Larry's Philosophy (III)

III

Convention is the real enemy of youth. Not the convention that prompts one to use the same fork that the hostess is manipulating with such charming ineffectuality, or that necessitates a black butterfly instead of a white bat tie; these are relatively unimportant, and have rather a wholesome effect than otherwise. But the convention of which we should be afraid is the insidious something that causes the endless whispering of the crowd: "Conform! Conform! Join us, and be like us!" Individuality is discouraged, personality is disparaged, ingenuity is criticized, novelty is frowned upon.

For because the trend of a cycle of society is reactionary, each unit of society plays its little part in retarding the march of the progressive. Such units as the family, the social set, the fraternity, the college, the business, the political party, or the church of a man exert their own particular pressures on him to make him conform--be one of them--share their views--preach their doctrines--hold their faiths and creeds--in short, the secret aim of each seems to be to turn out all of its members as nearly alike as possible. As these groups are, to a large degree, successful, the result is an overwhelming majority who have conformed, who are average, and who are thus mediocre.

The average is always mediocre, by definition. Psychology has given us the normal curve, holding true for large numbers of individuals, and the maximum height is always at the fifty-per-cent level, the average, tapering down to the subnormals on one side and the abnormals on the other. So we have this large middle group, this mediocre body, the criterion of dress, ethics, manners, intelligence, morals--at once the teacher and critic of the younger generation, who are taught that the acceptance of social pressures rather than the dodging of them, is the pathway to happiness and success.

Naturally, this control exercised by the majority is not the worst thing happening to the youth of today. A certain amount of convention is absolutely necessary, of course. Because of better living conditions, a higher standard of intelligence, and a code of ethics which is progressing all the time, this mediocre body is rising gradually to a new level, and their control is making for better and finer life--slowly, to be sure, but steadily. The common folk are on the upward trend. There is no question that the mediocre is leveling up the standards of the world, bettering conditions in all walks of life.

But as certain as it is leveling up the lower strata of society, it is leveling down the upper! It seems that the sands of progress are running into a huge glass, piling up to a peak, like a cone; but when the cone is nearly pointed, the sand slips down the sides, and while the average level is raised, the cone has lost its peak. The leveling up is a step in advance; it is in the leveling down that I am chiefly interested.

William McFee struck the keynote when he said: "In any sphere where all start at a prescribed age, as in great universities and public services, there is a tendency to become standardized, to be only one example of a prevalent type. Ambition is coordinated, jealousy is neutralized; and the hot lava flow of individualist passion cools and hardens to an admirable degree of solidity and composure. One's exact contemporaries are around in throngs." There's the evil: the tendency to become standardized, to be only one of a prevalent type.

We need to look no farther than our own college for examples. Within four months after their arrival, nearly all of our fraternity freshmen are wearing the same style of clothes as their fraternity brothers, the same tilt of the hat, the same size cuff on their trousers, the coat collar rolled the same way; one can almost recognize a man's fraternity by his dress. The pity of it is that this conformity doesn't stop with the physical appearance of the men; I merely pointed out that these conditions are commonplaces in the relatively unimportant side of college life; when we consider that in much the same way the mental, the social, the moral attitudes of the group, the situation becomes far graver. Each subject alone requires a treatise, but it is fitting to touch a few of the salient points of each.

The majority of men come to college to learn; they are eager to study, to fit themselves for something, however far off in the haze of unmentioned dreams and aspirations that something may be. But a few months with men who have become somewhat hardened to these finer conceptions will, in most cases, cause a dimming of the ideal, a dropping of standard; the student will find that the prevalent idea of his associates is to get by with as little work as possible. There is little thought of meeting education half way. In many instances the desire to get something for nothing leads to the almost accepted practice of using outside aid in examinations. "Conform," the classroom whispers. "All of us are doing it and it won't hurt you just this once. What you do here will never make any difference to you later on in life. Conform!" --and there is the problem of cribbing.

An interesting problem in psychology is to sit with a group of men and hear the accepted social lion give his opinion on topics like dances and girls. Whether the men around him secretly agree with him or not, they all fall in with his opinion, making it the group opinion, and any contrary voice is promptly hooted down. Society begins early in life to play follow the leader, and the shame of it is that so many of the leaders are those who exercise an unwholesome influence. It is interesting also that the usual critic of a group is the man who sits around doing nothing, and who thus has more time to pass judgment on his associates than his busier mates, who are engaged in constructive work rather than destructive criticism. "Don't do that," he gibes the crowd. "That's a wet bunch to work with. Conform!" --and so we have our problem of extra-curricular activities.

Besides these problems of dress, intellectual laziness and negligence of social responsibilities--and more important--most of the troubles in morals and ethics that arise from this conformance to social pressure. Here the leveling down is helped to such an unfair extent by the natural desires and frailties of human nature, that only the strongest of personalities, the most indomitable of wills, can successfully resist the opinion of the crowd. Ridicule is such a fearful weapon, and men find it so hard to face! "Come on," grins the crowd, "don't think that you're too good for us. Better men than you have done it; come with us tonight--conform, conform!" With fiendish persistence the mediocre exerts its tyrannical pressure--and there we have our most serious problems of intoxication and prostitution.

I have taken examples from college because they are most vital to us now, but the pressures of later life are as monstrous and as persistent. If a man joins a firm and finds himself in the midst of crooked dealings, he is not supposed to impart his knowledge; if an honest man tries to become a virile progressive politician--and a pathetic few are trying for that--he finds his way blocked by those who may lose money if conditions are improved. If a man wants to clean up a college campus, or put a finer type of play on the stage, or innovate fairer business methods, or preach his own interpretation of the truth, he has to buck the wall of conformity, the Great Mediocre, that sits back comfortably and complacently and sneers: "You can't do that while you're with us. We can't have our group open to criticism and ridicule; stay with us and conform, or away with you!" Not so much that they are defending dishonesty, but, as Randolf Bourne says, "It is simply the instinctive reaction of the herd against anything which savours of the unusual. It is the tendency of every social group to resist change."

Apparently few are willing to resist social pressure to expose themselves to the scoring that is sure to follow a definite stand for the individualist theory. Yet when we look to men who have been and are great, we find that in every case they have determined what they wanted to do, have had the courage of their convictions, and then have proceeded to the task, snapping their fingers at conformity and convention. Lincoln did it when he pledged himself to the defense of the Union; Roosevelt did it in his Civil Service Reform program; Wilson did it when half the world was laughing at him. Harry Emerson Fosdick is still preaching and he draws the largest congregations; Fred Stone is still putting on clean plays and he is getting the largest audiences. These men and others are giving the truth as it is in them, and the Great Mediocre, whether it approves or not, is forced to acknowledge its respect!

But it is of no use to criticize existing conditions unless a remedy is suggested, for to break away from the old pressures without a definite objective is obviously as radical and detrimental as accepting them blindly or willingly. So I want to make my plea a plea for personality and individuality. I am not advocating the overthrow of responsibility, but the realization of a greater responsibility to one's self, one's contemporaries, and one's nation.

First, a man must have his eyes open to the pressures exerted on him. If he conforms to the prevailing mode of dress, he must realize that he is conforming, and that all htose who do not are probably as intelligent as himself. He must watch himself to see that he is not being forced into accepting the standards of thought and action of those about him. If he plays the violin, for instance, and dreams of the concert stage, it is entirely permissible for him to make money playing jazz if he realizes that he is conforming for the time being in order to further his training. If he has to stop college because of financial difficulties, it is perfectly proper that he should work at any job to make money only if he sees clearly that he is conforming temporarily so that he can later finish his college education. He must not compromise his conscience.

And as he must see the present clearly, so must he see the future; he must have vision. He must put first things first; see life in its true perspective; have no delusions as to the relative values of things. And if he has a vision, let him keep it sacred and well guarded; if he wants to be a musician or a bricklayer, a painter or a minister, an architect or an ornithologist--in God's name, let him carry on in spite of criticism and ridicule, fitting himself for the task; dreaming, planning, working--dodging the pressures of society.

Let him leave them to their conformities and their conventions; they are impotent and permanently harmless. Let him ignore their scoffing, laugh at their jesting, and set his face toward the problem ahead, keeping his body and mind and soul clean for the conflict. Let him develop into a great personality; for if he continues to work, to think, to love, he may, by the grace of God, become a Man. Banish conformity! Substitute the Supremacy of the Individual for the Tyranny of the Mediocre!

Larry's Philosophy (II)

II

Tonight, several of us were having a good bull-session. One of the men said that a friend of his wanted a spacious mansion in the country where he could spend his days as a bachelor. He would read good books, have plenty of wholesome recreation with his hunters and his dogs, entertain a great deal among a congenial circle of friends, travel to new places a part of every year--in short, find happiness through seeing life in its most gracious and becoming aspects. I held that he would not find happiness; that he would become restless and discontented, and end up by wondering what he had proved by being alive at all. Because he would be living to himself. Happiness is the goal toward which we all work, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the cherished ideal of our dreams--but how shall we find it? The Koran says: "Happiness must be earned." Christ said that we will find happiness only in proportion to the happiness that we give others.

So once again we find our definition of selfishness to be helpful. We desire happiness because we are human, we know that we cannot be happy until we give ourselves unreservedly to the task of making others happy, and so we do that--and find our pot of gold. This is selfishness, but in the higher sense.

Someone asked me why I came to college if it is not for selfishness. In trying to answer him I cleared up some points that I have been hazy about for some time. I came to college because I want to increase physically, mentally, and spiritually to such an extent that I can command a great deal of influence and win the confidence, the respect, and the love of other people. Pure selfishness. But I mean to use this influence in bringing happiness to these other people; through the medium of politics or architecture, or engineering, or the Y.M.C.A. I mean to do my utmost to make the Christian way of life the only way of life. Incidentally, if I can prove that the matter of being a Christian is not a mollycoddle idea, but a red-blooded, two-fisted, daring scrap from start to finish, I shall feel that I have accomplished a lot toward the ultimate goal.

Many people start out on the plan above--that of fitting themselves--but they lose the determination to carry on their work in the enjoyment of the conditions they have built up. For instance, a man may start out in his college career with the definite idea of climbing to a position from which he can command most, and for the greatest good. He reaches the position by hard work; he is president of the class, on the college paper, in serveral honorary societies, and outside activities. All the chance in the world for a marvelous influence--unlimited potentialities. Then, because of vanity or flattery, always something unworthy, he loses his ideal of sacrifice, his desire to be of aid, and he becomes impossible, a nonentity, a parasite. He reached third base, and died; he lost his opportunity. Suppose another man started out with the same idea and reached a similar position, his pen, and his persuasiveness, for the highest ideals on the campus; he made a radical change for the better along some lines. He made a glorious dash for home--and won the game.

Now, both used selfishness (if you will) to gain position. In physics, potential energy is "energy of position," and must be stored up before it is expended as kinetic energy; the weight of a pile driver must be hauled to the top before it can be in a position to do work. In the same way, both of these boys got their potential energy; one of them didn't have his guide rods in place, and the force of his weight, unaimed, was spent on trivial and superficial things; the other sent all of his weight crashing squarely on the top of the pile--and his objective was driven home! The selfishness of the first man changed to self-advancement for self, and his selfishness became a sin; that of the other was self-improvement for others, and his selfishness became a virtue. Into these two branches is selfishness divided for me.

Larry's Philosophy (I)

I

SEVERAL times during the past year I have attempted to put on paper my philosophy--or, if that sounds too presumptuous for an eighteen-year-old, my ideas in regard to the most vital subject that has presented itself to youth from the beginning of time: what is the formula for life? Many will say that one must be at least fifty years beyond my age to even consider the question; some will laugh and declare me harmless; a few will realize that this is primarily a problem for the young people of the world to consider. At all events, I shall enjoy reading these incoherent and unsophisticated pages some day in the future, when I shall have had time to put the ideas into practice. I wonder if they will be fundamentally the same; if they are merely unripened opinions which will grow into substantial, tangible certainties, when time and experience have mellowed them?

My other attempts have failed; I was discouraged at the poor unity, coherence, grammar--endless things which are immaterial to what I really want to express. Now, however, crude and unscholarly as these sheets are, they embody to some extent my thoughts about this fascinating subject of living.

The last few years my ideal of an all-round man or woman has been that he or she should be strong mentally, physically, and spiritually. When I first joined the Boy Scouts, I was proud to pledge myself "on my honor to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight." The three divisions have always appealed to me; I have measured my friends and acquaintances by them. But while they are separate and distinct each from the other, I think that one's religion is the effect of their combined causes--that is, you can always tell a man's religion by the way he treats his body, his mind, and his soul. Show me the way a man dances, let me hear him talking at a stag party, let me play golf with him, take me through his place of business and bring his employees to me; tell me what he reads, and what he does with his idle hours, if he votes, if he gives himself to his community--and then I'll tell you what his religion is!

If he is Christian in all of these things--and by Christian I mean that he applies Christ's principles to the best of his ability--he can go to church but once in many weeks and I will not be shocked. Nor do I belittle regular church attendance. It is very stimulating and inspiring practice. But I know so many people who "religiously" go to church and prayer meeting, who roll their eyes piously when their comfortable pastor repeats to them the same old things that they have heard all their lives about the Brotherhood of Man and the Fatherhood of God, the Trinity, and the Redemptive Love of Salvation--and who are laws unto themselves the other six days in the week. Oh, they are thoroughly respectable! But how few people there are who believe in a seven-day religion. I agree with Glenn Frank in his emphatic statement that "there is no distinction between the sacred and the secular." Emerson said that a man's action was only the picture book of his creed. Surely a man's religion is the way he lives!

Some people, however, say, "Whose business is it how I live? I can do as I please." Which leads me to believe that the greatest need in the world today (with the exception of a spirit of love), especially in our own country, is Responsibility. I have always felt that my body, my mind, and my soul were given to me to use for the betterment of my associates, my community, my nation; that I am the trustee of a Personality, and that I must regard it as a sacred trust. How else can I explain my presence here? I must be useful, "else wherefore born?"

Nor do I go around with a long face and contemplate my chances to save some fallen brother; I have a heck of a good time trying to lead a normal, healthy, happy, vigorous life. It is all so simple! I cannot understand the spirit which prompts some people to withdraw into themselves, like the friars of antiquity, and watch the misdeeds and heresies of their contemporaries through a telescope, and pray for their souls. Only when a majority of sober men go to a college dance is the booze-toping crowd forced to capitulate; only when honest, high-minded men get into politics will the political bosses and puppets be forced out; only when sensible Christians get into the common run of things will the other crowd come to its senses. It's got to come about by doing the thing, by action, rather than by the drawing away of skirts and the praying for souls.

Responsibility in the largest sense means to me self-sacrifice; and yet, I believe that we must give ourselves to others if for no other reason than selfishness, paradoxical as that may seem. I belong to a fraternity. If a brother of mine comes in drunk and gives the house a bad reputation, I shall suffer with the rest. So I waylay him, sober him up, put him to bed, and tell myself that my responsibility to the fraternity compelled me to do it. Rot, in nine cases out of ten--but it works. Another example is prohibition. The churches of this country and the women of the country did a great deal to cut out the evil of the corner saloon, but they would have been helpless had not American Big Business realized that our revenues might be increased with prohibition. Selfishness--but it worked. The churches have not yet learned the psychology of the masses. They are teaching that war is naughty, immoral, useless; all of which is true, but the same old story. Should they spend half as much time and energy in campaigns showing the loss of money to the people through war, and the increased prosperity which would undoubtedly result from a warless world, they would realize more rapid results, I am sure. A grocer said to me the other day, "Hit a man in the pocketbook, and you hit him everywhere else." Selfish, sordid? Yes; but if it accomplishes the altruistic and the spiritual, should we complain? That is what I mean by our responsibilities to others being prompted by selfishness; "cast your bread on the waters" --and it will come back cake!

But this is selfishness in the higher sense. After all, it is very difficult to distinguish between sacrifice and selfishness when we are considering whole masses of people. When we come rightdown to it, we give to and do for others largely because of selfishness; for we are not happy otherwise. I do not mean to be cynical, I do not mean to discredit altruism, I do maintain that there are two kinds of selfish motives; one for personal gain, and the other for helpfulness. I have said that I believe in the latter, that it is a rare and beautiful thing to find a man or woman who is devoting his or her life to the task of making others happy. I cannot politely voice my sentiments about the former.