CS Lewis on ‘The Inner Ring’
I’ve just read an important and timely lecture by CS Lewis that I would like to commend to all of you called “The Inner Ring.” It was given at the University of London (King’s College) in 1944 and is about the inevitable development of exclusive circles and cliques within academia and every other field and area of life as well as the intense human desire to be inside of those circles.
Lewis admits that there are hundreds and hundreds of circles, often overlapping, and that their development is natural and unavoidable. They are not even bad in themselves. Nevertheless, the constant desire to be in the ‘inner ring’ is bad. By analogy, Lewis says that “the painless death of a pious relative at an advanced age is not an evil. But an earnest desire for her death on the part of her heirs [is]…”
What makes the desire for the inner ring so bad is that, when unwatched, it is the main cause of good people becoming scoundrels. So Lewis says to his young audience:
To nine out of ten of you the choice which could lead to scoundrelism will come, when it does come, in no very dramatic colours. Obviously bad men, obviously threatening or bribing, will almost certainly not appear. Over a drink, or a cup of coffee, disguised as triviality and sandwiched between two jokes, from the lips of a man, or woman, whom you have recently been getting to know rather better and whom you hope to know better still—just at the moment when you are most anxious not to appear crude, or naïf or a prig—the hint will come. It will be the hint of something which the public, the ignorant, romantic public, would never understand: something which even the outsiders in your own profession are apt to make a fuss about: but something, says your new friend, which “weâ€â€”and at the word “we†you try not to blush for mere pleasure—something “we always do.â€
And you will be drawn in, if you are drawn in, not by desire for gain or ease, but simply because at that moment, when the cup was so near your lips, you cannot bear to be thrust back again into the cold outer world. It would be so terrible to see the other man’s face—that genial, confidential, delightfully sophisticated face—turn suddenly cold and contemptuous, to know that you had been tried for the Inner Ring and rejected. And then, if you are drawn in, next week it will be something a little further from the rules, and next year something further still, but all in the jolliest, friendliest spirit. It may end in a crash, a scandal, and penal servitude; it may end in millions, a peerage and giving the prizes at your old school. But you will be a scoundrel.
Additionally, submission to this vice, as with all others, does not truly satisfy. Instead, Lewis offers two main pieces of advice, one work-related, and the other leisure related:
he quest of the Inner Ring will break your hearts unless you break it. But if you break it, a surprising result will follow. If in your working hours you make the work your end, you will presently find yourself all unawares inside the only circle in your profession that really matters. You will be one of the sound craftsmen, and other sound craftsmen will know it. This group of craftsmen will by no means coincide with the Inner Ring or the Important People or the People in the Know. It will not shape that professional policy or work up that professional influence which fights for the profession as a whole against the public: nor will it lead to those periodic scandals and crises which the Inner Ring produces. But it will do those things which that profession exists to do and will in the long run be responsible for all the respect which that profession in fact enjoys and which the speeches and advertisements cannot maintain.
And if in your spare time you consort simply with the people you like, you will again find that you have come unawares to a real inside: that you are indeed snug and safe at the centre of something which, seen from without, would look exactly like an Inner Ring. But the difference is that the secrecy is accidental, and its exclusiveness a by-product, and no one was led thither by the lure of the esoteric: for it is only four or five people who like one another meeting to do things that they like. This is friendship. Aristotle placed it among the virtues. It causes perhaps half of all the happiness in the world, and no Inner Ring can ever have it.
It is a valuable, and not very long, read, and I suggest it in its entirety. The rest is here.
