THE SELFISHNESS
OF THE PEOPLE
By Joe Cone
If we were to call the average man
selfish he would look at us first with surprise, then with disdainful pity and
would finally burst into charitable laughter. If he were without a grouch he
would be amused at our mistake and say that selfishness was the thing farthest from
his nature. He would say, “Why, man, dear, I keep my family well, contribute to
local charities, turn my wages in every week, pay my bills and haven’t an enemy
in the world.” All of which is very good and very creditable. The average man
would say that, and the average man does that, too. A great many men go even
further than that. They would share their last dollar with a friend in need.
They would sooner go without eating than turn a hungry man from their doors.
They would sacrifice anything for the comfort of their families. They would
shield their stock or their pets from all harm and miss a morning train to
carry a wounded bird out of harm’s way.
Individually, and amongst friends and
neighbors, the average man is not selfish; collectively and amongst strangers
he is selfish in the degree of amazement. One has only to witness the embarking
on a crowded excursion train or steamer to verify this. When the moment
approaches for the opening of the theatre doors that lead to the rush seat
section what does the average man do? He approaches very closely the circus
lion that has waited unduly for his piece of red meat. He pushes, squeezes,
uses violence, in a word, fights for the best seat available. Here the
individuality is swamped, and the average man becomes the people – and the
people are selfish to the degree of amazement.
Anyone familiar with suburban street car
conditions are acquainted with that element of the people known as the
end-seat-man. They have fallen over his feet and squeezed past him many, many
times, frequently receiving from him a rebuke for being so clumsy and careless.
He secured the end seat upon boarding the car. He paid his fare and he is
entitled to his seat. And though a half-dozen persons are obliged to crowd past
him in order to obtain a seat he will not move; he’s going to keep what belongs
to him. Now, one might say, “He’s a selfish individual; he isn’t the people.”
In a measure, true. But he is out amongst the people. He is away from home and
has become imbued with the selfishness of the people. Were you to call upon
this same man in the evening at his home and found him sitting on his piazza
the first thing he would do would be to offer you his chair. More than that, he
would offer you a cigar and probably a little later on bring you out some cold
drinks. He would be the exemplification of politeness and unselfishness. Were
his neighbor’s house to catch afire he would dress and run to the burning
building, do deeds of heroism and sacrifice and stay all night if need be to
assist in whatever way he could. This is the average man at home, but he is the
people on the excursion train, in the rush line or in the end seat.
Behold the line when there is a run on
the bank. Why does each individual wish to be first? So as to get what belongs
to him. Quite right. But they are all patrons of the same institution and have
all profited pro rata before the scare came. As a matter of fact they are all
in business together. But do they remain calm and say, “well, we’ll all share
alike in this deal,” as they would do in a strictly family or neighborhood
difficulty? No; they fight for the first position at the window in order to get
theirs and let the rest go hang. They are the people then. The individuality
has been left at home, and the people are selfish to the degree of amazement.
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