Mr. Chamberlin is a skilled observer and reporter of economic and political conditions at home and abroad. In addition to writing a number of books, he has lectured widely and is a contributor to The Wall Street Journal and numerous magazines.
This is the Christmas season, when stockings are being filled, cards of greeting fill the mails, and young and old alike are cheered by presents. It is a thoroughly delightful time of the year. But one need not be a Scrooge to realize that the Christmas spirit is not a formula for carrying on the activities of the workaday world. Individuals and nations alike must earn their way in the world. There is no Santa Claus with a boundless overflowing sack of presents.
These ideas might seem fairly obvious. But they are worth stating because it is rather the fashion in current thinking to assume that, if enough money can be extracted from taxpayers who are still solvent to "give" housing, education, and other supposedly withheld benefits to the "underprivileged" at home—and steel mills, power plants, and other aids to industrialization to impoverished nations abroad—all will be for the best in the world. What is overlooked in this outwardly benevolent view is the indispensable human dynamo of individual initiative and ambition.
When New York and a number of other Northern cities were torn up with senseless and disgraceful riots in slum areas, these outbreaks were condoned on the ground that the rioters were protesting against proper standards of education and housing which had supposedly been "withheld" from them. But no one, to the best of my knowledge, undertook a serious study to determine whether those who were most active in assaulting policemen and looting liquor and other stores had made an earnest effort to make good use of the educational facilities which were offered to them. The best educational methods and plant imaginable are of little use without cooperation from those who are supposed to benefit from them. Education is not something that can be poured into every individual, as milk can be poured into any bottle.
And public disorder is a singularly self-defeating means of opening up employment opportunities. The most charitable and broadminded employer might be expected to wince if a job applicant offered as part of his qualifications the information that he had hit half a dozen police officers with bottles and other missiles and carried off loot from as many stores.
The Will to Succeed
To emphasize, as much current talk and writing does, the supposed necessity of giving without any emphasis on the concurrent obligation of earning, is to put the cart before the horse. The most hopeful soldiers in the war on poverty are individuals who are determined to escape and overcome it, who have imbibed the spirit of Scarlett O’Hara, heroine of Gone with the Wind. As she grubs for bare subsistence in the devastated fields of her ruined plantation, she makes the vow: "I’ll never be poor again."
Scarlett O’Hara’s spirit was, in the main, that of some ten or twelve million dispossessed and uprooted Germans and people of German origin, driven from their homes at the end of the war and dumped in the German Federal Republic with nothing but what they wore on their backs and carried in their hands. At first the special distress of this large group of forced immigrants seemed an almost insurmountable social problem for a country devastated by war bombing and suffering all the other consequences of a lost war.
A special party with the name, "Union of the Dispossessed and Homeless," was formed to promote the interests of the refugees, obliged to start from scratch in a state of destitution which few Americans could match. But in the majority these refugees, their ranks later swelled by millions, who fled from communist-ruled East Germany before the Berlin Wall was erected in 1961, were hardworking, thrifty persons, passionately determined to win back what had been swept away from them. Before long it became evident that they were an asset, not a liability, in a reviving Germany desperately short of manpower because of war losses. Their fierce drive made them pacemakers for the rest of the Germans in the reconstruction and expansion of the national economy. Today the refugees are so completely absorbed in German life that they require no special political or other representation. And this genuine miracle of rehabilitation, the productive resettlement in a crowded country of over ten million new inhabitants, was accomplished without government direction and regimentation. Government departments gave what help and advice they could, but left the refugees free to seek their fortune as they chose.
It is a failure of judgment and emphasis to place the giving of this or that facility or advantage ahead of the will and determination of the individual to make full use of his opportunities. One need only recall the case of an American whose early educational and housing conditions would have shocked the tender-hearted social worker of the present time. He grew up in the roughest kind of pioneer, log-cabin circumstances; his schooling was simple; books in his home were few.
Yet he rose to the highest office in the land, steered the nation through a great war, and became the author of some of the most beautifully cadenced prose passages in the English language. His name, of course, was Abraham Lincoln. Personalities like Lincoln are rare in any age or country. But no exhaustive research would be needed to turn up thousands of instances of men and women who emerged from early poverty to achieve business or professional success and who look back on their early years of hardship as a useful apprenticeship in self-discipline and character building.
Marx and Freud
The emphasis on "giving" (by a state that can only "give" by taking away from someone else) as opposed to earning by individual effort is part of a general decline in the sense of individual moral responsibility. This may be traced in considerable degree to the influence of two European theorists, Karl Marx and Sigmund Freud. The interests of these men lay in quite different fields. But the logical conclusion of their beliefs is that man is not a morally free agent, able and obligated to choose between right and wrong, between good and evil.
In Marx’s view of the world the overshadowing issue is the class struggle between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, which is predestined to end in the triumph of the latter and the establishment of a socialist or communist form of society. Besides being a dogmatic atheist, Marx—like his politically most successful disciples, Lenin and Mao Tse-tung—brushed aside moral ideas as fictions of the capitalist class, designed to justify the enslavement of the workers. The Marxist philosophy is deeply suffused with the conviction that human character and human action are primarily determined by class relations.
Freud’s theory of psychoanalysis leads to the same conclusion, that man is incapable of exercising free will in moral judgment, by a different road. For, according to Freud, the subconscious impulses, over which the human being has no control, tend to dominate his character. Another Freudian teaching is that all experiences in the first phase of childhood are of the greatest importance and, in combination with the individual’s inherited sex constitution, are decisive in shaping character.
Of course, comparatively few Americans possess a firm grasp of Marxist economics and of the principles of Freudian psychoanalysis. Marx and Freud use technical language and can hardly be described as "easy reading." But, with the aid of popularization, both have considerably influenced the intellectual climate of the time—and in a direction adverse to individual responsibility.
Overemphasis on Government
This determinist view of human character leads to an exaggerated conception of the supreme importance of environment, to the view of the individual as a kind of inanimate vessel, into which some beneficent state authority should pour given doses of education and welfare. Yet everyday experience provides constant refutation of this view.
Take two boys, perhaps members of the same family, who grow up in the same environment in a big city. One joins a corner gang and becomes first a juvenile delinquent, then a full-fledged criminal. The other gets a job, studies law at night, and finally emerges completely from his original bleak and obscure surroundings. The harsh environment to which one succumbs is a spur and stimulus to the other. In neither case is the result predestined; it is a matter of individual character and will.
There was a time when what is now called juvenile delinquency would have been designated by a shorter and blunter term and would have been left to the disciplinary action of the parent or, in more serious cases, to the police, with little consideration for the "psychic scars" which swift and appropriate punishment might have left. Now there are platoons of psychiatrists and battalions of social workers to coddle the juvenile who goes astray. No matter how much pain to innocent people and damage to property he may cause, we are taught to look on him not as a ruffian who will be better for some exemplary punishment, but as a warped and rejected personality, a victim of his "underprivileged environment," his disturbed inner complexes, or some such jargon.
Subsidized Crime
But what has been the practical result of the softening or abandonment of the principle of individual responsibility in dealing with criminals, regardless of age? As J. Edgar Hoover, with his knowledge of the facts and statistics frequently reminds us, crime is increasing at an appalling rate, out of all proportion to the growth of the population.
Slums have long been associated in the public imagination with vice and crime, and optimists have held forth the prospect that, once slum dwellers are rehoused in better quarters, their bad habits will automatically disappear. Here again, experience shows that the problem is more complicated. A mere look around in any large city shows an enormous number of rehousing projects, mostly financed by public funds. Modern technology makes it easy to demolish old rickety buildings and put up brick apartment houses with all conveniences. But all too often these apartment houses become notorious as headquarters of gangs and centers of vice, places into which doctors, postmen, and others on legitimate errands fear, with some reason, to enter. It seems just possible that it is not so much slums that make people as people who make slums.
Better education and technical training facilities are certainly desirable objectives in themselves. It may be hoped that as these become more available in areas of widespread unemployment some tangible results in the struggle against poverty will be observed. But the best tools will be useless unless there is a will to use them. Plans that take no account of the necessity to spark, in their beneficiaries, the human dynamo, the will to overcome obstacles, to succeed, are built on sand.
How to spark this dynamo where it is nonexistent is a problem more difficult and complex than the erection of new housing projects, the provision of school supplies, machines, work benches.
But without the vital, indispensable impulse from within the individual, too often ignored or treated as negligible by social planners, no amount of merely material effort can be counted on to yield permanent satisfactory fruits.
Operation "Backfire"
The same considerations, in a different sphere, apply to the new and unprecedented policy, mainly practiced by the United States, of allocating taxpayers’ money to relieve distress and promote industrial and economic development in foreign countries. In the past, compassionate individuals and organizations raised funds to help the victims of famines, floods, earthquakes, and other natural disasters. And private investment took care of the development problem.
Despite an outflow of over $100 billion in various forms of uncompensated American largesse to foreign lands, it is by no means certain that the new method is more effective than the old, still less that America’s foreign policy aims and the stability of the more or less free world would collapse if it were not for the annual foreign aid charge in the United States budget. Some indisputable facts suggest that the will of a people to produce energetically and effectively is much more important for their well-being than a large inflow of government-to -government aid.
Finland, for example, received no postwar American aid and was saddled with a substantial Soviet indemnity bill. Yet the Finns, by and large, are enjoying their traditional tidy, modest, but fairly comfortable standard of living. India, by contrast, has received over two billion dollars’ worth of American aid, plus smaller amounts from the Soviet Union and Great Britain. Yet, there has scarcely been an appreciable dent in India’s age-old poverty.
Indeed, one of India’s most respected economists, Professor B. R. Shenoy, is convinced that the American so-called aid has encouraged the Indian government planners to push on with what Shenoy regards as the disastrous policy of concentrating capital investment on industrial plants too big for India’s present needs, while neglecting the agriculture which is the main source of livelihood for most of the Indian people. Several years ago, at a meeting of the Mt. Pelerin Society, an international organization of economists, political scientists, and others committed to the ideal of a free economy, Shenoy elicited a warm round of applause by declaring:
"What India needs is not American dollars. It is the spirit of the Mt. Pelerin Society."
Nothing that has happened in the last few years has altered his conviction; he is equipped with a formidable array of facts and figures to prove that the Indian living standard has been languishing under a regime of state planning. At the last meeting of the Mt. Pelerin Society, at Semmering, near Vienna, the international nature of this problem of the government planned economy was emphasized by a comment which I overheard in a corridor. Shenoy had just completed a very critical exposition of the corruption, maladministration, and misdirection of resources which have accompanied state planning of the economy in India. A representative from Ecuador remarked: "And this is the system they want to force on us in Latin America—through the Alliance for Progress."
It is a proved illusion that friends can be bought through lavish programs of foreign aid. The good will that may be won by an individual American who goes out on his own and does pioneer work as teacher, physician, engineer, is seldom carried over to bureaucratic dispensers of state aid. The sequel to foreign aid is often carping criticism of what has been done—and insistent demands for more.
By and large, individuals and nations usually obtain the standard of well-being which they earn by hard, intelligent, efficient work. Attempts to enhance this standard through handouts, whether of the welfare state at home or of government-to-government assistance abroad, lead to more disillusionment than success.
***
The Law of Nature
This law of nature, being coeval with mankind and dictated by God himself, is of course superior in obligation to any other. It is binding over all the globe, and all countries, and at all times: no human laws are of any validity if contrary to this; and such of them as are valid derive all their force, and all their authority, mediately or immediately from this original.
SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE, Commentaries on the Laws of England (1765)