INTRODUCTION. THE ERA OF CROWDS.
THE CROWD A STUDY OF THE POPULAR MIND
The
following work is devoted to an account of the characteristics of
crowds.The
whole of the common characteristics with which heredity endows the
individuals of a race constitute the genius of the race. When,
however, a certain number of these individuals are gathered
together
in a crowd for purposes of action, observation proves that, from
the
mere fact of their being assembled, there result certain new
psychological characteristics, which are added to the racial
characteristics and differ from them at times to a very
considerable
degree.Organised
crowds have always played an important part in the life of peoples,
but this part has never been of such moment as at present. The
substitution of the unconscious action of crowds for the conscious
activity of individuals is one of the principal characteristics of
the present age.I
have endeavoured to examine the difficult problem presented by
crowds
in a purely scientific manner—that is, by making an effort to
proceed with method, and without being influenced by opinions,
theories, and doctrines. This, I believe, is the only mode of
arriving at the discovery of some few particles of truth,
especially
when dealing, as is the case here, with a question that is the
subject of impassioned controversy. A man of science bent on
verifying a phenomenon is not called upon to concern himself with
the
interests his verifications may hurt. In a recent publication an
eminent thinker, M. Goblet d'Alviela, made the remark that,
belonging
to none of the contemporary schools, I am occasionally found in
opposition of sundry of the conclusions of all of them. I hope this
new work will merit a similar observation. To belong to a school is
necessarily to espouse its prejudices and preconceived
opinions.Still
I should explain to the reader why he will find me draw conclusions
from my investigations which it might be thought at first sight
they
do not bear; why, for instance, after noting the extreme mental
inferiority of crowds, picked assemblies included, I yet affirm it
would be dangerous to meddle with their organisation,
notwithstanding
this inferiority.The
reason is, that the most attentive observation of the facts of
history has invariably demonstrated to me that social organisms
being
every whit as complicated as those of all beings, it is in no wise
in
our power to force them to undergo on a sudden far-reaching
transformations. Nature has recourse at times to radical measures,
but never after our fashion, which explains how it is that nothing
is
more fatal to a people than the mania for great reforms, however
excellent these reforms may appear theoretically. They would only
be
useful were it possible to change instantaneously the genius of
nations. This power, however, is only possessed by time. Men are
ruled by ideas, sentiments, and customs—matters which are of the
essence of ourselves. Institutions and laws are the outward
manifestation of our character, the expression of its needs. Being
its outcome, institutions and laws cannot change this
character.The
study of social phenomena cannot be separated from that of the
peoples among whom they have come into existence. From the
philosophic point of view these phenomena may have an absolute
value;
in practice they have only a relative value.It
is necessary, in consequence, when studying a social phenomenon, to
consider it successively under two very different aspects. It will
then be seen that the teachings of pure reason are very often
contrary to those of practical reason. There are scarcely any data,
even physical, to which this distinction is not applicable. From
the
point of view of absolute truth a cube or a circle are invariable
geometrical figures, rigorously defined by certain formulas. From
the
point of view of the impression they make on our eye these
geometrical figures may assume very varied shapes. By perspective
the
cube may be transformed into a pyramid or a square, the circle into
an ellipse or a straight line. Moreover, the consideration of these
fictitious shapes is far more important than that of the real
shapes,
for it is they and they alone that we see and that can be
reproduced
by photography or in pictures. In certain cases there is more truth
in the unreal than in the real. To present objects with their exact
geometrical forms would be to distort nature and render it
unrecognisable. If we imagine a world whose inhabitants could only
copy or photograph objects, but were unable to touch them, it would
be very difficult for such persons to attain to an exact idea of
their form. Moreover, the knowledge of this form, accessible only
to
a small number of learned men, would present but a very minor
interest.The
philosopher who studies social phenomena should bear in mind that
side by side with their theoretical value they possess a practical
value, and that this latter, so far as the evolution of
civilisation
is concerned, is alone of importance. The recognition of this fact
should render him very circumspect with regard to the conclusions
that logic would seem at first to enforce upon him.There
are other motives that dictate to him a like reserve. The
complexity
of social facts is such, that it is impossible to grasp them as a
whole and to foresee the effects of their reciprocal influence. It
seems, too, that behind the visible facts are hidden at times
thousands of invisible causes. Visible social phenomena appear to
be
the result of an immense, unconscious working, that as a rule is
beyond the reach of our analysis. Perceptible phenomena may be
compared to the waves, which are the expression on the surface of
the
ocean of deep-lying disturbances of which we know nothing. So far
as
the majority of their acts are considered, crowds display a
singularly inferior mentality; yet there are other acts in which
they
appear to be guided by those mysterious forces which the ancients
denominated destiny, nature, or providence, which we call the
voices
of the dead, and whose power it is impossible to overlook, although
we ignore their essence. It would seem, at times, as if there were
latent forces in the inner being of nations which serve to guide
them. What, for instance, can be more complicated, more logical,
more
marvellous than a language? Yet whence can this admirably organised
production have arisen, except it be the outcome of the unconscious
genius of crowds? The most learned academics, the most esteemed
grammarians can do no more than note down the laws that govern
languages; they would be utterly incapable of creating them. Even
with respect to the ideas of great men are we certain that they are
exclusively the offspring of their brains? No doubt such ideas are
always created by solitary minds, but is it not the genius of
crowds
that has furnished the thousands of grains of dust forming the soil
in which they have sprung up?Crowds,
doubtless, are always unconscious, but this very unconsciousness is
perhaps one of the secrets of their strength. In the natural world
beings exclusively governed by instinct accomplish acts whose
marvellous complexity astounds us. Reason is an attribute of
humanity
of too recent date and still too imperfect to reveal to us the laws
of the unconscious, and still more to take its place. The part
played
by the unconscious in all our acts is immense, and that played by
reason very small. The unconscious acts like a force still
unknown.If
we wish, then, to remain within the narrow but safe limits within
which science can attain to knowledge, and not to wander in the
domain of vague conjecture and vain hypothesis, all we must do is
simply to take note of such phenomena as are accessible to us, and
confine ourselves to their consideration. Every conclusion drawn
from
our observation is, as a rule, premature, for behind the phenomena
which we see clearly are other phenomena that we see indistinctly,
and perhaps behind these latter, yet others which we do not see at
all.
INTRODUCTION. THE ERA OF CROWDS.
The
evolution of the present age—The great changes in civilisation are
the consequence of changes in National thought—Modern belief in the
power of crowds—It transforms the traditional policy of the
European states—How the rise of the popular classes comes about,
and the manner in which they exercise their power—The necessary
consequences of the power of the crowd—Crowds unable to play a part
other than destructive—The dissolution of worn-out civilisations is
the work of the crowd—General ignorance of the psychology of
crowds— Importance of the study of crowds for legislators and
statesmen.The
great upheavals which precede changes of civilisations such as the
fall of the Roman Empire and the foundation of the Arabian Empire,
seem at first sight determined more especially by political
transformations, foreign invasion, or the overthrow of dynasties.
But
a more attentive study of these events shows that behind their
apparent causes the real cause is generally seen to be a profound
modification in the ideas of the peoples. The true historical
upheavals are not those which astonish us by their grandeur and
violence. The only important changes whence the renewal of
civilisations results, affect ideas, conceptions, and beliefs. The
memorable events of history are the visible effects of the
invisible
changes of human thought. The reason these great events are so rare
is that there is nothing so stable in a race as the inherited
groundwork of its thoughts.The
present epoch is one of these critical moments in which the thought
of mankind is undergoing a process of transformation.Two
fundamental factors are at the base of this transformation. The
first
is the destruction of those religious, political, and social
beliefs
in which all the elements of our civilisation are rooted. The
second
is the creation of entirely new conditions of existence and thought
as the result of modern scientific and industrial
discoveries.The
ideas of the past, although half destroyed, being still very
powerful, and the ideas which are to replace them being still in
process of formation, the modern age represents a period of
transition and anarchy.It
is not easy to say as yet what will one day be evolved from this
necessarily somewhat chaotic period. What will be the fundamental
ideas on which the societies that are to succeed our own will be
built up? We do not at present know. Still it is already clear that
on whatever lines the societies of the future are organised, they
will have to count with a new power, with the last surviving
sovereign force of modern times, the power of crowds. On the ruins
of
so many ideas formerly considered beyond discussion, and to-day
decayed or decaying, of so many sources of authority that
successive
revolutions have destroyed, this power, which alone has arisen in
their stead, seems soon destined to absorb the others. While all
our
ancient beliefs are tottering and disappearing, while the old
pillars
of society are giving way one by one, the power of the crowd is the
only force that nothing menaces, and of which the prestige is
continually on the increase. The age we are about to enter will in
truth be the ERA OF CROWDS.Scarcely
a century ago the traditional policy of European states and the
rivalries of sovereigns were the principal factors that shaped
events. The opinion of the masses scarcely counted, and most
frequently indeed did not count at all. To-day it is the traditions
which used to obtain in politics, and the individual tendencies and
rivalries of rulers which do not count; while, on the contrary, the
voice of the masses has become preponderant. It is this voice that
dictates their conduct to kings, whose endeavour is to take note of
its utterances. The destinies of nations are elaborated at present
in
the heart of the masses, and no longer in the councils of
princes.The
entry of the popular classes into political life—that is to say, in
reality, their progressive transformation into governing classes—is
one of the most striking characteristics of our epoch of
transition.
The introduction of universal suffrage, which exercised for a long
time but little influence, is not, as might be thought, the
distinguishing feature of this transference of political power. The
progressive growth of the power of the masses took place at first
by
the propagation of certain ideas, which have slowly implanted
themselves in men's minds, and afterwards by the gradual
association
of individuals bent on bringing about the realisation of
theoretical
conceptions. It is by association that crowds have come to procure
ideas with respect to their interests which are very clearly
defined
if not particularly just, and have arrived at a consciousness of
their strength. The masses are founding syndicates before which the
authorities capitulate one after the other; they are also founding
labour unions, which in spite of all economic laws tend to regulate
the conditions of labour and wages. They return to assemblies in
which the Government is vested, representatives utterly lacking
initiative and independence, and reduced most often to nothing else
than the spokesmen of the committees that have chosen them.To-day
the claims of the masses are becoming more and more sharply
defined,
and amount to nothing less than a determination to utterly destroy
society as it now exists, with a view to making it hark back to
that
primitive communism which was the normal condition of all human
groups before the dawn of civilisation. Limitations of the hours of
labour, the nationalisation of mines, railways, factories, and the
soil, the equal distribution of all products, the elimination of
all
the upper classes for the benefit of the popular classes, &c.,
such are these claims.Little
adapted to reasoning, crowds, on the contrary, are quick to act. As
the result of their present organisation their strength has become
immense. The dogmas whose birth we are witnessing will soon have
the
force of the old dogmas; that is to say, the tyrannical and
sovereign
force of being above discussion. The divine right of the masses is
about to replace the divine right of kings.The
writers who enjoy the favour of our middle classes, those who best
represent their rather narrow ideas, their somewhat prescribed
views,
their rather superficial scepticism, and their at times somewhat
excessive egoism, display profound alarm at this new power which
they
see growing; and to combat the disorder in men's minds they are
addressing despairing appeals to those moral forces of the Church
for
which they formerly professed so much disdain. They talk to us of
the
bankruptcy of science, go back in penitence to Rome, and remind us
of
the teachings of revealed truth. These new converts forget that it
is
too late. Had they been really touched by grace, a like operation
could not have the same influence on minds less concerned with the
preoccupations which beset these recent adherents to religion. The
masses repudiate to-day the gods which their admonishers repudiated
yesterday and helped to destroy. There is no power, Divine or
human,
that can oblige a stream to flow back to its source.There
has been no bankruptcy of science, and science has had no share in
the present intellectual anarchy, nor in the making of the new
power
which is springing up in the midst of this anarchy. Science
promised
us truth, or at least a knowledge of such relations as our
intelligence can seize: it never promised us peace or happiness.
Sovereignly indifferent to our feelings, it is deaf to our
lamentations. It is for us to endeavour to live with science, since
nothing can bring back the illusions it has destroyed.Universal
symptoms, visible in all nations, show us the rapid growth of the
power of crowds, and do not admit of our supposing that it is
destined to cease growing at an early date. Whatever fate it may
reserve for us, we shall have to submit to it. All reasoning
against
it is a mere vain war of words. Certainly it is possible that the
advent to power of the masses marks one of the last stages of
Western
civilisation, a complete return to those periods of confused
anarchy
which seem always destined to precede the birth of every new
society.
But may this result be prevented?Up
to now these thoroughgoing destructions of a worn-out civilisation
have constituted the most obvious task of the masses. It is not
indeed to-day merely that this can be traced. History tells us,
that
from the moment when the moral forces on which a civilisation
rested
have lost their strength, its final dissolution is brought about by
those unconscious and brutal crowds known, justifiably enough, as
barbarians. Civilisations as yet have only been created and
directed
by a small intellectual aristocracy, never by crowds. Crowds are
only
powerful for destruction. Their rule is always tantamount to a
barbarian phase. A civilisation involves fixed rules, discipline, a
passing from the instinctive to the rational state, forethought for
the future, an elevated degree of culture—all of them conditions
that crowds, left to themselves, have invariably shown themselves
incapable of realising. In consequence of the purely destructive
nature of their power crowds act like those microbes which hasten
the
dissolution of enfeebled or dead bodies. When the structure of a
civilisation is rotten, it is always the masses that bring about
its
downfall. It is at such a juncture that their chief mission is
plainly visible, and that for a while the philosophy of number
seems
the only philosophy of history.Is
the same fate in store for our civilisation? There is ground to
fear
that this is the case, but we are not as yet in a position to be
certain of it.However
this may be, we are bound to resign ourselves to the reign of the
masses, since want of foresight has in succession overthrown all
the
barriers that might have kept the crowd in check.We
have a very slight knowledge of these crowds which are beginning to
be the object of so much discussion. Professional students of
psychology, having lived far from them, have always ignored them,
and
when, as of late, they have turned their attention in this
direction
it has only been to consider the crimes crowds are capable of
committing. Without a doubt criminal crowds exist, but virtuous and
heroic crowds, and crowds of many other kinds, are also to be met
with. The crimes of crowds only constitute a particular phase of
their psychology. The mental constitution of crowds is not to be
learnt merely by a study of their crimes, any more than that of an
individual by a mere description of his vices.However,
in point of fact, all the world's masters, all the founders of
religions or empires, the apostles of all beliefs, eminent
statesmen,
and, in a more modest sphere, the mere chiefs of small groups of
men
have always been unconscious psychologists, possessed of an
instinctive and often very sure knowledge of the character of
crowds,
and it is their accurate knowledge of this character that has
enabled
them to so easily establish their mastery. Napoleon had a
marvellous
insight into the psychology of the masses of the country over which
he reigned, but he, at times, completely misunderstood the
psychology
of crowds belonging to other races;[1] and it is because he thus
misunderstood it that he engaged in Spain, and notably in Russia,
in
conflicts in which his power received blows which were destined
within a brief space of time to ruin it. A knowledge of the
psychology of crowds is to-day the last resource of the statesman
who
wishes not to govern them—that is becoming a very difficult
matter—but at any rate not to be too much governed by them.[1]
His most subtle advisers, moreover, did not understand this
psychology any better. Talleyrand wrote him that "Spain would
receive his soldiers as liberators." It received them as beasts
of prey. A psychologist acquainted with the hereditary instincts of
the Spanish race would have easily foreseen this reception.It
is only by obtaining some sort of insight into the psychology of
crowds that it can be understood how slight is the action upon them
of laws and institutions, how powerless they are to hold any
opinions
other than those which are imposed upon them, and that it is not
with
rules based on theories of pure equity that they are to be led, but
by seeking what produces an impression on them and what seduces
them.
For instance, should a legislator, wishing to impose a new tax,
choose that which would be theoretically the most just? By no
means.
In practice the most unjust may be the best for the masses. Should
it
at the same time be the least obvious, and apparently the least
burdensome, it will be the most easily tolerated. It is for this
reason that an indirect tax, however exorbitant it be, will always
be
accepted by the crowd, because, being paid daily in fractions of a
farthing on objects of consumption, it will not interfere with the
habits of the crowd, and will pass unperceived. Replace it by a
proportional tax on wages or income of any other kind, to be paid
in
a lump sum, and were this new imposition theoretically ten times
less
burdensome than the other, it would give rise to unanimous protest.
This arises from the fact that a sum relatively high, which will
appear immense, and will in consequence strike the imagination, has
been substituted for the unperceived fractions of a farthing. The
new
tax would only appear light had it been saved farthing by farthing,
but this economic proceeding involves an amount of foresight of
which
the masses are incapable.The
example which precedes is of the simplest. Its appositeness will be
easily perceived. It did not escape the attention of such a
psychologist as Napoleon, but our modern legislators, ignorant as
they are of the characteristics of a crowd, are unable to
appreciate
it. Experience has not taught them as yet to a sufficient degree
that
men never shape their conduct upon the teaching of pure
reason.Many
other practical applications might be made of the psychology of
crowds. A knowledge of this science throws the most vivid light on
a
great number of historical and economic phenomena totally
incomprehensible without it. I shall have occasion to show that the
reason why the most remarkable of modern historians, Taine, has at
times so imperfectly understood the events of the great French
Revolution is, that it never occurred to him to study the genius of
crowds. He took as his guide in the study of this complicated
period
the descriptive method resorted to by naturalists; but the moral
forces are almost absent in the case of the phenomena which
naturalists have to study. Yet it is precisely these forces that
constitute the true mainsprings of history.In
consequence, merely looked at from its practical side, the study of
the psychology of crowds deserved to be attempted. Were its
interest
that resulting from pure curiosity only, it would still merit
attention. It is as interesting to decipher the motives of the
actions of men as to determine the characteristics of a mineral or
a
plant. Our study of the genius of crowds can merely be a brief
synthesis, a simple summary of our investigations. Nothing more
must
be demanded of it than a few suggestive views. Others will work the
ground more thoroughly. To-day we only touch the surface of a still
almost virgin soil.
CHAPTER I
GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF CROWDS.—PSYCHOLOGICAL LAW OF
THEIR MENTAL UNITY.
What constitutes a crowd
from the psychological point of view—A numerically strong
agglomeration of individuals does not suffice to form a
crowd—Special characteristics of psychological crowds—The turning
in a fixed direction of the ideas and sentiments of individuals
composing such a crowd, and the disappearance of their
personality—The crowd is always dominated by considerations of
which it is unconscious—The disappearance of brain activity and the
predominance of medullar activity—The lowering of the intelligence
and the complete transformation of the sentiments—The transformed
sentiments may be better or worse than those of the individuals of
which the crowd is composed—A crowd is as easily heroic as
criminal.
In its ordinary sense the word
"crowd" means a gathering of individuals of whatever nationality,
profession, or sex, and whatever be the chances that have brought
them together. From the psychological point of view the expression
"crowd" assumes quite a different signification. Under certain
given circumstances, and only under those circumstances, an
agglomeration of men presents new characteristics very different
from those of the individuals composing it. The sentiments and
ideas of all the persons in the gathering take one and the same
direction, and their conscious personality vanishes. A collective
mind is formed, doubtless transitory, but presenting very clearly
defined characteristics. The gathering has thus become what, in the
absence of a better expression, I will call an organised crowd, or,
if the term is considered preferable, a psychological crowd. It
forms a single being, and is subjected to the LAW OF THE MENTAL
UNITY OF CROWDS.
It is evident that it is not
by the mere fact of a number of individuals finding themselves
accidentally side by side that they acquire the character of an
organised crowd. A thousand individuals accidentally gathered in a
public place without any determined object in no way constitute a
crowd from the psychological point of view. To acquire the special
characteristics of such a crowd, the influence is necessary of
certain predisposing causes of which we shall have to determine the
nature.
The disappearance of
conscious personality and the turning of feelings and thoughts in a
definite direction, which are the primary characteristics of a
crowd about to become organised, do not always involve the
simultaneous presence of a number of individuals on one spot.
Thousands of isolated individuals may acquire at certain moments,
and under the influence of certain violent emotions—such, for
example, as a great national event—the characteristics of a
psychological crowd. It will be sufficient in that case that a mere
chance should bring them together for their acts to at once assume
the characteristics peculiar to the acts of a crowd. At certain
moments half a dozen men might constitute a psychological crowd,
which may not happen in the case of hundreds of men gathered
together by accident. On the other hand, an entire nation, though
there may be no visible agglomeration, may become a crowd under the
action of certain influences.
A psychological crowd once
constituted, it acquires certain provisional but determinable
general characteristics. To these general characteristics there are
adjoined particular characteristics which vary according to the
elements of which the crowd is composed, and may modify its mental
constitution. Psychological crowds, then, are susceptible of
classification; and when we come to occupy ourselves with this
matter, we shall see that a heterogeneous crowd—that is, a crowd
composed of dissimilar elements—presents certain characteristics in
common with homogeneous crowds—that is, with crowds composed of
elements more or less akin (sects, castes, and classes)—and side by
side with these common characteristics particularities which permit
of the two kinds of crowds being differentiated.
But before occupying
ourselves with the different categories of crowds, we must first of
all examine the characteristics common to them all. We shall set to
work like the naturalist, who begins by describing the general
characteristics common to all the members of a family before
concerning himself with the particular characteristics which allow
the differentiation of the genera and species that the family
includes.
It is not easy to describe
the mind of crowds with exactness, because its organisation varies
not only according to race and composition, but also according to
the nature and intensity of the exciting causes to which crowds are
subjected. The same difficulty, however, presents itself in the
psychological study of an individual. It is only in novels that
individuals are found to traverse their whole life with an
unvarying character. It is only the uniformity of the environment
that creates the apparent uniformity of characters. I have shown
elsewhere that all mental constitutions contain possibilities of
character which may be manifested in consequence of a sudden change
of environment. This explains how it was that among the most savage
members of the French Convention were to be found inoffensive
citizens who, under ordinary circumstances, would have been
peaceable notaries or virtuous magistrates. The storm past, they
resumed their normal character of quiet, law-abiding citizens.
Napoleon found amongst them his most docile servants.
It being impossible to study
here all the successive degrees of organisation of crowds, we shall
concern ourselves more especially with such crowds as have attained
to the phase of complete organisation. In this way we shall see
what crowds may become, but not what they invariably are. It is
only in this advanced phase of organisation that certain new and
special characteristics are superposed on the unvarying and
dominant character of the race; then takes place that turning
already alluded to of all the feelings and thoughts of the
collectivity in an identical direction. It is only under such
circumstances, too, that what I have called above the PSYCHOLOGICAL
LAW OF THE MENTAL UNITY OF CROWDS comes into play.
Among the psychological
characteristics of crowds there are some that they may present in
common with isolated individuals, and others, on the contrary,
which are absolutely peculiar to them and are only to be met with
in collectivities. It is these special characteristics that we
shall study, first of all, in order to show their
importance.
The most striking
peculiarity presented by a psychological crowd is the following:
Whoever be the individuals that compose it, however like or unlike
be their mode of life, their occupations, their character, or their
intelligence, the fact that they have been transformed into a crowd
puts them in possession of a sort of collective mind which makes
them feel, think, and act in a manner quite different from that in
which each individual of them would feel, think, and act were he in
a state of isolation. There are certain ideas and feelings which do
not come into being, or do not transform themselves into acts
except in the case of individuals forming a crowd. The
psychological crowd is a provisional being formed of heterogeneous
elements, which for a moment are combined, exactly as the cells
which constitute a living body form by their reunion a new being
which displays characteristics very different from those possessed
by each of the cells singly.
Contrary to an opinion which
one is astonished to find coming from the pen of so acute a
philosopher as Herbert Spencer, in the aggregate which constitutes
a crowd there is in no sort a summing-up of or an average struck
between its elements. What really takes place is a combination
followed by the creation of new characteristics, just as in
chemistry certain elements, when brought into contact—bases and
acids, for example—combine to form a new body possessing properties
quite different from those of the bodies that have served to form
it.
It is easy to prove how much
the individual forming part of a crowd differs from the isolated
individual, but it is less easy to discover the causes of this
difference.
To obtain at any rate a
glimpse of them it is necessary in the first place to call to mind
the truth established by modern psychol [...]
