7 FEBRUARY 1970, Page 10

PERSONAL COLUMN

Pride of place

SIMON RAVEN

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe..:: Well, not quite. In fact she lived in a small and cosy flat. So far from having too many children, she had none at all, as they had long since grown up and gone their way. And she certainly knew what to do: which was to keep herself and her flat in good order and to cultivate her indepen- dence, occupations that exercised to a nicety her remaining faculties of body and mind, and so did mush to preserve them. Although she was sometimes lonely, she kept going very well; she took great pride in admini- stering her own tiny domain, and while she knew that she was not of much use to any- one, she also knew that she wasn't a nuis- ance to anyone either.

And then one day some well-meaning friends started to nag at her family. It was not right, said the well-meaning friends, that poor old Edith should be left to fend for herself any longer; it was causing com- ment. So poor old Edith, much against her will and better judgment, was persuaded to make a new home with one of her mar- ried daughters, who was both rich and kind, as the world goes, and had plenty of room. But there was one sad misunderstanding. Edith thought she had come to live near her daughter .. . well . . . just in case; the daughter thought that her mother had come to be taken care of. So Edith was taken care of;, she wasn't allowed to do anything for herself, her whole life was arranged for her . .. and within a few months her mind had gone completely. Her pampered body soon followed. She did not actually die, indeed she was so well taken care of that she survived, in the sense that she went on breathing, far longer than she would other- wise have done; but for any purpose worth the name she was stone dead, killed by kindness.

The point of this story (and of many similar which I have had from my acquaint- ance over the years) is that the surest way to destroy a human being is to take away his function in life. We hear a very great deal about human dignity these days, almost all of which seems to turn on the assumption that human dignity is to be equated with material ease. Well. it isn't: human dignity is having something to do and knowing how to do it, even if this is nothing more than running one's own home. Human dignity is to count as some-

body who is needed, if only by oneself; it

is to have one's place and fill it. to do work that keeps one occupied and therefore sane, and to be dependent, as far as possible, only on one's own efforts and resource.

This does not mean, of course, that no old lady must ever go to live with her family, for there may be excellent reasons, financial or medical, why she should. What it does mean is that when she arrives she should find herself something to do which relates her to the household and secures her a dignified place within it. Continental families seem to understand this much better than we do. All over Europe are the old widows in black, who have either returned to the family home or never left it. bent and wizened and lined and crippled, but going about their business with purpose and with pride. Their faces, when you look at them, are alive; not always very happy, far from it, but conscious of something just finished and something else now to be done, the cows to be got in, the accounts to be cast, a grown son to be rebuked for resorting to the village slut, a sale to be haggled over or a meal to be cooked. Dis- graceful exploitation, snort the welfare- mongers; why aren't they having a decent and restful old age, if not at home then provided for by the state? The answer is that these old ladies, so far from being ex- ploited, are held in honour among their people; and that on the day they first sit down to do nothing . . . to enjoy 'a decent and restful old age' . . they know they will start to die.

Or consider the similar lesson to be learned from a custom practised in Spain. This, as we all know, is a nasty fascist country where compassion is quite unheard of. So what do they do with their 'handi- capped' people . . . the halt, the maimed and the blind? Yes, you've guessed it. they exploit them: they send them out on the street to sell lottery tickets. How repulsive.

howls the liberal do-gooder from swl Well, yes: except that they are usefully and gain- fully occupied, are a respected and familiar part of the scene, are treated to gossip by every client who passes and are then en- treated to part with it by his every succes- sor. in short spend days full of interest in the onen air without being either pitied or condescended to. and go home at night,

doubtless to beds distressful enourth, but knowing that they have a definite »lace in the world's affairs and that it will be wait- int, for them tomorrow.

No need, I think, to labour the theme:

a man (or woman) requires to have his function and. within this function at least.

to be self-sufficient; it gives him assured standing in his own eyes and in the eves of others: it enjoins activity and therefore pre- vents boredom; in a word, it makes him his own man.

Now. I have spoken so far only of the old or the disabled. Of them T have said that the more they are meaningfully occupied the more contented and dignified they will be; and T have sugeested that the withdrawal of occupation hastens bodily and mental decay. This will be news to nobody; but it is a point that needs making in an age and a country in which all the

emphasis is on what should be done for the old et al. and none at all on what they

could and should do for themselves. Very well then. If, as we have seen, it is essential, or at any rate vastly preferable, that the old should have their own function, how much more true this must be of the young and able-bodied. Another commonplace, you will say; why bother to bring it up? For this very good reason, my friend: that, commonplace or not, it is rapidly being forgotten.

Let us leave all the jargon aside. Let us say nothing of all the rubbish that is talked about 'rights' (i.e. that which must be re- ceived) and all the vulgar scorn which is poured on the bare notion of 'obligation' (i.e. that which must be rendered). Let us simply consider two plain and calamitous facts.

The first is this. Although we now exist in conditions which ensure that most people will live much longer than formerly and will retain their health and capacities to a far greater age, we are nevertheless still insisting that people should retire from work, from their proper function, as earl\ as ever, if not earlier. This is said to be a good thing for two reasons: because in this way room is made for rising men; and because those retiring can then devote their unimpaired vigour to 'leisure pursuits'.

But I should argue the matter as follows. It is cruel, I should say, to take a man from the work which fills his days (and makes him, if anything does, a significant human being) at a time when he still has the power and the will to do it. Nor is it any good prattling about 'leisure interests': the num- ber of people, no matter how rich, hov, intelligent and how well educated, who can endure unbroken leisure without sheer misery, is very small indeed. Enforced leisure, to a man who still enjoys good health and competence in his own field, must make, at the very least, for savage discontent. For a few days he may welcome the relief; but then he will cry out that 'Othello's occupation's gone', and with it his honour and his place.

And as for the contention that room must be made for other men, I should simply answer that, since they too will live longer and stay fitter, they can well afford to wait. But, you may say, the new men have fresher ideas. All the more reason. I reply, for keeping them down awhile: the world is surfeited with fresh ideas; what it needs now is stability.

The second 'calamitous fact', which I would propose to you in this context, is that 'automation' and 'computerisation' nos threaten to render many men jobless from a very early age indeed. In which case. it will no longer, be a question of unwilling retirement at sixty; it will be a prospect for great masses of people, of never being needed at all. Faced with this problem (still, mercifully, at some distance) we are accustomed to say, `Ah, but technology will have made us so rich that we shall he able to pay them very generously for doing nothing.' Perhaps; but where then will he their function and their pride? In enjoying their 'leisure'? But we have already posited that prolonged leisure does little good even to the rich and the cultivated; how is it to suit millions of middling men, whose intel- lectual interests will be limited or non- existent?

When old people have no function. when they cease (like the lady with whom I began this essay) to be their own man or woman. they turn their faces to the wall and die, if the doctors allow them to, and it is well that they should. But what happens to a whole generation of young people who have no function . . . and hence no self-respect. no purpose and no place? Do they all turn their faces to the wall and die? It will he disagreeable but instructive to find out.