Socialism and Saint-Simon (Routledge Revivals)

Emile Durkheim

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2009
• eBook ISBN: 9781135174385
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Philosophy History & Theory

Durkheim's study of socialism, first published in English in 1959, is a document of exceptional intellectual interest and a genuine milestone in the history of sociological theory. It presents us with the sociological theories of a truly first-rate thinker and his extensive commentary upon another key figure in the history of sociological thought, Henri Saint-Simon. The core of this volume contains Durkheim's presentation of Saint-Simon's ideas, their sources and their development.

VIII
The Organization of the Industrial System

Let us now return to the practical question noted in this historical analysis. Granted that our present societies contain in them two different, and even contradictory, social systems—one which is becoming weaker and weaker, the other emerging more and more—how can the crisis resulting from their antagonism be solved ?

Will one try to compromise the contradictions and give each side a share of this system? But a nation does not constitute a true political association unless it has a common goal for activity. It cannot—without being divided against itself—pursue two contradictory ends. This is the case with England, whose constitution rests at once on industrial and military principles. The result is that each institution has, so to say, its opposing contra-institution. Thus, impressment of sailors coexists there along with the liberal law of habeus corpus; the industrial city of Manchester has no representative in Parliament, while tiny villages do; the English government attempts to subject all nations to its maritime hegemony and yet asserts the equality of all peoples by demanding suppression of the slave trade, etc., etc. An organization so chaotic destroys itself; and the people it embraces cannot advance in one direction or another since they cannot take a step in one without then taking another in the opposite direction. Such a condition is a state of crisis and disorder which cannot endure. (CatSch., X, 82.) It is necessary to choose resolutely between the two ends that can be proposed for social activity. But could not one preserve the military system by introducing improvements which would place it in harmony with the new exigencies of industrial life? This, replies Saint-Simon, is to attribute to social institutions a plasticity they do not possess. “Institutions, like the men who create them, are modifiable—but they cannot be denatured. Their primary character cannot be entirely effaced.” (Catéch., VIII, 34.) They can therefore “be improved only up to a certain point, beyond which the principles which served as their foundation can no longer bend sufficiently to admit the modifications one would want them to undergo.” (X, 162.) Consequently, it is not by retouching details that one can eliminate from modern societies the contradictions which plague them. Such measures are merely provisional and temporary solutions, useful in their hour—and Saint-Simon even believes this hour has passed—but which in any event could not be definitive. They could not stop the crisis since they permit its causes to survive. In order to radically end it, one cannot hesitate between the two following courses; either wholly restore the ancient system or else produce another which integrates—as did the preceding one when it was intact—the whole of social life.

At the time, the first course was recommended by representatives of the reactionary school—by Maistre, Bonald, Lamennais. Saint-Simon does not lack respect for their doctrine, which at least seemed to be logical and consistent. But, he says, societies do not flower twice in the course of history. “A system which the centuries have built and destroyed cannot be re-established. The destruction of old doctrines is complete, radical and irrevocable. They will always be remembered with gratitude and veneration by all true thinkers and all people of probity, for the innumerable and eminent services they rendered civilization during the long era of their maturity. But henceforth their place is only in the memory of true friends of humanity and they can make no claim to vigor.” (Syst. Ind., VI, 50 and 51.)

Even if the movement which leads humanity in its present direction only had its birth in Christian societies, and while a duration of several centuries may make it impossible to view it as a simple accident, still one could justifiably believe that some day it will come to an end—just as there was a day when it began. But in reality its origins are much more remote. It was only to avoid needlessly extending the field of historic research that Saint-Simon took this date as a point of departure for his observations. If you go back still further—if you start, for example, with the societies which preceded the Middle Ages—you will see that even then social evolution was taking the same direction.

In the Greco-Latin world the industrial class was merged with the class of slaves. It was the slaves who were the producers, and the slave was the direct property of the master—he was his thing. The substitution of serfdom for slavery—such as occurred in Christian societies—was a first liberation for industry. For the serf depended on military power in only an intermediate and indirect way, through the mediation of land to which he was attached. He was bound to the earth, not to the lord, and the latter could not do with him as he wished. The liberty of his movements therefore became greater. (Industrie, III, 142.)

On the other hand, in Rome and Greece spiritual and military powers were fused. It was the same class that held both. This diffuse state resulted in a strict subordination of intellectual life to military power, which ceased the day that the two domains were definitely separated by Christianity. This separation has been a primary liberation for the human mind—a profound view which can today be treated as an acquisition of history. The great service Christianity performed for thought was to make it a social force, distinct from governmental powers and equal—even superior in certain respects—to them. Henceforth, the mind has a field which belonged to it in its own right and where it could develop its nature.¹ Thus the growth of the communes and the importation of positive sciences into Europe are not the first beginnings; since the existence of humanity it has moved toward the same goal. It is its nature to go in this direction and to seek to drive it back is vain.

Since this progressive disappearance of the old system “is a necessary result of the course pursued by civilization” (Organis IV, 63), one has only to inquire if it is useful. And since it is necessary, whatever one may think of it, one can only concur. But actually it is easy to see that this development conforms to the true interests of humanity. From military—which it was formerly—the human spirit became pacific. Industry was offering nations a means—as fruitful as war—of becoming rich and powerful. As a result, military strength lost its old significance. Besides, the conjectural propositions priests were teaching became useless, since science showed the superiority of demonstrated propositions. The representatives of the old order of things no longer render effective service, and maintain themselves only through force of habit. This is what Saint-Simon tried to make clear in a famous pamphlet. “Imagine,” he wrote, “that the nation loses Monsieur, princes, cardinals, bishops, judges, and in addition, ten thousand of the richest property owners among those who live off their incomes without producing. What would the result be? This accident would certainly afflict all the French because they are good… but no political harm to the state would result. There are a great number of Frenchmen who are able to exercise the functions of the king’s brother as well as does Monsieur… The anterooms of the chateaux are full of courtiers ready to occupy the places of the great officers of the crown…. How many assistants are our ministers of state worth ? … As for the ten thousand owners—their heirs will require no apprenticeship to do the honors of their salons as well.” (Organisateur, IV, 22-23.) But the same ready substitution could not be made if France were to lose, not thirty thousand personages of this kind, but only three thousand producers—whether of the intellectual or the economic order. Then, it “would become a body without a soul” and would need “at least an entire generation to repair the damage.” (Ibid., 20.)

So it is neither possible nor useful to restore the old system in its entirety. But on the other hand we know that every eclectic combination is contradictory and incoherent, that a social organization cannot be regarded as stable except as it is entirely homogeneous. In other words, society must be based on only one of the two conflicting principles, and the other be excluded. It follows that modern societies will be definitely in equilibrium only when organized on a purely industrial basis. Let us pause for a moment at this conclusion and the argument it is deduced from, for in it we find one of the important characteristics of socialism—I mean its radical and revolutionary spirit. I am not implying that socialism is constrained to employ violence to attain its goal. In any event such a proposition could not be applied to Saint-Simon since to him violence never accomplishes anything and is only a weapon of destruction. (Catéch., VIII, 9.) I refer only to the very general tendency of socialist doctrines to make a tabula rasa of the past in order to construct the future. Whether, in order to proceed to the work of overthrowing, they merely recommend recourse to legal measures or condone insurrection, whether they believe it necessary to control changes or not, does not matter. Almost all say there is complete incompatibility between what ought to be and what is, and that the existing order must disappear to give place to a new. In this sense they are revolutionary—whatever precautions they may take to mitigate the effects of this revolution. We have just seen—through the example of Saint-Simon— where this subversive spirit comes from. It is due to the integral character their demands assume. Feeling very keenly the new needs which trouble society, they no longer share the sentiments of others. Fascinated by the goal they pursue, they believe they must realize it in all its purity, without any alloy to corrupt it. Therefore it is necessary that societies be organized completely— from top to bottom—so as to assure this integral realization. But now today’s societies are constituted to realize quite other ends. Consequently their present organization, being an obstacle to what must be established—must disappear. Social elements must be freed so that they may be organized according to a new design. The social body must die in order to be reborn. Saint-Simon does not see this argument as a contradiction of his premises. If—as he keeps repeating—each period of history originates in the one preceding, the old is found again in the new, and so persists throughout changing forms. What will be comes from what has been; what was could not cease to be, for the cause survives in its effect, the principle in its consequences. Nothing is destroyed. Since the future has issued from the past, it cannot free itself from it. One must make a choice. Either future institutions are merely old institutions transformed—and in this case the latter are found within the former—or else the first are not born from the second. But then, from where do they come? Historic continuity is broken and one wonders how such a hiatus can exist without the course of social life itself being suspended at the same time.

At any rate, on this point—granted that the new system must differ completely from the old—how can one proceed to sketch its design ? Obviously, to the degree that it does not exist, it must be invented. “It is clear that the industrial regime, unable to be introduced either by chance or routine, had to be conceived a priori” (Catéch., VIII, 61.) On the other hand, it is neither necessary nor even possible to invent it out of whole cloth, for we know that it already exists in part. Under feudalism an industrial organization existed which has gone on developing since the Middle Ages. But what is to be established cannot be anything other than what preceded, strengthened and enlarged. As it stands it is inadequate, but only because it does not as yet embrace the whole of social life, confined as it has been until now by vestiges of the old regime. It remains only to acquire awareness of the features it presents, and to see what they should become. If this system—instead of being subordinated to another—remains itself and is extended to all collective functions without exception; if the principle on which it rests becomes the very basis of social organization in its totality—then, in short, everything is reduced to observing the essential properties of the industrial order as it was spontaneously established, and to generalizing them.

The most vital trait of this spontaneous organization is that its goal, and its exclusive goal, is to increase the control of man over things. “To concern itself only in acting on nature, in order to modify it as advantageously as possible for humankind,” has been the unique task of the communes since their enfranchisement—that is, of the new society in process of formation. Instead of seeking to extend the national domain, instead of diverting the attention of men from worldly wealth, it addressed itself, on the contrary, to peacefully increasing their well-being through the development of arts, science and industry. It has had as its unique function the production of useful things for our worldly existence. Consequently, since all reform consists of extending to all of society what until now has been so only for a portion of it, the crisis will only be resolved when all social life converges toward this same goal, to the exclusion of every other. The only normal form that collective activity can take henceforth, is the industrial form. Society will be fully in harmony with itself only when it is totally industrialized. “The production of useful things is the only reasonable and positive end that political societies can set themselves.” (Industrie, II, 186.) Military virtues, like the asceticism religion preaches, henceforth have no reason for existing. Things of war—like those of theology—no longer interest any but a small minority and, no longer serving as an objective for the ordinary concerns of men, cannot supply the material of social life. The only interests now capable of playing this role are economic interests. “It is a class of interests felt by all men and which belong to the maintenance of life and well-being. This group of interests is the only one in which all men understand each other and have to agree on, the only one on which they have to deliberate, to act in common—the only one, therefore, around which politics can be exercised and which should be accepted as the single criterion of all institutions and social matters.” (Industrie, II, 188.) Society must become a vast production company. “All society rests on industry. Industry is the only guaranty of its existence … The most favorable state of affairs for industry is, for this reason, the most favorable to society.” (II, 13.)

From this principle flows a significant conclusion. It is that “the producers of useful things—being the only useful people in society—are the only ones who should cooperate to regulate its course.” (Industrie, II, 186.) It is therefore to them and them alone that law-making belongs. It is in their hands that all political power should be deposited. Since, hypothetically, the whole fabric of social life would be made up of industrial relationships, is it not obvious that only men of industry are in a position to direct it? The vital rationale consists of two stages: 1. Since in this system there is nothing more socially central than economic activity, the regulating organ of social functions should preside over the economic activity of society. There is no longer place for a central organ with a differing objective since there is no longer other material in the common life; 2. This organ must necessarily be of the same nature as those which it is charged with regulating—that is to say, it must be composed exclusively of representatives of industrial life.

But what is understood by “industrial life?” According to a concept found at the basis of a great number of political constitutions, the most qualified representatives of economic interests would be the property owners. For Saint-Simon, on the contrary, the owner who is merely an owner, and who does not himself exploit his capital, is hardly qualified to fill such an office. He is not even a part of industrial society, for it embraces only producers—and he does not produce. He is a drone, whereas it numbers only bees. He is therefore as completely a stranger to it as are the nobles and functionaries of the old system. There are, says Saint-Simon, two major groups: one consists of the immense majority of the nation—that is to say, all workers—and which Saint-Simon calls national and industrial; and the other, which he labels anti-national, because it is like a parasitic body whose presence only interrupts the play of social functions. In the latter are included noblemen… and “owners living like nobles, that is to say, doing nothing.” (Parti national, III, 204.) This opposition between owner and industrial appears constantly in his writings and under all forms. In one of his last works (Catéch. Industriel) the owner is even designated by the most modern word, “bourgeois.” “It is not the industrials who caused the revolution, it is the bourgeois.” But it is important to note that it is not all capitalists who are placed beyond the pale of regular society, but only those who live on unearned income. As for those who themselves make their wealth productive, who enrich it with their toil—they are industrials. Consequently, industrial society comprises all those who actively participate in the economic life, whether they are owners or not. The fact of possessing does not provide access to it but does not preclude them from it.

But how are idlers to be eliminated? The logical result of what preceded would be denial of possession without working, and consequently the prohibition of accumulating wealth to a degree which would permit idleness. Saint-Simon does not go as far as this. He is satisfied to place the useless in a state of legal tutelage. They will not participate in political power. They will be tolerated in society but will have the status of aliens. For, lacking representation in the councils which direct collective activity, they will not affect its course. To arrive at this result without delay—since under the Restoration one was a voter only on condition of paying a certain amount of direct taxes—it would suffice to legislate that only the industrials would be allowed to pay this tax. In this way, industry would quickly and easily be mistress of the chambers. This is the import of a measure Saint-Simon recommends, and which at first seems quite strange. He demands that henceforth the land tax directly affect, not the owner of land, but the farmer, the tenant. This is not in order to burden these producers—on the contrary we will see that he is concerned with bettering their situation—but so that they alone may have the right of electing representatives. It is a way of eliminating the idle owner from political life. If Saint-Simon does not demand the same reform for owners of personal capital, it is because they were not covered by a direct tax high enough to provide electoral qualification. (Industrie, II, 84-96.)

But if owners are not to be considered producers, it is not the same with scholars, who are the indispensable auxiliaries of industry. “The social body,” says Saint-Simon, “consists of two great families: that of intellectuals, or industrials of theory, and that of immediate producers, or scholars of application.” (Industrie, III, 60.) Consequently they too have the right to be represented in the managing organs of society, and this representation is actually indispensable since industry cannot do without the knowledge of science. It is necessary therefore that the supreme council of industry be assisted by a supreme council of the learned. However, the two organs—though united—must be distinct, for the two functions—theory on one side and practice on the other—are too different to be fused. “The division of society and all that concerns it—temporally and spiritually— must obtain in the new system as in the old.” (Organisateur, IV, 85, n.l.) This is a victory of Christianity which it is important not to lose. Thinkers must be able to speculate with complete independence and without servilely capitulating to the needs of practice; but it is essential that the practical men decide finally on all that concerns execution. Moreover the two organs should not be placed on the same footing; there must exist between them a certain hierarchy. It is to the industrials that the principal role should belong, for it is on them that the existence of the thinkers depends. “Scholars render very important services to the industrial class, but receive services from it that are much more important. They receive existence.… The industrial class is the fundamental class, the providing class of society.” (Catéchisme, X, 25.) The learned form but “a secondary class.” (Ibid.) Between the two, finally, are the artists, whose position in the system is less clearly fixed. Occasionally Saint-Simon seems to treat them as a class apart, represented by a special organ in the managing centers of society; at other times they disappear into the industrial class.

In summary, granted that social functions can be only secular or spiritual—that is, turned towards thought or towards action— that in the present state of civilization the only rational form of the temporal is industry and of the spiritual, science, Saint-Simon concludes: 1. That normal society should consist only of producers and scholars; 2. That as a consequence it should be subordinated to directing organs composed of similar elements, with a certain preeminence of the fir...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Original Title
• Original Copyright
• Introduction
• Contents
• Introduction to the First Edition
• I Definition of Socialism
• II Socialism and Communism
• III Socialism in the Eighteenth Century
• IV Sismondi
• V The Life and Work of Saint-Simon
• VI The Doctrine of Saint-Simon: The Foundation of Positivism
• VII Historic Origins of the Industrial System and the Doctrine of Saint-Simon
• VIII The Organization of the Industrial System
• IX Internationalism and Religion
• X Saint-Simon—Critical Conclusions
• XI The Saint-Simon School
• XII Conclusions