On Generalisations

Dominion, Volume 21, Issue 291, 8 September 1928, Page 17

On Generalisations

A Whimsical Disquisition on a Prevalent Vice

(By “Y.Y.” in the “ New Statesman ”)

There are few things that make one feel so humble, when one is in one of one’s humble moods, as the generalisations of other people. Generalisations, so long as we do not question them, have a most impressive air of wisdom. A man has but to say a sufficient number of things about human beings in general, or about women in general, or about Englishmen in general, or about Americans in general, in order to establish himself as a considerable com mentator on life. We have an extraordinary capacity for believing general, remarks. They are so much ready-made wisdom and save us the trouble of thinking for ourselves. They provide us with spectacles which enable us, we believe, to see life more clearly. Thus, when we go to France, we do not see Frenchmen with our own unaided eyes, but through the spectacles provided for us by generations of generalisers. There are, of course, frequently, two opposite generalisations in vogue about the same, people. There is a generalisation which asserts that the French are,the politest people in Europe;, there is another generalisation which asserts, that they are the impolitest. You can go to France with either generalisation and come back with plenty of evidence that it is true. Similarly, you can go to Ireland with the generalisation that represents the Irish as a nation of humorists, or with the opposite generalisation that makes them out to be a people almost devoid of a sense of humour, and in neither case will you return disillusioned. If you ignore a number of facts, there are usually enough facts left to prove almost any generalisation. In the circumstances it is no * wonder that most human beings cling to generalisations and see life almost entirely in terms of them. I myself was brought up to believe a certain generalisation about Catholics: it was not a flattering generalisation, and, if I met a Catholic who did not seem to fit into it, I thought, not that the generalisation was at fault, but that the Catholic was an exceptional kind of Catholic. Similarly, in a Puritan community, one grows up with-the belief in generalisations about men who drink and about gamblers, as though One man who drinks were like another man who drinks and every gambler were like every other gambler. There was a time at which, if I were told that a man was a gambler, I regarded him with awe. I felt the same kind of awe on seeing a freethinker pass in the street. As one grows, older, one discovers that there arc all kinds'of freethinkers—freethinkers who are as unchristian asthe most unchristian Christian, and freethinkers who are as Christian as the most Christian Christian. Gamblers, one also finds, are Of an astonish-ing-variety: the mean, the dishonest, the neurotic, the light-hearted, and tlm generous. .Still, wc are probably the slaves of generalisations to-day to as great an extent as men have ever been. We still continue to make generalisations about that infinitely varied half of the human race known as womeh.

It is,. of course, impossible to think without making use of generalisations. Even a false generalisation—such as, say, that all men wish to murder their fathers —is a starting-point for thought. Hence, we can scarcely observe two or-three facts without attempting to cbok them into a generalisation, and wc have an insatiable appetite for the generalisations of writers, speakers, and our friends. How enviable the man seems who, returning from a week’s visit to Czech.Q-Slo.vakia, ■ can sum up the men. the women, the food, and the peasants of the country, each in a general remark! I know a man who can do the same kind of thing for every county of England. He has visited all the counties, and he can tell you what a generalised inhabitant of Huntingdonshire is like, and can differentiate between a generalised Sussex man and a generalised Kent man. Not only this, but lie can take any part of any county, and tell you how the people inhabiting it differ in stature, in colour of eyes and hair, and in manners from the people of various other parts. He can tell you how the people of Brighton differ from the people of Hove, and how the population of Hastings differs from the population of St. Leonards. Mention a village in the south of Devonshire, and he will say: “Yes, I was there last summer. A very interesting people, dolichocephalic, with dark hair and blue eyes. There’s a strong Celtic infusion in the population that makes the people dreamy and melancholy.” I confess I have not the kind of observation that notices such things, and I am all the more. filled with Wonder at the genius of the people who do notice them. If Igoto a strange town, lam more likely to notice the differences between one inhabitant and another than the points of resemblance. I have never seen a typical Dorsetshire man or a typical Devonshire man in my life, much, less a typical Bridport man or a typical Newton Abbot man. Yet I suppose the type must be there to be observed as well as the individual. There is certainly a more or less typical accent in every county; why not typical manners, typical shape of head, typical eyes and hair? But, outside Cornwall, I scarcely notice such differences, and I doubt if, were it not for their : accents, I could tell the difference between a Yorkshircman and a Wiltshire mfin. And even then I should probably think that the Wiltshireman came from Dorsetshire. I have seen typical Chinamen, but never a typical Englishman. I have a clear enough vision of what a typical Japanese is like, but no notion at all of. what a typical Irishman is like. I can generalise about the inhabitants of America more easily than about the inhabitants of Sussex because 1 know a great deal less about America. Happy is the man who can generalise about things he knows something about! I cau gcueralisc easily only, about the things I know nothing about.