THE END OF RACE MIGRATIONS.

[Yale Review, July, 1922.]

By Henry Pratt Fairchild.

President Harding's signature on May 19, 1921, of the 3 per cent immigration bill had a significance which possibly the President himself, and certainly the majority of his fellow countrymen, did not fully grasp. Although a temporary measure, passed partly in response to a post-war emergency, the new law, which restricts the annual immigration of persons of any nationality to 3 per cent of the number of that nationality resident in the United States in 1910. marks the inauguration of a new stage of human evolution. It is one of the first expressions of an era in which mass movements of population from nation to nation will not be permitted.

When Herbert Spencer in one of his improved passages asserted that "to be a good animal is the first requisite to success in life, and to be a nation of good animals is the first condition of national properity," he was warning us against the common danger of being so impressed by the distinctly human achievements of our species that we ignore our fundamental animal limitations-particularly in our social relationships-or imagine that they can be eliminated.

One of the outstanding features of all animal life is its immediate dependence on the land, in the broad sense. Every animal draws its sustenance directly or indirectly from the land, and each species of animals has a range of life and activity limited to those areas which afford its appropriate sustenance, and perished when removed. Since the food supplies which nature furnishes is strictly limited, it follows that the number of any species which can exist at any time is fixed definitely by the amount of appropriate food within its range at that time. Still further, as there has been no additions to the elemental qualities of the land since the foundation of the earth, it comes about that every species soon reaches its maximum, and from that time on remains stationary. Barring great natural changes which alter the terms of existence, or the interference of man, the "population" of every old species remains fixed from generation to generation-the death rate exactly equaling the birth rate.

To meet these rigorous terms of survival the animals incapable of giving protection or real nurture to their offspring depend upon almost incredible fecundity, amounting in some cases to many millions from each female annually, and leave the rest to chance. In such cases the "infant mortality "falls short of 100 per cent by an infinitesimal fraction, only one out of a million being able to survive. Such are the methods of "beneficent nature."

As we ascend in the scale of animal evolution we find that the developing instincts and intelligence of each successive species eventually make possible a period of real infancy, with genuine protection and nurture, and this in turn permits a corresponding reduction in the birth rate. This progression is one of the best tests of real evolutionary advancement.

The human species began its career with a range of existence, a rate of reproduction, and a period of infant care very similar to those of the ancestral apelike group from which it sprang. But like every new species, and just because it was a new species, it made slightly different demands upon its habitat, and had a slightly different equipment for gratifying these demands. from even its nearest kindred, which for a time permitted it to increase, until at last its numbers threatened to exceed the supporting power of its original range. It was then faced with the alternative of submitting to a fixed limit to its number or else of extending its territory. Any species so situated would naturally adopt the latter alternative if possible.

In seizing the possibility of increasing the numbers by extending its range the human species entered upon that great series of population movements which was eventually to establish it in every nook and cranny of the earth's surface which by any stretch of ingenuity could be made to support human life. Each new outpost, finding itself in a new environment, gradually worked out a new physical type suited to that environment-or, to speak more accurately, progressively worked out a new type while in process of moving from one environment to another-and at the same time evolved new arts of life, beliefs, customs, and social habits. Thus by a process of migration, adaption, isolation, and segregation were developed the great and primary races of man and the great original cultures.

The outstanding and characteristic feature of this first great phase of migration was that it was a movement into territory unoccupied by man. The bands of stragglers, pushed out from the ancestral range by the pressure of increasing population, did not encroach upon the territory of others of their kind. They met with no human opposition, and because it was a peaceful aggression upon the unoccupied land and the first epoch of migration benefited everybody concerned.

This primary phase of the movement in search of land lasted innumerable thousands of years, but eventually it came to an end, earlier in the older regions of human settlement, later in the remote, inaccessible, and unattractive areas of the globe. In time practically every available crevice of the earth's surface has its aboriginal human group, and there were no more uninhabited regions into which to shove the excess population. But the hunger for land did not in the least abate when this point was reached. In fact, it became if anything more acute. For by this time man had achieved certain degrees of civilization, with a variety of material needs and wants which could be satisfied only from the land. Thus each group, finding the demands for wealth of its augmenting numbers including beyond the power of gratification from its own possessions, was impelled to seek more land whenever it might be secured or, what was virtually equivalent, to appropriate the products of other land. But under conditions then prevailing the only way to get more territory was to take it from some other human group. Such an enterprise was naturally resented and opposed by the group threatened, and armed force became an essential of land acquisition.

Such. in outline, was the origin of the second great phase of population movements, and which covers almost the whole period of recorded history of the human race. Its dominating characteristic is the use of military force in the land quest. Its spectacular events are the great wars over land which blot the pages of history. Its activities are group activities; the conditions for the seeking of land by individuals did not exist. Consequently, its prerequsite is group sympathy, group consciousness, and group solidarity, for which the best single word is nationality. Nationality, as has been observed, was one of the products of the preceding era of population movements.

With the discovery of the American continents a new factor was introduced into the land problem of the aggressive nations, that is, the nations. of Western Europe. A seemingly unlimited and extraordinarily fertile area was brought within their ken, inhabited by natives of so low a degree of civilization that their resistance could be easily overcome, in fact would be little more than one of the incidents in conquering the wilderness. The tremendous significance of this event, and the other great discoveries that went with it, has been recognized by every historian or sociologist interested in anthropology or geography. In an entirely accurate sense it offered a brand-new chance to the human species. The land quest immediately took on a different aspect. The old, civilized and crowded nations of the world gained relief for a time from the intensity of their conquest over the regions previously known, and turned their rivalry into a struggle for the acquisition of the new territories. These were so enormous in extent that the antagonisms on this side of the Atlantic became very much diluted. In time the territory was divided among the offshoots, for the most part, became independent or virtually independent, nations. It is the attitude of these new nat ons toward migration that has created the third phase of the population movements, which has continued for about a century and a half, and is now drawing to a close.

The statement in an earlier paragraph that when the human species increases up to the limit of subsistence on its original range, it faces the possibility of being forced into a stationary population is probably not strictly true. One of the chief things that distinguish man from all other species of animal is his power to manipulate the forces of nature to suit his own ends. It may be, accordingly, that at no time was man ever faced with an absolutely fixed limit to increase, though for tens of thousands of years the maximum rate of increase possible in an occupied region must have been exceedingly small. Each improvement, however, in the arts of life, in material civilization, has made possible the support of a larger number of people on a given area. Consequently, the increase of the species up to the present time has rested on two grounds. The appropriation of new land, and the more different utilization of the tracts already occupied. Human history

is the record of a race between the tendency of the species to multiply and its ability to increase the supporting power of the land by invention, energy, industry, and thrift.

Up to 1492, on the whole, the arts of life had managed to keep far enough ahead to allow a slow increase, but never far enough ahead to prevent a constant and drastic restraint upon the natural impulse to multiply. Then, almost at a stroke, the balance was shifted. By the discovery of America, Australia, and South Africa the peoples of Europe, sufficiently skilled in the arts of civilization to be able to maintain relatively dense populations with a high degree of comfort, were presented with vast areas inhabited by peoples so low in the scale of culture as to be able to support only a very sparse population. It has been estimated by a competent authority that the total number of Indians north of Mexico at the time of the coming of the white man was not much over half a million.

The two chief differentiating features of the modern era are that movements of population have been peaceful movements into occupied land, and that they have been individualized. The reasons are not far to seek. Modern immigration is peaceful because the receiving countries are glad to admit the immigrant, or at worst were indifferent to his coming, for the simple reason that his coming constituted a benefit, or at least not a menace.

Thus in America, from the time of the earliest settlements, there was a strong sentiment for increase of population, not only by natural reproduction but by accessions from abroad. This refers, obviously to the European settlers themselves-the Indians naturally felt differently, and there was a transitional period during which they had to be disposed of. Its activities, of course, corresponded to the type of the preceding period in so far as actual force was required. But this time quickly passed, and there emerged, on both the American continents, in Australia, and eventually in South Africa, independent, or virtually independent States, which had sufficient self-consciousness to frame their own policies and laws about migration, and sufficient standing among the nations to enforce these policies.

The startling thing about the migration policies of these new countries is that at the beginning they were all based on a warm welcome to all well intentioned persons who wished to come. Such a thing had never been known before. The only requirement was that the immigrants should come as individuals, on their initiative, not as the outposts of any foreign state with official backing. The essence of the Monroe doctrine is the general statement that colonization-that is, settlement by authority-would henceforth not be tolerated in the Western Hemisphere. Hence modern migration is a movement of individuals.

For reasons which need not be detailed, the United States has always stood in the van and in the limelight in the matter of immigration affairs. She has attracted many times more immigrants than any other country, she has experienced more profound social effects from immigration than any other country, and she has led the way in the control of immigration. With a rather remarkable exactness Canada, Brazil, Australia, and Argentina are following the same path in immigration-socially, economically, and legislatively-as the United States, a generation or two in the rear.

The question of immediate moment is whether this modern era of permitted, peaceful, individualized aggression upon land of new countries situated in the temperate zones is likely to be prolonged into the remote future, or whether through the action of unescapable forces it is nearing its close. The indications are that it is in fact already closing. There are no more new lands to be discovered by civilized people. No new nations will ever again find homes in the wilderness in temperate zones. Thus it is incontestable that the present era will not be prolonged by a repetition of the occurrences which gave it birth. If it is to be prolonged at all, it must be because the factors upon which its distinctive characteristics rest become relatively permanent-in other words, that the more favorably situated nations of the world will find it advisable to continue to permit peacable, individualized migration. Is this probable?

The answer is to be found in the present social condition in the immigrantreceiving countries. These countries have in the past welcomed foreign accessions because they needed them in their business, literally. Their popu lations have not been large enough to enable them immediately to achieve their maximum standard of living, and they have not been willing to wait

for the slower processes of natural reproduction. The tradition of welcome has therefore rested upon facts. As soon as the facts alter, the basis of tradi tion will be removed, and in time the tradition itself will fall. Just as fast as the governing elements in nations become convinced that immigrants are no longer an advantage, but rather a menace, policies will change.

In the United States the tradition of the open door and the haven of refuge has been strong. It took a full century of independent life to bring this Nation to the point where it was ready to establish any requirements even as to the physical and moral fitness of foreigners who were to be admitted. The first steps in this direction were mild and hesitating, barring out only such manifestly undesirable elements as paupers, criminals, prostitutes, and persons suffering from contagious diseases. All subsequent legislation until five years ago was along the same line, building up a system of selective tests designed to secure a good quality of immigrants. There was no attempt in any law to limit the number of aliens admitted.

But we have at last come to the parting of the ways. The thinking people of the country have largely become convinced that in the future unrestricted immigration will be increasingly prejudicial to the best interests of the country. They are accordingly demanding its determination. The sentiment of Congress has been definitely restrictive for the last quarter of a century, particularly since the unequivocal conclusion arrived at by the authoritative Immigration Commission. The first legislative evidence of the new situation was the passage of the much-debated literacy test in 1917, which, while following precedent in its selective form, is, nevertheless, definitely restrictive in effect, and was supported primarily for that reason by many of the influential backers. The present temporary percentage restriction bill is the first directly restrictive measure which has ever been written upon our statute books. (The Chinese exclusion acts, it may be said, in passing, are in theory selective, not restrictive, in that they are concerned with the kind of immigrant not with numbers.) This is the first paragraph in a new chapter of immigration regulation, and herein lies its extradordinary significance.

There remains just one serious obstacle to be answered, when once the thinking people of a nation become convinced that immigration is no longer consistent with national prosperity-the ethics of the case, the right to emigrate, which includes the right to demand admission, and the right to restrict or exclude.

The tradition of emigration as a relief from pressure is of enormous weight. For so many tens of thousands of years movement has been the accepted means of escape from starvation or destitution that the idea of migration has become thoroughly ingrained in human nature. In the beginning the impulse was instinctive, and it is semi-instinctive still. There are certain elements in foreign countries that deny the right of the United States to close its doors, and there are some within our own borders that are inclined to concede the position. Other people, while they do not go so far as to grant the right of outsiders to demand admission, nevertheless question the moral justification of our denying admission.

It must be borne in mind that the chief universal reason why foreign people wish to emigrate to the United States (which for purposes of brevity may be taken as the type of all immigrant-receiving countries) is that our land situation is superior to theirs. Whether it be an ambition of an individual, or the policy of a State, the demand for admission of foreign nationals is based upon the desire that they and their country may get their share of our advantages. And the essence of our advantage is that we are less crowded in proportion to our natural resources and degree of civilization than they. They wish to be allowed to continue their peaceful aggression into our land. The basic reason for the desire to emigrate is-as it always has been-enlarged and enlarging production. Now, the fundamental source of enlarging population is the birth rate. The larger the birth rate, other things being equal, the stronger the motive to emigrate. But in every old country where there exists a high birth rate there exists also a high death rate, with all the misery and degradation which always attend that combination. This misery is the immediate source of the impulse to migrate. The countries whose nationals desire admission to our advantages are those with a standard of living lower than ours by varying degrees, and the greater the gulf between our standard and theirs the more insistent is the craving for admission.

At first glance there seems to be an excellent ground for those who take the position that it is wrong for us to refuse to share our good things with

unfortunate individuals of other lands. But when one fully grasps the magnitude of the forces involved, the problem takes on a different aspect. Increasing population is not confined to a few nations-it is a world phenomenon. The increase during the nineteenth century was unprecedented. A careful estimate places the total population of the world in 1800 at about 640,000,000 to 700,000,000. In 1914 it was 1,649,000,000. In 114 years a much greater increase in population has been produced than in all the preceding tens of thousands of years. The question naturally arises, if this could happen in the nineteenth century, why not in the twentieth century, and in the next, and the next? Whq worry about overpopulation at all?

There is something in our mentality that makes us reluctant to admit great finalities in human affairs. It is hard for us to realize that what has happened in the past need not necessarily happen again, and that some things in human evolution are finished once and for all. There is no more pernicious proverb than "history repeats itself." That is the one thing that history never does.

A little figuring will convince any questioner that in this particular, at least, history will not repeat itself. During the years 1906-1911 the population of the world increased at the rate of doubling every 60.1 years. If this rate were to continue, at the end of 10,000 years the population of the world would be 22,184 with 46 naughts following. This would seem in terms of standing room, allowing one and a half square feet per person, that the population would be 60,570 with 30 naughts following, greater than the available standing room on the earth's surface.

The United States can not undertake to care for such an increase of population as that for even a few decades, and there is no possibility that any other method of providing for it can be devised. The phenomenal increase of population during the nineteenth century is accounted for directly by the great discoveries and the industrial and commercial revolutions which followed them, and "it never can happen again."

We think of our country as relatively thinly populated, and of China as an extreme example of overpopulation. "Teeming millions" is the stereotyped phrase with which we describe her people. Yet if the population of the United States (not including Alaska and Hawaii) should continue to increase at the rate which prevailed during the representative period from 1905 to 1911. before the end of this century-which some of our children will live to seewe should have a population about one-third larger, on a land area about one-fourth smaller than that of China. By the end of the next century we should have a population much larger than the entire human species to-day. It therefore behooves us to recognize and face our own problems in this field before undertaking to solve those of foreign nations.

The simple fact is that the population problem of the world is so vast that no nation or group of nations, however, idealistic, altruistic, and prosperous, should attempt to solve it by means of migration, and no case can be made out for the obligation to do so. Particular weight is added to this assertion by two general laws of social science. The first of these laws is that no emigration stream of a sort which could conceivably be realized has any effect in reducing the population of an old and thickly settled country, but must in fact tend to increase it. We could draw off 1,000,000 Chinese a year for 50 years and at the end of that period China would have just as large a population as if not a soul had migrated.

This seeming paradox is one of the best established truths of sociology. observed by Sir Walter Raleigh in England and Giovanni Botera in Italy, and attested by a long list of scientists from their day to the present. The attempt to correct overpopulation by immigration under modern conditions is like trying to lower the level of the sea by pouring the water by pailfuls into the sand of the shore. The second law is that whenever a competition of standards of living is set up, as it is by immigration, the invariably tendency is for the lower standard to win out. There is the sort of Gresham's law at work in social affairs just as truly as in monetary affairs. The fate of any country which tries to solve the population problems of foreign countries by permitting immigration will be to see its own standard of living reduced approximately to the level of that country from which the most destitute immigrants come without producing any appreciable betterment in the foreign countries themselves.

The control of population will certainly be one of the greatest questions of the next few generations. It is possible that man may be always able to