Historical Materialism

A System of Sociology

Nikolai Bukharin

• Editore: Routledge
• Anno: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781136654350
• Edizione: 1
• Argomento: Social Sciences
• Categoria: Sociology

First published in English in 1926, this work by Nikolai Bukharin, a highly influential Marxist and Soviet Politician who would later become one of the most famous victims of Stalin's show trials, expands upon Karl Marx's theory of historical materialism.

Offering a Marxist interpretation of sociology, this reissue is important not only from a sociological and economic perspective, but is also extremely valuable as a socio-historical document of contemporary thought in the Soviet Union in the years following the Bolshevik revolution.

HISTORICAL MATERIALISM

I. CAUSE AND PURPOSE IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES (CAUSATION AND TELEOLOGY)

a. The Uniformity of Phenomena in General and of Social Phenomena in Particular

IF we regard the phenomena of nature which surround us, as well as those of social life, we shall observe that these phenomena by no means constitute a confused mass in which nothing may be distinguished or understood or predicted. On the other hand, we may everywhere ascertain, by attentive observation, a certain regularity in these phenomena. Night is followed by day; and, just as inevitably, day is followed by night. The seasons regularly follow one upon the other, accompanied by a great number of concomitant phenomena, repeating themselves year after year; the trees put forth their leaves and shed them; various kinds of birds of passage fly into our country and out again; men sow or reap; etc. Whenever a warm rain falls, mushrooms grow up in profusion, and we even have a saying, “to grow like mushrooms after a rain.” A grain of rye, falling upon the ground, will strike root and the plant under certain circumstances will ultimately produce an ear of grain. But we have never observed that any such ear grew—let us say—out of frogs’ eggs or from bits of sandstone. Everything in nature, therefore, from the movements of the planets down to the little grain or mushroom, is subject to a certain uniformity or, as it is generally put, to a certain natural law.

We observe the same condition in social life also, i.e., in the life of human society. However complicated and varied this society may be, we nevertheless observe and discover in it a certain natural law. For example, wherever capitalism develops (in America or in Japan, in Africa or in Australia), the working class also grows and expands, likewise the socialist movement; the theory of Marxism is spread. Together with the growth of production there is a growth in “mental culture”: in the number of persons able to read and write, for example. In capitalist society, crises arise at definite intervals of time, which follow upon industrial booms in as precise a succession as the succession of day and night. The bringing out of any great invention which revolutionizes technology also speedily alters the entire social life. Or, let us take another example; let us count the number of persons born every year in a certain country: we shall see that in the following year the increase in the population by percentage will be approximately the same. Let us calculate the quantity of beer consumed each year in Bavaria; we shall find that this quantity is more or less constant, increasing with the increase in population. If there were no uniformity, no natural law, it is of course clear that nothing could be predicted, nothing could be done. Day might follow upon night today, and then there might be daylight for a whole year. This year, snow might fall in winter, while next winter oranges might grow. In England, the working class might grow up by the side of capitalism, while in Japan the number of landowners might perhaps increase. Now we bake bread in an oven, but then—why not?—perhaps loaves of bread will grow on pinetrees instead of cones.

As a matter of fact, however, no one has any such thoughts, every one well knows that loaves of bread will not grow on pinetrees. Every one has observed that in nature and society there is a definite regularity, a fixed natural law. The determination of this natural law is the first task of science.

This causality in nature and society is objective; it exists whether men are aware of it or not. The first step of science is to reveal this causality and free it from the surrounding chaos of phenomena. Marx considered the earmark of scientific knowledge to be its character as “a sum of many determinations and relations”, as opposed to a “chaotic conception”. (Introduction to A Critique of Political Economy, Chicago, 1913.) This character of science of “systematizing”, “coordinating”, “organizing”, etc., is recognized by all. Thus, Mach (in Erkenntnis und Irrtum) defines the process of scientific thinking as an adaptation of thoughts to facts and of thoughts to thoughts. Karl Pearson, an English professor, writes: “Not the facts themselves constitute science, but the method of elaborating them.” The original method of science is the “classification” of facts, which does not mean a mere collection of facts, but their “systematic connection”. (Karl Pearson, Grammar of Science, London, 1892, p. 15 and 92. Yet, the great majority of present-day bourgeois philosophers find the function of science to be not the discovery of those causalities that exist objectively, but the invention of such causalities by the human person. But it is clear that the succession of day and night, of the seasons, the uniform sequence of natural and social phenomena, are independent of whether the mind of the learned bourgeois will have it so or not. The causality of phenomena is an objective causality.

b. The Nature of Causation, Formulation of the Question

If uniformity, as stated above, may be observed in the phenomena of nature and society, we may well ask what is this uniformity? When we examine the mechanism of a watch and note its precise operation, when we observe how beautifully the little wheels have been adjusted one with regard to the other, each tooth meshing with another, we are fully aware why the mechanism works as it does. Watches are made on a definite plan; this instrument has been constructed for a definite end; each screw has been put in its place precisely for the attainment of this end. Similarly, in the great universe, the planets move regularly and smoothly in their courses; nature wisely preserves the specially developed forms of life. We have only to regard the construction of the eye of any animal in order to observe at once how cunningly and skilfully, with what practical planfulness this eye has been constructed. And everything in nature seems informed with a plan: the mole, living under the surface of the ground, has little blind eyes, but very excellent hearing; while the deep-sea fish against whose body the weight of the water is pressing, resists this pressure by an equal pressure from within (if taken out of the water, the fish will burst), etc. And how is it in human society? Does not humanity propose a great goal for itself; namely, communism? Does not the entire evolution of history move toward this great goal? Therefore, if everything in nature and in society has an object, which may not in every case be known to us, but which consists in an eternal process of perfection, should we not consider all things from the point of view of these goals? In this case, the natural law condition of which we have spoken will appear to be a condition of purposeful natural law (or of teleological natural law; from the Greek telos, “goal”, “purpose”). This is one of two possibilities, one of the ways in which the question as to the character of natural law may be formulated.

Another formulation of the question starts with the fact that every phenomenon has its cause. Humanity moves toward communism for the reason that the proletariat has grown up within capitalist society and this proletariat cannot be accommodated in the framework of this society: the mole has poor sight and excellent hearing because in the course of thousands of years the natural circumstances have been exerting their influence on these animals, and the changes called forth by these circumstances have been handed down to their offspring; those animals which were more adapted to these circumstances finding it easier to continue to live, to reproduce and to multiply, than those less adapted to the changes. Day is followed by night, and vice-versa, because the earth revolves about its axis and turns to the sun now one side and now the other. In all these cases we do not ask for the purpose (“for what end?”), but we ask for the cause (“why?”). This is the causal (from Latin causa, “cause”) formulation of the question. The natural law of phenomena is here represented as a law of cause and effect.

Such is the nature of the conflict between causality and teleology. We must dispose of this conflict at once.

c. Teleology and Objections to Teleology, Immanent Teleology

If we consider teleology as a general principle, i.e., if we closely examine this view, according to which everything in the world is subject to certain purposes, it will not be difficult to grasp its complete absurdity. After all, what is a goal? The conception of a goal presupposes the conception of some one who sets this goal as a goal, i.e., who sets it consciously. There is no such thing as a purpose apart from him who conceives the purpose. A stone does not set any goals for itself, any more than does the sun, or any of the planets, or the entire solar system, or the Milky Way. A purpose is an idea which can be associated only with conscious living creatures, having desires, representing these desires to them-selves as goals, and aspiring to the realization of these desires (in other words, to “approach” a certain “goal”). Only a savage may ask the purpose pursued by a stone lying by the wayside. The savage imputes a soul to nature and to the stone. Therefore, “teleology” is dominant in his mind, and the stone acts in the manner of a conscious human being. The advocates of teleology are similar to this savage, for in their minds the entire world has a purpose, this purpose having been set by some unknown being. It is clear from the above that the conception of purpose, of planfulness, etc., is absolutely inapplicable to the world as a whole, and that the natural law of phenomena is not a teleological natural law.

It is not difficult to trace the roots of the conflict between the adherents of teleology and those of causality. Ever since human society has been divided into groups, some of which (the minority) rule, command, control, while the others are ruled, and obey them, men have been disposed to measure the entire world by this standard. As the earth holds kings, judges, rulers, etc., who make laws, pronounce judgments, impose punishments, so the universe has a celestial king, a celestial judge, his heavenly host, generals (arch-strategists). The universe has been conceived as a product of the creative will which—appropriately enough—gives serious attention to fixing the goals it has in mind, its “divine plan”. The causality in phenomena has been taken to be an expression of this divine will. Aristotle went so far as to say: “Nature is the goal” (

). Greek nomos (

“law”) meant both a “natural law” and a “moral law” (commandment, standard of conduct), as well as order, plan fulness, harmony.

As the omnipotence of the emperors was extended, the jurisprudence of ancient Rome also was transformed into a worldly study of divinity. Its further development proceeded hand in hand with dogmatic theology. Law now simply meant a standard (rule of conduct.— N.B.), emanating from the supreme power—the celestial imperator, in theology; the terrestrial God, in jurisprudence—and prescribing a certain conduct for its creatures. (E. Spektorsky: Sketches on the Philosophy of the Social Sciences, Series I, The Social Sciences and Theoretical Philosophy, in Russian, Warsaw, 1907, p. 158.) The system of causalities in nature began to be regarded as a system of divine legislation. The famous Kepler thought the corporeal universe had its pandects (Emperor Justinian’s codes of law were called pandects). Such conceptions are also found at later periods, for instance, the French physiocrats in the Eighteenth Century furnished the first masterful outline of capitalist society and confused the causality of natural and social phenomena with the laws of the state and the decrees of the divine powers. Thus, François Quesnay writes: “The fundamental social laws are the laws of the natural order, which are most advantageous for the human race…. These laws were fixed by the creator for all time. Obedience to these … (i.e., ‘divine’, ‘immutable’.— N.B.) laws must be maintained by the tutelary authority (autorité tutélaire).” (F. Quesnay: Despotisme de la Chine, chap, viii, par. 1, 2, Œuvres, Francfort, 1888, p. 637). Obviously, the laws of the tutelary authority (i.e., the bourgeois policeman) are here skilfully made to depend on the “divine creator” for the support of whom they were created.

Numerous other examples might be adduced, all going to show the same thing, namely, that the teleological standpoint is based on religion. In its origin, this standpoint is a crude and barbarous transfer of the earthly relations of slavery and submission, on the one hand, and domination on the other, to the universe as a whole. It fundamentally contradicts a scientific explanation, and is based on faith alone. No matter what fragrant sauce may be served with it, it remains a priestly point of view.

But how shall we then explain a number of phenomena in which the “purpose” is obvious to the naked eye (the “planfulness” of the construction of certain organs, social progress, the perfection of animal forms, of the human form, etc.)? If we assume a crudely teleological point of view and invoke God Almighty and his “plan”, the folly of this “explanation” will become at once apparent. Therefore, the teleological point of view assumes a more attenuated form in certain persons—the form of the doctrine of the so called “immanent teleology” (a purposefulness inherent in the phenomena of nature and society).

Before investigating this question, it is worth while to devote a few words to religious explanations. An intelligent bourgeois economist, Böhm-Bawerk, gives the following example. Let us assume, he says, that I have set up a theory to explain the universe, according to which it consists of a countless number of little devils, whose writhings and contortions produce all the phenomena in nature. These little devils, I add, are invisible and inaudible, may not be detected by the sense of smell nor seized by their tails. I defy anyone to refute this “theory”. It cannot be refuted outright, for I have fortified it by assuming the invisibility and intangibility of these little devils; yet everyone will recognize that it is humbug, for the simple reason that there is no proof of the correctness of such a conception.

Of like nature are all the religious pseudo-explanations. They are intrenched behind the intangibility of mysterious powers, or the essential insufficiency of our reason. A father of the Church has set up the following principle: “I believe, because it is absurd” (Credo quia absurdum). According to the Christian doctrine, God is one, but also three, which contradicts the rudiments of the multiplication table. But it is declared that “our weak reason cannot comprehend this mystery.” Obviously, the most ridiculous absurdities can be covered by such considerations.

This doctrine rejects the idea of a mysterious power, in the crude sense of the word. It speaks only of goals which are constantly being revealed by the course of events, of goals inherent in the very process of evolution. Let us clarify this conception by means of an example. Let us consider a certain type of animal. In the course of time, this type, by reason of a number of causes, alters and adapts itself to nature more and more. Its organs are constantly being perfected, i.e., they are progressing. Or, let us consider human society. No matter how we imagine the future of this society to be (whether this future will be socialism, or any other form of society), is it not apparent that the human type is growing, that man is becoming more “cultivated”, that he is “perfecting himself”, and that we, the lords of creation, are advancing on the road of civilization and progress? Precisely as the structure of the animal is becoming better adapted to its purpose, so also is society becoming more perfected in its structure, i.e., more adapted to plan. Here the goal (perfection) is revealed in the course of evolution. It is not designed in advance by divinity, but blows forth like the rose from its blossom, simultaneously with the development of this blossom into the rose, by virtue of certain causes.

Is this theory a correct one? No, it is not. It is merely a disguised and attenuated form of the teleological fallacy.

First, we must oppose the conception of a goal that is set by no one. This would be equivalent to speaking of thoughts without assuming a thinking means, or to speaking of wind in a region in which there is no air, or of moisture in a place where there is no fluid. As a matter of fact, when people speak of purposes that are “inherent” in something, they are often simultaneously and tacitly assuming the existence of an extremely delicate and inscrutable internal force, to which the setting of the purpose must be assigned. This mysterious force has on the surface but little similarity with the god who is crudely represented as a gray-haired old man with a beard and mustaches; but at bottom the god is again invisibly present, completely enveloped, however, by the most ingenious instruments of thought. We are again dealing with the same teleo...