Humanistic Socialism and
the Future
by Norman Thomas
This essay appeared in Socialist
Humanism: An International Symposium
edited by Erich Fromm
and published in 1965. Norman Thomas was the leader of the Socialist
Party in the United States after the death of Eugene Debs in 1926
until Thomas' death on December 19, 1968.
If by socialism one understands a
highly collective economy with a great deal of government planning
and control, sweetened by much welfare legislation, then it is
virtually inevitable. It is the logical extension of present
developments – always assuming that we do not destroy ourselves in
war. If by socialism one understands a fraternal society of free men,
managing for their common good the natural resources and the
marvelous tools at their command, socialism is far from inevitable.
Not even the election of Sen. Barry
Goldwater would have seriously checked the present drift toward a
vulgar socialism or, more accurately, toward a social order of a
garrison state with welfare features. If the Cold War should soon
subside, as is quite improbable, what we might achieve by drift would
be a welfare state capitalism (rather than true socialism) with a
tender regard not for the "free enterprise" it would
verbally honor, but for a maximum preservation of private profit, in
a managed economy.
All the outstanding developments of
the century make a return to anything like a true laissez-faire
economy impossible. In my own now remote youth when I was taught this
economy it was already the victim of the private collectivism of the
great corporations which it bred. Today, it is elementary to say that
the population explosion, war and the war economy, automation and the
exhaustion of easily obtainable natural resources, including water,
require a degree of overall planning and integration in the economic
process inconceivable to Adam Smith. We are on the verge of a
possible economy of abundance very different from anything possible
in the past history or experience of the human race. Man has made the
scientific discoveries and technical inventions necessary for the
production of abundance. They have brought him to the threshold of a
conquest of space inconceivable as late as the beginning of World War
II. But in affluent America we still have 40 to 50 million persons
living below a decent standard of subsistence and in the whole world
two thirds of mankind subsisting within a narrow margin between
hunger and starvation. The lookout for a better future is clouded by
the alarming increase of population as well as by the follies and
gross inadequacies of our political and economic systems. They still
point toward war, and, even if it is avoided, we are not assured of
the conquest of poverty, illiteracy, and disease.
No serious thinker or writer dares to
propose that we can use our scientific and technical mastery over
natural energy and resources for the solution of these problems
except by authoritative planning, requiring, for many years to come,
increased governmental control, and probably ownership. Moreover, a
good life for mankind can never be attained or maintained unless in
important respects our planning and controls are world-wide, rather
than inspired by the now dominant religion of nationalism.
An observer, noting only or chiefly
the breathtaking achievements of men in mastery of physical energy
and material things, might be astonished at our general and pervasive
lack of elation and confidence in our kind. Our literature, arts, and
daily conversation express at the worst sort of content for ouselves,
and a doubt of our rationality. We are passengers on a ship of fools.
We pursue happiness, mostly in vain, and the pleasures of the senses.
We tried to escape by wallowing in sexuality. Utopia has no place in
our atlas. For us there is no heavenly vision.
Like all sweeping generalizations,
this ignores important exceptions and modifications. But it is true
enough to be profoundly disturbing to those of us who remember a
higher self-appraisal by our kind. Part of the trouble is the amazing
contrast between our mastery of natural forces in our mastery of
ourselves and our institutions; part of it is a revulsion from two
world wars, while we prepare frantically for third; part of it is the
decline of religious faith and spiritual authority, even as we build
more and more churches and temples.
Nevertheless, I do not think that our
failure with ourselves and our social institutions is so complete as
to compel us to apathy, cynicism, and despair. In my lifetime,
despite our wars and hates, we have made social progress along many
lines, even if it has been so far overbalanced by our progress in
command of natural forces. And that progress has been due in large
part to the conscious or unconscious power of socialist thinking and
organization.
This is not the current faith. As I
travel in our beautiful country, addressing many audiences,
especially in our colleges and universities, I find from the
questions I always encourage after speaking, and from other contacts,
singularly little disposition to challenge my criticisms on a moral
or humanistic basis or to dispute my warnings concerning our future
if we drift. What is alleged is that somehow individual freedom will
parish with capitalism – nowadays usually and inaccurately called
"free enterprise."
This semantic affection for freedom
reveals a certain degree of conscience. In my younger days the great
argument was that capitalism was the only way to get production, but
now capitalism as such is seldom praised, but rather "freedom,"
a freedom defined by one college lad as "my right to try to be
as rich as Paul Getty." Not for him a concern for society which
would give the quality of legal rights and, so far as possible,
opportunity to every man regardless of race, creed, or color; not for
him Milton's passion for the right "to know, to argue and to
utter," above all other rights.
This persistent identification of
freedom with the right of strong or lucky man to make great profit
out of absentee ownership, or out of management and exploitation of
other men's labor, is part of the sickness of our times. It is true
that we can have a generally socialist economy under an excessively
authoritarian, even a totalitarian state. From this fact derives my
opposition to communism. It is true that nations under socialist
governments, e.g., Great Britain and the Scandinavian countries, if
not achieved utopia or a perfect balance between the one and the
many, but they have released rather than further enslaved the common
man.
Rather than allege that socialism with
end freedom, my questioners more often profess or imply a profound
disbelief that man, the individual, can do anything of importance to
avert war or to make the whole world fraternity of free men who will
use our marvelous powers for general abundance, for life, not death.
The difficulties they raise are real and great, but to largely our
generation takes them as a foreordained defeat, not as a challenge.
It is the kind and degree of defeat which for more or less fortunate
individuals can be indefinitely assuaged by material abundance and
sexuality. The one danger they care about arises from a communist
devil, not to be analyzed and understood, but only to be feared and
hated, against which they can be defended only by emulating in some
degree is antilibertarian policies and to the endless piling up of
weapons of obliteration. It is in this atmosphere that humanistic
socialism must live and work. It is to this atmosphere that it must
provide an alternative. Its supporters may not proclaim certain
victory, but neither can its pessimistic critics prove that forces
beyond man's control doom us to suicide.
In the face of this situation, what is
required of humanistic socialism? On its positive program, it must
steadily strive to preserve and improve its good record of concern
for the individual man, his civil liberties, his place in democracy,
his right to adequate educational and health facilities provided by
society. It will recognize that while it must provide and use a
strong state, the state must always exist for men, not man for the
state; that good government demands more than universal suffrage;
that it requires the existence of balancing forces of real strength –
labor unions, professional societies, cooperatives, etc. – which
are not puppets of the state. It must be able to deal with a
population explosion in terms of regard for the individual in the
present context of bitter poverty.
It is much easier to write the
foregoing paragraph than to carry out its principles. The machinery
of democracy cannot be quite the same in urban and rural societies or
in the age of automation, as in the earlier stages of the Industrial
Revolution. The American Constitution has served us fairly well; its
separation of powers between the federal and state governments, and
among the legislative, executive, and judicial powers, has not
paralyzed action. But the bad record of Congress in recent years
begins to challenge that statement. It can do much by reforming its
own procedures and by establishing a higher degree of each party's
responsibility to its own professed platform. Perhaps some
constitutional amendment will be in order. This must be a major
concern for socialist consideration.
Socialism ought to be enormously aided
in winning men's loyalty because men have reached the threshold of an
economy of abundance, as against the economy of scarcity
characteristic of the past. This economy, thanks to cybernetics, will
make hard, repetitive, assembly-line work, manual and mental, far
less necessary. While we should rejoice in these facts, easy
satisfaction is impossible, because in our country we have not found
the way to distribute abundance, or to manage the unemployment and
the leisure associated with the rapid progress of automation, while
the vast majority of the world's people live in nations destitute of
the capital goods essential for the production of abundance. In their
poverty and ignorance they continue the population explosion which
threatens any desirable future. Humanistic socialism must deal with
the situation in terms of programs, going beyond sermons on the
beauty of fraternity.
Historically, socialism has been
largely based on the doctrine of class conflict and the appeal to the
"working class," but in our present situation that appeal
is by no means adequate. Logically, there is a recognizable division
between all workers of all types and the owners of the tools and
facilities and resources these workers must use in order to live. But
various facts make it difficult to organize a humanistic socialist
movement almost solely along the lines of this division. Here are
some of the reasons:
1) Historically men have not been
united for action only – or even chiefly – by economic class but
rather by association in tribes, city-states, and nations. Often the
outstanding sense of fellowship has been among those who profess the
same religion. It is one thing to argue that a dominant economic
elite has repeatedly manipulated these loyalties to its own
advantage, but this does not prove the primacy of the class struggle.
2) While the workers of the world may
have had nothing to lose but their chains, historically there's been
an enormous difference in the weight of these chains in various
countries, and between different classes of workers within each
nation. In the U.S., thanks quite largely to the trade unions, which
have been a class weapon, organized labor has its own organized place
in society; many of its members belong to some degree also to an
owning class, by reason not merely of ownership of their own homes,
but capitalistic shares of stocks. Collectively the unions have huge
resources in stocks and bonds. Despite their well advertised faults,
unions are invaluable to the workers and indeed to any healthy
society. But they do not represent the majority of the workers and
they can hardly be considered as a surrogate for mankind in the
struggle for justice and fraternity. Humanistic socialism needs very
urgently to win them to its support, but it cannot be based simply
upon that support.
Humanistic socialism therefore cannot
escape the ethical appeal to the human family. In some sense it must
speak to men's needs as consumers, more than producers – especially
in the coming age of automation – and its appeal must exalt the
great intangibles of peace and fraternity.
Implicit in all this is the
recognition of socialism's duty to deal better with such great
problems as: control of automation for the general good; democracy in
industry – and in the unions – as well as in the political state;
the role of management – a factor not to be completely identified
with ownership – in the processes of production and distribution;
and, above all, the economics and politics of our garrison state. We
shall not be able to deal satisfactorily with this last problem while
we depend upon peace through balance of terror. And this
consideration leads to an affirmation that the supreme business of
socialism must be with peace. No longer can we choose between peace
or freedom. We must win and preserve freedom in peace. Liberty will
not rise from the awful wastes of nuclear war to walk serenely with
its miserable survivors among the corpses of the dead and the agonies
of the dying.
None of these great problems will be
solved simply by a vast extension of public ownership by a mighty
state. Yet socialism should still demand extensions of social
ownership with the government as agent – which socialist ownership,
be it noted, is not synonymous with nationalization. Modern
democratic socialists want to extend public ownership, but they by no
means believe it necessary or desirable for government – even a
socialist government – to own all the means of production and
distribution. Controls necessary to the public interest can be
established through labor legislation, taxation, etc. There will be a
place for the mechanism of price and profit. Cooperatives of both
producers and consumers should play a large role under democratic
socialism. There should be a place for individual initiative which
can be variously encouraged.
Bearing these facts in mind, how far
should public ownership extended in America? Priority in extending it
depends in part upon special conditions including the state of public
opinion and the particular plans under discussion. Acquisition should
be by purchase, because it would be unfair arbitrarily to expropriate
some owners without compensation, leaving others to exist as before.
Moreover, expropriation invites violence and strife far more costly
than compensation. Socialism, however, should be on guard against
unloading on the government being prepped for nearly bankrupt public
utilities. It is grimly amusing that the state, the target for the
arrows of conservative critics, is accepted by many of them as the
essential savior of ill-run or ill-fated enterprises such as the
British coal mines and railroads.
What then should be socially owned?
Certainly the natural resources which should be the common possession
of mankind. In our country the federal government is by far in the
best position to organize socially owned coal, iron, or oil
industries, but state governments must participate in working out
plans, because they own much of the land where minerals exist, and
because they depend on land taxation to provide funds for education
and other necessary functions.
Large forests and acreage of
reforested land should be socially owned and socially used not only
for lumber and wood products but for protection against floods.
As for the surface of the earth, man's
desire for a piece of land he can call his own is deeply rooted and
widespread. Private ownership of land, with exceptions I have
mentioned, should therefore be permitted, but on the basis of
occupancy and use. It is axiomatic that the rental value of land is a
social creation. I may let my lot go to ragweed, but I can get far
more for it than my friend who has cultivated his garden if my lot is
located near a town or city. I think socialists might well adopt
Henry George's principle that the rental value of land, apart from
improvements, belongs to society and should be taxed accordingly.
The tax, however, should not be a
single tax. Government revenues at all levels should be principally
derived from three major sources: a tax on land rather than
improvements to it, a very heavy inheritance tax, and income tax. Of
course, there could be taxation of the sort that hurts consumers
unfairly. I think this is true in general of sales taxes and I
suppose there could be taxation of the sort which will unduly inhibit
economic initiative by reducing incentives. This might be true of
badly devised income taxes but in America I worry less about that
than about the escape of excessive wealth from unfair burden of
taxes. Very heavy inheritance taxes properly adjusted to the care of
widows and minor children would be an expression of social justice
that would not unduly paralyze incentive. I doubt many fathers work
principally in order that their descendents may not have to.
To public ownership of natural
resources I should add public utilities, certainly those which serve
as best as monopolies or near-monopolies. The system of ownership
should be flexible, allowing for extension both of the TVA type of
enterprise, and of the existing rural electrification.
My next candidate for public ownership
would be in industry like steel. It is basic to our economy and is
currently in the hands of an oligopoly which manages to administer
prices with little or no regard for competition.
Perhaps even more than urging public
ownership, socialism must challenge the way in which national income
is divided among the people. The noblest ideal would be the Marxist
theory "from each according to his capacity, to each according
to his needs." I have been skeptical of the practicality of that
ideal, but am now beginning to wonder, along with Robert Theobald,
whether automation may not drive us to something very like it, since
the provision of jobs in an economy of abundance may become in many
ways so difficult.
Let me repeat my conviction that
social ownership cannot be a cure-all. It will leave us face-to-face
with problems of the role of unions, the relations of management and
men, and the effective application of democracy to industry, matters
on which socialism has been inclined to mark time. Properly
thought-out taxation and the proper control of money and currency
also fall into the category of problems requiring further exploration
by humanistic socialism.
But let me also repeat that my belief
that socialism's most pressing concern must be with the problem of
survival in the nuclear age. Peace by deterrence or balance of terror
will someday collapse by accident, passion, miscalculation, or
design. Meanwhile, the enormous expenditure of the arms race imposes
upon us very largely the economy, politics, and standards of civil
liberty appropriate to a garrison state. It becomes essential to any
system that seeking the support of thoughtful men to find an
alternative to war.
Here socialism ought to be a greater
force than it has been, although I think it can be fairly said that
statements of the Socialist International and certainly of the
American Socialist Party in its 1962 platform had been far the best
political utterances on the subject of peace. Democratic socialism
wants to win by nonviolent methods, and that requires the utilization
of machinery of political action in existing states. It is,
therefore, not strange that, to quote Paul Henry Spaak, "the
thing that socialists have learned to nationalize best is socialism."
It has not, however, forgotten internationalism; it can and should
develop not only an opposition to the religion of the absolute
sovereign national state, but an alternative to it through a world
federation. However, we must relinquish the notion that socialism,
victorious in nation after nation, will automatically bring peace.
Its principles must consciously be applied on an international rather
than a national scale, if it is best to serve humankind. In a world
that is seen the rise and the tactics of communism, and the extent of
the religion of nationalism, it will easy doctrine that capitalism is
the sole cause of war, and socialism its sure and only cure, cannot
stand. Socialism must develop a conscious program for peace.
More than that, it must recover its
old dynamic. How that can be done and what political tactics it can
most widely use are questions lying beyond the scope of this article.
Humanistic socialism cannot live on its rich heritage. It can only
draw wisdom and courage from that heritage to press on.