THE SCIENCE OF MAKING ENEMIES
To the Editor of The Idler.
Dear Sir: As I am about to open a school of an unusual nature, I have determined not only to secure for the same as much publicity as possible, but also to explain to the public the nature of the instruction which will be furnished in my new academy. My course of study is, I think, unique; and I fear that without explanation it would probably prove quite incomprehensible to the public at large and to those who may chance to hear of the school through friends or to read my advertisements in the press.
In this connection, it seems to me not out of place to acquaint you, in some sort, with the reasons which led me to settle upon the plan of my proposed course of instruction, and this I shall accordingly do to the best of my ability.
I entered at an early age upon my presentprofession, which is, as you may have surmised, that of an educator. I became, in turn, an instructor, a tutor and a professor of sociology. I have ever been of an independent character of mind, and in the course of my work I have been prone to draw my own conclusions without, I confess, much consideration of, or regard for, the opinions of others who assume, or have assumed, to be authorities upon the subject. Society, I believe, is a subject which must be studied at first hand. Text-books and treatises may be well enough as stimulants to study, but the real essential is a knowledge of people. I, therefore, devoted myself to the study of mankind, and I studied the students of my classes with more enthusiasm and with more application, I dare say, than my students studied their text-books. But I did not stop with the study of others, I also studied myself. I studied myself as an isolated individual, and I studied myself in relation to others, and it was as a result of this study that I finally made a most disconcerting discovery—a discovery which was not made until I hadentered upon my professorship, and which shocked me inexpressibly and bade fair, for a time, to put an end to my career as a teacher.
Though at first it was only a suspicion, it soon became a conviction. I discovered that I wasunpopular. Not unpopular with a few only, for all of us are that, but generally and hopelessly unpopular; a man without any friends and with a great many enemies. I do not now recall what first called my attention to this matter, but I do remember that I gave it a great deal of thought and attention and I studied the case in the same impartial manner that I would study any other case of social phenomena. I took careful note of the demeanor and behavior of my students and my fellow members of the faculty, and I soon settled beyond any reasonable doubt all question as to my popularity. I had never established myself upon a footing of familiarity or friendship with my students and I now came to see the reason why this was so. My students did not like me and they would have nothing more to do with me than was absolutely necessary.It was the same with the members of the faculty. I was retained in my position because I was an able instructor and an indefatigable worker. There was no sort of favoritism in my case and I knew that my colleagues as well as my students would have been glad to see me guilty of some blunder which would justify my removal.
As you may suppose, this was not only a hard blow to my vanity, but a very painful thing to think upon. Like most men, I had always assumed that people were glad to know me and to have me about, and it distressed me exceedingly to learn that this assumption was without foundation or justification. It is one of the enigmas of human nature—this conviction of personal popularity. No man can conceive of himself as a pariah, nor even as a very unpopular person, until he actually finds himself in that situation. Even the greatest bores seldom realize that theyarebores. But most bores are not sociologists.
Now, when I had become fully convinced that my unpopularity was a fact and not a figmentof my imagination, I began to turn the matter over in my mind and to direct my attention to the study of popularity and unpopularity both as to cause and effect. My study led me to several discoveries. The first was this: that some people are born with the attribute of popularity and possess the faculty of making friends without any conscious effort on their part, while others have a trick of making enemies without actually being guilty of any offense. This is not what is called positive and negative “magnetism,” but it is something like that. When a man possesses this faculty for making friends he will make them whether or no, even though he be lacking in all the qualities which men find admirable. He may be selfish, cold, over-ambitious and ruthless of the rights of others, and yet exercise a fascination upon other men. Such a man was Napoleon Bonaparte, who called forth the greatest personal devotion and enthusiasm in the men whom he destroyed for his own ends. Contrariwise, a man may be noble, generous, affableand everything that a popular man should be, and yet be practically without friends.
But I made another and greater discovery which reconciled me to my unpopularity and which, indeed, completely revolutionized my views upon the subject—I discovered that the greatest men in the world have been the ones who had the most enemies!
And it was upon making this discovery, Sir—the most important, in my opinion, that has been made by any sociologist of our time—that I determined to set up my school for the exposition of the science of making enemies. All men, said I to myself, are naturally ambitious; they desire fame, honor and riches. They have but to be shown the way and they will enter eagerly upon it.
Elated as I was at my great discovery, I could not but wonder that men had not discovered this secret long ago. How could such men as Spencer, Lecky, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche and the others have overlooked a thing sosimpleand so obviously true?
Here, I rejoiced, I have a discovery—not a theory, not an hypothesis—but a fact! A fact which may be tested and proven in any field of human activity—in government, in commerce, in religion, in literature, in art—in everything! No religion can live without first enduring persecution; no government can survive without the patriotism bred of the fear of enemies and the hatred of foes; no general can become great without war; no author becomes a classic without criticism; no prophet can conquer without opposition. Nothing great can be done without enemies.
For generations, for ages, men have been proceeding upon an entirely erroneous theory that friends are more necessary to success than enemies. Such stupidity! Such utter disregard of the evidence to the contrary which confronts us upon every hand! Our park benches are lined with men who had too many friends, our charitable institutions are overflowing with them. Think of the most popular man you know and then of the most successful! Are they the same? Of course not. Once you stopto think of it, the truth of my discovery is self-evident. No matter where you go you will find that the greatest man is the one who has the most enemies.
Friends are not only not necessary to a man’s success, but they are often a positive detriment. A man surrounded by friends is like a man blindfolded—he can not see where he is going. How do you improve? By correcting your faults. And who points out your faults, your friends or your enemies? An enemy is a spur. An enemy is an inspiration. Your friends sympathize with you, commiserate with you, agree with you and flatter you; but your enemiesadvertise you.
Whistler once wrote a book calledThe Gentle Art of Making Enemies, and I suspect that Whistler had caught an inkling of the truth of my great discovery, but his title was a misnomer. The making of enemies is not an art, but a science. Some people have a special gift for it, as I have, but almost any one can learn how. By observing a few simple rules in this connection, any man should be able to acquireall the enemies he may desire. But any man may save himself a great deal of time and trouble by taking my course of instruction. When he receives his diploma from the Sourface Training School he will be so well versed in this science that he will thereafter follow the principles of the school without any thought whatever, but purely from force of habit.
Judging from the number of people I see about me who are trying in an amateurish way to acquire enemies, the academy should have a large attendance from the start, and since I have never met a more unpopular man than myself, I know of no one more eminently qualified to conduct such a school. I can not afford to make public my method of instruction because such an action would open the field to a host of imitators, but I can assure you that the course is most effective.
There is only one doubt in my mind about the success of the school, and that is this: I fear that when the public realizes the tremendous import of my discovery and appreciates the great work which I am doing for humanity,I shall become so popular that I will be in great danger of losing the success which I have labored so hard to attain and which I so richly deserve.
Truly yours,Samuel Sourface,
Headmaster, Sourface Training School.Cranktown, New Jersey.