§ 29

If there is one lesson pre-eminently prominent taught by the experience of the Great War it is the absolute necessity for a revival of agriculture in the British Isles. And more than that, viz., that the growth of grain, fruit and vegetables should no longer be permitted to be crushed by an increase of industrialism. Further, that forests should be planted wherever possible, that we may in a large measure derive our wood from our own land. Our people need work, they need to be encouraged to hand labour, to an outdoor, healthy life. Every machine made to hasten results, while it provides work for mechanics, takes away from agricultural labourers. One man employed to drive a corn-reaping machine is enough to reap three or four acres in a day. How many does this mean thrown out of work? Thirty or forty and more. It is true the machine does the job quicker, but is rapidity of execution overwhelmingly important? There is a boot-making machine we hear of which can turn out dozens of finished boots in a day. If this is used what is to become of the bootmakers? They must either starve or take to another trade!

And so, instance after instance might be quoted to prove the narrowing effect produced by industrialism upon labour when carried to such an extent as to absorb the majority of the energies and activities of a people. Although the author has visited many industrial towns where he must confess to have been received with kindness, and from a section of their inhabitants sympathy, he wished to improve his acquaintance and go to one which shall be nameless to have a good look round. Before he relates the story of his impressions and paints a picture of them he wishes to preface it with a few words. In his opinion, which has been formed upon experience, there are undoubtedly great efforts made to render industrial life possible. There is in all industrial cities a small coterie of enlightened men who, as manufacturers, are powerful, and who are making an effort to achieve better conditions of life. There are art galleries, there are museums, there are mechanics’ institutes, schools, and many appliances for a better education. But as far as the author has seen, the people who should be influenced are not reached, they remain outside; they remain a class apart, not perhaps ungrateful for their chances, but indifferent to them; they are suspicious. Civilising influences rarely reach them; if they do, they are disregarded.

In point of fact, the Demos of “labour” is distinct from the Demos of intellectual culture. Intellectual culture and Labour are out of touch. Labour seems to belong to another world, to live another life, to have no need for what is put for them to take. That is surely because classes are too abruptly divided, they do not mix enough; hence each class mistrusts the other! Labour mistrusts the Capitalist, and the Capitalist mistrusts Labour. Each is apt to regard the other as of a different species of humanity and one that is inevitably in antagonism, forgetting that no labour means no capital and the reverse. It is unfortunate that there is a gulf between the classes where there should be neutral ground on which they could meet. Coercion will never create that meeting ground, neither will continued suspicion and unrest. High wages even will not tend to reconstruction as long as there is no intellectual basis of sympathy and desire. The working class (I dislike the term) must make an effort to rise, it must desire acquisitiveness, and I believe many of it do desire it. It is very little use to place advantages before people who do not want to use them. They must be taught or guided to want them, and by degrees to use them. The middleman is an atrocious invention. The agitator is a middleman. He keeps up friction. He is neither the “boss” nor the workman; he fiddles for his own dancing. It is not impossible that he is responsible for the absence of touch between employed and employer. Trades Unions widen the differences.

The middleman thrives on labour of all kinds. He is represented in the arts by the dealer, who, in most instances, secures a larger share of profit than the producer. The musical middleman (or agent) takes a large profit from the composer; the singer and executant are alike sufferers. This constitutes a difficulty by no means easy to get out of. As long as “advertisement” holds such a sway as it does now, the wrong men make the chief profit, which is an entirely unnatural state of things, demonstrating something wrong in the relations existing between the public and the producer. “The State” has not the power, inclination, or capacity to deal with what is, after all, authorised blackmail. It is only by force of public opinion that a change in economics is likely to come about! By public opinion we do not mean unenlightened, unskilled, ill-disciplined agitation, but one arrived at by a better tone generated by ethical as well as practical education, and a closer touch between teachers and taught. Justice is not likely to be delivered by a class which holds that its own interests are paramount; and that undoubtedly is the present attitude of the class called Labour, which is apt to forget that we are all, or ought to be, labourers, from the King to the humblest peasant. Now let us move our ground. I ask my readers to accompany me on a journey and share with me my observation while reading the thoughts it has given rise to, and afterwards to the Dream consequent, I suppose, upon those thoughts.