Part 16

Should the jurisdiction of the government be extended or curtailed? Or should it be extended in some directions and curtailed in others? Does the answer to this problem depend on the answer to the previous one? Another form of the same problem is: What is the proper sphere of government?

Should the government grant monopolies? Patents, for example?

What would be the most practicable plan for abolishing or minimizing war? Those who do not wish to beg the previous question may first ask whether it is always desirable to prevent war, whether war is always an evil. What is the effect of war on the physical future of the race? on national and individual character? on government? on national liberty? on personal liberty? What are the ethics of war? for aggression? for territorial conquest? for “national honor”? for defense of a weaker nation? for defense against invasion? What is the effect of preparedness? of universal preparedness? of preparedness of an individual nation? In each case what are the principles on which the extent of preparedness should be determined? What are the fundamental causes of war? How can they be removed? Is it possible to remove all of them?

Which is the rightful owner of land, the community or the individual? To state the problem in another form: Should private land ownership be abolished?

Who should be entitled to vote? This of course is a question similar to woman suffrage, but it is much broader. It deals not only with the qualification of sex, but of age. Should any one under twenty-one have the vote? The validity of property and educational qualifications should also be considered.

How should the relations of the sexes be regulated? Put in slightly narrower and perhaps less objectionable form: What would be just laws governing marriage and divorce?

What is the effect of attempted State interference with the law of supply and demand? Does the unrestricted working out of this law forward ultimate justice? Just what is the validity and the meaning of the expression “The law of supply and demand”? The question could be taken up in connection with minimum wage laws, railroad rate regulations, “extra crew” laws, etc.

Which is the best policy: free trade, revenue tariff, or protective tariff? Or under what conditions is each best? With what classes of commodities?

What would be an equitable and sound currency system? This question is somewhat technical, and would have to be considered in the form of a number of subsidiary problems. Ought money to have an intrinsic value? What is the effect of “fiat” paper currency on money of intrinsic value and on prices? The effect of credit? The effect of fluctuations in the supply of gold? Ought there be a double standard or a multiple standard? etc.

Should conduct be judged by the pleasure or happiness it yields? Stated in another form, almost a different problem: Is utility a good moral guide?

Should conduct be judged by its tendency to produce individual well-being, or should it be judged by its tendency to produce the well-being of all humanity, or of all sentient beings? This problem cannot be lightly dismissed in favor of universal well-being. This becomes apparent when we attempt to give an undogmatic and non-question-begging answer to the query: Why should a man act for the benefit of others?

No science is more provocative of thought than ethics. The question of whether acts should be declared good or bad as they tend to produce pleasure or happiness, either individual or in humanity as a whole, or whether “virtue” or “morality” is an end in itself, is one of the most subtle and elusive we can attempt to solve; no matter which answer we give we are brought into logical and psychological dilemmas from which it seems impossible to escape. This is also true of the problem of whether our knowledge of what constitutes right and wrong comes from experience or from intuition.

The broadest form of the ethical problem, which includes the two preceding italicized problems, is:

What is the proper criterion for determining right and wrong conduct? Or even less dogmatic: Can there be a criterion for determining right and wrong conduct, and what is it?

Somewhat allied with the ethical problem is that problem of problems: how to live? By this is meant how to put the most into life and get the most out of it; what vocation to follow; what hobbies, amusements, avocations to take up; how to plan time by months, by weeks, by days, by hours. How much time and energy do certain activities deserve? How much can we afford to give them? Restated: what activities are of most worth?

Of course every one does think of problems connected with the art of living. But he thinks of them as little unconnected questions. Barely indeed does any one go about the solution of the general problem of living in an orderly, systematic manner. To insist upon the broad practical bearings of the problem would be unnecessary, absurd. By its very nature it is the most “practical” question we can ask. Any particular solution or treatment may be impractical, but this does not affect the question itself.

What are the respective influences of environment (education, experience, etc.) and innate tendencies in determining character? Which is the greater determinant?

Does pleasure depend upon the satisfaction of instinctive desires, or do desires for certain activities depend upon the pleasure accompanying the previous performance of such activities? Does an activity or the possession of an object give us pleasure because we have previously desired it, or do we desire an activity or an object because we have previously obtained pleasure from it? Or do pleasure and desire interact, and just how? The solution of this psychological problem is of tremendous importance in ethics.

Does the mind depend entirely on the brain? That is, are all thoughts, emotions, feelings, due to material changes in the brain? The answer we give to this problem may determine our answer to the question of immortality.

What knowledge is of most worth? I have so fully discussed the importance of this question and the method of proceeding with its solution that further explanation is needless.

One sphere of thought where the thinker is compelled to be original; where it is practically impossible for him to fall into beaten tracks, is invention. But there is useless as well as useful invention. A man’s ambition may range all the way from inventing a machine to harness directly the limitless power of the sun, down to devising a tenacious tip for shoelaces. But he should be careful about inventing something already patented. He should be even more careful to avoid inventing something for which there is no demand. One of Edison’s first patents was for a machine to register quickly the votes of legislative assemblies. And it worked. But the legislative assemblies didn’t want it, because they didn’t want their votes quickly registered. That would have ended good old filibuster methods. Another invention of great uselessness which has been several times attempted is a machine to write words just like the human hand writes them. There are really so many useful things which do not exist and for which there is a demand, that it seems quite a pity nine out of ten patents in the files at Washington are for things inutile. If the would-be inventor cannot himself think of something really needed, almost any big patent attorney house will send him an entire book of suggestions on “What to Invent.”

Invention usually requires highly technical knowledge, not to speak of facilities for experiment and a well-supplied purse. But nothing gives more solid satisfaction to its creator than a successful appliance. While the conscientious philosopher is constantly harassed by doubts as to whether, after all, he has discovered truth; the inventor need not worry. His machine either works or it does not work, and he knows the truth of his thought thereby. On the other hand the philosopher will always have some thoughts. Be they true or not they may at least be interesting and worth recording, whereas the inventor may toil on for years and years with absolutely nothing to show for his exertion at the end. . . .

There are a number of problems that are not of great “practical” importance, but whose theoretic value is so transcendent as to compel attention. Among these are certain problems in psychology, but more especially in metaphysics, philosophy and even religion, insofar as religion can be said to have problems.

Is there a God and is it possible for man to learn anything of His nature? Some readers may object to the first part of this question. But I state it because I am anxious to avoid dogmatism.

Is the soul immortal? What do we mean by the soul? Does science disprove the life after death?

What is the test of truth? How shall we know truth when we have it? What after all is “truth”?

Are our wills free, or are our actions predetermined? Some may object to this way of stating the question. Much confusion exists as to the meaning of the problem. A different way of stating it would lead to different treatment. What is the “will”? What do we mean by “free”? What do we mean by “predetermined”?

The problem of existence. How did the universe come into being? This is the last problem in which interest can be stimulated from without. No matter in how many different ways he phrases it, a writer cannot convey this sense of mystery to another. It must arise from within. Most of the time we accept, we take for granted, the universe and the existent order of things, and it requires the greatest effort to keep alive our mystification and doubt for even short periods.