“True Conceptions of Welfare”
We speak
much about the duty of avoiding excessive attachment to and misuse of wealth,
but our utterances are mostly of the nature of platitudes. We do not often think into them any concrete
meaning as to what precisely constitutes excessive attachment or misuse in the
matter of food, clothing, houses, amusements, and “social” activities. Or, when our concepts are more specific, they
are generally so liberal and lax as to fit only the very few whose offences
under these heads are striking, notorious, and universally condemned. As a contribution toward more definite views
and estimates, the present paper will attempt “to apply the Christian
conception to the actual life of today and to indicate more precisely the
content of a reasonable standard of life.”
According to
the Christian teaching, man’s chief business on earth is to fit himself for the
Life Beyond. This task he fulfills by
living up to the commandments of Christ and the moral law of nature. As applying to the use of material goods and
the satisfaction of material wants, the moral law may be summarized in the
following sentences. The soul, its life,
and its needs are intrinsically superior to the life and needs of the
body. The intellect and the
disinterested will are essentially higher faculties than the senses and the
selfish will. Hence right human life
consists, not in the indefinite satisfaction of material wants, but in striving
to know more and more, and to love more and more, the best that is to be known
and loved, namely, God, and, in proportion to their resemblance to Him, His
creatures. It demands that man shall
satisfy the cravings of his animal and lower nature only to the extent that is
compatible with a reasonable attention to the things of the mind and
spirit. The senses and their demands are
not on the same moral level as the reason; they are of subordinate worth and
importance; they perform the function of instruments. Whenever they are made coordinate with, or
superior to, the reason, whenever they are indulged so fare as to interfere
with the normal life and activity of the reason, there occur moral disorder,
perversion of function, and unrighteous conduct. Similarly, whenever the selfish encroaches
upon the disinterested will – as when we satisfy our senses with goods that
ought to go to the neighbor, when we indulge such passions as envy and hatred,
or when we expend upon our minds the time and energy that ought to be given to
family, neighbor, or country the moral order is inverted and violated.
Thus far the
moral law of reason and nature. The
supernatural, the Christian moral law is frankly ascetic; not in the sense that
it imposes upon all persons the Evangelical Counsels of poverty, chastity, and
obedience, but in as much as it requires men to wage a continuous struggle
against many of the cravings of appetite, and to deny many desires and
ambitions which are dear to self. Unless
the child subordinate his will that that of his parents, his love of play to
the demands of school, his desire of possession to reasonable self-discipline,
his selfishness and cruelty to the just claims of his playmates, he will grow
into a self-willed, passionate, and unlovable youth. He will be the antithesis of the Christian
type. The Christian young man or young
woman enters into a series of relations in which the need of self-denial is
intensified and widened. Purity demands
rigid control of the desires of the flesh; temperance requires careful
self-restraint in eating and drinking; justice enjoins respect for the rights
and goods of others, notwithstanding the powerful, manifold, and insidious
impulses that make for the violation of this precept; the law of labor forbids
indulging the tendency of idleness and slothfulness; charity commands the
denial of that self-satisfaction, self-comfort, and self-assertion which are
incompatible with the claims of Christian brotherhood. Christianity is ascetic in the stricter sense
of the term when it urges, nay, requires men to do without many things which
are in themselves lawful, in order that they may be the better able to pass by
the things that are unlawful. The words
of St. Paul concerning the athlete who “refrains himself from all things”
express the true Christian theory and practice.
Both the
natural and the Christian laws of conduct are, consequently, opposed to the
current ideals of life and welfare. Both
demand that the power to do without shall be cultivated to such a degree that
the lower nature in man shall be kept in constant subjection to the
higher. Both deny that it is lawful for
man to satisfy all wants indifferently or to seek the indefinite expansion and
satisfaction of his material wants.
Concerning
the value of material goods, the teaching of the Divine Founder of Christianity
is clear and forcible. Consider a few of
his pronouncements: “It is easier for a
camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the
kingdom of heaven.” “Woe to you
rich.” “Blessed are you poor.” “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on
earth.” “For a man’s life consisteth not
in the abundance of things that he possesseth.”
“Be not solicitous as to what you shall eat, or what you shall drink, or
what you shall put on.” “Seek ye first
the kingdom of God and his justice, and all these things shall be added unto
you.” “You cannot serve God and
mammon.” “If thou wouldst be perfect, go
sell what thou hast and give to the poor, and come follow me.” The doctrine of these texts is remote,
indeed, from the theory that right life consists in the ever-widening and
varying of material wants, and the ever fuller and more diversified satisfaction
of them. In many places, and under many
different forms, Christ insists that material possessions are unimportant for
the child of God, and that those who have much wealth will find it almost
impossible to get into His kingdom.
The great
Fathers of the Church used strong, almost extreme language in describing the
dangers of riches and denouncing the men of wealth of their time. Many of them are so severe that they have
been, incorrectly however, classified as socialists. St. Thomas Aquinas declared that although man
cannot entirely disregard the pursuit and the possession of external goods, he
ought to seek them with moderation and in conformity with the demands of a
simple life. Essentially the same views
have been held and taught by all the representative authorities of the Church throughout
the Middle Ages and down to the present hour.
Neither Christ nor His Church has ever sanctioned the theory that right
and reasonable life requires magnificent houses, furnishings, equipage, and
entertainment, sumptuous food and splendid apparel, costly recreation and
luxurious amusements.
Let us apply
these general truths and principles to the use of material goods and the
process of satisfying material wants, and with a new to more definite and
particular conclusions. To begin with,
we can enclose the field of material welfare by certain upper and lower limits,
within which ninety-nine of every hundred persons must have a place if they are
to enjoy satisfactory conditions of Christian living. It would seem that these conditions are
lacking whenever an average-sized family in one of the larger American cities
receives an annual income of less than $1,500.
When the family income falls below that amount per year, the quality and
amount of food; the size, appearance, adornment, and equipment of the home; the
kind of clothes; the scant provision for sickness, accidents, and old age; the
lack of sufficient means for recreation, books, newspapers, charity, and
religion; and the oppressively real fear of want, will subject the members of
the family to severe temptations that would be unfelt, or much less keenly
felt, if the income were above the figure named. Insufficient and monotonous food increases
the craving for strong drink; shabby clothes make persons ashamed to appear
among their fellows, and lead to loss of self-respect, discouragement, and
discontent; an unattractive home produces similar results and impels some
members of the family to seek outside associations, perhaps in the saloon; lack
of provision for the untoward contingencies of life fosters discouragement and
discontent which are harmful to thrift and industry, and productive of
irreligion and envy of the neighbor; inability to contribute to religion causes
men to remain away from church, while the absence of reading matter leaves the
mind barren; insufficiency of recreation is injurious to health, efficiency,
and contentment. All these evils are,
indeed, relative. They are felt by
families above as well as by those below the $1,500 limit. Nevertheless, they inflict serious, objective
injury upon one hundred of the latter to one of the former.
How shall we
define the upper limit of family expenditure that is compatible with decent
Christian living? The question may at
first sight seem preposterous, inasmuch as reasonable life is possible at many
different stages above the decent minimum.
Yet if the Christian view of life is correct, the maximum as well as the
minimum ought to be susceptible of concrete statement. If expenditures for material goods begin to
be harmful as soon as the limits of moderation are passed and the satisfaction
of the senses comes into conflict with the life of the spirit, those limits
ought to be capable of definition in terms of goods and of money. To deny this is implicitly to defend the
theory that right life consists in the indefinite satisfaction of indefinitely
expanding wants.
In the
matter of shelter the maximum for an average sized family – husband and wife
and four or five children – would seem to be a house of about twelve
rooms. Obviously the mere fact that the
residence contains a larger number of rooms does not constitute a serious
impediment to reasonable living. Not the
quantity of housing, but its accidentals and accessories, is the important
consideration. Not the rooms in excess
of twelve, but what they generally bring in their train, makes the
difference. When the limit here set down
is passed, it is not accidental comfort in the legitimate sense of that term
that is desired, but rather accommodations for numerous servants, facilities for
elaborate social functions, and the consciousness of occupying as large or as
imposing a dwelling as some neighbor or neighbors. Such a house will usually involve adornment,
furnishings, and equipment which will be distinguished more for costliness, richness,
and magnificence than simply for beauty.
All these
and many other ends, which assume prominence about the time that the
twelve-room limit is exceeded, do create real and serious hindrances to decent
Christian living. Chief among these
hindrances are: a great waste of time,
energy, thought, and money; many other demoralizing conditions that seem to be
inseparable from sumptuous dwellings and the individual and social life therein
fostered; the inevitable intensification of the passion of envy; the desire to
outdo one’s neighbors in the splendor of material possessions and in outward
show generally; a diminution of sincerity in social relations; a lessened
consciousness of the reality and universality of Christian brotherhood; and,
finally, immersion to such a degree in the things of matter that the higher
realities of life are easily forgotten or ignored.
Satisfaction
of the food want becomes excessive when the appetite is stimulated or pampered
to the injury of health, and when victuals come to be prized for their capacity
to please the palate rather than for their power to nourish. These conditions are reached sooner than most
person realize. Habitually to pass by
plain food, and to seek the tenderest and most delicate grades, implies a
condition in which the digestive organs are being overtaxed. Mere variety in the articles of diet, when
extended beyond moderate bounds, produces the same result. A liberal use of the accidentals, such as
condiments, relishes, exquisite desserts, is likewise harmful. Even a nice attention to the preparation and
serving of the food easily produces undue and injurious stimulation of the
appetite. These physical excesses, or
extravagances, are generally accompanied by evils of the moral order. The pleasure giving aspects of diet and of
eating become too prominent and are too carefully sought. There is an excessive attention to the
satisfaction of the food want which constitutes one form of the vice of
gluttony. From it follows a lessening of
control over other appetites; for the power of governing the senses is a
unified thing which becomes weakened as a while whenever it suffers injury in
any part. Failure to control the food
appetite, for example, reduces the ability to govern the sex appetite. Finally, the limits of reason are exceeded
when the accessories of eating, as the service, the dishes, the dining room
furniture, are distinguished chiefly for their costliness, richness, and
magnificence.
With regard
to clothing, there is excess as soon as the desire to be dressed comfortably
and decently becomes less prominent than the desire for conspicuousness,
richness, elaborateness, splendor. All
these are refinements, artificial complications, of the process of satisfying
the clothing want. When they come to be
regularly sought after, they cause a waste of money and a deterioration of
character. There is waste of money,
inasmuch as these ends are relatively – indeed, we might say, absolutely – of
no importance to reasonable living. The
character suffers through the indulgence of the passion for distinction in mere
possessions and the passions of pride, vanity, and envy. It is obviously impossible to draw with
precision the line which separates comfort, decency, and simply beauty from
conspicuousness, richness, elaboration, splendor; but the several estimates of
a carefully selected committee would probably show a fairly close agreement.
The tests of
simplicity, moderation, and comparative inexpensiveness mark off the reasonable
from the unreasonable in the matter of amusements and recreation. When these conditions are present all the
legitimate demands of these wants are abundantly supplied. The spirits are refreshed, the energies are relaxed,
the faculties are recreated. When these
bounds are exceeded, when amusements and recreation become elaborate, manifold,
and costly, or when they are elevated to a place among the important aims of
life, there occurs a perversion which is injurious both physically and
morally. Time and money are wasted,
energy is expended in the feverish pursuit of new forms of amusement, satiety
and disappointment increase, and the temptations to unrighteous conduct are
multiplied. Even the practice of making
extensive and frequent sojourns in foreign countries, while possessing some
educational advantages, consumes time and money out of all proportion to the
resulting benefits. In many cases its
chief effect is to satisfy jaded curiosity, fill up heavy-hanging time, or feed
the passions of vanity and conscious superiority.
The
activities that are denominated “social” afford perhaps the most striking
indication of the distinction between the reasonable and the meretricious in
the satisfaction of material wants.
There is a certain moderate scale of social activity and entertainment
in which the exercises, the dress, the refreshments, and all the other
accessories, are distinguished by a certain naturalness and simplicity. Where these conditions (which are more easily
recognized than described) are verified, the usual result is a maximum of enjoyment
and right human feeling. When these
limits are passed; when the chief concern is about the accessories of the
entertainment rather than the promotion of kindly human intercourse and
enjoyment; when the main object is to emulate the elaborateness, costliness, or
magnificence of some other “function” – genuine enjoyment and kindly feeling
are generally less than in the simpler conditions, while the damage to purse,
health, nerves, and character is almost invariably greater.
The
foregoing paragraphs may be correctly summarized in the statement that the
annual expenditure for material goods in the case of the overwhelming majority
of moderately sized families, ought not to exceed $10,000. Probably the range of expenditure which would
afford the best conditions of Christian life for a considerable majority of all
American families lies between $3,000 and $5,000 per annum.
The attempt
to state so precisely and to define so narrowly the cost of living according to
the Christian rule of life will probably strike many as presumptuous,
preposterous, artificial, arbitrary.
Nevertheless, if one is sincere, if one wishes to write to any serious
purpose, if one intends to get beyond empty platitudes, one much make some such
attempt and in some such terms. And the
writer is perfectly willing to have his estimate subjected to criticism, to
criticism as definite and concrete as the estimate itself. He is quite confident that, with very rare
exceptions, $10,000 will seem ample to cover all reasonable family expenditures
for material goods. When families go
beyond this figure they are satisfying wants which in the interests of the best
Christian life ought to be denied. In so
far as the added amount is spent on a house, its principle effect is to
increase not legitimate comfort, but pride, vanity, waste of time, and unsocial
feelings of superiority. In so far as it
is expended for dress it produces the same results, and makes persons unduly
attendant to and depended upon wants that are unnecessary, artificial, and
fundamentally ignoble. In so far as it goes for good, it does not mean more
nourishment, but some injury to health and an undue attachment to the lower or
animal life. In so far as it is
exchanged for amusements, recreation, or social activities, the same and other
vices are fostered without any counterbalancing good result.
Where the
family expends more than $10,000 for material goods, the results, except in a
few cases, will be harmful to Christian life, inasmuch as the senses will be
exalted to the detriment of the higher will and the reason, the altruistic
qualities will be unable to obtain reasonable development in the midst of so
many influences making for selfishness, and the character will grow soft, while
the power to do without will grow weak.
The belief
that men can live noble, religious, and intellectual lives in the presence of
abundant material satisfaction, is well called by the economist, Charles Perin,
“the most terrible seduction of our time.”
It counts among its adherents even the majority of Catholics. Whether they have little or much of this
satisfaction, they long for more, and are willing to run the risk of the
resulting demoralization. Nay, there are
Catholics, both clerical and lay, who realize that the majority of their
co-religionists whose expenditures are above the level described in these pages
would be “better off” in the true, the Catholic sense of these words, below
that level; yet these same Catholics rejoice when their friends reach that
scale of expenditure. So great is the
power of a dominant popular fallacy!
Perhaps the
strongest objection against the maximum set down here will be made on behalf of
“social position.” Larger, much larger
expenditures seem to many persons to be justified and necessary in order to
maintain that rank in society, that place among their fellows, that standard of
living to which they have become accustomed.
To sink below this scale would be a hardship and a departure from what
they and their friends have come to regard as decent living. Now the requirements of social rank are among
the legitimate needs that ought to be regularly met, for, as St. Thomas
expresses it, “no one ought to live unbecomingly.” In their discussions concerning the duties of
almsgiving and of restitution, the theologians have always made definite and
liberal allowance for this class of needs.
Let us remember, however, that their estimates and conclusions reflect
the social conditions of the Middle Ages, when the higher conveniences and the
luxuries which absorb the greater part of the expenditures of the well-to-do
classes today were practically all unknown; when most of the exceptional outlay
was for servants, attendants, and other accompaniments of public power; and
when high social rank had its basis less in wealth than in public or
quasi-public authority and functions.
Reference was for the most part to rulers, members of the nobility, and
public officials. Large concessions were
made to their demands on behalf of social position, in order to safeguard their
functions and influence among the people.
In other words, the chief reason was a social one; the people demanded a
certain magnificence in the lives of their rulers and of the other wielders of
social authority.
No such
considerations can be urged in favor of the rich in a country like ours. Neither popular welfare, nor popular
sentiment, nor any sane interpretation of decent or becoming living will
justify expenditures in excess of $10,000 per year. If any serious defense of them is to be
attempted, it must be based upon the assumption that any reduction of them
would injure the morals or the self-respect of persons who had long been
accustomed to this scale of living. That
any permanent deterioration in conduct or character would overtake any
considerable fraction of those who would descend to the $10,000 level, is a
supposition that may be summarily dismissed.
It is overwhelmingly probable that after a short time of adjustment to
the new conditions, the “descenders” with rare exceptions, would be stronger
morally than before. The hypothetical
injury to self-respect does not deserve serious consideration, inasmuch as it
refers to a false self-respect, a fear of being looked down upon by those who
have false standards of worth, dignity, and decency. The self-respect which is based upon the
extravagant satisfaction of material wants, and conditioned by the approval of
those who believe in that sort of thing, ought to be trampled upon and
eradicated.
Suppose that
Mr. Carnegie, who has declared that the duty of the man of wealth is “to set an
example of modest, unostentatious living, shunning display or extravagance,”
were to take these words seriously, interpreting them according to their
ordinary acceptation, and to move from his sumptuous Fifth Avenue mansion into
a comfortable, medium-sized house in a respectable, middle-class neighborhood,
there to live on a scale of simple and moderate comfort. Does anyone think that he would suffer any
real loss of self-respect, honor, reputation, public appreciation, or influence
for good? On the contrary, he would gain
in all these regards. Not the least of
his gains would be his enhanced credit for seriousness and sincerity. And his experience would be duplicated by
every rich man and rich woman who would make the experiment.
Those who
would take this step would be better off, not only in character and public
esteem, but even as regards contentment and happiness. At least, this would be the result of
practically all who are now above the $10,000 level were to place themselves
below it; for the principal factor impelling men to believe in the worth of
luxurious living, namely, the social worship of luxury, would have
disappeared. It is the popular faith in
the happiness-producing power of abundant material satisfaction that leads the
possessor of such satisfaction to cling to it.
In reality it causes a greater slavery of the mind to the senses, and
increases anxiety, worry, and satiety. “In
proportion as a man strives to exalt and secure himself through external goods,
he falls back wretchedly upon himself and experiences an increase of
dissatisfaction and ennui” (Perin, “De le Richesse” p. 11).
If only a
few were to make the experiment, they would undoubtedly suffer considerable
mental anguish, but it would only be temporary.
Besides, it would be more than offset by the increase of mental and
moral freedom, by a deeper and truer self-respect, and by the genuine approval
of the larger and saner part of the community.
The
foregoing discussion may be profitably supplemented by a word on the social
aspects of excessive living expenditures.
Beyond doubt, a scale of living in excess of the maximum limit defined
in these pages renders the overwhelming majority of those who adopt it less
able and less willing to make sacrifices for the public good, whether on the
field of battle, in public life, or through any other form of social
service. It makes great achievements in
art, science or literature morally impossible, for the simple reason that it
reduces to a minimum the power to abstain, to endure, to wait patiently for
large results. Nor is this all. For every person who lives according to this
pernicious standard, there are thousands who are unable to do so, yet who adopt
it as their ideal and strive to imitate it so far as they are able. Hence these, too, suffer immeasurable hurt in
their capacity for self-sacrifice, generosity, and disinterested social
service. All the lessons of history point
unhesitatingly to the conclusion that social no less than individual welfare,
is best promoted by moderate living.
Colonel Roosevelt stated this truth in terms that ought to be committed
to memory and constantly pondered by every one of his countrymen: “In the last analysis a healthy state can
exist only when the men and women who make it lead clean, vigorous, healthy
lives; when the children are so trained that they shall endeavor, not to shirk
difficulties, but to overcome them, not to seek ease, but to know how to wrest
triumph from toil and risk. The man must
be glad to do a man’s work, to dare and endure, and to labor; to keep himself,
and to keep those dependent upon him.
The woman must be the housewife, the helpmeet of the homemaker, the wise
and fearless mother of many children” (“The Strenuous Life,” p, 5). In the opinion of the writer, there are five
hundred chances to one that a family will realize these conditions much more
fully below than above the $10,000 level.
A stock
objection to the doctrine here defended rests on the assertion that every
community needs some examples of life on a scale of material magnificence, in
order to prevent the dulling and deadening effect of monotonous
mediocrity. Precisely why all the real
and solid effects of variety could not be had within the limits set in this
paper is not easily seen. The
satisfaction and the uplifting influence that are derived by the masses from
the contemplation of palatial residences, splendid raiment and equipages, and
the other public manifestations of excessive expenditure, would be vastly
overtopped by the benefits that would follow the investment of this money in
decent habitations for the poor, schools, hospitals, parks, playgrounds, art
galleries, and public concerts. There
would also be a decrease of social hatred, envy, and discontent. At any rate a reduction of 90% in the number
of the existing instances of magnificent living would, owing to the comparative
rarity of the phenomenon, increase the impression made upon the minds and
imaginations of the masses.
The argument
on behalf of lavish expenditures for works of art in private residences is
likewise of little value. The assistance
and encouragement given to artists would be equally great if these purchases
were made for the benefit of public galleries.
It must be
admitted that luxurious living benefits industry insofar as it prevents an
excessive accumulation of capital and increases the demand for the products of
capital and industry, but the money thus spent would be doubly beneficial if it
were employed in works of public and private benevolence.
No direct
reference has been made in the present paper to the question of great private
fortunes. While these are a necessary
condition of excessive standards of living, they are separable, at least in
theory, from the latter, and present a distinct problem. The sole object of these pages has been to
define as precisely as possible the range of expenditure which is most
compatible with – which, indeed, may be called normal for – Christian living. Describing this in terms of dollars may, at
first sight, seem ridiculous.
Nevertheless, those who admit the soundness of the underlying principles
cannot set aside the estimate with a wave of the hand. Possibly they will find that it is not easily
overthrown by concrete argument.
Throughout the article the writer has had chiefly in mind
Catholics. For they, too, are, to a
deplorable extent, under the delusion that valuable life consists in the
indefinite satisfaction of material wants.
This delusion injures those who are below as well as those who are above
the reasonable maximum. The former are
discontented where they ought to be well-satisfied, and envious where they
ought to be thankful because of the temptations that they have escaped. The latter frequently see their children grow
weak in faith and character, while they themselves become worldly, cold, and
ungenerous. The contributions to
religion, charity, or education by Catholics who live sumptuously, by all
Catholics, indeed, who exceed the bounds of simple and moderate living – are,
generally speaking, utterly inadequate as compared with their income. Herein consists the inordinate attachment to
wealth which is contrary to the Christian principle. It is no longer the ridiculous passion for
gold which obsessed the misers of our nursery tales; it is simply the striving
for and indulgence in excessive amounts of material satisfaction.
- Msgr. John Ryan, The Church and Socialism, pp. 197-216, University Press, Washington, D.C. As in J.F. Leibell, Readings in Ethics, 1926, p. 245-258.
