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( Originally Published 1922 ) It is possible to summarize the results of the fore-going very briefly. At all levels of culture certain of man's activities have excited his wonder and called for an explanation. The acts which seem to arouse this wonder most often are the acts that seem to be beyond the natural powers of man, i. e., the activities which cannot be adequately explained in terms of the experience and natural powers of the individual. Such activities require an explanation. This requirement for the primitive was satisfied by a world of spirits and other hidden forces that stood ever ready to provide an explanation for any phenomenon. When the world of spirits gave place to a world ruled by God, explanations of strange activities were no longer regarded as due to an influence from a spirit, or as an impression from an ancestor. For such influences and impressions were substituted influences and impressions from God. Thus the strange and wonderful behavior of lower animals got a ready ex-planation in the assertion: "God, Himself, is the soul of brutes." A somewhat similar explanation was given for the sublimity of the moral laws of man and for the existence of certain of his innate ideas. In such ways all difficulties of accounting for activities that seemed beyond the capacity of man were solved. More than this, the activities that man performed, which were beyond his capacities, were valued as an indication and evidence of the controlling hand of Deity in all his works and it was regarded as impiety to question this dictum of faith. The problem has slightly shifted for the evolutionist. It is no longer felt that man acts beyond his capacities. Whatever man does, it is held, he must have the capacity of doing. Consequently, his activities are no longer regarded as determined by impressions from a transcendental source. But in closing the door on such explanations, the need is felt all the more keenly of accounting for the existence of the marvellous capacities in virtue of which man is able to act as he does. The problem now is to account for the fact that man possesses the capacities and tendencies to act as he does. To account for this appeals are made to phylogeny. Here a supply of explanations for the existence of capacities and tendencies is furnished that is no less ample than the supply of explanations furnished, by the spirit world of the primitive. The behavior of the individual, no matter how strange and irrational, becomes for many writers perfectly intelligible when viewed from the history of the species for the tendency which gave rise to the observed act is the result of the rational behavior of the species to conditions of living under which it evolved. At first glance it may seem that the modern interpretation of behavior is a considerable advance over primitive explanations. For surely it is better to ac-count for one's activities as the result of one's own capacities and tendencies than as the result of capacities and tendencies of spirits and other hidden entities. No doubt interpretations of the latter sort are absolutely undesirable, for they not only fail to make behavior intelligible by this transference of the problems of psychology to a sort of psychology of spirits, but they tend to make life miserable for man by filling him with superstitious fears of all kinds. In spite of this, however, there are certain features of the explanations of the primitive that might serve to teach us a lesson. The primitive recognized in an unmistakable way that the activities of man are not always within his capacities or the results of powers purely his own. He recognized that man is profoundly influenced by a power and force external to the individual. Man's activities cannot be regarded as due to his capacities unless we mean by capacity that vague and indefinite conception capacity to be affected. The primitive was right in so far as he held that the behavior of man in many cases is to be interpreted in terms of a power affecting man, or in terms of the actualizer of the capacity, rather than in terms of a capacity to be affected. The modern writer in his emphasis on the fact that whatever man does is within his capacity, and his desire to avoid in his explanations all trace of the supernatural, has tended to view the behavior of man as interpretable in terms of the capacities and innate tendencies of man. No doubt man could not act as he does unless he had the capacity to be affected so that he acts as he does. It is this truth that is today over-emphasized, and which tends to cause us to view behavior as the mere unfolding of innate characters or capacities as if time alone were necessary for the realization of a capacity. The primitive man emphasized the other side of the activity, and frankly considered behavior at times as being beyond the capacity of man. His explanations were full of errors. But his mistakes did not lie in the emphasis put on the necessity of an actualizer or an influence and power which must make concrete and effective the mass of capacities. His great mistake was made in regard to the source of the influences and powers. For in reality man's behavior is not the result of his innate capacities, but of the influences that are brought to bear on these capacities, and which are necessary to make capacities definite and effective. More than this, the behavior of man at times seems to lie beyond his capacities, for within him at times is the collective strength of the group and the power of an inspiring ideal. He thus transcends the limits of time and space, and as a consequence he feels an intensification of life, which ennobles him and gives him a power that he does not ordinarily possess and which cannot be regarded as wholly his own. The necessity of an actualizer is, in many cases, overlooked. No doubt, as I have said, the moments of inspiration just referred to could not be experienced unless man had the capacity of experiencing them. But this obvious truth is not very illuminating. It is more profitable to know the facts that bring about such moments of inspiration than to know that man has the capacity to be inspired. Modern writers not only neglect this, but through their emphasis on innate capacities they make these latter such realities that their existence requires an explanation. Numerous hypotheses are advanced. They are regarded as vital forces, functional correlatives of structure, or as habits of the species. This last may be regarded as an effort to explain our behavior in terms of conditions that affected our ancestors rather than in terms of conditions that affect us. Criticism of this effort has occupied a large part of this essay, but in reality the criticism can be briefly stated. In fact, it is possible to reduce it to the di-lemma: Either the behavior in the individual is caused by the same conditions that aroused the behavior in his ancestors, or it is not. If it is caused by the same conditions, there is no need to make an appeal to phylogeny. If it is not caused by the same conditions, it is hard to understand how the behavior of remote ancestors under one set of conditions can be used as an explanation of the behavior of the individual under another set of conditions. In spite of all difficulties, however, it is popular to attempt to account for the individual's behavior in terms of similar behavior on the part of his ancestors. At other times the behavior of the ancestors is used as an explanation of different behavior in the individual. But no adequate account has yet been given of the process of sublimation, or of the factors deter-mining the process by which an activity, like hunting, for example, can be used to account for an activity so different from hunting as teasing. Such explanations have in common with primitive explanations an appeal from the unknown to the yet more unknown. There is another similarity. The activities which the primitive regards as due to impressions from an ancestor or spirit are regarded as being of greater merit than ordinary acts. The modern, likewise, regards the activities which are interpreted in terms of the experience of the race as being of greater worth and value than the activities that seem adequately accounted for in terms of the individual's experience. It is not necessary to recount the history of the sources of the sanction of instinct before evolutionary thought became generally accepted. It is only necessary to remind the reader that instinct before Darwin was deeply dyed in religious feeling, and was regarded as a guaranty of the moral worth and the personality of man. To this popular regard for the instinctive, science and philosophy have added a powerful sanction through the conception of instinct as the best that has survived of the past, and the genuine admiration ex-pressed regarding the workings of pure instinct as found in the insects. As a consequence, writers from the evolutionary point of view have placed great emphasis on the necessity or advisability of allowing the innate tendencies, or instincts, free and unimpeded expression. It is only in this way, many tell us, that we can hope to realize that well-developed and complete life for which we have been so admirably suited by the supply of instincts and capacities which the evolutionary process has given us. Thus, religion, popular philosophy, and science have united to throw around the instinctive a sanction which gives justification to any activity--provided it is an expression of an instinct. It is this tendency to evaluate an activity as an expression of an instinct, rather than in terms of its consequences, that causes the use of instinct as a sanction to share the evils found in all categorical imperatives or commands that are obeyed irrespective of their consequences. In addition to the evil that is common to all sanctions, the use of instinct as a sanction is especially undesirable, for instead of being an expression of what may be regarded as the highest moral feelings of the age, the use of instinct is too often a mere exalting of characters that are common to man and the higher animals. Their ambiguity and indefiniteness are also a source of evil. For though they are ambiguous, and no one seems to know just how they should function, it is urged generally that they should function in a natural manner. This lack of definiteness and the importance that is attached to their expression give complete justification to the democratic man of Plato in satisfying his every whim. More serious yet, through the exalting of the innate and the individual, we have been led to regard all the evils of society as due to the thwarting of the innate and to condemn society for practising such repressions. As a consequence of this there is little inclination to consider the duties of the individual to the state. It is more popular to exalt the assertion of individual-ism and egoism in the fatuous belief that nature has provided us with a mass of ready-made tendencies and impulses which need only to be released for us to live most satisfactorily. This belief rests on the assumption that only those impulses and tendencies which have abundantly shown their fitness as moral guides through the fact that they have survived in the long evolutionary process are inherited. The unfit, it is held, have been eliminated. In regard to this, it should be pointed out that granting that the instincts of our ancestors were formerly of use, this is not proof that they are of use to-day. As a matter of fact, for an instinct to survive it need never have been of use. Tendencies may persist even though they are harmful. It is only necessary that they be not sufficiently harmful to bring about the extinction of the species. Therefore there is no reason to suppose that because an activity is an expression of an instinct that it is good. There is even less reason to suppose that the natural expression of an instinct is good, for it is reasonable to suppose that a good expression of an instinct will be more likely found within all the possible modes of expression than in the one natural way. This becomes apparent when it is recalled that the natural response may be a disastrous one, as, for example, the flying of the moth to the flame. The criticisms that I have directed against instinct as a sanction were more far-reaching than the above, for I have denied the assumptions on which the sanction is built. Man does not inherit a mass of impulses as the result of the experiences of his ancestors. Nor can his behavior be so interpreted, or interpreted in terms of innate characters, no matter how acquired. His behavior can be interpreted only in terms of the varying relations that obtain between the individual and his environment. Man is by nature active. The particular form of activity is always interpretable in terms of the variable factors that go to make up the total situation in which his activity occurs, namely, the structure, physiological condition, and experience of the individual and the exciting stimuli. In interpreting behavior in this way the difficulties involved in accounting for the existence of the specific innate impulses are avoided. In fact, such impulses are found to be quite unnecessary; for if it be granted that they exist, it is necessary in every case of their effectiveness that they be actualized by affecting conditions before they can become efficient or influence the behavior. More than this, the nature of the actualized force and its expression bears such a striking relation to the variable factors that actualized it that the force or impulse as an innate character may well be neglected. For these reasons I have held that they should be regarded as accompaniments of activity rather than as forces in terms of which behavior can be explained, and that behavior can be explained only in terms of the exciting stimuli and the nature of the organism. In explanations of this sort there is no use for a store of "mystic potencies" to connect various stimuli with a multitude of diverse responses. When behavior is so understood, we have no difficulty in understanding the adaptability of man and the diversity of his moral emotions and impulses; for it is as the result of activities that we experience emotions and impulses, rather than the reverse. It is as a result of the situation in which the individual is placed that he comes to possess a certain emotion. It is not meant by this that the same situation will arouse the same emotion or impulse in every one. The same stimuli will not arouse in the same individual at all times the same emotion. What is meant is that all emotions and impulses are definite emotions and impulses which have resulted from the total situation in which they are experienced. If impulses and emotions are regarded in this way, we have no difficulty in agreeing with Westermarck that the moral judgments are based on the emotions, and at the same time we are able to give adequate recognition to the rôle of custom in determining the moral ideas and judgments. For the emotions are not innate characters that determine the judgment of the individual. They are rather products of activity and vary with activity. That they should be regarded in this way is sufficiently shown by the difficulties that confront us in accounting for the diversity of moral ideas within the same race if moral ideas are regarded as expressions of innate characters. These difficulties disappear immediately when we recognize that it is as a result of activities that emotions are born, and that the nature of the activity is largely determined by the customs and culture of the group. Hence, customs are not founded on the emotions, as Westermarck holds. It is rather true that the customary becomes an integral part of our personality, and when the customary is violated, there is aroused an emotional opposition, simply because we feel that our own characters, as built up by our habits and sentiments, are violated. Customs, then, not only determine what we judge moral and immoral, but they determine in a large way the emotions, which lie as a basis to the judgment. It is in this way that we ac-count for the fact generally recognized that the moral ideas of an individual are reflections of the moral ideas of the community in which he lives. If the activities of an organism are determined by the relations of the organism to its environment, and if out of activities so determined are born our impulses and emotions, it follows that the psychological assumptions on which the sanction of instinct is based are groundless. Hence, conservatives need not attempt to justify the existing as an expression of instinct. Nor need radicals attempt to condemn it because it re-presses instinct. Institutions and culture are not to be explained as expressions or repressions of instinct, for culture is not built on the restraint or release of instinct. Institutions are neither expressions nor repressions of original nature. They are the responses original nature has made when confronted with certain conditions. Given one set of conditions, we have one set of institutions and customs; given another set of conditions, and we have different institutions. There need, then, be no fear that our culture is getting far removed from our original nature. There is no reason to regard our culture as less securely built on original nature than the most primitive. Our culture, like all cultures, no matter how primitive, is determined by the give-and-take relations of the group to its environment. Changes in these relations have brought about changes in culture and institutions. The conservative, therefore, who sits back in the calm assurance that our institutions are securely rooted in human nature might well get from this a lesson of caution, which should become deeply impressed on him by observation of the great diversity of institutions to which original nature may become accustomed and which it may enjoy. Nevertheless, in so far as he has the welfare of his group at heart, instead of institutions, he may find comfort in the truth pointed out by Sumner, that while our institutions change in an endless flux, they change so as to satisfy to a greater extent human needs and wishes. Neither should the radical condemn society for re-pressing the innate, for the innate turns out to consist more in the capacity to be affected than in drives of a definite character. Drives of a definite character, impulses, and emotions are the acquisitions of the individual, that are determined largely by the nature of the society in which he is reared. The repressions are then the repressions of social products rather than of innate characters. One should not infer from this that no repression is evil, for the evil of repression is not dependent on the fact that the repression is the repression of an innate character. The repression is none the less real, and at times none the less disastrous, because it is the repression of a social contribution. On the other hand, many repressions are desirable. It may, therefore, be asked, does society make contributions or bring to light impulses which should be crushed? In a sense it does. Society, however, is not to be condemned altogether for this; for in many cases such repressions are the liabilities of a rich culture. The richer the culture the more likely repressions of this nature will occur, since it is in such cultures that incompatible contributions are most frequently made. If an individual, for example, is placed in a simple environment, in which few capacities are actualized, he should be comparatively free from all repressions. But in a society of a rich culture, in which many contributions are offered the individual, some of which are incompatible with others, repressions become almost inevitable, for in such a society it becomes increasingly difficult to integrate all interests and desires into a well rounded personality. Yet unless this is done, repressions become inevitable. Society should, there-fore, not be condemned on account of the repressions that are practised in it; for repressions are conflicts waged between social products of a contradictory nature. It is for one social contribution that we repress another. This is admirably illustrated by the young Iady of Puritanical training Holt speaks of in The Freudian Wish.* This young lady on going to the city is attracted to the theatre. From her friends she learns that it is an attractive place. She wishes to go all the more because she is afraid if she does not she will be regarded as an outsider by her new friends, whom she naturally wishes to cultivate. The theatre, therefore, in spite of the fact that she has been taught to regard it as a wicked place, exerts a strong attraction. On the other hand, her ideas of morality early acquired exert a profound influence. She thus becomes tormented with conflicting desires. She wishes to go. At the same time she cannot forsake the early acquired ideals of purity and godliness that give a deep color to her ideals of morality and values. If she goes to the theatre, thinking it wrong, her past training and the values of a pure life are repressed. If she stays away, the desire to go is repressed. A repression of one or the other becomes necessary. This conflict is clearly one between social contributions. Her ideals of a good life, her fears of the consequences of an evil one, have been provided in her early training determined by the society in which she lived. Likewise, the theatre is a social contribution. The conflict that is waged is thus between social products —religious training and the theatre. There is not here a conflict between original impulses or emotions and society. Nor is it a matter of expressing one innate tendency and repressing another. The impulses are not pent up in the organism awaiting an opportunity for expression denied by a repressive society. The conflict is between two sets of values given by society. The repression comes from inability to integrate the contributions into a larger whole in which the whole of her personality can find expression. The repressions that have been given great prominence by the work of the psychoanalysts is the repression of the sex impulse. Many sociologists, following this lead, hold that evils of society come largely from this repression, which, contrary to the view just stated, seems clearly a repression of an innate impulse by society. An examination of this conflict, however, fails to show that the repression is the repression of an innate force. It is rather the repression of impulses that are born of and determined by social contacts, and the repression occurs on account of other contributions by society. This position may be regarded as unwarranted, if not positively invalidated, on account of the universality of the sex impulse, its intimate connection with physiological processes, and its persistence. These objections should be examined. In regard to the tendency to regard an impulse as innate because universal, it should be pointed out that universality may be brought about by the world in which man lives and the inevitableness of certain experiences. Universality, then, need not be regarded as proof of innateness. For example, if it should be found that all living beings are at times afraid, this should not be taken as an indication that there is within all organisms a definite mass of the fear impulse awaiting an outlet. It would be simpler to regard this as due to the fact that conditions of living are uncertain for all living beings, who are at times afraid on account of the world of uncertainty and of painful experiences in which they live. In the same way, if all men should work, this should not be taken as proof of the daim that within man there is a definite impulse to work. It may as well be taken as indicating that man lives in a world in which work is necessary. The universality of the sex impulse should be regarded in the same way. Its universality does not in dicate necessarily the existence of a sex impulse that exists irrespective of the situations the individual faces, or has faced. It may as well be taken as indicating the fact that the experiences out of which the impulse is born are so many and so wide-spread that every individual in his career encounters them. That the universality could easily be caused in this way be-comes apparent from a consideration of the many stimuli that arouse the impulse. According to Freud, children hold in their systems as long as possible waste matter in order that in voiding it they may experience a sort of friction which gives sexual pleasure. Freud seems to regard this as due to the promptings of the sex urge. Perhaps it is, after the pleasure has been experienced. But experience of this pleasure must have preceded knowledge of the pleasure; for no one would endow the child with foreknowledge of the effect of holding back waste matter. After the pleasure is experienced on account of chance conditions, it may be persisted in for the reason that Freud gives. If this be true, then it becomes clear that the sex impulse comes into existence at the very dawn of life as a result of purely physiological processes affected by certain chance conditions. It is also quite possible that the impulse is early aroused in infants as the result of friction that is necessarily involved in the care of the infant. Think also of the inevitableness of variation in the temperature of certain parts of the body and the effect of this on the sex impulse. Think also of the influence of older boys and girls, and even men and women, on the young. Think of the insinuations and suggestions regarding the delights of sex presented on all occasions. It is out of these experiences that the sex impulse is born. Similarly, out of the experiences of the individual are born the forces which contend with the sex impulse for mastery. The disapprobation shown by parents and teachers of anything suggestive of sex deeply affects the child. Ideals of chastity are impressed on all by the group morality. It is on account of attitudes and values so impressed that the individual fights against his sex impulse. It is because these experiences are the normal experiences of the individual that their rôle is unappreciated. It is only when abnormal experience deeply affects the character of the individual that the rôle of experience is properly appreciated. It is because it is abnormal for aphids to be reared on the salts of magnesia and sugar that we recognize the importance of this diet in the formation of its wings. If it had been the normal diet, we would never have recognized it as the determining factor in the aphid's wings. Perhaps other foods would have been regarded as responsible for the development of such abnormal creatures as wingless aphids. The same method of thinking is characteristic of our attitude regarding the rôle played by the psychological development of man. If certain experiences inevitably occur, and as a result all individuals possess a certain trait, the rôle of the experience is neglected, and the trait is regarded as an unfolding or expression of an innate character. Thus, because the experiences which bring about the sex conflict are the normal experiences, they are neglected. If, however, an individual should escape these experiences, and as a result should have an abnormal sex life, we would not hesitate to regard the abnormality as due to his abnormal experiences. We would not assume that his innate characters were different from those of normal people. Why then do we hesitate to regard the sex conflict that results when an individual is subjected to normal conditions as due to the normal conditions? That normal sex life should be regarded as due to a normal psychological development acquires consider-able plausibility from a consideration of sex aberrations induced by an abnormal environment. For homosexualism in both man and lower animals seems beyond doubt the result of abnormal environmental conditions rather than the result of an innate character making for this abnormality. For example, it should be recalled that male pigeons that are raised with males only are attracted at mating season to the males, which they treat as females. On the other hand, if a male pigeon is raised with females only, at mating season it is attracted to males, but will act the part of a female. This latter principle seems to have been observed by the Eskimos, for they use it in inducing effeminate boys to become homosexualists. If abnormal sex manifestations can thus be abundantly shown to be due to abnormal experiences, there is no good reason to hesitate in assuming that the normal sex life of the individual is the result of the normal experiences in his career. It is here as Brooks points out regarding the normal coloring of certain insects. The "normal" coloring, he holds, may well be due to "normal feeding and temperature." * This is but an illustration of the views commonly held by biologists. The "normal" is the result of a "normal" structure acting in a "normal" situation. Hence, if either is changed, the product becomes "abnormal." So it is with the sex impulse of an individual. If the individual begins his career with a normal structure, and is subjected to normal influences, he will re-act in the usual manner, and the usual impulses and emotions will be experienced. But the fact that the "normal" stimuli are the ones that are usually presented, and the consequent fact that the response is usually a "normal" response, should not cause us to regard the "normal" response as any more inherent in original nature than the "abnormal"; for whatever the response may be it is the natural or normal response for original nature to make, given the antecedent and exciting conditions. When the sex impulse is so regarded, we have no difficulty in seeing that it, like all other interests and impulses, arises as the result of the experiences of the individual, and is to be regarded as such rather than the experiences regarded as the result of the impulse. When once, however, the impulse has come into existence it may persist and lend coloring to future activities. Yet the persistency and permanency of the impulse are not to be taken as indications that the impulse is an innate store of energy manifesting itself in various ways. The persistence and permanence of the impulse, like its universality, may better be regarded as due to the number of exciting stimuli, and the pleasure that accompanies the excitation. As a result of the pleasure attending the excitation, there are in the mind various ideas and suggestions capable of producing it. The mind, in brief, may be regarded as carrying with it the stimuli necessary for its arousal. It is the persistence of the mass of stimuli that accounts for the persistence of the impulse. In this the sex impulse is not different from other impulses. Who has not experienced shame on remembering a humiliating situation? Likewise, anger and the pugnacious instinct are often aroused by memory of an insult or by insinuations in the same way that other memories and insinuations may arouse the sex impulse. The intimate connection between the sex impulse and the secretions of certain glands may be regarded as invalidating the above position. Yet it need not. It is true that there are certain internal secretions, among which are secretions from the sex organs, which flow irrespective, it seems, of the physiological condition of the organism or external stimulation. It would seem, therefore, that these processes may well be regarded as due to the structure of the organism rather than to the experiences of the organism. This is no doubt true. But this flow need not give rise necessarily to the sex impulse. Indeed, the relation of the sex impulse to the flow of secretions is like the relation of other impulses to the flow of secretions. Thus, for example, when the pugnacious impulse is excited the flow of certain secretions increases, and the organism is prepared for the matter in hand. But the activity cannot be regarded as a result of the flow of secretions. This latter is simply one aspect of the organism's activity determined by variable conditions. Likewise, when the sex impulse is aroused the flow of certain secretions may be affected. But the flow of secretion is not the cause of the impulse, for an excess of secretion may be relieved without the arousal of the impulse. The impulse is the result of various experiences the organism has undergone, and when it is experienced there are brought into existence new stimuli for arousing a greater activity in the physiological processes, which, at the same time, acquires a definiteness and orientation which give to it much of its color and force. There are, then, no valid objections to the thesis that the sex conflict is a conflict of social contributions on account of the universality, permanency, or physiological basis of the sex impulse. On the other hand, the great variation in the strength and expression of the impulse should cause us to see that the impulse is a product of the experiences of the individual, generated out of certain very definite situations. Yet this variation is commonly regarded as due to the fact that part of the strength is drained off into other forms of activity. But is there a store of energy that expresses it-self in various ways? And by what means do such transformations take place? If we assume that there is a store of energy of various kinds manifesting itself in various ways, then we should expect that following periods of great emotional excitement there should be periods of great lassitude. Yet this is not true. A nation that has been at a high tension of excitement does not find it easy to settle down. The same is true of the individual. Excitement feeds on excitement. We should not expect, therefore, the rustic to possess a greater store of psychic energy simply because his energy has not been drained off than the man who lives in a complex environment and on whom constant demands for nervous energy are being made. The reverse is rather true. The rustic does not have the stimuli that are necessary to bring into existence various tensions and thus nervous energy. As a consequence he leads a dull, monotonous life at a very low level. His emotions have not been supplied with the stuff on which they feed. The man in a complex environment has had many demands made on him, but his psychic energy is kept at a high tension for this very reason. We thus come back to the truth stated by Aristotle: "A man becomes brave by doing brave deeds." It therefore seems unreasonable to hold that there is a mass of energy existing independently of the various situations in which energy may be expressed, or to hold that this energy may be drained off in various channels. It seems more reasonable to hold that the factors, that are at all events necessary to bring about the variation in the expression of the energy, are the real sources and creators of the energy that is expressed. We would thus have a clear explanation of the great variations in the strength of an impulse following changes in the interests and environment of the individual. Under this view it is natural that the strength of the sex impulse should vary with the amount of interest shown sex stimuli, for it is out of such concrete experiences that the impulse is born. The changes in its expression, therefore, should not be regarded as a result of changes in a constant force within the organism. There is not a force of this sort within one. The truth of this should be obvious if we only reflect on the commonly observed variations in the strength of the impulse in the same individual following changes in his environment, and on the sex aberrations already referred to. Sex behavior, therefore, presents no exception to the general rule that the behavior of an organism is deter-mined by its structure, experience, and physiological condition, and the exciting factors in the environment. When behavior is so regarded the common error of attributing the evils of society to the repressions of innate tendencies or impulses will become apparent. There is not a mass of such impulses within the individual. All impulses arise as a result of the experience of the individual. What is given innately is a tendency to react in a certain way-provided a certain stimulus is presented. Unless the stimulus is presented, there is no craving or impulse for the activity. Innate tendencies are, therefore, hypothetical. They are capacities that are realized if definite situations are presented. Hence, strange as it may sound, an instinct must be expressed before it can be repressed. If this statement, obvious as it may seem, were generally recognized as true, the old conception of "Natural Rights" would not have been revived on the assumption that the individual comes into this world with a mass of tendencies or impulses longing for expression, and the present emphasis on the right of all capacities to be realized would loose much of its force. The same may be said of educational theories, which emphasize the desirability of following the natural inclination of children. Instead of exalting in this way the innate and contemning the social, we would recognize that social contacts are the real sources of our values, desires, and impulses. We accordingly would recognize that the work of intelligence is so to arrange these contacts that the desires and impulses which we value shall come into existence. We would also recognize that we cannot take a laissez-faire attitude regarding institutions or our values. What we wish we must strive for. What we value we must maintain. It will not do to assume that the perpetuation of our cherished ideals or institutions is guaranteed by their roots in original nature; for original nature has been found to contain many other roots of an opposing nature, which at any time may strangle the roots of our institutions and will, if environmental conditions warrant. The one great difficulty that prevents us from seeing that the behavior of an organism is determined by the conditions that affect it is the need felt of accounting for the fact that there is activity. It is taken almost as axiomatic that if there is activity there must be a force or agency in virtue of which the activity occurs. It is this need that leads to the hypostatization of processes or activities into forces, that are supposed to furnish the motive power for the activity. But such forces need to be accounted for, and it is this necessity that has led to the various appeals to phylogeny. It is the failure to see that these forces arise in the individual's career, as a result of his activities, that causes one to turn to the history of the species to find their origin. We should, however, not feel a need to account for the fact that organisms are active. It is the nature of organisms to be active. What we wish to know are the determinants of the particular acts of an organ-ism, and these we have found to be the structure, physiological condition, and experience of the organ-ism and the confronting situation. There is no need to supplement explanations in these terms with the statement that the activity occurs in virtue of or on account of an instinct. In this connection we should remember that activity is made up of definite acts. When the definite acts are accounted for activity is; for activity separated from activities is a mere abstraction, which has no existence in reality, and hence requires no explanation. Our interpretations of behavior may well be freed, then, from the conception of inherited forces, and our evaluations of conduct from the thought that some acts are the natural expression while others are the unnatural expression of these forces. It should thus become apparent that it is idle to attempt to justify existing conventions, customs, and institutions on the ground that they are rooted in original nature. As far as original nature is concerned, they are merely the chance actualization of innate capacities. Other actualizations might have taken place just as well. The ones that occurred did so on account of the conditions under which original nature happened to be placed. If it had been affected differently, different institutions would have resulted. On the other hand, it is equally idle to condemn existing institutions on the ground that they are counter to original nature, or repressive of innate tendencies. For whatever our activities may be, they are the responses of original nature when influenced in a certain way. We may dislike existing institutions for various reasons, but we must base our dislike on some reason other than the charge that they repress and thwart our instincts, for the only energy or force in behavior is the force that results from the contacts of the individual with his environment, and this force, as a perfectly definite and determinate one, manifests itself always in the one natural way. Instincts thus become the characteristic responses of an organism to certain conditions. To regard the response as determined by innate forces driving us to make the response is to close the avenue of a fruitful study of the true determiners of human behavior, and the possibility of correlating variations in behavior with the variable factors in the environment. In brief, to regard instincts as innate characters within us that determine our activities and evaluations is to make of instinct a blind to our ignorance on one hand and a shade to soften the disheartening glare of problems to be solved on the other. Since our behavior, desires, and impulses are the results of our activities, determined by the give-and-take relations of the individual to his environment, the duty and rôle of intelligence become clear. It is not to sit by in idle leisure in the hope that there is within us a guide fully competent and willing to direct and guide us. Its duty is rather to take an active part in the ordering of our behavior by varying the conditions that confront the individual so that the responses, impulses, and sentiments that are preferred shall dominate the characters of men. |
The Social Philosophy of Instinct: Introduction - The Social Philosophy Of Instinct Historical Orientation Instinct As A Sanction Instinct And Culture Instinct In Psychology Conclusion Of The Social Philosophy Of Instinct |