.

ABSTRACT. Why have worthy social reforms in general, and Henry George's 100-year-old proposal to end land speculation and land monopoly, in particular, taken so long to win acceptance? The sociology of knowledge, framed by Mannheim and others, offers fresh insight into the question. The newer concepts of time horizon and its variants-time frame and temporal calibration -- examined by Edward Banfield, Paid Fraisse and others, take it further. Seen and discussed by Locke, Hobbes and Hume without being given names, the new concepts have only recently been singled out for closer study. Time horizon, as a human variable, clarifies why Utopian ideas are originally acceptable to few, and isolates factors that determine the rate at which those ideas become realistic. Thus it helps establish how best to speed that transition.

INTRODUCTION

SOCIAL PROGRESS has often trailed by many years, and in some cases many centuries, the individual insight by which that progress was triggered. The interval between conception of a means of social advancement and the fulfillment of that seminal idea may be seen in part as a waste of human opportunity.

Historic examples are numerous. The ISO-year lag between "Freeborn John" Lilburne's first bold thrust for the freedoms of religion, speech and press in 1637, and the period 1776-1787 in which those ideas were worked out in the American constitutions which have so profoundly altered society, is one of the brighter spots in history, the interval having been as short as it was (1).

The 450-year lag between the first compassionate pleas of Bartolome de Las Casas against the exploitation of the natives found in the New World, voiced initially in his Historia apologetica, and today's continuing efforts to ensure the principle of racial equality is scarred with such episodes as the ruthless destruction of the Incan and Mayan civilizations, the fratricidal four years of our own Civil War, and some aspects of colonialism.

While some interval between concept and realization is functional, if for nothing else than the testing of the idea and the elimination of error, it may be said that the number of years lost through social resistance to valid ideas is in total a vast deficit for mankind.

Are these recurrent intervals irreducible? The question seems worth examination, but with a proviso. The possibility that social reform can be hastened effectively by coercion -- governmental authority or edict -- has been discredited by recent history. It no longer seems an area worth searching. The hope lies, instead, in persuasion, and any truly effective means of reducing the time between concept and realization will be found, if it is found at all, in an improved understanding of the elements of social resistance.

Epistemology, insofar as it is a shared effort to define the origin, the validity and the limits of knowledge, is a discipline which addresses this purpose. The sociology of knowledge is a more recent branch of inquiry in which the relationship between rational concept and social effect is central. It has emerged in this century and has been further denned in the past several decades (2). The intent here is to suggest a structure in which the sociology of knowledge may be considered in terms of other recently offered concepts -- notably time or temporal horizon, time frame and temporal calibration.

While its root concern is with the general question posed above, this paper has a particular bias, and thus a particular purpose in searching for the means of expediting worthwhile social reform. The writer sees the 100-year interval between the concept proposed by Henry George in his Progress and Poverty (3) and other writings, and a still-limited acceptance as unexplainable in terms of the validity of the concept itself. No attempt will be made in what follows to evaluate the concept, there being no want of people better qualified than this writer to do so. The focus here will be instead on a feeling, perhaps shared by others, that "we're really up against something else" (4).

The organization of this paper is to be around a simple syllogism, offered not as something profound, but in the interests of clarity. The root question, in either its general (can social reform be hastened?) or its specific (what's hobbling land value taxation) form, is too comprehensive to be answered satisfactorily at one stroke. There will be no effort to prove a deduction beyond dispute, but rather to correlate a number of concepts which now have independent standing. The simple exercise in deductive reasoning is an effort to sketch in the studs, the joists and the rafters of a structure which may prove a more hospitable shelter for social understanding. The syllogism to be explored on those terms is this:

* Social reformers, whose temporal horizons are wider than the current time frame, have found temporal discalibration a major impediment in their efforts.

* The current advocates of land value taxation (LVT) have temporal horizons wider than the current time frame.

* Therefore the advocates of LVT are hampered by a need for temporal calibration.

TIME SPAN IN UNDERSTANDING

THE TERMS to be used need careful clarification.

Time (or Temporal) Horizon -- by which is meant the time span characteristically taken into account by an individual in the process of understanding.

While it is a relatively new term (5), it has come into use to designate a trait which both philosophers in their tomes and ordinary people in their colloquial speech have long recognized. It is not unusual to hear a person called "a man of vision," not because that individual has either microscopic or telescopic aptitude, but rather as a comment on his characteristic ability and willingness to "look" into the future in the cogitative process. Such men, though, are out of the ordinary, as Hamilton reminded us in the Sixth Federalist:

Has it not, on the contrary, invariably been found that momentary passions, and immediate interests, have a more active and imperious control over human conduct than general or remote considerations of policy, utility or justice (6).

The idea will seem familiar, but its simplicity can be deceptive, and since time horizon is at the core of the concept being offered here (the other terms being only variations on it), it is best to be sure of it before we set out.

Time horizon is, to start with, a variable. Some see farther ahead than others. Paul Fraisse and Francine Orsini discussed its variable nature as a facet of maturation in 1957 (7). Children are greatly put out by the frustrations arising from the postponement of satisfaction. They are noticeably better able to stand delays as they grow older.

The variable aspect of time horizon continues into maturity and there leads to trouble. Does it vary with intelligence or with environment? Is it a genetic or a social trait? How much of it is natural capacity, and how much is willingness? Edward C. Banfield, who gave the term its widest circulation in 1968 with his book, The Unheavenly City, ran headlong into a hornet's nest on these questions. He used time horizon as a central concept in his book. He made it the measure of social class, narrowing it down to "a function of two factors: 1) ability to imagine a future, and 2) ability to discipline oneself to sacrifice present for future satisfaction. The more distant the future the individual can imagine and can discipline himself to make sacrifices for, the 'higher' is his class." Criticism of the original book led Banfield to publish a revision, not to change his position but to "make it harder for some of my critics to misunderstand" (8). The changes Banfield saw fit to make add up to a valuable elaboration of the idea (9).

Time horizon has a long and honorable lineage in scholarly American literature, if not as a term, at least as a bone of major contention. It is one of the few questions on which Jonathan Edwards, in his "errand into the wilderness," took issue with a man numbered among his chief mentors: John Locke. The issue arises out of two works in which this country has its intellectual roots (10). Locke furnished Edwards with a starting point with An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, which the American minister first read avidly in 1717 as a 14-year-old student at Yale. It took years of reflection for Edwards to refine his contention to the point where he was ready to disagree with Locke in his own Careful and Strict Enquiry Into . . . Freedom of Will. He wrote it near the end of an embattled career. The issue which divided the two thinkers, though dear and categorical, is profound and deserves no less than the careful analysis given it by Paul Ramsey in his introduction to the Yale University edition of Edwards' famous book (11).

Briefly, Locke and Edwards, striving to determine to what extent man is free, were agreed man is unlike a machine in that "he has reason and understanding," and that man's will is guided by the dictates or views of his understanding (12). "Good, then, the greater good, is that which determines the will," says Locke in his first edition in 1690, and Edwards stood with him. Thus they believed a man is free to do as he pleases, his pleasure being determined by the "last dictate of his understanding."

After the first edition of his essay had been printed, however, Locke saw fit to refine his view, in effect bringing time horizon into the understanding.

But there is a case wherein a man is at liberty in respect of willing; and that is the choosing of a remote good as an end to be pursued. Here a man may suspend the act of his choice from being determined for or against the thing proposed, till he has examined whether it be really of a nature, in itself and consequences, to make him happy or not.

Locke wanted it recognized that man's understanding, being subject to uneasiness in its present circumstances, has the capacity to range over time and has "a power to suspend the execution and satisfaction of any of its desires." It was an important distinction in Locke's view. "This is the hinge on which turns the liberty of intellectual beings," "the great inlet and exercise of all the liberty men have"; "that they can suspend their desires and stop them from determining the good and evil of it."

It is a nice tribute to the human mind, but Edwards was hard-headed. He insisted, even after 35 years of thinking it over, that Locke had been more nearly right the first time. He understood the time horizon Locke wanted to bring in. Says Edwards: " 'Tis a thing in itself agreeable to the mind, to have pleasure speedily; and disagreeable, to have it delayed; so that if there be two equal degrees of pleasure set in the mind's view, and all other things are equal, but only one is beheld as near, and the other far off; the nearer will appear most agreeable, and so will be chosen." But he also saw suspension for what it really is: procrastination -- the stuff of which Shakespeare made a play called Hamlet.

Edwards also knew time horizon is a variable. "It is most agreeable to some men, to follow their reason; and to others to follow their appetites . . . and not only so, but to the same persons at different times." Reason, being capable of taking the future into account, and being "quite a different matter from things appearing now as most agreeable," is sometimes put into the scale and sometimes not. Remote concerns are, sometimes and by some men, left out of the balance. He wanted men judged as moral agents not insofar as they put off the determination of an act, by suspending the will long enough to weigh the good and evil, but through an understanding which continually (or characteristically) covered a broad swath of time. It is relevant here that Edwards felt driven to make his Strict Enquiry by the realities of his role as the leading Congregational preacher in western New England; and among the "sinners" of which he was consciously aware were land speculators in the Connecticut river valley.

"The understanding," he insists, as we insist here with him, to make clear that time horizon is not an occasional but a characteristic trait, "must be taken in a large sense, as including the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not merely what is called reason or judgement."

TIME HORIZON AS A CONCEPT

FRAISSE BELIEVES "the psychology of time begins with Kant. Prior to him, the reality of time had not been questioned, even though philosophers disputed its nature" (13). If so, time horizon emerged as a concept even before the reality of time itself, for when Critique of Pure Reason appeared in 1781, an awareness of time horizon as a variable in human nature had already helped shape the thinking which was even then drafting the first of our state constitutions. Locke, in a different work, had warned educators that, "He that has not a mastery over his inclinations, he that knows not how to resist the importunity of present pleasure or pain, for the sake of what reason tells him is fit to be done, wants the true principle of virtue and industry, and is in danger of never being good for anything." Hobbes had written of man's "perverse desire of present profit," and Spinoza of man's "passions, which take no account of the future or anything else" (14).

Banfield in 1977, still sensitive to the criticism he had drawn ten years before, but still standing by his views on time horizon, wanted it known the idea not only had a most respectable heritage in American history, but was being seen long before our constitutions were written as at the very heart of mankind's need for government. "It is to protect men against this irrationality that the civil government exists," he wrote (IS). "Hume makes the fullest statement of the case:

"Here then, is the origin of civil government and society. Men are not able to cure, either in themselves or others, that narrowness of soul which makes them prefer the present to the remote. They cannot change their natures. All they can change is their situation, and render the observance of justice the immediate interests of some particular persons, and its violation the more remote" (16).

Hence elected leaders, the division of powers, checks and balances and the other aspects of republican government as it came into existence with our constitutions.

It was Henry Pieron in 1923, Fraisse says, who first defined the psychology of time in a behaviorist framework, through the objective study of human behavior in relation to time (17). Since that year, the pace of study has quickened, but the ramifications of what first seems a simple idea get deeper and deeper. Fraisse admits that, of the differences between individuals in their temporal horizons, "little is yet known." Indeed, this writer has been able to find no standard test intended to measure even roughly this long recognized variable trait. One such difference is the degree to which intelligence is involved. Fraisse cites an analysis by Robert Kastenbaum in 1961 to support the development of time horizon which comes with maturation as being, "to a very great extent a function of intelligence" (18). Banfield's carefully worded second statement, agreeing with the first but enlarging upon it, takes the position that, "Ability (or willingness) to take account of the future does not appear to have much relation to intelligence or IQ."

Such fundamental differences would have to be reconciled before the terms could be used as an exact measure. It seems possible that individual intelligence is a key to the "ability" of an individual to conceive of a future, while social environment may have more effect on "willingness" to do so (19). It is not difficult to find instances in which intelligent men have given their powers of reason second place to short term profit. Walter Lippmann warns, in a discussion of the balance between reason and desire: "When reason no longer represents society within the human psyche, then it becomes the instrument of appetite, desire and passion" (20).

THE TIME HORIZON CONSENSUS

TIME FRAME -- by which is meant the composite of the time horizons of all the individuals in a particular social unit. The author of this paper, seeing a need for it, proposed the term earlier as being related to time horizon and meaning "the collective measure, being the norm for any particular social unit at any particular time" (21). Thus it is to the social unit under consideration what time or temporal horizon is to the individual.

Time frame as a variable in the broadest sense is to be seen in Benjamin Lee Whorf's germinal account (1935) of the Hopi Indian concept of time, as reflected in their language (22). Whorf believes the Hopi "has no general notion or intuition of TIME as a smooth flowing continuum," yet the language is able to account for and describe in a pragmatic or operational sense all observable phenomena of the universe. He says "the Hopi language and culture conceals a Metaphysics, such as our so-called naive view of space and time does, or as the relativity theory does; yet each is a different metaphysics from the other ... in this Hopi view, time disappears and space is altered."

Fraisse considers it more specifically and explains that "each social framework (family, profession, church, nation, and so forth) has its own way of seeing time." Lawrence Leshan wrote of varying time frames in 1952, pointing out that (as Fraisse puts it) (23),

In any given society, the temporal horizon appears to be fairly closely bound up with the cycle of experienced expectations and satisfactions. Every man has the capacity to evoke very distant pasts or futures, but in practice the horizon that has solidity and reality for him is narrowly linked to his way of life. The time of the peasant is one thing, and the time of the city dweller is another."

The author of this paper has argued that (since time horizon is a variable for an individual) time frame must be a variable for any given social unit. Time frame can be affected by external events to which there is a common response by the social unit. Such a broadening of time frame is to be seen in the 12 years in which the people of America fought for and won their independence, and wrote the American constitutions. The much-disputed role of Thomas Paine and his writings in that significant, though brief period of time may be seen as a catalyst which helped to dilate the time frame of the 13 colonies (24).

ADJUSTING HORIZONS TO FIT THE FRAME

TEMPORAL CALIBRATION -- by which is meant the adjustment of differing time horizons to bring them more nearly into accord with the time frame, so as to make mutual understanding possible. The present "now" is, of course, the common index, so that any possible adjustment is the depth of a perceivable future or a memorable past.

Whorf uses a parallel term in his discussion of "Science and linguistics," drawing on his earlier revelations of the deeply different Hopi Indian time frame (25).

We are thus introduced to a new principle of relativity, which holds that all observers are not led by the same physical evidence to the same picture of the universe, unless their linguistic backgrounds are similar, or can in some way be calibrated.

While Whorf was concerned with linguistic calibration, it can as well be said of the need for temporal calibration once it has been established that time horizon is a factor in fundamental values (26). It was an empirical awareness of the role of time calibration in successful communication, arrived at as a working journalist, which led to the inquiry that results in this paper. When speaker and listener, or writer and reader, are on the same time "wave length," when they share a time horizon, then clear communication is more readily possible. When they differ drastically, however, then the values that are a foundation on which understanding must be built contribute nothing to clarity. They create misunderstanding, in fact, and thus confusion or distrust.

"It is one of the main contentions of this book that these patterns," says Banfield in his second work (he spoke of the class cultures of the city, in the first one), "no less than the logic of growth, are constraints which the policymaker must take into account and which limits what he may accomplish." The contention here is that the basis for those constraints is the discalibration which exists between the several classes.

While the term is not generally used, the function is to be found in a number of devices, including such socialist instruments as the "five year plans" used by some authoritarians to coordinate, or "calibrate" social effort.

It is temporal calibration by which this conceptual structure relates to the sociology of knowledge. Karl Mannheim's "three distinct types of thought," which have been found acceptable to others considering the idea, are clearly strung along the continuum which Fraisse says is a Christian concept and which is the generally accepted outline of time in western civilization. Ideological, realistic and Utopian thought are the equivalent of past, present and future.

Mannheim assumes the inevitability of change, with the passage of time. Realistic thought is that based on the present reality, and is therefore most readily calibrated since it need not hypothesize a future nor interpret a past. Realistic thought becomes ideological as it drifts into the past, and Mannheim sees the latter as unrealistic because it attempts to deny inevitable change. Utopian thought, on the other hand, is abstract because it lies ahead of the present on the time continuum. It is therefore drifting toward reality. Mannheim sees it as unrealistic or impractical because it is "dictated by wishful thinking concerning some imagined future Utopia, as yet incapable of realization." L. E. Hill and R. L. Rouse, who recognize Utopian thought to be "not currently realizable," add, however, that it can "cause a profound primary influence on current intellectual history and, through this primary influence, an ultimate secondary influence on future economic history" (27).

Utopian thought is possible only for those with time horizons long enough to encompass both present and distant future, so that there is by definition a need for calibration if the results of that thought are to be made understandable to others whose time horizons are more nearly equivalent to the current time frame.

A major constraint rendering thought "as yet incapable of realization" is the impediment of time discalibration, and in those cases where Utopian thought is valid (not always the case) it becomes capable of realization, and thus realistic, as it drifts toward the present -- as hypothetical future conditions become observable present environment. The interval between concept and realization is thus determined by the rate at which that shift takes place.

If this picture of social change is sound, there are at least two variables which can affect the duration of that interval: 1) the rate of that change Mannheim and others see as inevitable, which might be seen as the rate of natural drift, and 2) the relative rate of change between the time horizon at which the Utopian concept first arises and the time frame of the social unit involved. The prophet who would shorten the time between concept and realization will help his cause insofar as he 1) lengthens the time frame of the group to which he is preaching, or 2) adjusts his own time horizon to bring it more nearly into accord with the time frame. Since time frame is a social measure which may well be beyond his control, the prophet's only viable choice is to adjust his own horizon as necessary (28).

REFERENCES and FOOTNOTES

1. Irving Brant, The Bill of Rights: Its Origin and Meaning (New York: Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1965), p. 112, says "Lilburne's great gift to posterity was the exalting thought of liberty as a natural right, but the time was far in the future when men would be free to speak or print their religious or political opinion if they conflicted with those held by Church or State."

2. Karl Mannheim, Ideology and Utopia (London: Kegan, Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1952); Werner Stark, The Sociology of Knowledge (Glencoe, ffl.: The Free Press, 1958); L. E. Hill and R. L. Rouse, "The Sociology of Knowledge and the History of Economic Thought," American Journal of Economics and Sociology (Vol. 36, No. 3, July 1977), pp. 299-309.

3. Henry George, Progress and Poverty, first published in 1879. It might be suggested that the lag is even longer, pegging the initial concept to others who had seen earlier that land title is a potential instrument of coercion, equivalent to the institution of slavery. The French Physiocrats of the 18th century are most likely to be confused as the starting point, since the term used by Quesnay and his followers (impot unique) was later tacked onto George's proposals, as the "single tax." Thomas Spence had an embryonically similar suggestion in a lecture delivered before the Philosophical Society of Newcastle, England, in 1775 (see Jacob Oser, Henry George (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1974), pp. 104-5). Thomas More, satirizing the enclosure acts in his Utopia (1516), is one who caught an earlier glimpse of the land problem. Tiberius Gracchus and the Spartan king, Agis IV, compared in the only one of Plutarch's Parallel Lives to deal with a quartet of historical figures, are others who grasped the problem early, the Roman in 133 B.C. and the Greek a century before him. George's essential concept, however, was rooted in the idea of individual liberty, and is inseparable from it. He was the first to offer a practical device whereby the long-understood land question could be resolved within the limits of liberalism, and is indeed necessary if free enterprise is to succeed.

4. See, for example, comments by Harry Gunnison Brown quoted in Steven B. Cord, Henry George: Dreamer or Realist? (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1965), p. 165.

5. The date of its first use is uncertain. The term got its widest attention hi 1968 with the publication of Banfield's The Unheavenly City (see note 8 below), but it was already in general enough use so that Fraisse employs it throughout his article on psychological aspects (see note 7 below) published the same year.

6. Alexander Hamilton, The Federalist Papers. The quotation is from the ninth paragraph of Number Six, which appears in the Clinton Rossiter edition (New York, New American Library, 1961) on p. 56.

7. Paul Fraisse, "TIME: Psychological Aspects," in David L. SiDs, ed., International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences (New York: Macmillan Company and The Free Press, 1968), Vol. 16, pp. 25-29.

8. Edward C. Banfield, The Unheavenly City: The Nature and Future of Our Urban Crisis (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1968) where the first quotation is from page 47; and The Unheavenly City Revisited (ibid., 1974). The second quotation is in a letter from Banfield February 14, 1977.

9. It should be noted that Banfield, in both books, uses the term to designate an ability to provide for the future, which seems to limit it to the economic sense. The use in this paper is broader, and is intended to encompass the "understanding," as both Locke and Edwards used that word.

10. John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690); and Jonathan Edwards, A Careful and Strict Enquiry Into the Modern prevailing Notions of that Freedom of Will Which is supposed to be essential to Moral Agency, Vertue and Vice, Reward and Punishment, Praise and Blame (Boston, 1754). Locke's generally-recognized direct influence on the writers of the American constitutions was through the Second Treatise of Civil Government. (1689). But it was in the Essay, published within a few months of the Treatise, in which Locke laid out the theory of knowledge on which the rest of his work stands. Edwards' Enquiry was being widely read during the years before our constitutions were written, and Alan Heimert in Religion and the American Mind from the Great Awakening to the Revolution (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1966) calls it "the Calvinist handbook of the Revolution."

11. Paul Ramsey, ed., Jonathan Edwards Freedom of the Will (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 19S7), as Volume One of The Works of Jonathan Edwards to appear under the general editorship of Perry Miller). See Ramsey's discussion, pp. 47-65; also Edwards' Part-I, Section Two, pp. 141-43.

12. Ibid., p. 370.

13. Fraisse, loc. At., p. 25.

14. The quotation from Locke occurs in Some Thoughts Concerning Education (1693), see paragraphs 33, 38 and 45; Hobbes, The Citizen, Ch. 2, paragraphs 27 and 32; Spinoza, Tractatus Theologico Potiticus, Ch. V.

15. Banfield, "Present-Orientedness and Crime," an address delivered to the Harvard University Symposium on Crime and Punishment, March 5, 1977.

16. David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, 1777 ed., Sec. VI, Part I, para. 196.

17. Fraisse, loc. At., p. 25.

18. Ibid., p. 28.

19. N. J. Berrill, Man's Emerging Mind (New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1955), p. 73. Berrill says, "In a general way we can say with some truth that the part of the brain lying behind the central groove is concerned with the present and the past, the part in front with the immediate and the more distant future, although all the evidence indicates that brain or mind acts as a whole and not as separate departments." The physical separation suggests the linguistic organization which Whorf found in the Hopi Indians (see note 22 below), whereby all that is experienced or has been experienced is in one tense, and all that is "soul" or "hope" for an imagined future is another tense.

20. Walter Lippmann, The Public Philosophy (Boston, Little Brown, 1955) pp. 63-4. Alexander Hamilton provides an interesting example of this ambiguity. He understood the human passion for short term satisfaction well enough to raise it in the Sixth Federalist (see note 6 above), and was dearly capable of grasping the future, and was concerned with it. Yet he was skilled at harnessing those "momentary passions, and immediate interests" in others to his own ends. An example is to be found in a footnote to Charles A. Beard's Economic Origins of Jeffersonian Democracy, the original source of which is the personal journal of Senator William Maclay, quoted in Sketches of Debate in the First Senate of the United States (Harrisburg ed.), p. 169. Senator Maclay had been listening to and was commenting on the debate on the public funding of debts, when James Madison urged his colleagues in behalf of his plan to discriminate between original holders and purchasers of securities and speculators who stood to gain. Maclay says Hamilton's followers, "seemed to aim at one point, to make Madison ridiculous. Antes delivered a long string of studied sentences, but he did not use a single argument that seemed to leave an impression. He has public faith, public credit, honor and, above all, justice, as often over as an Indian would the Great Spirit, and, if possible, with less meaning, and to as little purpose. Hamilton, at the head of the speculators, with all the courtiers, are on one side. These I call the party who are actuated by interest. The opposition are governed by principle. But I fear in this case interest will outweigh principle."

21. Richard Noyes, "Time Frame as a Variable in the Fifth Provincial Congress," Historical New Hampshire, Vol. 31, No. 4 (Winter 1976), p. 211.

22. Benjamin Lee Whorf in "An American Indian Model of the Universe," a paper read before the Linguistic Society of America in December, 1935. It was included in the collection of his writings, Language, Thought and Reality (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1956), pp. 57-44.

23. Fraisse, loc. Tit., p. 29.

24. Noyes, op. tit., pp. 213-4. Scott Burns, financial editor of the Boston Herald American has discussed another example of time frame (February 16, 1978, p. 12). Investment horizon, he explains, is "one of the most important keys to understanding the direction of stock market prices." He describes investment horizon as "the length of time investors feel comfortable looking ahead. It's the period of tune the investor is willing to gamble on accepting a lower dividend return in common stocks on the chance he will ultimately make more money from higher future dividends or capital gains." Burns says this parochial instance of time horizon/frame is a variable.

25. Whorf, "Science and Linguistics," op. tit., pp. 214, 218-9.

26. Fraisse, loc. At., p. 28, Jinks language and time frame more closely: "Past and future are made more precise by the learning of the society's language. Along with language, society transmits its representations of the past and the future."

27. Hill and Rouse, op. cit., p. 301.

28. For the conclusion of this report of my investigation, see "The Time Horizon of Planned Social Change: II. How the Advocates of Social Reform May Expedite Their Purpose Through Temporal Calibration," forthcoming in this Journal.



PART TWO