One and Wonder Read Online Free Page A

expect we'll find the ultimate result of what the old economists used to call the division of labor.”
    At the time, I failed to see the real significance of the interchange that followed, though it proved the key to much that happened later. I was merely annoyed at Cameron, and increasingly alarmed, because his talk plainly angered Lord.
    “Explain!” Lord rapped.
    “If you like—though I'm afraid the historical principle runs counter to Squaredeal ideology.” Cameron was a little too grave. “Because I don't believe the Directorate was created by Tyler's unique statesmanship, or even by the emergent dictatorship of the common man. It was, I think, just one of the end-products of the division of labor.”
    Lord blinked his beady eyes, apparently uncertain whether this was double-talk or high treason. I kicked Cameron's foot, vainly trying to keep him quiet.
    “Explain yourself,” Lord commanded.
    “Nothing to it,” Cameron said. “The division of labor was hailed as something wonderful—before its unpleasant final consequences came to light. One man made arrows, another hunted, and they both had more to eat. That was very fine, back in the stone age.”
    Cameron stretched out his legs, cheerful and relaxed.
    “But it went a little farther, in the modern world. Division of labor divided mankind, setting special interest against the common good. It made specialists in mining coal, in scientific research—even in political power, Mr. Lord. The specialists formed pressure groups, each fighting to advance its own class interest—with weapons incidentally created by that same division of labor.
    “When specialists fight, the winners are apt to be the experts in war,” Cameron continued innocently. “Thus government becomes a function of military technology, which of course derives from the basic industrial technology. The prevailing form of government, therefore—dictatorship ordemocracy—depends on the current status of the division of labor. That interesting relation of technology and politics was pointed out by the old philosopher, Silas McKinley.”
    Lord’s sleepy eyes glittered suspiciously.
    “He's forbidden! Where do you keep such pernicious literature?”
    Cameron grinned. “Once I had permission to do some research in Mr. Hudd's very excellent library.”
    “You're apt to suffer for the dangerous ideas you acquired there,” Lord commented acidly. “Now what's this nonsense, about technology and government?”
    “Political power reflects military power,” Cameron cheerfully explained. “When war is fought with cheap, simple weapons, easy for the amateur to use, then the military importance of the ordinary citizen is reflected in his political freedom. Democracy in America was established by the flintlock and maintained by Colt's revolver.
    “But democracy is always threatened by an increase in specialization, especially military specialization. When weapons are expensive and complicated, requiring a class of military experts, then the ordinary man can't defend his rights—and he therefore has no rights.
    “Democracy was murdered, on a desert in New Mexico, in 1945. Already, for a hundred years, the increasing division of labor had been forcing it into slow decline. The same specialization that created the bomber and the tank had already reduced the free citizen to a pathetic little man at the mercy of the corporation manager, the union leader, and the party bureaucrat.
    “The atom bomb was the end of freedom. Because it was the final limit of specialization. The most complicated and costly weapon ever, its production required a fantastically complex division of labor. Government followed the trend of technology, and totalitarian control destroyed the individual.” Sitting half upright in the long reclining chair, Cameron gave the little Squaredealer his wry, sardonic grin.
    “Tyler thought he had conquered the world,” he concluded. “But really it was just division of labor that