In some ways the entire
relationship
of duties and rights transcends them.
SIMMEL-Georg-Sociology-Inquiries-Into-the-Construction-of-Social-Forms-2vol
Her universal qualification as a woman is thereby a priori determined to be organically established in the interests of the circle of her house, in the most extreme sociologi- cal contrast, say, to the merchant, in whose individual activity, as we saw, the universal form stands out as though by itself in contrast to the particular contents.
It appears as though in very primitive ethnological relationships the disassociation of women was negligible and they acted sometimes as a party closed off from the men.
Probably in these cases the woman was not yet so completely absorbed by the interests of the household as in more developed epochs; with all the tyrannizing by the man, nevertheless, the simpler and less differentiated circumstances of family and household do not take them so far from the universal, with
19 'Woman' here translates Frau which in German, of course, is 'wife' and 'woman'--ed.
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? all the women divided, and they do not melt down into as specialized an obligatory sphere as the more cultivated household represents it.
In that now in the present the latter has been relaxed enough around the 'woman question' to allow a general issue of women as a total- ity to arise and to lead to all sorts of actions, changed circumstances, formations of community--this manifests a very characteristically sociological phenomenon. The isolation of women from one another by enclosing each one of them in an entirely individualized circle of interests rests on fully differentiating women from men. With the training of the mind and activity, with the claim of personality and relationship to the surrounding world, the man appears as a whole in the ongoing processes of our culture as the higher being, and beyond the question of status both genders appear so essentially different that they are destined to be only opposing complements; the feminine existence has its meaning exclusively in that which the man cannot be or desire to do; life's meaning for them hinges thus not on relationship to the same but to the different, and they are all but completely taken up with this. However, most recently now women have fixed their eyes on an equality in all respects and have come to some opportune beginnings: in personal position and economic independence, in mental forma- tion and consciousness of personality, in social freedom and the roles in public life--they place themselves now in direct comparison to men; a party-like difference towards men that emphasizes the solidarity of women's interests with one another is announced in the moment in which the diminishment--as a cause or as an effect of it--of that prin- ciple of being and acting differently, right and interest different from men; in caricatures of the movement--women striving in their whole essence and appearance for complete masculinity--there occurs quite often the most passionate antagonism towards men. This constellation is readily understandable. In the measure of equality of position, of value, of qualities, independence must be developed over against him with whom one until now stood in a relationship of the lower or at best the merely other and therefore relied on for one's being. This one- dimensional freedom, however, obviously allows what that being has in common with others to become more strongly visible and effective, and until now that did not occur on account of the subordinate and complementary relationship. So there exists here an extraordinarily pure case of the formation of a higher, conceptually universal circle, differentiated from the narrower circles that until now relegated every element to a singular relation. One should not get the idea that the
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? proletarian and the bourgeois women's movements are moving in dia- metrically opposed practical directions. The proletarian woman was given socio-economic freedom by industrial development--however miserable it may be for its individual women. The girl goes into the factory at an age that certainly would still require the more intimate atmosphere of the parental home; the married woman is removed by work outside the house from household duties towards husband and children. Here then the woman is actually freed from the singular bond in which she was entirely determined by the subordination under the man or by activity completely different from him. This social reality remains entirely untouched by the fact that it is undesired and injuri- ous, and that the desire of the proletarian woman is for a limitation of that 'freedom,' for the possibility of being again to a greater degree a familial being, wife and mother. Within the bourgeois stratum the same economic development removed countless housekeeping activities from the home, both mere functions and productive creations, and thereby deprived an enormous number of women the sufficient testing of their powers--while they nevertheless, certainly for the most part, remained harnessed within the boundaries of the home. Their longing, then, is for the freedom of economic or other activity; they feel themselves subjectively detached from the particular sphere of the household, just as the proletarian woman feels that way from the outside. From this difference of strata in which the detachment is complete, there follows the difference of practical desire: the one class of women wants back in the house, the other wants out of the house. However, apart from this, this difference still gives way to equivalences: the woman question with regard marriage law, property law, authority over children, etc. affects both classes equally--so the essentials remain in force that in the one as in the other form the sociological isolation of the woman, the result of her integration into the home, is pressured by modern industrialization toward dissolution. Whether this occurs in the form of too much or in that of too little, in both cases the independence won as well as that striven for shifts the accent to the fact that the woman is simply a woman who shares practical situations and needs with other women. With the dissolution of complete, particular occupation by the household, the universal concept of woman loses its purely abstract character and becomes the leading idea of a membership group that is now already revealed in embryo by purely female support associations, associations for attaining rights for women, female student unions, women's congresses, agitation by women for political and social inter-
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? ests. Corresponding to the extraordinary closeness of the historically existing ties of the concept, woman, to the specific life contents of the individuals--which is much greater than correspondingly in the case of the worker and the business person--indeed no one today can say what the actual direction and limit of the movement is; but what has been achieved is that very many individual women experience themselves as standing at the intersection of groupings that tie them on the one hand to the persons and contents of their personal lives, on the other to women in general.
Should the differentiation here bring about the construction of the superordinate sphere from that of the more individual, in which it for- merly lay only latent, then it now has, secondly, even more coordinated circles to free from one another. The guild, e. g. , exercised oversight over the whole personality in the sense that the interest of the craft had to regulate the entirety of one's activity. One who became an apprentice under a master became at the same time a member of the master's family etc. ; in brief, the specialized occupation became most firmly the center of all of life, often including the political and affec- tive life. Of the forces that led to the dissolution of these amalgama- tions, that lying in the division of labor is here under consideration. In every human being whose various life contents are guided by a circle of interest, the power of this latter will ceteris paribus be reduced to the same degree as it is reduced in itself in scope. Narrowness of consciousness causes a complex occupation, a multiplicity of concepts accompanying it, even the other unrelated ideas about the world, to be drawn into its insular spell. 20 Substantive relationships between the narrowness of consciousness and these elements need not exist at all; through the necessity, in an occupation not narrowed by the division of labor, to exchange ideas relatively quickly--with the symbolic man- ner of speaking to which one is bound in more complicated problems in thinking--such a measure of psychic energy is consumed that the cultivation of other interests suffers from it, and now those thus weak- ened come all the more likely into associative or other dependence on that central cognitive circle. Just as a person filled with a great passion places even the most remote content, every encounter with superfluous material that runs through one's consciousness, into some kind of
20 'Insular spell': Simmel uses the term Bann, which means both 'excommunication' and 'spell'--ed.
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? connection to that passion, just as one's whole mental life receives its light and its shadows from it--so a corresponding mental centraliza- tion is effected by every vocation that leaves only a relatively small amount of consciousness for life's other relationships. Herein lies one of the most important internal consequences of the division of labor; it is grounded in the psychological fact, already mentioned, that in a given time, all other things being equal, the more conceptual power is employed, the more frequently the consciousness of one concept must be exchanged for another. This exchange of ideas has the same result as the intensity of a passion does in its case. Therefore, an activity not subject to the division of labor, again all things being equal, becomes a central one sooner than does a specialized one; everything else is drawn into an absorbing place in the course of a person's life, and certainly especially in periods during which the rest of life's relation- ships still lack the variety and change-filled stimulations of the modern era. Furthermore, one-dimensional occupations tend to be of a more mechanical nature and therefore--wherever they by chance do not render mental energy entirely atrophied by the complete absorption of strength and time--allow more space in consciousness for other con- nections, with their value and their independence. This coordinating segregation of interests that were formerly merged into a central one is promoted also by yet another consequence of the division of labor that coheres with the above discussed detachment of the higher social concept from the more particularly determined circles. Associations between central and peripheral concepts and circles of interest, which were constructed merely from psychological and historical causes, are for the most part held substantively necessary for as long a time until experience shows us personalities that exhibit the very same center along with a different periphery or an equivalent periphery along with a different center. If then membership in a vocation would render the rest of life's interests dependent on it, this dependence would have to loosen with the increase of occupational branches because, in spite of their differentiation, many kinds of similarities come to light in all the rest of the interests.
This form of development becomes most important for the inner and outer circumstances of people. A certain element in us is bound to another one that represents a universal character in a particular pattern shared with many others; and the bond takes up this second one originally in the unbroken coherence of its universality as well as its particular type. Now a process of dissolution occurs in this way:
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? the first element binds somewhere with a third that offers for sure the universal of the second but in an entirely other particularity. This experience can have two rather opposed consequences, depending on how both parts of the second element are blended. Should this be the case in a very close type, the bond of the elements from which we began is altogether severed. This will frequently occur, e. g. , with the connection of the moral life to the religious. For the individual person, one's religion as a rule is the religion; any other is not at all consid- ered. If that person has grounded morality on the particular concepts of this religion and then has the convincing experience that another morality, just as good, just as correct and valuable, is derived for other individuals fully from other religious ideas, then probably only in very rare instances will one conclude: morality is then in general linked to the religious sentiment only by that which is common to all religions. Rather one is more likely to draw the sweeping conclusion: morality actually has nothing to do with religion; one will then acquire from that the autonomy of morality, and not the likewise at least logically justi- fied idea of connecting it to the sustaining universality of religion. It is different, e. g. , where people acquire the feeling of having fulfilled one's duty only from an altruism that is ongoingly bound up for them with a painful conquest of the 'I,' with an ascetic self-mortification. Should one then notice in other people that the same calm and satisfaction of conscience has its source in an easily and freely exercised altruism, in a life obviously serene for others, it is then not so easily concluded that the sought-for inner peace and the feeling, to be something valu- able, would have had nothing at all to do with the dedication to the non-ego, but only that the particularly ascetic development of altruism is not required for it, that this, even in an entirely different form and color, has the same result, even though its universality is still preserved. The aforementioned issue of the detachment of occupational interest from the rest of life's interests by means of the multiplicity of occupa- tions, though only an inclination in the earlier phenomenon, becomes a certain intermediate phenomenon as a primary consequence. That a person has an occupation at all will always be connected to the total- ity of one's life; this entirely formal universal will always function as a center toward which many other points of life's periphery are oriented. However, this remains itself a formal, functional accomplishment of the occupation and is compatible with the increasing loosening of all occupational contents from the truly personal in life.
The growing differentiation of occupations had to show the individual
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? how the very same orientation of different life contents can be linked with different occupations and thus must be independent from one's occupation to an increasingly greater extent. And the differentiation of those other life contents similarly advancing with the cultural move- ment lead to the same result. The diversity of occupation along with a homogeneity of the rest of the interests and the diversity of these along with a homogeneity of occupation had to lead, in the same way, to their psychological and actual detachment from one another. Should we look at the progress of the differentiation and concentration, from schematic points of view external to those of greater intimacy, there is manifest then a definite analogy in the theoretical realm: it was earlier believed that one could, by the collection of larger groups of life forms according to the characteristics of an external affinity, resolve the most important tasks of understanding them; but one obtained a yet deeper and more correct insight only by discovering morphological and physiological similarities in apparently very different things that one had brought under correspondingly different conceptual types, and thus one came to laws of organic life that were realized at widely separated points in the array of organic beings, and the knowledge of them brought about unification of what one earlier had distributed according to external criteria in conceptual types of completely independent origin. Here the collecting of materially homogeneous from heterogeneous circles marks the higher level of development.
A circle expanding around a new rational center in place of a more mechanical-superficial one does not always need to assemble its material from various constructs; i. e. , it need not always mean the creation of new groups. Rather, it happens that the exact same circle is transformed from one to another form, that by way of the already existing synthesis a higher, more organic concept displaces the cruder and more random from its root-like, collating function. To an extent the twelfth century development followed in Rouen and other northern French cities in the so-called iurati communiae follows this schema. 21 These formed a com- munity obligated by a mutual oath that generally coincided with the citizenry probably in essence but not completely and not in principle. Then we hear in the constitutions of the community about inhabitants who violate the iurati, as well as those who pretend falsely to belong to them. Now, however, even further: whoever lived a year and a day in the
21 Iurati communiae--Latin, 'oaths of community'--ed.
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? city, as the law specified, is supposed to swear allegiance to a communia, and whoever wants to get out of it is supposed to leave the area of the city. This commune grew in strength everywhere to such an extent that in the end it drew into itself the entire population, not always entirely voluntarily. Here then was at first a purely local relatively accidental association of city dwellers as such. This will, however, gradually grow from an intentional, founded-on-principle, purpose-driven association until the entire complex, without being essentially modified in its mate- rial and in the fact of its solidarity, is the bearer of this new higher type of union. The rational form, intersected by an integrating idea from an organized circle, is not the more primitive, if you will, more natural, but only the, so to speak, more solemn, more spiritual form, in which the latter comes together as though it were new. In matters of the broadest scope, this evolution in form is repeated in the relational bond between colonies and their mother country. European coloniza- tion, since Columbus and Vasco de Gama, allowed areas that lay quite far from the mother country and drew as good as no advantage from belonging to it still to be obliged on that basis to pay tribute and be considered a mere property. This objectively unjustified mode of linkage led to the secession of most colonies. At first when the thought arose, which Greater Britain represented, that the colony is simply a province of the mother country having equal rights with every province within the same realm, the basis for secession was absent. Since the manner of linkage has now been changed from a crudely external welding to one conforming to a higher sense of belonging, whose unity is no longer a rigid one but rather elastic, self-administration of the colony is rela- tive independence of the member of an organic body. Instead of the simultaneity of the schematic and the rational synthesis, to which in the earlier examples the style of the new was driven by the old, here the same differentiation in form exists in a sequence.
If the triumph of the rationally objective principle over the superfi- cially schematic thus goes hand in hand with universal cultural progress, this connection nevertheless, because it is not an a priori, can be broken under certain circumstances. The solidarity of the family appears, certainly in contrast to the bond according to objective viewpoints, as a mechanically external principle, yet on the other hand as one objec- tively grounded, if one views it in contrast to one of a purely numeri- cal arrangement, as is seen in the grouping in tens and hundreds in ancient Peru, in China, and in a large part of ancient Europe. While the socio-political homogeneity of the family and its responsibility as
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? a whole for each member makes good sense and appears all the more rational the more one learns how the operation of heredity operates, the forging together of a continuously standardized number of persons to a group treated as a unity--with regard to structure, military duty, taxation, criminal responsibility, etc. --wholly lacks a rational root, and yet it acts, where we can follow it, as an ersatz of the kin principle and is of use to a higher stage of culture. The justification for it also lies not in the terminus a quo--with regard to this the family principle as a ground for differentiation and integration surpasses all others--but in the terminus ad quem; for the higher purpose of the state this is, precisely on account of its schematic character, an easily understood and easily organized division obviously more suitable than the older one. The military orders of ancient times were for the most part built on the principle of the clan- or family-like division. The Greeks of the heroic period fought according to phylae and phratries, the Germans accord- ing to tribes and lineages, the ancient Scots according to clans, each of which was recognizable in larger common undertakings by special insignia. This organic structure certainly had considerable purposeful- ness: a large capacity for holding the individual section together, a spur to ambition, a certain relieving of the high command for the concern with individuals and for the constituting of each cadre. However, these advantages were paid for by the frequent flare up of old prejudices and conflicts of the clans against one another and the hindering of the unity of the entire movement, the individual sections lacking altogether the organic bond and solidarity among themselves to the same degree to which each possessed these characteristics in itself. The totality was then certainly formed inorganically from its elements in spite of or because these elements were whole in themselves. And the mechani- cal construction of later armies without any kind of concern for the inner relationship among the elements of the division, seen from the standpoint of the whole, is internally much more organic when one understands under this concept the purposeful integrating regulation of every tiny part by a unifying idea, the reciprocal determination between each element and every other. This new ordering grasps the individual directly, and in that its divisions and groupings cut across all the others ruthlessly, it destroys organic bonds in favor of a mechanism, promoting though in an incomparably higher way the purpose from which that form, originally more organic in meaning, draws its value. Here discourse is generally about the concept of technique, certainly essential for more advanced times. Over against the more directionless,
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? more instinctively integrating constitution of life of primitive epochs, latter times succeed at achieving more cultural objectives with more mechanical means. So in the principles of a parliamentary election, in the way the precincts established for it cut through the pre-existing groups, this development stands out. Representation by categories--as, e. g. , the Estates-General under Philip the Fair were representatives of clergy, nobility, and cities--appear at first as the natural and organic over against the purely external division of electoral bodies--as the Netherlands' Estates-General under Philipp II were local representa- tives of the individual provinces. The spatial enclosure includes such manifold often irreconcilable interests that a concerted expression of will by a single representative as well as that representative's vote is disqualified; the representation of interests, however, a principle more rational than that mechanical-external one, seems precisely to succeed at this. In reality the case is quite plain with regard to the army divi- sion. The individual groups--the complex of interests with its repre- sentatives--are in the final case more organically construed, but they stand more inorganically next to one another. The territorial mode of election is certainly more mechanical, but the exclusively territorial election does not also need to mean a representation of the exclusively territorial interest; rather it is precisely the technique for the organic composition of the whole, in that the single Member of Parliament in principle represents the whole country. The emerging partisan division according to political tendencies, following its concept, then pertains only to the variety of convictions with regard to the means which are solely important for achieving the well-being of the whole. The representa- tion then of estates or of interests, as the case may be, with the logical strength of a higher concept, cuts across the superficiality of regional boundaries and in the process by this partial rationalism cheats the local-mechanical division as the technique for the much higher organic synthesis of the whole.
This is a principal developmental, by all means also sociological, schema of the culture: that meaningful, deeply significant institutions and patterns of action are replaced by those that appear in and of themselves completely mechanical, external, soulless; only the higher purpose, lying beyond that earlier stage, gives its combined efforts or its subsequent result a cultural significance, which each individual ele- ment must itself do without; this character is carried by the modern soldier in contrast to the knight of the Middle Ages, machine work in contrast to handicrafts, the modern uniformity and leveling of so many
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? circumstances of life that were earlier left up to the free self-education of the individual; now the enterprise is on the one hand too large and too complex to express a, so to speak, complete concept in any one of its elements; each of these can instead have only a mechanical and, for its own part, meaningless character and contribute its part to the realization of a concept only as a member of a totality. On the other hand there is often operative a differentiation that releases the mental element of activity, so that the mechanical and the mental obtain a separate existence, as, e. g. , the worker at the embroidery machine exer- cises a much more mindless activity than the embroiderer has objecti- fied in it while the spirit of this activity, so to speak, was transferred to the machine. Thus social institutions, hierarchies, assemblages can become more mechanical and superficial and yet serve the advance of culture, the inner unity of a totality, when a higher social purpose arises, to which they have to subordinate themselves and which no longer allows them to preserve for themselves the spirit and meaning with which an earlier situation completed the teleological set; and thus that exchange of the tribal principle for the principle of social division by tens is explained, although this actually appears as an integration of the objectively heterogeneous in contrast to the natural homogeneity of the family.
CHAPTER SEVEN THE POOR PERSON
Insofar as the human individual is social in nature, to each person's duty there corresponds another's right. Perhaps even more profound is the view that there are only rights in the first instance, that every individual has claims--those of human beings in general and those arising from their special situations--which as such become duties for the other. But since everyone who is thus entitled is also somehow obli- gated, a network of rights and duties back and forth arises in which it is the right that is the primary, leading factor; duty is admittedly only its unavoidable correlate situated in the same activity. One can look at society in general as a reciprocity of moral, legal, and conventional relationships, and as a reality justified under many other categories; that this implies a duty for others is only, so to speak, a logical or technical consequence, and if the unthinkable were to happen, that satisfying every claim in a way other than in the form of fulfilling the obligation were to be sufficient, society would not require the category of duty. With a radicalism that admittedly does not correspond to psychological reality, in the sense that an ethical-ideal construction would be feasible, all of love and sympathy, magnanimity and religious impulse could be regarded as the rights of the one receiving them. Ethical rigorism has already made the assertion about those motivations, that at the most what a person could accomplish at all would be the fulfillment of a duty, and that this already demand of itself what appears from a lax or self-flattering attitude as meritorious beyond duty; and from here it is only a step behind every duty on the part of one who is obligated, to establish the right of the entitled person. Indeed, this actually appears as the ultimately attainable and rational basis upon which one's actions toward another are demanded.
Now here appears a basic contrast between the sociological and ethical categories. While all relational acts are derived from a right--in the broadest sense that includes legal right as a component--the rela- tionship of one person to another has penetrated the moral values of the individual completely and by itself determines their direction. But opposed to the unquestionable idealism of this standpoint stands the
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? no less profound refusal of any inter-individual origin of duty: our duties would be duties toward ourselves, and there would be no others at all. They may have action directed toward the other as content, but their form and motivation could not come to us as a duty from that, but would arise as pure autonomy from the 'I' and from its sheer inte- rior, completely independent of anything outside itself. Only for right would the other be the terminus a quo of the motivation in our ethical behavior; in contrast, for morality as such the other is unconditionally the terminus ad quem. Ultimately, we are responsible for the morality of our actions only to ourselves, to the better 'I' in us, to the respect we have for ourselves, or as one may put the enigmatic point, what the soul finds within itself as its ultimate authority and from which it freely decides in what way the rights of the other are duties for it.
This principal dualism in the basic feeling for the sense of moral action has an example or empirical symbol in the different conceptions about providing assistance to the poor. The duty to provide it can appear as a mere correlate of the claims of the poor person. Especially in countries where begging is a regular business, the beggar believes, more or less naively, in a right to the alms, the refusal of which the beggar reprimands as the evasion of an obligatory tribute. The basis for the claim for support from the membership group has a completely differ- ent character--within the same type. A social perspective, according to which the individual is but the product of the social milieu, accords the beggar the right to demand a compensation for every emergency and loss. But even where no such extreme absence of self-responsibility exists, one could place emphasis, from a social perspective, on the right of the needy as the basis of all poor relief. Only when one assumes such a right, at least as a socio-legal fiction, the conduct of poor relief appears to be removed from what is arbitrary, from the dependence on chance financial conditions and other insecurities; the reliability of a function is increased everywhere if right constructs its methodological starting point in the correlation-pair of right and duty underlying it: for a person is on average more quickly prepared to claim a right than to fulfill a duty. Add to that the humanitarian motive, which makes the application and acceptance of support inwardly easy for the poor, since they are simply realizing their proper right; the dejection, the shame, and the degradation from charity are neutralized for the recipient to the extent that it is not granted out of mercy, a sense of duty, or expediency, but to the extent that it can be demanded. Since this right obviously has limits that are to be separately determined in every individual instance,
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? the right to support will not change these motivations toward others in a substantially quantitative sense. Their inner meaning is only established by it and rises out of a principal opinion about the relationship of the individual to other individuals and to the whole. The right to support belongs in the same category as the right to work and the right to one's existence. The obscurity of the quantitative limit that is suitable for this and other 'human rights' admittedly reaches its maximum especially with those where the support is with money, whose purely quantitative and relative character makes the objective demarcation of the claims much more difficult than, perhaps, the support in kind--as soon as it does not concern very complicated or individualized cases in which the poor person will use monetary help for greater purpose and productiv- ity than one could achieve with support in kind with its providential character. Toward whom the right of the poor is in fact aimed is also in no way clear, and the decision about that marks deep sociological differences. The poor person, whose situation seems to be an injustice of the world order and who demands a remedy from, so to speak, the whole of existence, will easily make every individual who is found better situated by chance answerable to this demand out of solidarity. This creates a range: from criminal proletarians who see enemies in all well-dressed people, representatives of the class that 'disinherited' them, and who therefore rob them with a good conscience, to the humble beggars who implore for offerings "for the sake of God," i. e. as though each individual were obligated to fill the gaps in an order actually willed but not completely realized by God. Here the demand of the poor is aimed at the individual, but not at a particular one but only by virtue of the solidarity of humanity in general. Beyond this correlation, which allows precisely the whole of being, in view of the demand directed against it, to crystallize around any given individual as a representative, there are the richly shaded particular collectivi- ties to whom the demand of the poor person turns. State, municipal community, parish, professional organization, friendship circles, and families may have as wholes exceedingly different relationships with their membership; still each of these relationships seems to contain an element that is actualized as a right for support in case an individual becomes pauperized. This is also common among such sociological relationships where they are perhaps otherwise very heterogeneous in nature. The claims of the poor springing from such bonds combine in unique ways in primitive settings, in which tribal customs and religious duties dominate the individual as an undifferentiated unity. Among the
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? ancient Semites the claim of the poor for participation in meals did not have a correlate in personal generosity but in social membership and religious custom. Where care of the poor has a sufficient basis in an organic linkage among the members, the right of the poor gener- ally possesses a stronger emphasis--whether it derives religiously from metaphysical unity or from biologically based tribal or familial unity. We will see that where, on the contrary, the care for the poor depends teleologically on one reaching a goal through it instead of causally on an existing and real unity of the association of a group, the claim of the poor as a right is reduced to complete nothingness.
In fact while right and duty only appear in the cases referred to as two sides of an absolute relational unity, wholly new changes come about as soon as the duty of the giver, instead of the right of the recipient, forms the point of departure. In the extreme case, the poor person vanishes completely as a deserving subject and point of interest; the motive for giving lies exclusively in the importance of the giving for the giver. As Jesus said to the rich young man: give your possession to the poor--obviously his concern was not at all for the poor but rather for the soul of the young man, for whose salvation the renunciation was a mere means or symbol of salvation. The later Christian alms-giving is of the same nature: it is nothing but a form of asceticism or 'good work' that improves the otherworldly fate of the giver. The excesses of begging in the Middle Ages, the meaninglessness in the use of offer- ings, the demoralization of the proletariat by indiscriminate offerings, the contributions that worked against all cultural activity--this is the revenge, as it were, of almsgiving for a motive that is purely subjectivistic and one that takes into consideration only the giver of the offering, but not the recipient. From such a restriction on the person that gives, the motivation goes away--without being devoted to the recipient--as soon as the welfare of the social whole necessitates the care of the poor. That happens, willingly or required by law, in order to not allow the poor person to become an active, dangerous enemy of society, in order to make the diminished power of the poor person once again productive for it, and in order to prevent the degeneration of the poor person's descendents. Therefore the poor person as a person, the reflection of the situation of the poor in the person's feelings, is just as indifferent as it is for those who give alms for the sake of the salvation of their own soul; the subjective egoism of the latter is indeed overcome, but not for the sake of the poor but for that of society: the poor person receiving the offering is not the goal but a mere means, as in the former
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? case. The dominance of the social point of view of alms is proven by the fact that, from that perspective, it can just as well be refused--and indeed often personal pity or the unpleasant situation of saying "No" would directly move us to give.
Thus the care for the poor as a public arrangement now points to a very unique sociological constellation. It is thoroughly personal in content; it does not do anything other than relieve individual difficul- ties. It thereby differs from all other arrangements of public welfare and protection. For these would benefit all citizens--the military and police, school and roads, court and church, parliament and research. In principle these are not directed toward people as distinct individuals but rather to their totality itself; the union of many or all is the object of these institutions. The care of the poor, in contrast, in its concrete effects is entirely concerned with individuals and their condition. And precisely this individual becomes the destination of the modern abstract form of welfare, but not completely its ultimate purpose, which rather lies in the protection and support of the community. Indeed, one can- not designate the poor as a means to this--which would still improve the person's position--since the social action does not serve them but only a certain objective means of a material and administrative kind in order to eliminate the dangers threatened by them and to do away with the detractions from the achievable public interest. For sure this formal constellation apparently holds simply not only for the general whole but also for smaller circles: there is even unlimited help within the family not only for the sake of the person who is supported but thereby it would be no disgrace for the family and the family would not lose its reputation through the mere fact of a member's poverty. The support granted by the English labor unions to their members during unemployment was meant not so much to bring about an alleviation of individual want as to prevent the unemployed from working too cheaply out of need and thus depress the wage rate of the whole work force. From this meaning of welfare it becomes clear that, while it takes from the prosperous and gives to the poor, it still in no way approaches an equalization of these individual positions and that its idea will not at all overcome the tendency for the differentiation of society into rich and poor. Rather, the structure of society, as it simply exists, relies basically on the sharpest difference from any socialist and communist efforts that would have overcome this very structure. Its intent is precisely to mitigate some of the extreme manifestations of social division enough so that every structure can rely on it further. If it depended on the interest
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? in the individual poor person, there would in principle be no suitable limit where the provision of goods would have to stop, before it would achieve equality. But since it occurs instead of that, in the interest of the whole society--of political, familial, and any other socially defined circles--it has no basis for being sufficient in kind or quantity for the individual, since the preservation of the concerned totality in its status quo requires it.
Where this purely social, centralist teleology exists, the care of the poor offers perhaps the widest sociological tension between the imme- diate and remote end of an action. Emotionally, the alleviation of the subjective need is so categorical an end in itself that to dethrone it from its position of last resort and to make it a mere technique for the supra-subjective ends of a social unity, is a most extreme triumph of the social, a distancing of society from the individual that, with all its external inconspicuousness, is more fundamental and radical in its coolness and abstract character than the sacrifices of the individual for the whole, whereby means and end tend to be bound together in one emotional line.
The unique complication of duty and right that is found in modern government welfare is explained in this basic sociological conceptual- ization. In more than one instance, the principle confronts us that the duty to support the poor would exist on the part of the state, but no right on the part of the poor to be supported would correspond to it. As is expressly emphasized in England, for example, they have no cause for complaint or claim for damages for unlawfully denied support.
In some ways the entire relationship of duties and rights transcends them. The right that corresponds to every duty of the state is not theirs but that of every individual citizen for the taxes levied for the poor to be raised to such a high level and be used in such a way that the public purposes of caring for the poor are actually served as well. Thus the poor would not have a legal cause for action if the care for the poor were neglected, but only the other members indirectly injured by this neglect. Thus if one could prove, for example, that a thief would have refrained from a robbery if the legally proper and requested poor relief had been granted him, in principle the person robbed could prosecute the welfare agency for damages. Support for the poor occupies the same place in legal teleology as the protection of animals. No one among us is punished for simply tormenting an animal, but only for having done it "publicly or in a way that causes scandal. " Thus not the abused ani- mal but the consideration for the witnesses of the abuse motivates the
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? punishment. This exclusion of the poor, which grants them no ultimate position in the teleological chain--indeed as we saw, not even really the status of being a means--is also revealed in the fact that in the modern relatively democratic states almost only here the persons having an essential interest in the administration are absolutely uninvolved in the administration of it. For a conception thusly noted, the care for the poor is just an expenditure of public resources for public purposes; and since its entire teleology thus lies outside of the poor themselves--which correspondingly is not the case with the interests of other administra- tive matters--it is only logical for the principle of self-administration otherwise acknowledged to some degree not to apply to the poor and the care of them. If the state is somehow obliged by a law to divert a torrent of water and thus manage to irrigate a certain district, the brook is somewhat in the situation of the support of the poor by the state: they are admittedly the objects of duty, but not the bearers of a right corresponding to it, which is what the lands adjacent to the brook are. But if the exclusively centralizing interest prevails at first, so can the right-duty relationship also be shifted in view of utilitarian considerations. The draft of the Prussian poor law of 1842 emphasized that the state must undertake the care of the poor in the interest of the public's common good. To that end it would order under public law that their agencies be bound to the support of needy individuals; it would not be about the latter themselves, who would possess no legal claim. This is indicated more pointedly where the state law imposes a duty on the better situated relatives to feed the poor. Here at first glance the poor person actually seems to have a claim on the prosperous relative, a claim that the state endeavors to secure and enforce. The inner sense is different, however. The political community provides for the poor for practical reasons, and in turn it creates on its part the backing for support on the relatives since the costs would otherwise be prohibitive to it or at least believed to be so. The immediate claim of one person on another that is in play, to an extent, between the poor and the rich brother and which is only a moral one, does not apply to the law at all; the law has exclusively the interests of the whole to look after and perceives it from both sides: the poor who are supported and the cost it exacts from their relatives. Such proceedings as the following show that this is the sociological structure of the sustenance law and that they would in no way give the force of law to what is only a moral duty: Certainly the moral responsibility for support among siblings is a most highly stringent one. However, as it was meant to be legally
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? established in the first draft of the civil code, the motives recognized the extraordinary hardness of it without further comment, and the introduction thereby gave the justification that the public burden of the poor would otherwise be increased too much. The very same thing is proven by the fact that the legal obligation to support sometimes extends to deciding the amount that would be required from the indi- vidual-moral standpoint. The high court has decided against an old man in needy circumstances, ruling that he had to provide his only property, a few hundred marks, for the support of an unemployable son, even though he explained credibly that he would soon himself be unemployable and that the money was his only reserve. It is extremely doubtful whether one can still speak in this case of a moral right of the son; but the general society does not question this either but only about whether under general current norms it can be held harmless for its duty toward the poor person. Moreover, this inner meaning of the obligation to provide sustenance is rightly symbolized by the practical course: at first the poor person is supported adequately upon making a plea and then only is inquiry made into a son or father who eventu- ally, according to his financial status, will be sentenced to reimburse not the whole cost of the care, but perhaps a half or a third. The exclusively social meaning of the regulation is also discernible in that, according to the code of civil law, the obligation to support only has to enter in when it would not 'endanger' the 'living standard' of the person obligated. Whether support short of such endangerment would even be morally required in certain cases is at least doubtful. But the public cannot do without it in every instance since the descent of an individual in social standing does harm to the stability of society as a whole, which still seems to outweigh in social importance the material advantage to the individual gained by the extortion. Thus the duty to support does not contain a right of the poor to make a claim on their prosperous relatives; it is nothing other than the support duty obliging the state, which it passed on to the relatives and which required no corresponding claim at all on the part of the poor.
Now the above mentioned metaphor of the flowing stream was inex- act to the extent that the poor individual is not only a poor person but also a citizen. To the extent that the poor, admittedly, have their share in the entitlement that the law accords all citizens as a correlate of the duty of the state to support the poor, to maintain the parallel with the brook and the adjacent lands, they are both the brook and lands adjacent to it in the sense in which the richest citizen is too. Even though the state
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? services, formally standing at the same admittedly ideal distance over all citizens, gain a much different substantive importance for individual situations themselves, and if the poor person is therefore not involved in the welfare system as a goal-setting subject but only as a member of the encompassing teleological state organization, still the poor person's role, so to speak, in this state function is a different one from that of the prosperous person. Hence we have the sociological insight that the entire materially caused uniqueness in the situation of the supported poor that on the one hand makes an individual's well-being the end goal of assistance, and on the other places one in opposition to the general intention of the state as an object without rights and a material to be molded--that this does not quite prevent someone's belonging as a member of the body politic. Despite those two definitions by which welfare seems to place one outside the body politic, or more correctly, makes someone organically a part of the whole, the poor person belongs to the historical reality of the society that lives in him and above him, ever as much a form-sociological member as the official, the taxpayer, the teacher, or the mediator of some transaction. The poor person, who admittedly stands materially, so to speak, outside the group in which he or she dwells, behaves somewhat as a stranger to the group; but a whole structure simply exists that encompasses both the stranger and the indigenous parts of the group whose particular interactions with the stranger create a group in a wider sense and characterize the actual historically existing circle. Thus the poor person is admittedly put in a sense outside the group, but this being outside is only a particular kind of interaction with it that weaves one into a union with the whole in this widest sense.
The sociological antinomy of the poor, in which the social-ethical difficulties of caring for the poor are mirrored, is resolved by this conceptualization. The solipsistic tendency of the medieval type of alms, which I mentioned, went past the poor internally, so to speak, for whom the action pertains externally; it was the complete neglect of the principle: never treat the other person as a mere means but always as an end at the same time. If in principle now the recipient is also a donor, a causal ray returns from him the donor, and this just turns the gift into a reciprocal action, into a social occurrence. But as in any case, if the recipients are completely excluded from the intended process of giving, and they play no other role than that of a box into which a donation for a mass for the dead is placed, so is the interaction cut off, and the action of giving is not a social event but a purely individual
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? one. Now, however, it seems the modern handling of welfare does not treat the poor person as an end; but it still remains to be said that the poor person, standing in this teleological line that reaches beyond, still belongs organically to the whole and on that given basis is an element woven into its purposive process. Admittedly, a person's response to the donation that was given concerns each individual here as little as in the medieval form; but it thereby makes someone's economic activity possible again; it preserves someone's physical strength from decay, and someone's impulses are diverted from violent enrichment; the totality of their social circle on its part actually experiences a reaction to what it had done about the poor person. A purely individual relationship will only have ethical sufficiency and sociological perfection if every person is really the reciprocal goal of every other person--of course not only a goal; however, this does not apply to the actions of a supra-personal collective entity. Such an action with its teleology may quietly reach way over the individual and without being, so to speak, stopped by the individual, come back on itself: while every individual belongs to this totality, each thereby also, from the outset, stands at the endpoint of action; one is not, as in the other case, left outside, but in the same immediate denial of one's nature as being one's own end, one has, as a member of the whole, a part in its quality of being an intrinsic end.
Long before the clarification of this centralist viewpoint about the nature of welfare, its organic role in community life was indicated by substantial symbols. In earliest England the care for the poor began with the monasteries and church societies, and in fact, as will be explicitly emphasized, this came about because only property under mortmain possessed the reliable duration which is necessary for the care for the poor. The many secular donations from booty and penances did not serve the purpose since they did not yet find any foothold in the state administrative apparatus and were consumed without any continuing effect. The care for the poor was thus linked tightly to the only really substantially fixed point in the social warp and woof, and this linkage is shown in a negative way in the indignation about the clergy sent to England by Rome: because they would neglect the care for the poor. The foreign cleric simply did not feel internally linked to the com- munity life, and his not providing for the poor appears as the surest sign of this lack of solidarity. The exact same linkage of the care for the poor with the most fixed substrate of social existence will become clear in the later link of the English poor taxes with land ownership: this was both the cause and the effect of the poor being considered
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? one organic component belonging to the land as such. The very same is asserted legally in 1861 as a part of the responsibility for the poor was transferred from the parish to the society for the poor. The costs of the care would no longer be borne by the parish alone but by a fund to which the parishes made contributions proportionate to the value of their lands. The proposal that the distribution would still take into account the population size was rejected expressly and often. With that the individualistic factor was rejected completely; the sum of persons no longer appears as the bearer of the care for the poor but rather the supra-personal entity that finds its substrate in the objectivity of earth and land. And the care of the poor stands so much in the center of the social group that in local administration to this focal point was gradually appended first the school and highway administration, health and registration services. Also besides, the welfare agency immediately turned into a vehicle--since it worked well--of governmental unity. The North German Federation decided that no one in need of help in the whole federal territory should remain without help and that no North German poor in one part of the federal territory should receive differ- ent treatment than in another part. If external technical reasons led to the linkage of the care of the poor to land ownership in England, this does not therefore alter its deeper sociological meaning when, on the other hand, the joining of the other administrative branches to it, as was mentioned, points directly to great technical disadvantages arising from the crossing of counties by the welfare organizations. The contrast of their technical implications allows the unity of their sociological implications for this matter to become really evident.
It is therefore a completely one-sided view when the care of the poor was described as "an organization of the propertied classes for the satisfaction of the feelings of moral obligation associated with owner- ship. " Rather it is a part of the organization of the whole to which both the poor and the propertied classes belong. Just as the technical and material conditions of the social position of the poor make them out to be a mere object or transition point of a collective life looming over them, this is ultimately the role of every individual, concrete member of society. From the standpoint assumed for the moment, according to which what Spinoza said of God and the individual entity holds here: we can, of course, love God, but it would be contradictory for him, the unity including us, to love us back. Rather, what we devote to him would be a part of the unending love with which God loves himself. The particular exclusion that the poor experience on the part of the
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? community supporting them is the indicator for the role that they play within society, especially as a member; while one is technically a mere object of society, one is in a further sociological sense a subject who on the one hand forms, like all others, its reality, and on the other hand, as all others, stands beyond its supra-personal abstract unity.
Thus the general structure of the group also determines the answer to the question: Where does the poor person belong? If still engaging in any economic activity, a person belongs in as much a piece of the general economy that one deals with directly; in as much as someone is a member of a church, one belongs in it with no limitation differ- ing from that of the coinciding district; in as much as one is a family member, one belongs in the personally and spatially established group of relatives; but where does someone belong insofar as one is poor? A society that is held together or organized by ethnic consciousness assigns the poor to their ethnic group; in a different one whose ethical responsibilities are essentially arranged through the church, the church or pious associations are the places of the social response to the real- ity of the poor. The 'whereas' clauses in the 1871 German law on place of residence for support answer this question in this way: the poor would belong to that community--i. e. the community would be responsible for their support--which would have benefited from their economic power before their impoverishment. Within the latter prin- ciple lies a trace of the social structure in which, before the complete breakthrough of modern public policy theory, every local community was the place that enjoyed the economic accomplishments of those who are at present impoverished. Modern flexibility, the inter-regional exchange of all efforts, has lifted this restriction, so that only the entire body politic is considered the terminus a quo and ad quem of all activity. If state law now allows everyone to take up residence in any community whatever, the latter no longer has the correlate of its growing together with its inhabitants--namely the right to ward off the settlement of unsuitable persons; so the solidary bond with the individual can no more be expected from it in taking and giving. Only for practical reasons and only as organs of the state--as the cited 'whereas' clauses in the law emphasize--did the communities undertake the burden of the poor. This is thus the ultimate stage that the formal position of the poor achieved, revealing its dependence on the general stage of social development: it pertains to the largest practically possible social circle, not a part of the whole to the extent that it forms a unity at all, but the whole is the place or the power where the poor person, insofar as
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? being poor, belongs. Finally, for this circle, because it is the largest and it does not have anywhere where it could shift the responsibility outside of itself, the difficulty that the welfare workers in the small communities emphasize does not exist: the small communities thus frequently espe- cially struggled with supporting the poor since they feared they would be saddled with them forever if they once dealt with them at all. Here, however, a most effective feature of human interaction appears, which one can call moral induction: where a good deed of any kind, even the most spontaneous, most singular, in no way an obligatory duty, is performed, an obligation to continue with the good deed comes about that really lives on not only as a claim of the receiver but also in a feeling on the part of the giver. It is a quite ordinary experience that beggars, to whom one regularly gave, right away consider it their rightful claim and the donor's duty, the breaking off of which they reprimand as the misappropriation of an obligatory contribution owed them, so that they consequently feel more bitter about it than toward hardly anyone who would have completely and always denied them the donation. More- over, whoever maintained a needy person in higher circumstances for a long time after fixing precisely the period of support ahead of time, will nevertheless at the expiration of the period break off his offering with a painful feeling as if he were thereby encountering the violation of some obligation. With full consciousness a Talmudic law from the Jore Dea? h ritual code proclaims: Whoever has supported a poor person three times with equal amounts tacitly takes on a duty toward that person, even if one did not have the intent of continuing: it assumes the character of a vow that can be annulled only on special grounds (e. g. , one's own impoverishment). This case is much more complicated than that of a related one that forms the equivalent to odisse quem laeseris:1 one loves the person to whom one has done good. Then it is understandable that one projects the satisfaction about a good deed onto the person who provided the opportunity for it; in the love for the one whom one brought an offering, one in essence is loving oneself, just as in hatred for someone whom one has treated unjustly one hates oneself. With so simple a psychology the feeling of obligation that the good deed leaves to the doer is not to be interpreted as the only form of noblesse oblige. I believe that here, however, an a priori assumption is at work: that any activity of this kind--despite its apparently absolute
1 Latin: hating the person you have injured--ed.
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? voluntariness, its apparent character as an opus supererogationis2--would derive from an obligation, that under any such deed a deeply situated obligation becomes subconscious, which to a certain extent becomes apparent and tangible through the deed. It runs analogous to a theoreti- cal induction that nevertheless assumes the equivalence of a past and a future course not simply because the former was conditioned so and so but because a law was derived from this that determines it just like it must determine each future one. A moral instinct for that must lie under that one, so that the first good deed already also corresponded to a duty from which the second now is demanded no less than the first. This obviously touches upon the motives that this chapter raised. If, generally, all devotion, all doing good and selflessness is even in the most extreme case no more than simple duty and obligation, this principle in the form of a particular case may be so represented that every act of charity in its deepest sense--if one will, in its metaphysi- cal sense of morality--is the fulfillment of a duty manifested therein, which now of course is not completed by the isolated act. Rather it extends as far as the cause of the action still continues to exist. Any support shown to anyone would be the ratio cognoscendi3 whereby one of the ideal lines of obligation from one person to another runs here that shows its timelessness in the continued effect of the bond that was once realized.
Besides the two forms of the right-duty relationship--the poor person has a right to support and there exists a duty to support, which is not arranged as an entitlement of the poor person directed at the society, the self-preservation of which requires from everyone of its organs and from certain circles--besides these there exists a third that typically rules the moral consciousness; a duty to support the poor exists on the part of the public and on the part of the prosperous, which finds an adequate purpose for it in the improved circumstance of the poor person; to this corresponds the claim of the latter as the other side of the purely moral relationship between the needy and the well-placed. If I am not mistaken, the emphasis within this relationship was some- thing displaced since the eighteenth century. Most clearly in England the ideal of humanity and human rights have thrust aside the centralist point of view of the poor laws of Elizabeth--work had to be created
2 Latin: a work performed in addition to what one is obligated to do--ed.
3 Latin: basis for recognizing--ed.
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? for the poor person in the interest of the whole. Every poor person is to be entitled to a minimum existence just as much whether able and willing to work or not. In contrast, modern charity allows the correlation between moral duty (of the donor) and moral right (of the recipient) to be realized more by the former. Obviously this form is essentially realized by private charity, in contrast to public, and its sociological meaning is now the question for us.
First of all, to state the already mentioned tendency: treating the care of the poor more as a concern of the widest governmental circles after it was originally based everywhere on the community of the locality. At first the care for the poor person was the result of the communal bond that enveloped the community; before the supra-individual structure that the individuals saw around and above them was transformed from a community into the state, and before the freedom of movement com- pleted this process, factually and psychologically, it was natural for the local community to support the needy. This is of the utmost importance for the whole sociology of the poor person: of all the non-individualistic social claims based on a purely general quality, those of the poor are materially the most impressive. Disregarding such acute excitations as those from misfortune or sexual provocation, there are none that would be so completely impersonal, so indifferent toward the other qualities of their object and at the same time making claims so effectively and immediately as those from need and misery. This has always lent a spe- cifically local character to the duty toward the poor person, instead of centralizing it in so great a circle, instead of functioning through imme- diate perception only through the general concept of poverty--which is one of the longest roads sociological forms have had to cover between perception and abstraction. Since this change in the care for the poor person into an abstract state responsibility occurred--in England from 1834, in Germany somewhat after the middle of the century--its nature was modified in tandem with this centralizing form. Above all, the state admittedly kept the community obligated for the substantial part of the care, but now the community is only its agent. The local organiz- ing is turned into a mere technique by which the objectively greatest capacity for action could be achieved. The community is no longer the starting point but the passageway for welfare. Thus poor associations are constituted everywhere according to the consideration of their suit- ability, e. g. in England so that they can maintain one workhouse each and--which is a conscious tendency--remain free of the bias of local influences. The increasing use of salaried welfare officials has the same
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? intent. Such an official stands in relation to the poor person much more as a representative of the collectivity on which the official depends for a salary than does the unpaid one, who functions so to speak more as a person and will be allowed to hold sooner the human, person-to- person point of view rather than the purely objective one. Finally a most highly sociologically indicative division of tasks appears. The fact that furthermore welfare is also delegated essentially to the community is thus very useful since every case must be dealt with individually, and this is possible only from nearby, and with accurate knowledge of, the milieu; but if the community has to approve the assistance, it must also raise the means since it would readily manage the public funds all too generously. On the other hand there are cases of need for which the danger of pre-schematizing that is avoided in this way does not exist since this and the needed acts of care are established according to wholly objective criteria: illness, blindness, deaf-muteness, insanity, chronic illness. Here welfare is a more technical matter and thus the state or the large unit is more efficient; its greater means and central- ized administration, where personal matters and local circumstances are less decisive, point to its overwhelming advantages. And in addition to this qualitative determination of direct public activity, the quantita- tive appears, which especially distinguishes it from private charity; the state or the public in general only provides for the most urgent and immediate need. Everywhere, and most clearly in England, the care for the poor has the completely fixed principle that one could give to the poor person from the taxpayers' pockets only the absolutely necessary minimum of the cost of maintaining life.
Fundamentally this is related to the spiritual character of community action in general. The community, which encompasses the energies or interests of many individuals, can make room for their particularity only when it is a question of the whole structure of the division of labor whose members perform different functions. If, however, instead of this a uniform procedure is needed, whether directly or through a representative organ, its content can simply contain only the rela- tive minimum of the personality sphere on a par with that of every other. At first this results in no larger expenditure being allowed in the name of a community than what is expected also of its stingiest member. A collectivity that is currently found together may come to an agreement on an upsurge of extravagant generosity; but where the will of every individual is not proven so directly but must be presup-
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? posed on the part of representatives, the assumption can only be that each person wants to spend as little as possible. Admittedly this is not a logically unavoidable necessity--for which the opposite would not also be a logical contradiction--but it corresponds to a psychological dogma that has acquired the practical value of logical proof through the overwhelming magnitude of its empirical confirmation. Out of its necessity the quantification has to embrace in effect the lowest level of the intellectual, economic, cultural, aesthetic, etc. scale: the character of a minimum: the right valid for all is described as the ethical minimum; the logic valid for all is the intellectual minimum; the 'right to work' claimed for all can only be extended to the person who represents a minimum for its value character; membership in a party requires in principle only that one acknowledge the minimum of the party's prin- ciples without which it could not exist. This type of social minimum is expressed most completely even in the directly negative character of quantification and level of interest.
Excursus on the Negativity of Collective Behavior
The unity of the just mentioned phenomena comes about in many aspects only through negation, and in fact such phenomena often develop the char- acteristic of negativity in the degree of its numerical scope. In mass actions the motives of the individuals are often so divergent that their union is all the more possible the more their content is purely negative, indeed destructive. The dissatisfaction that leads to large-scale revolutions always feeds off so many and often so directly opposed sources that their unification around a positive goal would hardly be carried out. The formation of unity, then, tends to be the responsibility of smaller circles, and the dispersed energies of individuals have worked to put in order as well as to destroy the countless private undertakings intended to unify the masses. In view of this, one of the most knowledgeable historians asserted that the crowd would always be ungrateful since, although the whole would be brought to a flourishing condition, individuals would above all feel what they lack personally. The divergence of individual deci- sions that leaves to the collectivity only negation (which obviously is regarded only cum grano salis4 and beyond everything by which society overcomes this fate of its forces) is very evident, for example, in the late Russian revolution. 5 The unsafe spatial expansion, the personal differences in formation, the
4 Latin: with a grain of salt--ed.
5 Simmel appears to be referring to the 1905 failed revolution in Russia--ed.
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? variety of objectives that prevail in this movement actually made the idea of nihilism, the complete denial of what exists, into the applicable expression of the community for all its members.
The same trait appears in the outcome of large popular referenda, which is so often and almost incomprehensibly purely negative. Thus in Switzerland in 1900, for example, a law about confederate health and accident insurance would be flatly rejected by a referendum after it was accepted unanimously by both representatives of the people--the Nationalrat and the Sta? nderat; and this was just generally the fate of most statutory proposals that were subjected to referendum. Negation is just the simplest act, and thus large masses, whose members cannot agree upon a positive goal, just find themselves united in that. The standpoints of particular groups, by whom every law was rejected, were extremely different: particularistic and ultramontane, agrarian and capi- talist, technical and partisan--and thus could have nothing but negation in common. Of course, conversely also, therefore, where they agree at least in negative stands, negation can suggest or prepare for the unity of many small groups. Thus it is striking that admittedly the Greeks would have shown great cultural differences among one another, but if one even compared the Arca- dians and the Athenians with the contemporary Carthaginians or Egyptians, Persians, or Thracians, various negative characteristics would still have been held in common. Nowhere in historical Greece were there human sacrifices or deliberate mutilation; nowhere polygamy or the sale of children into slavery; nowhere the wholly unlimited obedience to an individual person. Amidst all the positive differences, the commonality of the purely negative still had to bring the solidarity to the consciousness of a cultural circle transcending the individual state.
The negative character of the bond that brings the large circle together into a unity appears above all in its norms. This is prepared by the phenom- enon of binding arrangements of any kind having to be all the simpler and fewer the larger the compass of their applicability would be, all things being equal--beginning approximately with the rules of international etiquette that are very much fewer than would be observed in every smaller group, up to the fact that the individual states of the German Reich tend to have all the less encompassing constitutions the larger they are. Expressed in principle: with a widening scope of the circle, the commonalities that bind every one in the social unity to every one else always become less extensive. Therefore what at first could appear paradoxical: generally, it is possible to hold a large circle together with a small minimal number of norms than a small one. Now, in a qualitative sense, the patterns of behavior that a group must demand of its members in order to be able to exist as a group tend to be all the more purely prohibitive and restrictive in nature, the more extensive it is: the posi- tive associations that give group life its unique substance member by member, must ultimately be left to the individual;6 the variety of persons, interests, and
6 Thus an English adage says: "The business of everybody is the business of nobody. " This unique becoming-negative on the part of an action also appears as soon as it
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? processes becomes too great for it to be regulated from a center. The prohib- iting function nevertheless remains only for the establishment of what must not be done under any circumstances, the limitation of freedom instead of steering it--by which is meant, of course, only the steering of a development continually thwarted and deflected by other tendencies. Thus it is so where a greater number of diverging circles of religious feeling or interest would be united into a unity. Allah emerged from the decline of Arab polytheism as the general conceptualization, so to speak, of God. Polytheism necessarily generates a religious splintering of faith circles since its components will turn to the different deities in unequal ways according to the difference in their inner and practical tendencies. Allah's abstract and unifying character is thus a negative one at first; it is his original nature "to keep off evil," but not to urge the doing of good; he is only the "one who restrains. " The Hebrew God, who brought about or expressed a union of socio-religious combination unheard in antiquity--compared to every diverging polytheism and every unsocial monism, as in India--gives its most strongly emphasized norms of conduct in the form: Thou shalt not. In the German Empire, positive relationships in life, which are subject to civil law, first found their standard form in the civil code about thirty years after the founding of the Empire; in contrast, the criminal code with its prohibitive stipulations was already uniformly codified in the Empire from 1872. Exactly what makes prohibition especially suitable for generalizing smaller circles into a larger one is the circumstance that the counterpart of forbidden things is in no way always what is commanded but often is only what is permitted. Thus if no ? could occur in the circle of A but probably ? and ? , no ? in the circle of B but probably ? and ? , no ? in C but ? and ? etc. --in this way the unified structure can be established in A, B, and C on the prohibition of ? , ? , and ? . Unity is only possible if ? and ? were not commanded in A but only permitted so that it can also be omitted. If instead ? and ? would be just as positively commanded, as ? is forbidden--and cor- respondingly in B and C--a unity would hardly appear because then what is directly proscribed on the one hand would then always be directly commanded on the other.
19 'Woman' here translates Frau which in German, of course, is 'wife' and 'woman'--ed.
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? all the women divided, and they do not melt down into as specialized an obligatory sphere as the more cultivated household represents it.
In that now in the present the latter has been relaxed enough around the 'woman question' to allow a general issue of women as a total- ity to arise and to lead to all sorts of actions, changed circumstances, formations of community--this manifests a very characteristically sociological phenomenon. The isolation of women from one another by enclosing each one of them in an entirely individualized circle of interests rests on fully differentiating women from men. With the training of the mind and activity, with the claim of personality and relationship to the surrounding world, the man appears as a whole in the ongoing processes of our culture as the higher being, and beyond the question of status both genders appear so essentially different that they are destined to be only opposing complements; the feminine existence has its meaning exclusively in that which the man cannot be or desire to do; life's meaning for them hinges thus not on relationship to the same but to the different, and they are all but completely taken up with this. However, most recently now women have fixed their eyes on an equality in all respects and have come to some opportune beginnings: in personal position and economic independence, in mental forma- tion and consciousness of personality, in social freedom and the roles in public life--they place themselves now in direct comparison to men; a party-like difference towards men that emphasizes the solidarity of women's interests with one another is announced in the moment in which the diminishment--as a cause or as an effect of it--of that prin- ciple of being and acting differently, right and interest different from men; in caricatures of the movement--women striving in their whole essence and appearance for complete masculinity--there occurs quite often the most passionate antagonism towards men. This constellation is readily understandable. In the measure of equality of position, of value, of qualities, independence must be developed over against him with whom one until now stood in a relationship of the lower or at best the merely other and therefore relied on for one's being. This one- dimensional freedom, however, obviously allows what that being has in common with others to become more strongly visible and effective, and until now that did not occur on account of the subordinate and complementary relationship. So there exists here an extraordinarily pure case of the formation of a higher, conceptually universal circle, differentiated from the narrower circles that until now relegated every element to a singular relation. One should not get the idea that the
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? proletarian and the bourgeois women's movements are moving in dia- metrically opposed practical directions. The proletarian woman was given socio-economic freedom by industrial development--however miserable it may be for its individual women. The girl goes into the factory at an age that certainly would still require the more intimate atmosphere of the parental home; the married woman is removed by work outside the house from household duties towards husband and children. Here then the woman is actually freed from the singular bond in which she was entirely determined by the subordination under the man or by activity completely different from him. This social reality remains entirely untouched by the fact that it is undesired and injuri- ous, and that the desire of the proletarian woman is for a limitation of that 'freedom,' for the possibility of being again to a greater degree a familial being, wife and mother. Within the bourgeois stratum the same economic development removed countless housekeeping activities from the home, both mere functions and productive creations, and thereby deprived an enormous number of women the sufficient testing of their powers--while they nevertheless, certainly for the most part, remained harnessed within the boundaries of the home. Their longing, then, is for the freedom of economic or other activity; they feel themselves subjectively detached from the particular sphere of the household, just as the proletarian woman feels that way from the outside. From this difference of strata in which the detachment is complete, there follows the difference of practical desire: the one class of women wants back in the house, the other wants out of the house. However, apart from this, this difference still gives way to equivalences: the woman question with regard marriage law, property law, authority over children, etc. affects both classes equally--so the essentials remain in force that in the one as in the other form the sociological isolation of the woman, the result of her integration into the home, is pressured by modern industrialization toward dissolution. Whether this occurs in the form of too much or in that of too little, in both cases the independence won as well as that striven for shifts the accent to the fact that the woman is simply a woman who shares practical situations and needs with other women. With the dissolution of complete, particular occupation by the household, the universal concept of woman loses its purely abstract character and becomes the leading idea of a membership group that is now already revealed in embryo by purely female support associations, associations for attaining rights for women, female student unions, women's congresses, agitation by women for political and social inter-
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? ests. Corresponding to the extraordinary closeness of the historically existing ties of the concept, woman, to the specific life contents of the individuals--which is much greater than correspondingly in the case of the worker and the business person--indeed no one today can say what the actual direction and limit of the movement is; but what has been achieved is that very many individual women experience themselves as standing at the intersection of groupings that tie them on the one hand to the persons and contents of their personal lives, on the other to women in general.
Should the differentiation here bring about the construction of the superordinate sphere from that of the more individual, in which it for- merly lay only latent, then it now has, secondly, even more coordinated circles to free from one another. The guild, e. g. , exercised oversight over the whole personality in the sense that the interest of the craft had to regulate the entirety of one's activity. One who became an apprentice under a master became at the same time a member of the master's family etc. ; in brief, the specialized occupation became most firmly the center of all of life, often including the political and affec- tive life. Of the forces that led to the dissolution of these amalgama- tions, that lying in the division of labor is here under consideration. In every human being whose various life contents are guided by a circle of interest, the power of this latter will ceteris paribus be reduced to the same degree as it is reduced in itself in scope. Narrowness of consciousness causes a complex occupation, a multiplicity of concepts accompanying it, even the other unrelated ideas about the world, to be drawn into its insular spell. 20 Substantive relationships between the narrowness of consciousness and these elements need not exist at all; through the necessity, in an occupation not narrowed by the division of labor, to exchange ideas relatively quickly--with the symbolic man- ner of speaking to which one is bound in more complicated problems in thinking--such a measure of psychic energy is consumed that the cultivation of other interests suffers from it, and now those thus weak- ened come all the more likely into associative or other dependence on that central cognitive circle. Just as a person filled with a great passion places even the most remote content, every encounter with superfluous material that runs through one's consciousness, into some kind of
20 'Insular spell': Simmel uses the term Bann, which means both 'excommunication' and 'spell'--ed.
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? connection to that passion, just as one's whole mental life receives its light and its shadows from it--so a corresponding mental centraliza- tion is effected by every vocation that leaves only a relatively small amount of consciousness for life's other relationships. Herein lies one of the most important internal consequences of the division of labor; it is grounded in the psychological fact, already mentioned, that in a given time, all other things being equal, the more conceptual power is employed, the more frequently the consciousness of one concept must be exchanged for another. This exchange of ideas has the same result as the intensity of a passion does in its case. Therefore, an activity not subject to the division of labor, again all things being equal, becomes a central one sooner than does a specialized one; everything else is drawn into an absorbing place in the course of a person's life, and certainly especially in periods during which the rest of life's relation- ships still lack the variety and change-filled stimulations of the modern era. Furthermore, one-dimensional occupations tend to be of a more mechanical nature and therefore--wherever they by chance do not render mental energy entirely atrophied by the complete absorption of strength and time--allow more space in consciousness for other con- nections, with their value and their independence. This coordinating segregation of interests that were formerly merged into a central one is promoted also by yet another consequence of the division of labor that coheres with the above discussed detachment of the higher social concept from the more particularly determined circles. Associations between central and peripheral concepts and circles of interest, which were constructed merely from psychological and historical causes, are for the most part held substantively necessary for as long a time until experience shows us personalities that exhibit the very same center along with a different periphery or an equivalent periphery along with a different center. If then membership in a vocation would render the rest of life's interests dependent on it, this dependence would have to loosen with the increase of occupational branches because, in spite of their differentiation, many kinds of similarities come to light in all the rest of the interests.
This form of development becomes most important for the inner and outer circumstances of people. A certain element in us is bound to another one that represents a universal character in a particular pattern shared with many others; and the bond takes up this second one originally in the unbroken coherence of its universality as well as its particular type. Now a process of dissolution occurs in this way:
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? the first element binds somewhere with a third that offers for sure the universal of the second but in an entirely other particularity. This experience can have two rather opposed consequences, depending on how both parts of the second element are blended. Should this be the case in a very close type, the bond of the elements from which we began is altogether severed. This will frequently occur, e. g. , with the connection of the moral life to the religious. For the individual person, one's religion as a rule is the religion; any other is not at all consid- ered. If that person has grounded morality on the particular concepts of this religion and then has the convincing experience that another morality, just as good, just as correct and valuable, is derived for other individuals fully from other religious ideas, then probably only in very rare instances will one conclude: morality is then in general linked to the religious sentiment only by that which is common to all religions. Rather one is more likely to draw the sweeping conclusion: morality actually has nothing to do with religion; one will then acquire from that the autonomy of morality, and not the likewise at least logically justi- fied idea of connecting it to the sustaining universality of religion. It is different, e. g. , where people acquire the feeling of having fulfilled one's duty only from an altruism that is ongoingly bound up for them with a painful conquest of the 'I,' with an ascetic self-mortification. Should one then notice in other people that the same calm and satisfaction of conscience has its source in an easily and freely exercised altruism, in a life obviously serene for others, it is then not so easily concluded that the sought-for inner peace and the feeling, to be something valu- able, would have had nothing at all to do with the dedication to the non-ego, but only that the particularly ascetic development of altruism is not required for it, that this, even in an entirely different form and color, has the same result, even though its universality is still preserved. The aforementioned issue of the detachment of occupational interest from the rest of life's interests by means of the multiplicity of occupa- tions, though only an inclination in the earlier phenomenon, becomes a certain intermediate phenomenon as a primary consequence. That a person has an occupation at all will always be connected to the total- ity of one's life; this entirely formal universal will always function as a center toward which many other points of life's periphery are oriented. However, this remains itself a formal, functional accomplishment of the occupation and is compatible with the increasing loosening of all occupational contents from the truly personal in life.
The growing differentiation of occupations had to show the individual
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? how the very same orientation of different life contents can be linked with different occupations and thus must be independent from one's occupation to an increasingly greater extent. And the differentiation of those other life contents similarly advancing with the cultural move- ment lead to the same result. The diversity of occupation along with a homogeneity of the rest of the interests and the diversity of these along with a homogeneity of occupation had to lead, in the same way, to their psychological and actual detachment from one another. Should we look at the progress of the differentiation and concentration, from schematic points of view external to those of greater intimacy, there is manifest then a definite analogy in the theoretical realm: it was earlier believed that one could, by the collection of larger groups of life forms according to the characteristics of an external affinity, resolve the most important tasks of understanding them; but one obtained a yet deeper and more correct insight only by discovering morphological and physiological similarities in apparently very different things that one had brought under correspondingly different conceptual types, and thus one came to laws of organic life that were realized at widely separated points in the array of organic beings, and the knowledge of them brought about unification of what one earlier had distributed according to external criteria in conceptual types of completely independent origin. Here the collecting of materially homogeneous from heterogeneous circles marks the higher level of development.
A circle expanding around a new rational center in place of a more mechanical-superficial one does not always need to assemble its material from various constructs; i. e. , it need not always mean the creation of new groups. Rather, it happens that the exact same circle is transformed from one to another form, that by way of the already existing synthesis a higher, more organic concept displaces the cruder and more random from its root-like, collating function. To an extent the twelfth century development followed in Rouen and other northern French cities in the so-called iurati communiae follows this schema. 21 These formed a com- munity obligated by a mutual oath that generally coincided with the citizenry probably in essence but not completely and not in principle. Then we hear in the constitutions of the community about inhabitants who violate the iurati, as well as those who pretend falsely to belong to them. Now, however, even further: whoever lived a year and a day in the
21 Iurati communiae--Latin, 'oaths of community'--ed.
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? city, as the law specified, is supposed to swear allegiance to a communia, and whoever wants to get out of it is supposed to leave the area of the city. This commune grew in strength everywhere to such an extent that in the end it drew into itself the entire population, not always entirely voluntarily. Here then was at first a purely local relatively accidental association of city dwellers as such. This will, however, gradually grow from an intentional, founded-on-principle, purpose-driven association until the entire complex, without being essentially modified in its mate- rial and in the fact of its solidarity, is the bearer of this new higher type of union. The rational form, intersected by an integrating idea from an organized circle, is not the more primitive, if you will, more natural, but only the, so to speak, more solemn, more spiritual form, in which the latter comes together as though it were new. In matters of the broadest scope, this evolution in form is repeated in the relational bond between colonies and their mother country. European coloniza- tion, since Columbus and Vasco de Gama, allowed areas that lay quite far from the mother country and drew as good as no advantage from belonging to it still to be obliged on that basis to pay tribute and be considered a mere property. This objectively unjustified mode of linkage led to the secession of most colonies. At first when the thought arose, which Greater Britain represented, that the colony is simply a province of the mother country having equal rights with every province within the same realm, the basis for secession was absent. Since the manner of linkage has now been changed from a crudely external welding to one conforming to a higher sense of belonging, whose unity is no longer a rigid one but rather elastic, self-administration of the colony is rela- tive independence of the member of an organic body. Instead of the simultaneity of the schematic and the rational synthesis, to which in the earlier examples the style of the new was driven by the old, here the same differentiation in form exists in a sequence.
If the triumph of the rationally objective principle over the superfi- cially schematic thus goes hand in hand with universal cultural progress, this connection nevertheless, because it is not an a priori, can be broken under certain circumstances. The solidarity of the family appears, certainly in contrast to the bond according to objective viewpoints, as a mechanically external principle, yet on the other hand as one objec- tively grounded, if one views it in contrast to one of a purely numeri- cal arrangement, as is seen in the grouping in tens and hundreds in ancient Peru, in China, and in a large part of ancient Europe. While the socio-political homogeneity of the family and its responsibility as
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? a whole for each member makes good sense and appears all the more rational the more one learns how the operation of heredity operates, the forging together of a continuously standardized number of persons to a group treated as a unity--with regard to structure, military duty, taxation, criminal responsibility, etc. --wholly lacks a rational root, and yet it acts, where we can follow it, as an ersatz of the kin principle and is of use to a higher stage of culture. The justification for it also lies not in the terminus a quo--with regard to this the family principle as a ground for differentiation and integration surpasses all others--but in the terminus ad quem; for the higher purpose of the state this is, precisely on account of its schematic character, an easily understood and easily organized division obviously more suitable than the older one. The military orders of ancient times were for the most part built on the principle of the clan- or family-like division. The Greeks of the heroic period fought according to phylae and phratries, the Germans accord- ing to tribes and lineages, the ancient Scots according to clans, each of which was recognizable in larger common undertakings by special insignia. This organic structure certainly had considerable purposeful- ness: a large capacity for holding the individual section together, a spur to ambition, a certain relieving of the high command for the concern with individuals and for the constituting of each cadre. However, these advantages were paid for by the frequent flare up of old prejudices and conflicts of the clans against one another and the hindering of the unity of the entire movement, the individual sections lacking altogether the organic bond and solidarity among themselves to the same degree to which each possessed these characteristics in itself. The totality was then certainly formed inorganically from its elements in spite of or because these elements were whole in themselves. And the mechani- cal construction of later armies without any kind of concern for the inner relationship among the elements of the division, seen from the standpoint of the whole, is internally much more organic when one understands under this concept the purposeful integrating regulation of every tiny part by a unifying idea, the reciprocal determination between each element and every other. This new ordering grasps the individual directly, and in that its divisions and groupings cut across all the others ruthlessly, it destroys organic bonds in favor of a mechanism, promoting though in an incomparably higher way the purpose from which that form, originally more organic in meaning, draws its value. Here discourse is generally about the concept of technique, certainly essential for more advanced times. Over against the more directionless,
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? more instinctively integrating constitution of life of primitive epochs, latter times succeed at achieving more cultural objectives with more mechanical means. So in the principles of a parliamentary election, in the way the precincts established for it cut through the pre-existing groups, this development stands out. Representation by categories--as, e. g. , the Estates-General under Philip the Fair were representatives of clergy, nobility, and cities--appear at first as the natural and organic over against the purely external division of electoral bodies--as the Netherlands' Estates-General under Philipp II were local representa- tives of the individual provinces. The spatial enclosure includes such manifold often irreconcilable interests that a concerted expression of will by a single representative as well as that representative's vote is disqualified; the representation of interests, however, a principle more rational than that mechanical-external one, seems precisely to succeed at this. In reality the case is quite plain with regard to the army divi- sion. The individual groups--the complex of interests with its repre- sentatives--are in the final case more organically construed, but they stand more inorganically next to one another. The territorial mode of election is certainly more mechanical, but the exclusively territorial election does not also need to mean a representation of the exclusively territorial interest; rather it is precisely the technique for the organic composition of the whole, in that the single Member of Parliament in principle represents the whole country. The emerging partisan division according to political tendencies, following its concept, then pertains only to the variety of convictions with regard to the means which are solely important for achieving the well-being of the whole. The representa- tion then of estates or of interests, as the case may be, with the logical strength of a higher concept, cuts across the superficiality of regional boundaries and in the process by this partial rationalism cheats the local-mechanical division as the technique for the much higher organic synthesis of the whole.
This is a principal developmental, by all means also sociological, schema of the culture: that meaningful, deeply significant institutions and patterns of action are replaced by those that appear in and of themselves completely mechanical, external, soulless; only the higher purpose, lying beyond that earlier stage, gives its combined efforts or its subsequent result a cultural significance, which each individual ele- ment must itself do without; this character is carried by the modern soldier in contrast to the knight of the Middle Ages, machine work in contrast to handicrafts, the modern uniformity and leveling of so many
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? circumstances of life that were earlier left up to the free self-education of the individual; now the enterprise is on the one hand too large and too complex to express a, so to speak, complete concept in any one of its elements; each of these can instead have only a mechanical and, for its own part, meaningless character and contribute its part to the realization of a concept only as a member of a totality. On the other hand there is often operative a differentiation that releases the mental element of activity, so that the mechanical and the mental obtain a separate existence, as, e. g. , the worker at the embroidery machine exer- cises a much more mindless activity than the embroiderer has objecti- fied in it while the spirit of this activity, so to speak, was transferred to the machine. Thus social institutions, hierarchies, assemblages can become more mechanical and superficial and yet serve the advance of culture, the inner unity of a totality, when a higher social purpose arises, to which they have to subordinate themselves and which no longer allows them to preserve for themselves the spirit and meaning with which an earlier situation completed the teleological set; and thus that exchange of the tribal principle for the principle of social division by tens is explained, although this actually appears as an integration of the objectively heterogeneous in contrast to the natural homogeneity of the family.
CHAPTER SEVEN THE POOR PERSON
Insofar as the human individual is social in nature, to each person's duty there corresponds another's right. Perhaps even more profound is the view that there are only rights in the first instance, that every individual has claims--those of human beings in general and those arising from their special situations--which as such become duties for the other. But since everyone who is thus entitled is also somehow obli- gated, a network of rights and duties back and forth arises in which it is the right that is the primary, leading factor; duty is admittedly only its unavoidable correlate situated in the same activity. One can look at society in general as a reciprocity of moral, legal, and conventional relationships, and as a reality justified under many other categories; that this implies a duty for others is only, so to speak, a logical or technical consequence, and if the unthinkable were to happen, that satisfying every claim in a way other than in the form of fulfilling the obligation were to be sufficient, society would not require the category of duty. With a radicalism that admittedly does not correspond to psychological reality, in the sense that an ethical-ideal construction would be feasible, all of love and sympathy, magnanimity and religious impulse could be regarded as the rights of the one receiving them. Ethical rigorism has already made the assertion about those motivations, that at the most what a person could accomplish at all would be the fulfillment of a duty, and that this already demand of itself what appears from a lax or self-flattering attitude as meritorious beyond duty; and from here it is only a step behind every duty on the part of one who is obligated, to establish the right of the entitled person. Indeed, this actually appears as the ultimately attainable and rational basis upon which one's actions toward another are demanded.
Now here appears a basic contrast between the sociological and ethical categories. While all relational acts are derived from a right--in the broadest sense that includes legal right as a component--the rela- tionship of one person to another has penetrated the moral values of the individual completely and by itself determines their direction. But opposed to the unquestionable idealism of this standpoint stands the
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? no less profound refusal of any inter-individual origin of duty: our duties would be duties toward ourselves, and there would be no others at all. They may have action directed toward the other as content, but their form and motivation could not come to us as a duty from that, but would arise as pure autonomy from the 'I' and from its sheer inte- rior, completely independent of anything outside itself. Only for right would the other be the terminus a quo of the motivation in our ethical behavior; in contrast, for morality as such the other is unconditionally the terminus ad quem. Ultimately, we are responsible for the morality of our actions only to ourselves, to the better 'I' in us, to the respect we have for ourselves, or as one may put the enigmatic point, what the soul finds within itself as its ultimate authority and from which it freely decides in what way the rights of the other are duties for it.
This principal dualism in the basic feeling for the sense of moral action has an example or empirical symbol in the different conceptions about providing assistance to the poor. The duty to provide it can appear as a mere correlate of the claims of the poor person. Especially in countries where begging is a regular business, the beggar believes, more or less naively, in a right to the alms, the refusal of which the beggar reprimands as the evasion of an obligatory tribute. The basis for the claim for support from the membership group has a completely differ- ent character--within the same type. A social perspective, according to which the individual is but the product of the social milieu, accords the beggar the right to demand a compensation for every emergency and loss. But even where no such extreme absence of self-responsibility exists, one could place emphasis, from a social perspective, on the right of the needy as the basis of all poor relief. Only when one assumes such a right, at least as a socio-legal fiction, the conduct of poor relief appears to be removed from what is arbitrary, from the dependence on chance financial conditions and other insecurities; the reliability of a function is increased everywhere if right constructs its methodological starting point in the correlation-pair of right and duty underlying it: for a person is on average more quickly prepared to claim a right than to fulfill a duty. Add to that the humanitarian motive, which makes the application and acceptance of support inwardly easy for the poor, since they are simply realizing their proper right; the dejection, the shame, and the degradation from charity are neutralized for the recipient to the extent that it is not granted out of mercy, a sense of duty, or expediency, but to the extent that it can be demanded. Since this right obviously has limits that are to be separately determined in every individual instance,
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? the right to support will not change these motivations toward others in a substantially quantitative sense. Their inner meaning is only established by it and rises out of a principal opinion about the relationship of the individual to other individuals and to the whole. The right to support belongs in the same category as the right to work and the right to one's existence. The obscurity of the quantitative limit that is suitable for this and other 'human rights' admittedly reaches its maximum especially with those where the support is with money, whose purely quantitative and relative character makes the objective demarcation of the claims much more difficult than, perhaps, the support in kind--as soon as it does not concern very complicated or individualized cases in which the poor person will use monetary help for greater purpose and productiv- ity than one could achieve with support in kind with its providential character. Toward whom the right of the poor is in fact aimed is also in no way clear, and the decision about that marks deep sociological differences. The poor person, whose situation seems to be an injustice of the world order and who demands a remedy from, so to speak, the whole of existence, will easily make every individual who is found better situated by chance answerable to this demand out of solidarity. This creates a range: from criminal proletarians who see enemies in all well-dressed people, representatives of the class that 'disinherited' them, and who therefore rob them with a good conscience, to the humble beggars who implore for offerings "for the sake of God," i. e. as though each individual were obligated to fill the gaps in an order actually willed but not completely realized by God. Here the demand of the poor is aimed at the individual, but not at a particular one but only by virtue of the solidarity of humanity in general. Beyond this correlation, which allows precisely the whole of being, in view of the demand directed against it, to crystallize around any given individual as a representative, there are the richly shaded particular collectivi- ties to whom the demand of the poor person turns. State, municipal community, parish, professional organization, friendship circles, and families may have as wholes exceedingly different relationships with their membership; still each of these relationships seems to contain an element that is actualized as a right for support in case an individual becomes pauperized. This is also common among such sociological relationships where they are perhaps otherwise very heterogeneous in nature. The claims of the poor springing from such bonds combine in unique ways in primitive settings, in which tribal customs and religious duties dominate the individual as an undifferentiated unity. Among the
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? ancient Semites the claim of the poor for participation in meals did not have a correlate in personal generosity but in social membership and religious custom. Where care of the poor has a sufficient basis in an organic linkage among the members, the right of the poor gener- ally possesses a stronger emphasis--whether it derives religiously from metaphysical unity or from biologically based tribal or familial unity. We will see that where, on the contrary, the care for the poor depends teleologically on one reaching a goal through it instead of causally on an existing and real unity of the association of a group, the claim of the poor as a right is reduced to complete nothingness.
In fact while right and duty only appear in the cases referred to as two sides of an absolute relational unity, wholly new changes come about as soon as the duty of the giver, instead of the right of the recipient, forms the point of departure. In the extreme case, the poor person vanishes completely as a deserving subject and point of interest; the motive for giving lies exclusively in the importance of the giving for the giver. As Jesus said to the rich young man: give your possession to the poor--obviously his concern was not at all for the poor but rather for the soul of the young man, for whose salvation the renunciation was a mere means or symbol of salvation. The later Christian alms-giving is of the same nature: it is nothing but a form of asceticism or 'good work' that improves the otherworldly fate of the giver. The excesses of begging in the Middle Ages, the meaninglessness in the use of offer- ings, the demoralization of the proletariat by indiscriminate offerings, the contributions that worked against all cultural activity--this is the revenge, as it were, of almsgiving for a motive that is purely subjectivistic and one that takes into consideration only the giver of the offering, but not the recipient. From such a restriction on the person that gives, the motivation goes away--without being devoted to the recipient--as soon as the welfare of the social whole necessitates the care of the poor. That happens, willingly or required by law, in order to not allow the poor person to become an active, dangerous enemy of society, in order to make the diminished power of the poor person once again productive for it, and in order to prevent the degeneration of the poor person's descendents. Therefore the poor person as a person, the reflection of the situation of the poor in the person's feelings, is just as indifferent as it is for those who give alms for the sake of the salvation of their own soul; the subjective egoism of the latter is indeed overcome, but not for the sake of the poor but for that of society: the poor person receiving the offering is not the goal but a mere means, as in the former
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? case. The dominance of the social point of view of alms is proven by the fact that, from that perspective, it can just as well be refused--and indeed often personal pity or the unpleasant situation of saying "No" would directly move us to give.
Thus the care for the poor as a public arrangement now points to a very unique sociological constellation. It is thoroughly personal in content; it does not do anything other than relieve individual difficul- ties. It thereby differs from all other arrangements of public welfare and protection. For these would benefit all citizens--the military and police, school and roads, court and church, parliament and research. In principle these are not directed toward people as distinct individuals but rather to their totality itself; the union of many or all is the object of these institutions. The care of the poor, in contrast, in its concrete effects is entirely concerned with individuals and their condition. And precisely this individual becomes the destination of the modern abstract form of welfare, but not completely its ultimate purpose, which rather lies in the protection and support of the community. Indeed, one can- not designate the poor as a means to this--which would still improve the person's position--since the social action does not serve them but only a certain objective means of a material and administrative kind in order to eliminate the dangers threatened by them and to do away with the detractions from the achievable public interest. For sure this formal constellation apparently holds simply not only for the general whole but also for smaller circles: there is even unlimited help within the family not only for the sake of the person who is supported but thereby it would be no disgrace for the family and the family would not lose its reputation through the mere fact of a member's poverty. The support granted by the English labor unions to their members during unemployment was meant not so much to bring about an alleviation of individual want as to prevent the unemployed from working too cheaply out of need and thus depress the wage rate of the whole work force. From this meaning of welfare it becomes clear that, while it takes from the prosperous and gives to the poor, it still in no way approaches an equalization of these individual positions and that its idea will not at all overcome the tendency for the differentiation of society into rich and poor. Rather, the structure of society, as it simply exists, relies basically on the sharpest difference from any socialist and communist efforts that would have overcome this very structure. Its intent is precisely to mitigate some of the extreme manifestations of social division enough so that every structure can rely on it further. If it depended on the interest
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? in the individual poor person, there would in principle be no suitable limit where the provision of goods would have to stop, before it would achieve equality. But since it occurs instead of that, in the interest of the whole society--of political, familial, and any other socially defined circles--it has no basis for being sufficient in kind or quantity for the individual, since the preservation of the concerned totality in its status quo requires it.
Where this purely social, centralist teleology exists, the care of the poor offers perhaps the widest sociological tension between the imme- diate and remote end of an action. Emotionally, the alleviation of the subjective need is so categorical an end in itself that to dethrone it from its position of last resort and to make it a mere technique for the supra-subjective ends of a social unity, is a most extreme triumph of the social, a distancing of society from the individual that, with all its external inconspicuousness, is more fundamental and radical in its coolness and abstract character than the sacrifices of the individual for the whole, whereby means and end tend to be bound together in one emotional line.
The unique complication of duty and right that is found in modern government welfare is explained in this basic sociological conceptual- ization. In more than one instance, the principle confronts us that the duty to support the poor would exist on the part of the state, but no right on the part of the poor to be supported would correspond to it. As is expressly emphasized in England, for example, they have no cause for complaint or claim for damages for unlawfully denied support.
In some ways the entire relationship of duties and rights transcends them. The right that corresponds to every duty of the state is not theirs but that of every individual citizen for the taxes levied for the poor to be raised to such a high level and be used in such a way that the public purposes of caring for the poor are actually served as well. Thus the poor would not have a legal cause for action if the care for the poor were neglected, but only the other members indirectly injured by this neglect. Thus if one could prove, for example, that a thief would have refrained from a robbery if the legally proper and requested poor relief had been granted him, in principle the person robbed could prosecute the welfare agency for damages. Support for the poor occupies the same place in legal teleology as the protection of animals. No one among us is punished for simply tormenting an animal, but only for having done it "publicly or in a way that causes scandal. " Thus not the abused ani- mal but the consideration for the witnesses of the abuse motivates the
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? punishment. This exclusion of the poor, which grants them no ultimate position in the teleological chain--indeed as we saw, not even really the status of being a means--is also revealed in the fact that in the modern relatively democratic states almost only here the persons having an essential interest in the administration are absolutely uninvolved in the administration of it. For a conception thusly noted, the care for the poor is just an expenditure of public resources for public purposes; and since its entire teleology thus lies outside of the poor themselves--which correspondingly is not the case with the interests of other administra- tive matters--it is only logical for the principle of self-administration otherwise acknowledged to some degree not to apply to the poor and the care of them. If the state is somehow obliged by a law to divert a torrent of water and thus manage to irrigate a certain district, the brook is somewhat in the situation of the support of the poor by the state: they are admittedly the objects of duty, but not the bearers of a right corresponding to it, which is what the lands adjacent to the brook are. But if the exclusively centralizing interest prevails at first, so can the right-duty relationship also be shifted in view of utilitarian considerations. The draft of the Prussian poor law of 1842 emphasized that the state must undertake the care of the poor in the interest of the public's common good. To that end it would order under public law that their agencies be bound to the support of needy individuals; it would not be about the latter themselves, who would possess no legal claim. This is indicated more pointedly where the state law imposes a duty on the better situated relatives to feed the poor. Here at first glance the poor person actually seems to have a claim on the prosperous relative, a claim that the state endeavors to secure and enforce. The inner sense is different, however. The political community provides for the poor for practical reasons, and in turn it creates on its part the backing for support on the relatives since the costs would otherwise be prohibitive to it or at least believed to be so. The immediate claim of one person on another that is in play, to an extent, between the poor and the rich brother and which is only a moral one, does not apply to the law at all; the law has exclusively the interests of the whole to look after and perceives it from both sides: the poor who are supported and the cost it exacts from their relatives. Such proceedings as the following show that this is the sociological structure of the sustenance law and that they would in no way give the force of law to what is only a moral duty: Certainly the moral responsibility for support among siblings is a most highly stringent one. However, as it was meant to be legally
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? established in the first draft of the civil code, the motives recognized the extraordinary hardness of it without further comment, and the introduction thereby gave the justification that the public burden of the poor would otherwise be increased too much. The very same thing is proven by the fact that the legal obligation to support sometimes extends to deciding the amount that would be required from the indi- vidual-moral standpoint. The high court has decided against an old man in needy circumstances, ruling that he had to provide his only property, a few hundred marks, for the support of an unemployable son, even though he explained credibly that he would soon himself be unemployable and that the money was his only reserve. It is extremely doubtful whether one can still speak in this case of a moral right of the son; but the general society does not question this either but only about whether under general current norms it can be held harmless for its duty toward the poor person. Moreover, this inner meaning of the obligation to provide sustenance is rightly symbolized by the practical course: at first the poor person is supported adequately upon making a plea and then only is inquiry made into a son or father who eventu- ally, according to his financial status, will be sentenced to reimburse not the whole cost of the care, but perhaps a half or a third. The exclusively social meaning of the regulation is also discernible in that, according to the code of civil law, the obligation to support only has to enter in when it would not 'endanger' the 'living standard' of the person obligated. Whether support short of such endangerment would even be morally required in certain cases is at least doubtful. But the public cannot do without it in every instance since the descent of an individual in social standing does harm to the stability of society as a whole, which still seems to outweigh in social importance the material advantage to the individual gained by the extortion. Thus the duty to support does not contain a right of the poor to make a claim on their prosperous relatives; it is nothing other than the support duty obliging the state, which it passed on to the relatives and which required no corresponding claim at all on the part of the poor.
Now the above mentioned metaphor of the flowing stream was inex- act to the extent that the poor individual is not only a poor person but also a citizen. To the extent that the poor, admittedly, have their share in the entitlement that the law accords all citizens as a correlate of the duty of the state to support the poor, to maintain the parallel with the brook and the adjacent lands, they are both the brook and lands adjacent to it in the sense in which the richest citizen is too. Even though the state
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? services, formally standing at the same admittedly ideal distance over all citizens, gain a much different substantive importance for individual situations themselves, and if the poor person is therefore not involved in the welfare system as a goal-setting subject but only as a member of the encompassing teleological state organization, still the poor person's role, so to speak, in this state function is a different one from that of the prosperous person. Hence we have the sociological insight that the entire materially caused uniqueness in the situation of the supported poor that on the one hand makes an individual's well-being the end goal of assistance, and on the other places one in opposition to the general intention of the state as an object without rights and a material to be molded--that this does not quite prevent someone's belonging as a member of the body politic. Despite those two definitions by which welfare seems to place one outside the body politic, or more correctly, makes someone organically a part of the whole, the poor person belongs to the historical reality of the society that lives in him and above him, ever as much a form-sociological member as the official, the taxpayer, the teacher, or the mediator of some transaction. The poor person, who admittedly stands materially, so to speak, outside the group in which he or she dwells, behaves somewhat as a stranger to the group; but a whole structure simply exists that encompasses both the stranger and the indigenous parts of the group whose particular interactions with the stranger create a group in a wider sense and characterize the actual historically existing circle. Thus the poor person is admittedly put in a sense outside the group, but this being outside is only a particular kind of interaction with it that weaves one into a union with the whole in this widest sense.
The sociological antinomy of the poor, in which the social-ethical difficulties of caring for the poor are mirrored, is resolved by this conceptualization. The solipsistic tendency of the medieval type of alms, which I mentioned, went past the poor internally, so to speak, for whom the action pertains externally; it was the complete neglect of the principle: never treat the other person as a mere means but always as an end at the same time. If in principle now the recipient is also a donor, a causal ray returns from him the donor, and this just turns the gift into a reciprocal action, into a social occurrence. But as in any case, if the recipients are completely excluded from the intended process of giving, and they play no other role than that of a box into which a donation for a mass for the dead is placed, so is the interaction cut off, and the action of giving is not a social event but a purely individual
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? one. Now, however, it seems the modern handling of welfare does not treat the poor person as an end; but it still remains to be said that the poor person, standing in this teleological line that reaches beyond, still belongs organically to the whole and on that given basis is an element woven into its purposive process. Admittedly, a person's response to the donation that was given concerns each individual here as little as in the medieval form; but it thereby makes someone's economic activity possible again; it preserves someone's physical strength from decay, and someone's impulses are diverted from violent enrichment; the totality of their social circle on its part actually experiences a reaction to what it had done about the poor person. A purely individual relationship will only have ethical sufficiency and sociological perfection if every person is really the reciprocal goal of every other person--of course not only a goal; however, this does not apply to the actions of a supra-personal collective entity. Such an action with its teleology may quietly reach way over the individual and without being, so to speak, stopped by the individual, come back on itself: while every individual belongs to this totality, each thereby also, from the outset, stands at the endpoint of action; one is not, as in the other case, left outside, but in the same immediate denial of one's nature as being one's own end, one has, as a member of the whole, a part in its quality of being an intrinsic end.
Long before the clarification of this centralist viewpoint about the nature of welfare, its organic role in community life was indicated by substantial symbols. In earliest England the care for the poor began with the monasteries and church societies, and in fact, as will be explicitly emphasized, this came about because only property under mortmain possessed the reliable duration which is necessary for the care for the poor. The many secular donations from booty and penances did not serve the purpose since they did not yet find any foothold in the state administrative apparatus and were consumed without any continuing effect. The care for the poor was thus linked tightly to the only really substantially fixed point in the social warp and woof, and this linkage is shown in a negative way in the indignation about the clergy sent to England by Rome: because they would neglect the care for the poor. The foreign cleric simply did not feel internally linked to the com- munity life, and his not providing for the poor appears as the surest sign of this lack of solidarity. The exact same linkage of the care for the poor with the most fixed substrate of social existence will become clear in the later link of the English poor taxes with land ownership: this was both the cause and the effect of the poor being considered
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? one organic component belonging to the land as such. The very same is asserted legally in 1861 as a part of the responsibility for the poor was transferred from the parish to the society for the poor. The costs of the care would no longer be borne by the parish alone but by a fund to which the parishes made contributions proportionate to the value of their lands. The proposal that the distribution would still take into account the population size was rejected expressly and often. With that the individualistic factor was rejected completely; the sum of persons no longer appears as the bearer of the care for the poor but rather the supra-personal entity that finds its substrate in the objectivity of earth and land. And the care of the poor stands so much in the center of the social group that in local administration to this focal point was gradually appended first the school and highway administration, health and registration services. Also besides, the welfare agency immediately turned into a vehicle--since it worked well--of governmental unity. The North German Federation decided that no one in need of help in the whole federal territory should remain without help and that no North German poor in one part of the federal territory should receive differ- ent treatment than in another part. If external technical reasons led to the linkage of the care of the poor to land ownership in England, this does not therefore alter its deeper sociological meaning when, on the other hand, the joining of the other administrative branches to it, as was mentioned, points directly to great technical disadvantages arising from the crossing of counties by the welfare organizations. The contrast of their technical implications allows the unity of their sociological implications for this matter to become really evident.
It is therefore a completely one-sided view when the care of the poor was described as "an organization of the propertied classes for the satisfaction of the feelings of moral obligation associated with owner- ship. " Rather it is a part of the organization of the whole to which both the poor and the propertied classes belong. Just as the technical and material conditions of the social position of the poor make them out to be a mere object or transition point of a collective life looming over them, this is ultimately the role of every individual, concrete member of society. From the standpoint assumed for the moment, according to which what Spinoza said of God and the individual entity holds here: we can, of course, love God, but it would be contradictory for him, the unity including us, to love us back. Rather, what we devote to him would be a part of the unending love with which God loves himself. The particular exclusion that the poor experience on the part of the
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? community supporting them is the indicator for the role that they play within society, especially as a member; while one is technically a mere object of society, one is in a further sociological sense a subject who on the one hand forms, like all others, its reality, and on the other hand, as all others, stands beyond its supra-personal abstract unity.
Thus the general structure of the group also determines the answer to the question: Where does the poor person belong? If still engaging in any economic activity, a person belongs in as much a piece of the general economy that one deals with directly; in as much as someone is a member of a church, one belongs in it with no limitation differ- ing from that of the coinciding district; in as much as one is a family member, one belongs in the personally and spatially established group of relatives; but where does someone belong insofar as one is poor? A society that is held together or organized by ethnic consciousness assigns the poor to their ethnic group; in a different one whose ethical responsibilities are essentially arranged through the church, the church or pious associations are the places of the social response to the real- ity of the poor. The 'whereas' clauses in the 1871 German law on place of residence for support answer this question in this way: the poor would belong to that community--i. e. the community would be responsible for their support--which would have benefited from their economic power before their impoverishment. Within the latter prin- ciple lies a trace of the social structure in which, before the complete breakthrough of modern public policy theory, every local community was the place that enjoyed the economic accomplishments of those who are at present impoverished. Modern flexibility, the inter-regional exchange of all efforts, has lifted this restriction, so that only the entire body politic is considered the terminus a quo and ad quem of all activity. If state law now allows everyone to take up residence in any community whatever, the latter no longer has the correlate of its growing together with its inhabitants--namely the right to ward off the settlement of unsuitable persons; so the solidary bond with the individual can no more be expected from it in taking and giving. Only for practical reasons and only as organs of the state--as the cited 'whereas' clauses in the law emphasize--did the communities undertake the burden of the poor. This is thus the ultimate stage that the formal position of the poor achieved, revealing its dependence on the general stage of social development: it pertains to the largest practically possible social circle, not a part of the whole to the extent that it forms a unity at all, but the whole is the place or the power where the poor person, insofar as
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? being poor, belongs. Finally, for this circle, because it is the largest and it does not have anywhere where it could shift the responsibility outside of itself, the difficulty that the welfare workers in the small communities emphasize does not exist: the small communities thus frequently espe- cially struggled with supporting the poor since they feared they would be saddled with them forever if they once dealt with them at all. Here, however, a most effective feature of human interaction appears, which one can call moral induction: where a good deed of any kind, even the most spontaneous, most singular, in no way an obligatory duty, is performed, an obligation to continue with the good deed comes about that really lives on not only as a claim of the receiver but also in a feeling on the part of the giver. It is a quite ordinary experience that beggars, to whom one regularly gave, right away consider it their rightful claim and the donor's duty, the breaking off of which they reprimand as the misappropriation of an obligatory contribution owed them, so that they consequently feel more bitter about it than toward hardly anyone who would have completely and always denied them the donation. More- over, whoever maintained a needy person in higher circumstances for a long time after fixing precisely the period of support ahead of time, will nevertheless at the expiration of the period break off his offering with a painful feeling as if he were thereby encountering the violation of some obligation. With full consciousness a Talmudic law from the Jore Dea? h ritual code proclaims: Whoever has supported a poor person three times with equal amounts tacitly takes on a duty toward that person, even if one did not have the intent of continuing: it assumes the character of a vow that can be annulled only on special grounds (e. g. , one's own impoverishment). This case is much more complicated than that of a related one that forms the equivalent to odisse quem laeseris:1 one loves the person to whom one has done good. Then it is understandable that one projects the satisfaction about a good deed onto the person who provided the opportunity for it; in the love for the one whom one brought an offering, one in essence is loving oneself, just as in hatred for someone whom one has treated unjustly one hates oneself. With so simple a psychology the feeling of obligation that the good deed leaves to the doer is not to be interpreted as the only form of noblesse oblige. I believe that here, however, an a priori assumption is at work: that any activity of this kind--despite its apparently absolute
1 Latin: hating the person you have injured--ed.
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? voluntariness, its apparent character as an opus supererogationis2--would derive from an obligation, that under any such deed a deeply situated obligation becomes subconscious, which to a certain extent becomes apparent and tangible through the deed. It runs analogous to a theoreti- cal induction that nevertheless assumes the equivalence of a past and a future course not simply because the former was conditioned so and so but because a law was derived from this that determines it just like it must determine each future one. A moral instinct for that must lie under that one, so that the first good deed already also corresponded to a duty from which the second now is demanded no less than the first. This obviously touches upon the motives that this chapter raised. If, generally, all devotion, all doing good and selflessness is even in the most extreme case no more than simple duty and obligation, this principle in the form of a particular case may be so represented that every act of charity in its deepest sense--if one will, in its metaphysi- cal sense of morality--is the fulfillment of a duty manifested therein, which now of course is not completed by the isolated act. Rather it extends as far as the cause of the action still continues to exist. Any support shown to anyone would be the ratio cognoscendi3 whereby one of the ideal lines of obligation from one person to another runs here that shows its timelessness in the continued effect of the bond that was once realized.
Besides the two forms of the right-duty relationship--the poor person has a right to support and there exists a duty to support, which is not arranged as an entitlement of the poor person directed at the society, the self-preservation of which requires from everyone of its organs and from certain circles--besides these there exists a third that typically rules the moral consciousness; a duty to support the poor exists on the part of the public and on the part of the prosperous, which finds an adequate purpose for it in the improved circumstance of the poor person; to this corresponds the claim of the latter as the other side of the purely moral relationship between the needy and the well-placed. If I am not mistaken, the emphasis within this relationship was some- thing displaced since the eighteenth century. Most clearly in England the ideal of humanity and human rights have thrust aside the centralist point of view of the poor laws of Elizabeth--work had to be created
2 Latin: a work performed in addition to what one is obligated to do--ed.
3 Latin: basis for recognizing--ed.
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? for the poor person in the interest of the whole. Every poor person is to be entitled to a minimum existence just as much whether able and willing to work or not. In contrast, modern charity allows the correlation between moral duty (of the donor) and moral right (of the recipient) to be realized more by the former. Obviously this form is essentially realized by private charity, in contrast to public, and its sociological meaning is now the question for us.
First of all, to state the already mentioned tendency: treating the care of the poor more as a concern of the widest governmental circles after it was originally based everywhere on the community of the locality. At first the care for the poor person was the result of the communal bond that enveloped the community; before the supra-individual structure that the individuals saw around and above them was transformed from a community into the state, and before the freedom of movement com- pleted this process, factually and psychologically, it was natural for the local community to support the needy. This is of the utmost importance for the whole sociology of the poor person: of all the non-individualistic social claims based on a purely general quality, those of the poor are materially the most impressive. Disregarding such acute excitations as those from misfortune or sexual provocation, there are none that would be so completely impersonal, so indifferent toward the other qualities of their object and at the same time making claims so effectively and immediately as those from need and misery. This has always lent a spe- cifically local character to the duty toward the poor person, instead of centralizing it in so great a circle, instead of functioning through imme- diate perception only through the general concept of poverty--which is one of the longest roads sociological forms have had to cover between perception and abstraction. Since this change in the care for the poor person into an abstract state responsibility occurred--in England from 1834, in Germany somewhat after the middle of the century--its nature was modified in tandem with this centralizing form. Above all, the state admittedly kept the community obligated for the substantial part of the care, but now the community is only its agent. The local organiz- ing is turned into a mere technique by which the objectively greatest capacity for action could be achieved. The community is no longer the starting point but the passageway for welfare. Thus poor associations are constituted everywhere according to the consideration of their suit- ability, e. g. in England so that they can maintain one workhouse each and--which is a conscious tendency--remain free of the bias of local influences. The increasing use of salaried welfare officials has the same
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? intent. Such an official stands in relation to the poor person much more as a representative of the collectivity on which the official depends for a salary than does the unpaid one, who functions so to speak more as a person and will be allowed to hold sooner the human, person-to- person point of view rather than the purely objective one. Finally a most highly sociologically indicative division of tasks appears. The fact that furthermore welfare is also delegated essentially to the community is thus very useful since every case must be dealt with individually, and this is possible only from nearby, and with accurate knowledge of, the milieu; but if the community has to approve the assistance, it must also raise the means since it would readily manage the public funds all too generously. On the other hand there are cases of need for which the danger of pre-schematizing that is avoided in this way does not exist since this and the needed acts of care are established according to wholly objective criteria: illness, blindness, deaf-muteness, insanity, chronic illness. Here welfare is a more technical matter and thus the state or the large unit is more efficient; its greater means and central- ized administration, where personal matters and local circumstances are less decisive, point to its overwhelming advantages. And in addition to this qualitative determination of direct public activity, the quantita- tive appears, which especially distinguishes it from private charity; the state or the public in general only provides for the most urgent and immediate need. Everywhere, and most clearly in England, the care for the poor has the completely fixed principle that one could give to the poor person from the taxpayers' pockets only the absolutely necessary minimum of the cost of maintaining life.
Fundamentally this is related to the spiritual character of community action in general. The community, which encompasses the energies or interests of many individuals, can make room for their particularity only when it is a question of the whole structure of the division of labor whose members perform different functions. If, however, instead of this a uniform procedure is needed, whether directly or through a representative organ, its content can simply contain only the rela- tive minimum of the personality sphere on a par with that of every other. At first this results in no larger expenditure being allowed in the name of a community than what is expected also of its stingiest member. A collectivity that is currently found together may come to an agreement on an upsurge of extravagant generosity; but where the will of every individual is not proven so directly but must be presup-
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? posed on the part of representatives, the assumption can only be that each person wants to spend as little as possible. Admittedly this is not a logically unavoidable necessity--for which the opposite would not also be a logical contradiction--but it corresponds to a psychological dogma that has acquired the practical value of logical proof through the overwhelming magnitude of its empirical confirmation. Out of its necessity the quantification has to embrace in effect the lowest level of the intellectual, economic, cultural, aesthetic, etc. scale: the character of a minimum: the right valid for all is described as the ethical minimum; the logic valid for all is the intellectual minimum; the 'right to work' claimed for all can only be extended to the person who represents a minimum for its value character; membership in a party requires in principle only that one acknowledge the minimum of the party's prin- ciples without which it could not exist. This type of social minimum is expressed most completely even in the directly negative character of quantification and level of interest.
Excursus on the Negativity of Collective Behavior
The unity of the just mentioned phenomena comes about in many aspects only through negation, and in fact such phenomena often develop the char- acteristic of negativity in the degree of its numerical scope. In mass actions the motives of the individuals are often so divergent that their union is all the more possible the more their content is purely negative, indeed destructive. The dissatisfaction that leads to large-scale revolutions always feeds off so many and often so directly opposed sources that their unification around a positive goal would hardly be carried out. The formation of unity, then, tends to be the responsibility of smaller circles, and the dispersed energies of individuals have worked to put in order as well as to destroy the countless private undertakings intended to unify the masses. In view of this, one of the most knowledgeable historians asserted that the crowd would always be ungrateful since, although the whole would be brought to a flourishing condition, individuals would above all feel what they lack personally. The divergence of individual deci- sions that leaves to the collectivity only negation (which obviously is regarded only cum grano salis4 and beyond everything by which society overcomes this fate of its forces) is very evident, for example, in the late Russian revolution. 5 The unsafe spatial expansion, the personal differences in formation, the
4 Latin: with a grain of salt--ed.
5 Simmel appears to be referring to the 1905 failed revolution in Russia--ed.
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? variety of objectives that prevail in this movement actually made the idea of nihilism, the complete denial of what exists, into the applicable expression of the community for all its members.
The same trait appears in the outcome of large popular referenda, which is so often and almost incomprehensibly purely negative. Thus in Switzerland in 1900, for example, a law about confederate health and accident insurance would be flatly rejected by a referendum after it was accepted unanimously by both representatives of the people--the Nationalrat and the Sta? nderat; and this was just generally the fate of most statutory proposals that were subjected to referendum. Negation is just the simplest act, and thus large masses, whose members cannot agree upon a positive goal, just find themselves united in that. The standpoints of particular groups, by whom every law was rejected, were extremely different: particularistic and ultramontane, agrarian and capi- talist, technical and partisan--and thus could have nothing but negation in common. Of course, conversely also, therefore, where they agree at least in negative stands, negation can suggest or prepare for the unity of many small groups. Thus it is striking that admittedly the Greeks would have shown great cultural differences among one another, but if one even compared the Arca- dians and the Athenians with the contemporary Carthaginians or Egyptians, Persians, or Thracians, various negative characteristics would still have been held in common. Nowhere in historical Greece were there human sacrifices or deliberate mutilation; nowhere polygamy or the sale of children into slavery; nowhere the wholly unlimited obedience to an individual person. Amidst all the positive differences, the commonality of the purely negative still had to bring the solidarity to the consciousness of a cultural circle transcending the individual state.
The negative character of the bond that brings the large circle together into a unity appears above all in its norms. This is prepared by the phenom- enon of binding arrangements of any kind having to be all the simpler and fewer the larger the compass of their applicability would be, all things being equal--beginning approximately with the rules of international etiquette that are very much fewer than would be observed in every smaller group, up to the fact that the individual states of the German Reich tend to have all the less encompassing constitutions the larger they are. Expressed in principle: with a widening scope of the circle, the commonalities that bind every one in the social unity to every one else always become less extensive. Therefore what at first could appear paradoxical: generally, it is possible to hold a large circle together with a small minimal number of norms than a small one. Now, in a qualitative sense, the patterns of behavior that a group must demand of its members in order to be able to exist as a group tend to be all the more purely prohibitive and restrictive in nature, the more extensive it is: the posi- tive associations that give group life its unique substance member by member, must ultimately be left to the individual;6 the variety of persons, interests, and
6 Thus an English adage says: "The business of everybody is the business of nobody. " This unique becoming-negative on the part of an action also appears as soon as it
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? processes becomes too great for it to be regulated from a center. The prohib- iting function nevertheless remains only for the establishment of what must not be done under any circumstances, the limitation of freedom instead of steering it--by which is meant, of course, only the steering of a development continually thwarted and deflected by other tendencies. Thus it is so where a greater number of diverging circles of religious feeling or interest would be united into a unity. Allah emerged from the decline of Arab polytheism as the general conceptualization, so to speak, of God. Polytheism necessarily generates a religious splintering of faith circles since its components will turn to the different deities in unequal ways according to the difference in their inner and practical tendencies. Allah's abstract and unifying character is thus a negative one at first; it is his original nature "to keep off evil," but not to urge the doing of good; he is only the "one who restrains. " The Hebrew God, who brought about or expressed a union of socio-religious combination unheard in antiquity--compared to every diverging polytheism and every unsocial monism, as in India--gives its most strongly emphasized norms of conduct in the form: Thou shalt not. In the German Empire, positive relationships in life, which are subject to civil law, first found their standard form in the civil code about thirty years after the founding of the Empire; in contrast, the criminal code with its prohibitive stipulations was already uniformly codified in the Empire from 1872. Exactly what makes prohibition especially suitable for generalizing smaller circles into a larger one is the circumstance that the counterpart of forbidden things is in no way always what is commanded but often is only what is permitted. Thus if no ? could occur in the circle of A but probably ? and ? , no ? in the circle of B but probably ? and ? , no ? in C but ? and ? etc. --in this way the unified structure can be established in A, B, and C on the prohibition of ? , ? , and ? . Unity is only possible if ? and ? were not commanded in A but only permitted so that it can also be omitted. If instead ? and ? would be just as positively commanded, as ? is forbidden--and cor- respondingly in B and C--a unity would hardly appear because then what is directly proscribed on the one hand would then always be directly commanded on the other.
