The Soul of Man Under Socialism

A satirical political essay, Oscar Wilde’s “The Soul of Man Under Socialism” was first published in 1891. It was reprinted five days after his trial for ”gross indecency”—i.e., sexual relations with another man—under the shortened name “The Soul of Man”; subsequent reprintings restored the original title. As a prominent artist, critic, and iconoclast known for satirical essays, Wilde took a unique ideological approach to the subject of socialism, framing it principally through the arts. The themes of this essay include The Danger of Authority, The Cultivation of Individualism, and the idea that Socialism Supports Aestheticism.

This study guide refers to the version found on Project Gutenberg, transcribed from the 1909 Arthur L. Humphreys edition by David Price, citing by page.

Content Warning: This guide references institutionalized anti-gay prejudice.

The essay opens with Wilde claiming that the establishment of socialism will mean that people will no longer be obliged to live for others. He lists some examples of people who have enriched the world through such independent living—Darwin, Keats, Renan, and Flaubert—but argues that most people fail to achieve greatness, in part because they exert energy trying to improve the condition of the poorest members of society. This charity is futile, as the current economic system makes poverty an inevitability. Charity, he argues, is also insulting to people in poverty, as their reliance on it makes them subject to external pressure and generally limits their freedom.

Wilde contends that individualism is the most important thing a person can strive for and that socialism can facilitate individualism. To do so, however, socialism must not be “authoritarian”—i.e., it must not compel people to labor in particular ways for the benefit of society. Bad as the current system is, Wilde argues, it at least allows people with financial means to lead independent and reflective lives. The danger of authoritarian socialism is that everyone would come to resemble the so-called “virtuous” poor—i.e., those who accept their lot because they are too degraded to know better.

Granting that what limited individualism currently exists depends on private property, Wilde considers how eliminating private property would solve the problem. Wilde argues that private property usually hinders the development of personality by causing people to obsess over what they have (or could have) rather than consider who they are; this is not true individualism. In support of this point, Wilde argues that many of the most powerful historical figures, including Julius Caesar and Marcus Aurelius, have been tragic figures; their position made constant claims on their time and energy, which they could have been directing towards realizing their passions . Even artists—the only people, in Wilde’s estimation, who have attained anything like real individualism—have been forced to waste much of their potential rebelling against authority.

Wilde turns to Christianity, arguing that it can aid the development of such individualism, though it is not necessary to it. Wilde notes Jesus’s frequent criticisms of private property and argues that his objections to it lay in the barrier it presented to developing one’s own potential. Furthermore, Wilde points out that Jesus rejected any claims that family had on him, just as socialism would dismantle institutions like marriage. These things, to Wilde, are simply demands placed on the individual that should be removed to realize a more perfect self.

Wilde transitions to a discussion of government, by which he primarily means governmental authority over individual citizens. Wilde argues that government in this sense is utterly incompatible with individualism, as all government ultimately enforces conformity; those subject to this authority may not even be aware that they’re suppressing their individuality when the government is less overtly despotic. The government’s ability to punish citizens is a means of such enforcement and must therefore be abandoned, not least because (Wilde argues) it actually creates crime. Wilde views most crimes as arising from (if not an outright rebellion against) an unjust system. In a socialist society, crime would be vanishingly rare, and Wilde argues that it ought to be considered an illness in need of compassion and treatment.

According to Wilde, the job of the state in such a society is simply to organize labor and distribute necessary resources, freeing citizens to pursue higher callings. However, since compulsory human labor is antithetical to this goal, Wilde argues that machines—once freed from the confines of private property, in which they merely exacerbate poverty by creating unemployment—can take over much manual labor that the poorer classes currently perform.

By contrast, creating beautiful things will be the provenance of the individual, who must be free to create only what pleases them. Making what others want, Wilde argues, is the opposite of art, and the absence of true individualism under the current system manifests in what Wilde considers the public’s bad taste; when people cannot be themselves, they cannot appreciate others’ efforts to do so. Wilde argues that public opinion uses methods such as a simplified view of the classics to control art; Shakespeare, for example, is weaponized to police new art despite few understanding what actually makes his art worthwhile. Wilde gives particular attention to criticisms that a work is “unintelligible” or “immoral,” arguing that these terms really mean “new” and “true,” respectively. Similarly, the popular use of the word “unhealthy” is misguided, according to Wilde: A “healthy” work of art is merely one that flows authentically from the personality of its creator, while an “unhealthy” one does not. Wilde argues that journalism has exacerbated the problem of bad art by catering to and thus perpetuating the public’s tastes; he notes that even outside the realm of art, the press seems to focus on the tawdry and banal—e.g., gossip about the private lives of the elite.

Wilde then gives examples of artists that he believes embody a “true” artistic spirit, arguing that Sir Henry Irving, an actor and owner of a theater, has somewhat elevated the public’s taste by pursuing his own ideas of art rather than catering to those of others. However, Wilde feels that the public still retains the desire to control art rather than to allow art to act upon them, and some artists—e.g., the novelist William Makepeace Thackeray—allow considerations of public taste to mar what would otherwise be exemplary works. In England, George Meredith comes closest to Wilde’s idea of what a novelist should be.

Reiterating that all authority is bad for art, Wilde identifies three forms of despotism: the government controlling the body, the Church controlling the spirit, and the people controlling both. Wilde rejects all three modes and turns his attention to the criticism that his ideas are impractical. He acknowledges this, saying that “practical” things are in accordance with the current societal structure, which is precisely what needs changing. However, he denies that such individualism goes against human nature, arguing that individualism is in fact human nature’s highest expression.

Wilde further distinguishes individualism from selfishness, arguing that true selfishness is imposing one’s ideas on others, while unselfishness is each person pursing the perfection of the self. If society were reorganized this way, he posits, people would sympathize not merely with other’s pain but also (and more importantly) with their joy. The reason Jesus focused on sympathy with suffering (and self-perfection through suffering), Wilde argues, is that he did not seek to overhaul temporal society. There is nothing wrong with this kind of sympathy, and pain can refine the individual. However, Wilde feels that with science and socialism, the world can now aim at a new and better kind of self-perfection: one that unfolds through peace and happiness. This individualism will be “life” itself, which people have sought across the ages.