitution which he adopts from society through
communication and through many other types of influences. It is this cultural
constitution which, with the passage of time, is subject to change and which
determines to a very large extent the relationship between the individual and
society. Modern anthropology has taught us, through comparative investigation
of so-called primitive cultures, that the social behavior of human beings may
differ greatly, depending upon prevailing cultural patterns and the types of
organization which predominate in society. It is on this that those who are
striving to improve the lot of man may ground their hopes: human beings are not
condemned, because of their biological constitution, to annihilate each other
or to be at the mercy of a cruel, self-inflicted fate.
If
we ask ourselves how the structure of society and the cultural attitude of man
should be changed in order to make human life as satisfying as possible, we
should constantly be conscious of the fact that there are certain conditions
which we are unable to modify. As mentioned before, the biological nature of
man is, for all practical purposes, not subject to change. Furthermore,
technological and demographic developments of the last few centuries have
created conditions which are here to stay. In relatively densely settled
populations with the goods which are indispensable to their continued
existence, an extreme division of labor and a highly-centralized productive
apparatus are absolutely necessary. The time—which, looking back, seems so
idyllic—is gone forever when individuals or relatively small groups could be
completely self-sufficient. It is only a slight exaggeration to say that
mankind constitutes even now a planetary community of production and
consumption.
I
have now reached the point where I may indicate briefly what to me constitutes
the essence of the crisis of our time. It concerns the relationship of the
individual to society. The individual has become more conscious than ever of
his dependence upon society. But he does not experience this dependence as a
positive asset, as an organic tie, as a protective force, but rather as a
threat to his natural rights, or even to his economic existence. Moreover, his
position in society is such that the egotistical drives of his make-up are
constantly being accentuated, while his social drives, which are by nature
weaker, progressively deteriorate. All human beings, whatever their position in
society, are suffering from this process of deterioration. Unknowingly prisoners
of their own egotism, they feel insecure, lonely, and deprived of the naive,
simple, and unsophisticated enjoyment of life. Man can find meaning in life,
short and perilous as it is, only through devoting himself to society.
The
economic anarchy of capitalist society as it exists today is, in my opinion,
the real source of the evil. We see before us a huge community of producers the
members of which are unceasingly striving to deprive each other of the fruits
of their collective labor—not by force, but on the whole in faithful compliance
with legally established rules. In this respect, it is important to realize
that the means of production—that is to say, the entire productive capacity
that is needed for producing consumer goods as well as additional capital
goods—may legally be, and for the most part are, the private property of
individuals.
For
the sake of simplicity, in the discussion that follows I shall call “workers”
all those who do not share in the ownership of the means of production—although
this does not quite correspond to the customary use of the term. The owner of
the means of production is in a position to purchase the labor power of the
worker. By using the means of production, the worker produces new goods which
become the property of the capitalist. The essential point about this process
is the relation between what the worker produces and what he is paid, both
measured in terms of real value. Insofar as the labor contract is “free,” what
the worker receives is determined not by the real value of the goods he
produces, but by his minimum needs and by the capitalists’ requirements for
labor power in relation to the number of workers competing for jobs. It is
important to understand that even in theory the payment of the worker is not
determined by the value of his product.
Private
capital tends to become concentrated in few hands, partly because of
competition among the capitalists, and partly because technological development
and the increasing division of labor encourage the formation of larger units of
production at the expense of smaller ones. The result of these developments is
an oligarchy of private capital the enormous power of which cannot be
effectively checked even by a democratically organized political society. This
is true since the members of legislative bodies are selected by political
parties, largely financed or otherwise influenced by private capitalists who,
for all practical purposes, separate the electorate from the legislature. The
consequence is that the representatives of the people do not in fact sufficiently
protect the interests of the underprivileged sections of the population.
Moreover, under existing conditions, private capitalists inevitably control,
directly or indirectly, the main sources of information (press, radio,
education). It is thus extremely difficult, and indeed in most cases quite
impossible, for the individual citizen to come to objective conclusions and to
make intelligent use of his political rights.
The
situation prevailing in an economy based on the private ownership of capital is
thus characterized by two main principles: first, means of production (capital)
are privately owned and the owners dispose of them as they see fit; second, the
labor contract is free. Of course, there is no such thing as a pure capitalist
society in this sense. In particular, it should be noted that the workers,
through long and bitter political struggles, have succeeded in securing a
somewhat improved form of the “free labor contract” for certain categories of
workers. But taken as a whole, the present day economy does not differ much
from “pure” capitalism.
Production
is carried on for profit, not for use. There is no provision that all those
able and willing to work will always be in a position to find employment; an
“army of unemployed” almost always exists. The worker is constantly in fear of
losing his job. Since unemployed and poorly paid workers do not provide a
profitable market, the production of consumers’ goods is restricted, and great
hardship is the consequence. Technological progress frequently results in more
unemployment rather than in an easing of the burden of work for all. The profit
motive, in conjunction with competition among capitalists, is responsible for
an instability in the accumulation and utilization of capital which leads to
increasingly severe depressions. Unlimited competition leads to a huge waste of
labor, and to that crippling of the social consciousness of individuals which I
mentioned before.
This
crippling of individuals I consider the worst evil of capitalism. Our whole
educational system suffers from this evil. An exaggerated competitive attitude
is inculcated into the student, who is trained to worship acquisitive success
as a preparation for his future career.
I
am convinced there is only one way to eliminate these grave evils, namely
through the establishment of a socialist economy, accompanied by an educational
system which would be oriented toward social goals. In such an economy, the
means of production are owned by society itself and are utilized in a planned
fashion. A planned economy, which adjusts production to the needs of the
community, would distribute the work to be done among all those able to work
and would guarantee a livelihood to every man, woman, and child. The education
of the individual, in addition to promoting his own innate abilities, would
attempt to develop in him a sense of responsibility for his fellow men in place
of the glorification of power and success in our present society.
Nevertheless,
it is necessary to remember that a planned economy is not yet socialism. A
planned economy as such may be accompanied by the complete enslavement of the
individual. The achievement of socialism requires the solution of some
extremely difficult socio-political problems: how is it possible, in view of
the far-reaching centralization of political and economic power, to prevent
bureaucracy from becoming all-powerful and overweening? How can the rights of
the individual be protected and therewith a democratic counterweight to the
power of bureaucracy be assured?
Clarity
about the aims and problems of socialism is of greatest significance in our age
of transition. Since, under present circumstances, free and unhindered
discussion of these problems has come under a powerful taboo, I consider the
foundation of this magazine to be an important public service.
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