<SPAN name="X"></SPAN>
<h2>X</h2>
<h2>MISCHIEVOUSLY OVERWORKING IT</h2>
<br/>
<p>I have dealt with the two general major
causes of friction in the daily use of the
machine. I will now deal with a minor
cause, and make an end of mere dailiness.
This minor cause—and after all I do not
know that its results are so trifling as to
justify the epithet 'minor'—is the straining
of the machine by forcing it to do
work which it was never intended to do.
Although we are incapable of persuading
our machines to do effectively that which
they are bound to do somehow, we continually
overburden them with entirely
unnecessary and inept tasks. We cannot,
it would seem, let things alone.</p>
<p>For example, in the ordinary household
the amount of machine horse-power
expended in fighting for the truth is really
quite absurd. This pure zeal for the
establishment and general admission of
the truth is usually termed 'contradictoriness.'
But, of course, it is not that; it
is something higher. My wife states that
the Joneses have gone into a new flat, of
which the rent is £165 a year. Now, Jones
has told me personally that the rent of his
new flat is £156 a year. I correct my wife.
Knowing that she is in the right, she
corrects me. She cannot bear that a
falsehood should prevail. It is not a
question of £9, it is a question of truth.
Her enthusiasm for truth excites my
enthusiasm for truth. Five minutes ago
I didn't care twopence whether the rent
of the Joneses' new flat was £165 or £156
or £1056 a year. But now I care intensely
that it is £156. I have formed myself
into a select society for the propagating
of the truth about the rent of the Joneses'
new flat, and my wife has done the same.
In eloquence, in argumentative skill, in
strict supervision of our tempers, we each
of us squander enormous quantities of
that h.-p. which is so precious to us.
And the net effect is naught.</p>
<p>Now, if one of us two had understood
the elementary principles of human
engineering, that one would have said
(privately): 'Truth is indestructible.
Truth will out. Truth is never in a hurry.
If it doesn't come out to-day it will come
out to-morrow or next year. It can take
care of itself. Ultimately my wife (or
my husband) will learn the essential cosmic
truth about the rent of the Joneses' new
flat. I already know it, and the moment
when she (or he) knows it also will be the
moment of my triumph. She (or he) will
not celebrate my triumph openly, but it
will be none the less real. And my
reputation for accuracy and calm restraint
will be consolidated. If, by a rare mischance,
I am in error, it will be vastly
better for me in the day of my undoing
that I have not been too positive now.
Besides, nobody has appointed me sole
custodian of the great truth concerning
the rent of the Joneses' new flat. I was
not brought into the world to be a safe-deposit,
and more urgent matters summon
me to effort.' If one of us had meditated
thus, much needless friction would have
been avoided and power saved; <i>amour-propre</i>
would not have been exposed to
risks; the sacred cause of truth would not
in the least have suffered; and the rent
of the Joneses' new flat would anyhow
have remained exactly what it is.</p>
<p>In addition to straining the machine by
our excessive anxiety for the spread of
truth, we give a very great deal too much
attention to the state of other people's
machines. I cannot too strongly, too
sarcastically, deprecate this astonishing
habit. It will be found to be rife in nearly
every household and in nearly every office.
We are most of us endeavouring to
rearrange the mechanism in other heads
than our own. This is always dangerous
and generally futile. Considering the
difficulty we have in our own brains,
where our efforts are sure of being accepted
as well-meant, and where we have at any
rate a rough notion of the machine's
construction, our intrepidity in adventuring
among the delicate adjustments
of other brains is remarkable. We are
cursed by too much of the missionary
spirit. We must needs voyage into the
China of our brother's brain, and explain
there that things are seriously wrong in
that heathen land, and make ourselves
unpleasant in the hope of getting them put
right. We have all our own brain and
body on which to wreak our personality,
but this is not enough; we must extend
our personality further, just as though we
were a colonising world-power intoxicated
by the idea of the 'white man's burden.'</p>
<p>One of the central secrets of efficient
daily living is to leave our daily companions
alone a great deal more than we
do, and attend to ourselves. If a daily
companion is conducting his life upon
principles which you know to be false,
and with results which you feel to be
unpleasant, the safe rule is to keep your
mouth shut. Or if, out of your singular
conceit, you are compelled to open it,
open it with all precautions, and with
the formal politeness you would use to
a stranger. Intimacy is no excuse for
rough manners, though the majority of us
seem to think it is. You are not in
charge of the universe; you are in charge
of yourself. You cannot hope to manage
the universe in your spare time, and if
you try you will probably make a mess of
such part of the universe as you touch,
while gravely neglecting yourself. In
every family there is generally some one
whose meddlesome interest in other
machines leads to serious friction in his
own. Criticise less, even in the secrecy
of your chamber. And do not blame at
all. Accept your environment and adapt
yourself to it in silence, instead of noisily
attempting to adapt your environment
to yourself. Here is true wisdom. You
have no business trespassing beyond the
confines of your own individuality. In
so trespassing you are guilty of impertinence.
This is obvious. And yet one of
the chief activities of home-life consists
in prancing about at random on other
people's private lawns. What I say
applies even to the relation between
parents and children. And though my
precept is exaggerated, it is purposely
exaggerated in order effectively to balance
the exaggeration in the opposite direction.</p>
<p>All individualities, other than one's own,
are part of one's environment. The evolutionary
process is going on all right, and
they are a portion of it. Treat them
as inevitable. To assert that they are
inevitable is not to assert that they are
unalterable. Only the alteration of them
is not primarily your affair; it is theirs.
Your affair is to use them, as they are,
without self-righteousness, blame, or complaint,
for the smooth furtherance of your
own ends. There is no intention here to
rob them of responsibility by depriving
them of free-will while saddling <i>you</i> with
responsibility as a free agent. As your
environment they must be accepted as
inevitable, because they <i>are</i> inevitable.
But as centres themselves they have their
own responsibility: which is not yours.
The historic question: 'Have we free-will,
or are we the puppets of determinism?'
enters now. As a question it is fascinating
and futile. It has never been, and
it never will be, settled. The theory of
determinism cannot be demolished by
argument. But in his heart every man,
including the most obstinate supporter of
the theory, demolishes it every hour of
every day. On the other hand, the
theory of free-will can be demolished by
ratiocination! So much the worse for
ratiocination! <i>If we regard ourselves as
free agents, and the personalities surrounding
us as the puppets of determinism</i>, we
shall have arrived at the working compromise
from which the finest results of
living can be obtained. The philosophic
experience of centuries, if it has proved
anything, has proved this. And the man
who acts upon it in the common, banal
contracts and collisions of the difficult
experiment which we call daily life, will
speedily become convinced of its practical
worth.</p>
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