Section 8
As the Brissago council came to realise
that what it had supposed to be temporary camps of
refugees were rapidly developing into great towns of
a new type, and that it was remoulding the world in
spite of itself, it decided to place this work of
redistributing the non-agricultural population in
the hands of a compactor and better qualified special
committee. That committee is now, far more than
the council of any other of its delegated committees,
the active government of the world. Developed
from an almost invisible germ of ‘town-planning’
that came obscurely into existence in Europe or America
(the question is still in dispute) somewhere in the
closing decades of the nineteenth century, its work,
the continual active planning and replanning of the
world as a place of human habitation, is now so to
speak the collective material activity of the race.
The spontaneous, disorderly spreadings and recessions
of populations, as aimless and mechanical as the trickling
of spilt water, which was the substance of history
for endless years, giving rise here to congestions,
here to chronic devastating wars, and everywhere to
a discomfort and disorderliness that was at its best
only picturesque, is at an end. Men spread now,
with the whole power of the race to aid them, into
every available region of the earth. Their cities
are no longer tethered to running water and the proximity
of cultivation, their plans are no longer affected
by strategic considerations or thoughts of social
insecurity. The aeroplane and the nearly costless
mobile car have abolished trade routes; a common language
and a universal law have abolished a thousand restraining
inconveniences, and so an astonishing dispersal of
habitations has begun. One may live anywhere.
And so it is that our cities now are true social gatherings,
each with a character of its own and distinctive interests
of its own, and most of them with a common occupation.
They lie out in the former deserts, these long wasted
sun-baths of the race, they tower amidst eternal snows,
they hide in remote islands, and bask on broad lagoons.
For a time the whole tendency of mankind was to desert
the river valleys in which the race had been cradled
for half a million years, but now that the War against
Flies has been waged so successfully that this pestilential
branch of life is nearly extinct, they are returning
thither with a renewed appetite for gardens laced by
watercourses, for pleasant living amidst islands and
houseboats and bridges, and for nocturnal lanterns
reflected by the sea.
Man who is ceasing to be an agricultural
animal becomes more and more a builder, a traveller,
and a maker. How much he ceases to be a cultivator
of the soil the returns of the Redistribution Committee
showed. Every year the work of our scientific
laboratories increases the productivity and simplifies
the labour of those who work upon the soil, and the
food now of the whole world is produced by less than
one per cent. of its population, a percentage which
still tends to decrease. Far fewer people are
needed upon the land than training and proclivity dispose
towards it, and as a consequence of this excess of
human attention, the garden side of life, the creation
of groves and lawns and vast regions of beautiful
flowers, has expanded enormously and continues to expand.
For, as agricultural method intensifies and the quota
is raised, one farm association after another, availing
itself of the 1975 regulations, elects to produce
a public garden and pleasaunce in the place of its
former fields, and the area of freedom and beauty is
increased. And the chemists’ triumphs of
synthesis, which could now give us an entirely artificial
food, remain largely in abeyance because it is so much
more pleasant and interesting to eat natural produce
and to grow such things upon the soil. Each year
adds to the variety of our fruits and the delightfulness
of our flowers.