Sibylla or, The revival of prophecy
mechanism primarily intended for the brutes, but annoyingly persistent
in its control over civilized man. They agree, however, to act the
performance through, because a rational way of making love is difficult
to devise. They agree to make senseless and meaningless remarks. He is
prepared to rave about her perfectly beautiful eyes whilst rationally
convinced that they show a distinct suspicion of squint. She in her
turn will admire his manly form whilst fully conscious that he is
rather undersized and remembering that he signally failed to get his
Blue. The kind of objective attitude that we are being taught to adopt
towards criminals, which the psycho-analysts tell us to adopt towards
the libertine, sooner or later we shall have to adopt towards ourselves.
In any attempt to picture to ourselves the life of future man one of
the chief of the things which we have to take into account is the
entirely remodelled constitution of society. There will be a small
upper class――very small because, as all the prophets agree, the
decrease of the birthrate in the upper strata will assume for sometime
quite alarming proportions. It will be regenerated for a while by
the bolder, more adventurous, and more capable of the working-class,
who use their wits to escape from the situation into which they were
born. Later, of course, this escape will be facilitated by reliable
mental, moral, and vocational tests. The working-classes proper will
then consist only of those less capable of administrative, organizing,
and managemental functions. There will be relatively little unrest
because the ruling classes will have learnt the wisdom of making the
workers comfortable and happy; and potential agitators by the system
of vocational selection will find themselves more lucratively employed
in voicing the opinions of the ruling classes at the broadcasting
stations. Plato will have come into his own. His criticism of
democracy will have become accepted and the philosopher kings――with a
difference――will have become established in the seats of power.
Whilst the masses enjoy their innocent pleasures, the ruling caste will
live a life of its own. Judged by the present, one might expect it to
be a life of sport, gambling, and house-parties, and there may be a
transition-period of this kind. In this no doubt some curious forms
of sport will be devised. If the theory is well founded which asserts
that our present modes of sport are debased survivals of ancient
occupations, the craze of the fortieth century may be the fascinating
game of mining. It will be played in specially constructed coal-mines,
filled with ingenious traps, blind alleys, and water-hazards. Messrs
Pope and Bradley in those days will circularize their clients by
provocative letters pointing out that last year’s mining suit is
hopelessly out of date, or that the time has now come for replenishing
the aerial wardrobe for the forthcoming polar sports. Chemical
warfare, conducted with novel forms of laughing-gas, will be a popular
institution at Christmas parties.
Various considerations combine, however, to suggest that sport is but a
transitory phenomenon in human life.
Firstly, the applications of scientific method to its pursuit is
tending to remove its distinctive character. And this tendency for
economic reasons is likely to prove irresistible. The old-fashioned
sportsman will protest against the newer methods. He may refuse to
bring to the golf course wind gauge and slide rule; he may refuse
to attend to the lessons of motion study, but in consequence of his
stubbornness he will find himself too ridiculously outclassed to appear
on the course at all. His will be the fate of the older militarists who
protest on similar grounds against chemical warfare.
To those who play the newer game, sport will become a rigorous
discipline and a scientific pursuit.
The general public, moreover, will increasingly enjoy its sport by
proxy. The televisual cinema, which will then be stereoscopic, will
provide a substitute for the football match; and the sporting spectacle
will naturally form only an incident in the variety show. Again, the
sporting interest will be merged, this time in the interests of
general entertainment.
Another important change already far advanced which will radically
alter the character of sporting life is man’s recent discovery of his
mind. The punch ball and gloves now hang limply on the wall whilst
the one time early riser lies comfortably in bed cherishing the
formula by which he grows sturdier and more Spartan in every way.
Instead of Sandow we have Pelman, and this will spread to the schools.
Enterprising teachers graphically plot the progress of their pupils
upon the wall. Small boys will exhibit their I.Q.s and scorn a display
of biceps. If Alec Waugh continues to write about it, the change may
reach the Public Schools. Again, it is the work of the printing press
which is at last beginning to tell. Anagrams and intellectual puzzles
of all kinds have existed for the few from ages immemorial, but in the
cross-word puzzle the principle is finding a wider appeal.
Lastly, the final blow to sport and to our British system of thought
built up upon it will come from the industrial field. Industrial
psychology will undermine it by eliminating its fundamental function.
The forms of sport with which we are most familiar arise chiefly
as a reaction against sedentary and ill-planned occupations.
Scientifically organized labour of the future will exhibit more
variety and give fuller expression to the many-sidedness of man.
Excessive specialization of the individual in his work has produced an
artificial differentiation in the arrangement of his life, of which the
distinction of work and play is the most glaring example.
With the outgrowing of sport, or, more strictly, with the blending
of work and play man will apply himself to tasks commensurate with
his powers. Dimly we begin to see what these tasks will be. The task
of government, complex as it may be, will be less difficult in many
respects than it is to-day. The danger of revolution should be only
a remote contingency. The stability of a society ultimately depends
inversely upon the prevalence of nepotism. A government of the
efficient and the talented equipped with scientific knowledge would be
impregnable. It matters not that men are mostly irrational so long
as the rational have the power to rule. The irrationality of the rest
is subject to uniform law, which, understood, can be brought within
control. But the temptation to the ruler to hand on the reins of power
to the inefficient with whom he has emotional ties of paternity or
friendship is almost irresistible. The difficulty, however, is not
insuperable. Some form of “Socialism”, which started all at equality
and promoted to power according to ability, gauged quasi-mechanically
by mental and vocational tests, would be a partial safeguard. Moreover,
in a compact ruling class a kind of family moral tradition might
emerge. This would be reinforced by the common-sense recognition of
the dangers of promoting the inefficient on a large scale over the
heads of the competent. The obvious effect of such promotion is, in the
long run, revolution; and revolutions will probably be recurrent until
the lesson has been learnt.
VI
And will these god-like beings with their infinite wealth and power,
in their perfect rationality, be any happier or even morally better
creatures than ourselves?
The formula for happiness is a fairly simple one. Its relative
components form a vulgar fraction. The denominator is constituted
by that towards which we aspire; the numerator is the number of our
achievements. There is a law by which these two vary almost in unison.
Any augmentation of achievement sends up proportionally the number
of our desires, whilst great losses are followed by resignation. It
is just for those fleeting moments in which the balance is disturbed
that we experience bliss or misery. But the moments are very fleeting,
and the normal ratio is restored. Happiness is the carrot before the
donkey’s nose. Therein lies the moral of Tantalus, so grievously
misinterpreted by Dr Schiller. Tantalus is the symbol of human
progress. The only danger is that under Scientific Management man may
see through the trick.
And will he be better then than he is to-day? That, however, is a
question for the moralists of the future to decide.
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.