Part 20 (1/2)
[64] Putnam: Freud's Psychoa.n.a.lytic Method and Its Evolution, p. 34.
The Highest Kind of Choice
There is no easier way to enliven any conversation than by dropping the remark that a human being always does what he wants to do. Simple as the statement seems, it is quite enough to quicken the dullest table-talk and loosen the most reticent tongue.
”I don't do what I want to do,” says the college student. ”I want to play tennis every afternoon; but what I do is to sit in a stuffy room and study.”
”I don't do what I want to do,” says the mother of a family. ”At night I want to sit down and read the latest magazine, but what I do is to darn stockings by the hour.”
Nevertheless we shall see that, even in cases like these, each of us is acting in accordance with his strongest desire. There may be-there often is-a bitter conflict, but in the end the desire that is really stronger always conquers and works itself out into action.
It is possible to imagine a situation in which a man would be physically unable to do what he wanted to do. Bound by physical cords, held by prison walls, or weakened by illness, he might be actually unable to carry out his desires. But apart from physical restraint, it is hard to imagine a situation in real life in which a person does not actually do what he wants to do; that is, what in the circ.u.mstances he wants to do. This is simply saying in another way that we act in accordance with the emotion which is at the moment strongest.
Will Is Choice. Just here we can imagine an earnest protest: ”But why do you ignore the human will? Why do you try to make man the creature of feeling? A high-grade man does-not what he wants to do but what he thinks he ought to do. In any person worthy of the adjective 'civilized' it is conscience, not desire, which is the motive power of his life.”
It is true: in the better kind of man the will is of central importance; but what is ”will”? Let us imagine a raw soldier in the trenches just before a charge into No-Man's Land. He is afraid, but the word of command comes, and instantly he is a new creature. His fear drops away and, energized by the l.u.s.t of battle, he rushes forward, obviously driven by the stronger emotion. He goes ahead because he really wants to, and we say that he does not have to use his will.
Imagine another soldier in the same situation; with him fear seems uppermost. His knees shake and his legs want to carry him in the wrong direction, but he still goes forward. And he goes forward, not so much because there is no other possibility as because, in the circ.u.mstances, he really wants to. All his life, and especially during his military training, he has been filled with ideals of loyalty and courage. More than he fears the guns of the enemy or of his firing-squad does he fear the loss of his own self-respect and the respect of his comrades. Greater than his ”will to live” is his desire to play the man. There is conflict, and the desire which seems at the moment weaker is given the victory because it is reinforced by that other permanent desire to be a worthy man, brave, and dependable in a crisis. He goes forward, because in the circ.u.mstances, he really wants to, but in this case we say that he had to use his will.
Is it not apparent that will itself is choice,-the selection by the whole personality of the emotion and the action which best fit into its ideals? Will is choice by the part of us which has ideals. McDougall points out that will is the reinforcement of the weaker desire by the master desire to be a certain kind of a character. [65]
[65] ”The essential mark of volition is that the personality as a whole, or the central feature or nucleus of the personality, the man himself, is thrown upon the side of the weaker motive.”-McDougall: Introduction to Social Psychology, p. 240.
Each human being as he goes through life acquires a number of moral ideals and sentiments which he adopts as his own. They become linked with the instinct of self-a.s.sertion, which henceforth acts as the motive power behind them, and attempts to drive from the field any emotion which happens to conflict.
Men, like the lower animals, are ruled by desire, but, as G.A. Coe says, ”Men mold themselves. They form desires not merely to have this or that object, but to be this or that kind of a man.” [66]
[66] Coe: Psychology of Religion.
If a man be worthy of the name, he is not swayed by the emotion which happens for the moment to be strongest. He has the power to reinforce and make dominant those impulses which fit into the ideal he has built for himself. In other words, he has the power to choose between his desires, and this power depends largely upon the ideals which he has incorporated into his life by the complexes and sentiments which compose his personality.
Ideas and Ideals. If emotion is the heart of humanity, ideas are its head. In our emphasis on emotion, we must not forget that as emotion controls action, so ideas control emotion. But ideas, of themselves, are not enough. Everybody has seen weaklings who were full of pious plat.i.tudes. Ideas do control life, but only when linked up with some strong emotion. No moral sentiment is strong enough to withstand an intense instinctive desire. If ideas are to be dynamic factors in a life, they must become ideals and be really desired. They must be backed up by the impulse of self-a.s.sertion, incorporated with the sentiment of self-regard, and so made a permanent part of the central personality.
Parents and teachers who try to ”break a child's will” and to punish every evidence of independence and self-a.s.sertion little know that they are undermining the foundations of morality itself, and doing their utmost to leave the child at the mercy of his chance whims and emotions. There can be no strength of character without self-regard, and self-regard is built on the instinctive desire of self-a.s.sertion.
Education and Religion. It is easy to see how important education is in this process of giving the right content to the self-regarding sentiment. The child trained to regard ”temper” as a disgrace, self-pity as a vice, over-sensitiveness as a sign of selfishness, and all forms of exaggerated emotionalism as a token of weakness, has acquired a powerful weapon against temptation in later life. Indulgence in any of these forms of gratification he will regard as unworthy and out of keeping with his personality.
It is easy, too, to see how central a place a vital religious faith has in enriching and enn.o.bling the ego- ideal, and in giving it driving-power. A force which makes a high ideal seem both imperative and possible of achievement could hardly fail to be a deciding factor. Every student of human nature knows in how many countless lives the Christian religion has made all the difference between mere good intentions and the power to realize those intentions; how many times it has furnished the motive power which nothing else seemed able to supply. Moral sentiments which have been merely sentiments become, through the magic of a new faith, incorporated into conscience and endowed with new power.
Just here lies the value of any great love, or any intense devotion to a cause. As Royce says: ”To have a conscience, then, is to have a cause; to unify your life by means of an ideal determined by this cause, and to compare this ideal and the life.” [67]
[67] Royce: Philosophy of Loyalty, p. 175.
Avoiding the Strain. It seems that a human being is to a large extent controlled by will, and that will is in itself the highest kind of choice. But too often will is crippled because it does not speak for the whole personality. Knowledge helps a person to relate conscience with hitherto hidden parts of himself, to a.s.sert his will, and to choose only those emotions and outlets which the connected-up, the unified personality wants. Sometimes, indeed, a little knowledge makes the exercise of the will power unnecessary. Using will power is, after all, likely to be a strenuous business. It implies the presence of conflict, and the strain of defeating the desire which has to be denied. [68] Why struggle to subdue emotional bad habits when a little insight dispels the desire back of them, and makes them melt away as if by magic? For example, why use our will to keep down fear or anger when a little understanding dissipates these emotions without effort?
[68] Freud: Introduction to Psychoa.n.a.lysis, p. 42.
Whatever we do with difficulty we are not doing well. When it requires effort to do our duty this means that a great part of us does not want to do it. When we get rid of our hidden resistances we work with ease. As a strong wind, applied in the right way, drives the s.h.i.+p without effort, just so the forces in our lives, if they are adjusted to one another, will without strain or stress easily and naturally work together to carry us in the direction we have chosen. When we get rid of blind conflicts, even the business of ruling our spirits becomes feasible.
Summary