This contrast between profit-making and productivity deserves some attention. Sismondi had already called attention to it by distinguishing between the net and the gross product. A number of writers have treated of it since, and it holds a by no means insignificant place in the history of economic doctrines.[901]
The opposition is dwelt upon in no equivocal fashion by Rodbertus. This pursuit of the maximum net product is clearly the producer’s only guide, but the conclusions which he proceeds to draw from it are somewhat more questionable. If we accept his opinion that the satisfaction of social need and not of individual demand is the determining factor in production, we are driven to the conclusion that modern society, actuated as it is by this one motive, cannot possibly satisfy every individual demand. But we have already shown that the phrase “social need” has no precise connotation; neither has the term “productivity,” which is so intimately connected with it. Further, if society has no desire to impose upon its members an arbitrary scale of wants that must be satisfied—in other words, if demand and consumption are to remain free—it can only be by adopting that system which recognises a difference between the present and the future “rentability” of the product. This difference between the sale price and the real cost of production of any commodity must, it seems to us, be recognised even by a collectivist society as the only method of knowing whether the satisfaction which a commodity gives is in any way commensurate with the labour involved in its production.[902] Pareto has given an excellent demonstration of this by showing how collectivist society will have to take account of price indications if social demand is to be at all adequately supplied.
2. Turning to the other desideratum, namely, a fuller utilisation of the means of production, Rodbertus contents himself with quoting the criticisms of the Saint-Simonians concerning the absence of conscious direction which characterises the present régime and the hereditary element which is such a common feature of economic administration. He is in full agreement with Sismondi when the latter declares that production is entirely at the option of the capitalist proprietor.[903] In this matter he is content merely to follow his leaders, without making any contribution of his own to the subject.
3. There still remains a third economic function which society ought to perform, and which Rodbertus considered the most important of all, namely, the distribution of the social product. An analysis of the present system of distribution was one of the tasks he had set himself to accomplish, believing with Sismondi and other socialists that a solution of the problem of distribution and the explanation of such phenomena as economic crises and pauperism constitute the most vital problems which face the science at the present moment.
A just distribution, in Rodbertus’s opinion, should secure to everyone the product of his labour.[904] But does not the present régime of free competition and private property accomplish this?
Let us watch the mechanism of distribution as we find it operating at the present time. Rodbertus’s description of it is not very different from J. B. Say’s, and it tallies pretty closely with the Classical scheme. On the one hand we have the entrepreneur who purchases the services of labour, land, and capital, and sells the product which results from this collaboration. The prices which he pays for these services and the price he himself receives from the consumer are determined by the interaction of demand and supply. What remains after paying wages, interest, and rent constitutes his profits.[905]
The distribution of the product is effected through the mechanism of exchange, and the result of its operation is to secure to the owner of every productive service the approximate market value of that service. Could anything be juster? Apparently not. But if we examine the social and economic hinterland behind this mechanism what we do find is the callous exploitation of the worker by every capitalist and landlord. The various commodities which are distributed among the different beneficiaries are really the products of labour. They are begotten of effort and toil—largely mechanical. Rodbertus did not under-value intellectual work or under-estimate the importance of directive energy. But intelligent effort seemed to him an almost inexhaustible force, and its employment should cost nothing, just as the forces of nature may be got for nothing. Only manual labour implies loss of time and energy—the sacrifice of something that cannot be replaced.[906] Consequently he does not recognise the intellectual or moral effort (the name is immaterial) involved in the postponement of consumption, whereby a present good is withheld with a view to contributing to the sum total of future good.[907] And he proceeds to define and to develop the opening paragraph of Smith’s Wealth of Nations: “The annual labour of every nation is the fund which originally supplies it with all the necessaries and conveniences of life which it annually consumes, and which consist always either in the immediate produce of that labour or in what is purchased with that produce from other nations.”
The difference between his attitude and Marx’s is also interesting. Marx was thoroughly well versed in political economy, and had made a special study of the English socialists. His one object was to set up a new theory of exchange, with labour as the source of all value. Rodbertus, who drew his inspiration from the Saint-Simonians, focused attention upon production, and treated labour as the real source of every product—a simpler, a truer, but a still incomplete proposition. Rodbertus never definitely commits himself to saying that labour by itself creates value, but, on the other hand, he never denies it.[908] Social progress, he always maintained, must consist in the greater degree of coincidence[909] between the value of a product and the quantity of labour contained in it. But this is a task which the future must take in hand.[910] Again, if it be true that the worker creates the product, but that the proprietors of the soil and the capitalists who have had no share in its production are able to manipulate exchange in such a way as to retain a portion of it for themselves, it is clear that our judgment concerning the equity of the present system needs some revision. This secret embezzlement for the profit of the non-worker and to the injury of the diligent proceeds without any outward display of violence through the free play of exchange operating within a system of private property. Its sole cause lies in the present social system, “which recognises the claim of private landowners and capitalists to a share of the wealth distributed, although they have contributed nothing towards its production.”[911]
Hence his exposition of the twofold aspect of distribution. Economically exchange attributes to each of the factors land, capital, and labour a portion of the produce corresponding to the value of their respective services as estimated in the market. Socially it often means taking away from the real producers—from the workers—a part of the goods which their toil has created. This portion Rodbertus refers to under the simple name “rent,” which includes both the revenue of capitalists and the income of landlords.
No economist ever put the twofold aspect of the problem in a clearer light. Laying hold of the eternal opposition between the respective standpoints, he emphasises the difficulties which they present to so many minds. Justice would relate distribution to merit, but society is indifferent provided its own needs are satisfied. Society simply takes account of the market value of these products and services without ever showing the least concern for their origin or the efforts which they may originally have involved—the weary day of the industrious labourer and the effortless lounge of the lazy capitalist being similarly rewarded. Rodbertus’s great merit was to separate this truth from the other issues so frequently confused with it in the writings of the earlier economists and to bring it clearly before the notice of his fellow economists.
Rodbertus’s criticism did not end there, although the demonstration which we have just given of the distinction between the social and the purely economic point of approach to distribution constitutes its essential merit. We must not omit the practical conclusions which he draws from it.
What concerned Rodbertus most—at least, so we imagine from the standpoint which he adopted—was not the particular way in which the rate of wages or interest, high or low rents, are determined, but the proportion of the revenue that goes to the workers and non-workers respectively. The former question is a purely economic one of quite secondary importance compared with this other social problem. Believing that he had already shown the possibility of the workers being robbed, the problem now was to determine whether this spoliation was likely to continue. Does economic progress give any ground for hoping that rent or unearned income will gradually disappear? Bastiat and Carey had replied in the affirmative. The proportion that goes to capital, so they affirmed, is gradually becoming less, to the great advantage of the labourer. Ricardo, faced with the same dilemma, had come to the conclusion that with the inevitable increase in the cost of producing food the landowner’s share must be constantly growing. Say had asked himself the same question in the earliest edition of his treatise, but had found no reply. Rodbertus adopts none of their solutions, but independently arrives at the conclusion that the worker’s share gradually dwindles, to the advantage of the other participants.[912]
Theorist as he was, a simple deduction was all that was needed to convince him of the truth of this view. The rate of wages, we have already seen, is determined by the interaction of demand and supply in the labour market. The market price of labour, however, like that of any other product, is always gravitating towards a normal value—this normal value being none other than Ricardo’s necessary wage. “The share of the product that falls to the lot of the producer both in an individual instance and as a general rule is not measured by the amount which he himself has produced, but by that quantity which is sufficient for the upkeep of his strength and the upbringing of his children.”[913] This celebrated “brazen law” became the pivot of Lassalle’s propaganda, although it was never definitely recognised by Marx.
Granting the existence of such a law, and admitting also that the amount produced by labour is always increasing, so that the mass of commodities produced always keeps growing, a very simple arithmetical calculation suffices to show that the total quantity obtained by the workers always remains the same, representing a diminished fraction of the growing totality.
A similar demonstration affords a clue to the prevalence of crises. The entrepreneur keeps adding to the mass of commodities produced until he touches the full capacity of social demand.[914] But while production grows and expands the worker’s share dwindles, and thus his demand for some products remains permanently below production level. The structure is giving way under the very feet of the unsuspecting producer.[915] This theory of crises is simply a re-echo of Sismondi,[916] and gives an explanation of a chronic evil rather than of a crisis pure and simple. Its scientific value is just about equal to Sismondi’s other theory concerning proportional distribution.
This theory upon which Rodbertus laid such emphasis had already been outlined in his Forderungen, and a fuller development is given in his Soziale Briefe, where he expressly states it to be the fundamental point of his whole system, all else being mere scaffolding. His one ambition all his life long was to be able to give a statistical proof of it, but its importance is not nearly as great as he imagined it to be.
In the first place, doubt as to the validity of the “brazen” or “iron law of wages”—upon which the theory is based—is entertained not merely by economists, but also by socialists. And even if it were true, Rodbertus’s proof would still be inconclusive, for the workers’ share of the total product depends not upon one fact alone, but upon two—the rate of wages and the number of workers. Rodbertus’s error and Bastiat’s are very similar. Bastiat had tried to determine the capitalists’ share of the total product by taking account of one fact only, namely, the rate of interest, whereas he ought to have taken the amount of existing capital into consideration as well.
But we must admit that although the arguments used by Rodbertus are scarcely more reliable than Bastiat’s, his theory itself is nearer the facts as judged by statistics. No amount of a priori reasoning without some recourse to statistics can ever solve the problem. Statistics themselves seem to prove that labour’s portion, in some countries at least, has shown signs of diminishing since the beginning of the present century.
This does not necessarily mean that the worker must be worse off, for it may well happen that a diminution in the general share obtained by labour is accompanied by a growth of individual wages. All that we can conclude is that wages have not increased as rapidly as has capital’s share,[917] but this has not prevented the workers sharing in the general growth of prosperity.
Logically enough, Rodbertus proceeds to draw certain practical conclusions, including the necessity for the suppression of private property and of individual production. The community should be the sole owner of the means of production. Unearned income must go. Everyone should contribute something to the national dividend, and each should share in the total produce in proportion to his labour. The value of all commodities will depend upon the amount of time spent on them and effort put into them; and since the supply will always adapt itself to the needs of society the measure will be constant and exact, and equal distribution will be assured.
But Rodbertus recoils from his own solution, and the ardent socialist becomes a simple State Socialist. What frightens him is not the terrible tyranny of a system under which production and even consumption would be strictly regulated. “There would be as much personal freedom under a system of this kind as in any other form of society,” he remarks,[918] “society” evidently always implying some measure of restraint. His apprehension was of a different kind. He had a perfect horror of any revolutionary change, and stood aghast at the lack of education displayed by the masses. He realised how unwilling they were to sacrifice even a part of their wages in order to enable other men to have the necessary leisure to pursue the study of the arts and sciences—the noblest fruits of civilisation. Finally it seemed to him that illegal appropriation and the rightful ownership which results from vigorous toil are too often confused by being indiscriminately spoken of as private property. “There is,” says he, “so much that is right mixed up with what is wrong that one goads the lawful owner into revolt in trying to lay hold of the unlawful possessor.”[919]
Some kind of compromise should at all costs be effected. If private property—one of the great evils of the present day—cannot be got rid of without some inconvenience, cannot we possibly dispense with freedom of contract, the other source of inequality? Let us assume, then, that we have got rid of free contract while retaining the institution of private property. By doing this, although we are not immediately able to clear away unearned income, we shall have removed some of the greatest inconveniences that result from it. We shall arrest the downward trend of labour’s remuneration, and poverty and crises will disappear together.[920]
Such an attempt might be made even now. Let the State estimate the total value of the social product in terms of labour and determine the fraction that should go to the workers. Let it give to each entrepreneur in accordance with the number of workers he employs a number of wage coupons, in return for which the entrepreneur shall be obliged to put on the market a quantity of commodities equal in value. Lastly, let the said workers, paid in wage coupons, supply themselves with whatever they want from the public stores in return for these coupons. The national estimate would from time to time be subject to revision; and in order that the proportions should always be the same, the number of coupons given to labour would have to be increased if the number of commodities produced ever happened to increase. Rodbertus’s aim was to give the workers a share in the general progress made, and such was the plan which he laid down.[921]
There is no need to emphasise its theoretical, let alone its practical difficulties. We were led to mention it for a double reason. In the first place, it is interesting as an attempt to effect a compromise between the society of the present and the collectivism of the future. Marx regards the growing servility of the worker with a certain measure of equanimity as a necessary preliminary to his final emancipation. Rodbertus would speed the process of amelioration and would better his lot here and now.[922] It also throws an interesting light upon his extraordinary confidence in the all-powerful sovereignty of the State, and the ability of government to bend every individual will, even the most recalcitrant, to the general will. At the same time it reveals his utter indifference to individual liberty as an economic motive.
This indifference gradually merges into extreme hostility, while his confidence in the centralised executive becomes all the more thoroughly established. His later historical works contain an exposition of an organic theory of the State which is meant to justify such confidence. Just as in the animal world the higher animals are found to possess the most highly differentiated organs as well as the most closely co-ordinated, so in history as we pass from the lower social strata to the higher ones “the State advances both in magnitude and efficiency; and its action, while increasing in scope, grows in intensity as well. The State in its passage from one evolutionary stage to another presents us not merely with a greater degree of complexity, each function being to a greater and greater extent discharged by some special organ, but also with an increasing degree of harmony. The social organisms, despite their ever-increasing variation, are placed in growing dependence upon one another by being linked to some central organ. In other words, the particular grade that a social organism occupies in the organic hierarchy depends upon the degree to which division of labour and centralisation have been carried.”[923]
We are thus driven back upon the fundamental question set by Rodbertus at the outset of his inquiry: Can the various social functions, acting spontaneously, efficiently further the good of the social body, or should these functions be discharged by the mediation of a special organ, the State or Government? There is also the further question as to whether the reply which he gives is entirely satisfactory.
We are immediately struck by a preliminary contradiction: the economic boundaries of the community do not coincide with its political boundaries. The one is the result of division of labour and is coextensive with the limits set by division of labour, while the second is the product of the changing conditions of history. It is only logical that the economic functions of the State should be performed by other organs than those of the political Government, since its sphere of action is necessarily different. But it is to the State, as evolved in the course of a long historical process, that Rodbertus would entrust this directing power. Between Rodbertus’s description of the State’s economic activity and his final recourse to a national monarchical State is an element of contradiction which strikes us rather forcibly, especially when he comes to speak of “national” socialism.
In order to demonstrate how inadequately the present social organisation performs its duties, Rodbertus appeals to an ideal method of discharging them which he himself has created, and he has not the slightest difficulty in showing that hardly any of his ideal functions are being performed at the present time. Production is not based upon social need, nor is the wealth produced distributed in accordance with the labour spent. But we must never forget that Rodbertus’s conception of the social need was extremely hazy. His distribution formula, “to everyone according as he produces,” if applied logically is impossible, and satisfies neither the demands of humanity nor the needs of production. Had his definition of social function been less ambitious, his argument, perhaps, would have been more convincing.
Let us admit, however, that the existence of an economic society implies the successful accomplishment of certain functions which we need not trouble to define just now. The question then arises—a question that implies the severest criticism of the present organisation: Can the control and oversight which men ought to exercise over these functions be performed otherwise than through the instrumentality of the State? There was only one alternative for Rodbertus—extreme individualism or State control. But nature and history both escape the dilemma. The biological analogy has been carried too far, and most writers would be content to abandon it altogether. Like most of his contemporaries, Rodbertus imagined that economic individualism and personal liberty were indissolubly bound together, and that it was impossible to check individualism without endangering liberty. It is now realised, however, that this association of ideas, like many another, is temporary and not eternal, and the growth of voluntary associations intermediate between the State and the individual is every day showing it to be false.
We are now in a better position to appreciate the kind of appeal which this doctrine would make to State Socialists—people who are essentially conservative, but nevertheless genuinely desirous of seeing a larger element of justice introduced into our industrial régime. The distinction drawn between politics and economic socialism makes a first claim upon their respect. Then would follow the organic conception of society, which is a feature of all Rodbertus’s writings. It was his belief that production and distribution could only be regarded as social functions, and that the breakdown of individualism implied a need for greater centralisation or a greater degree of State control. On the other hand, the State Socialists refuse to associate themselves with the radical condemnation of private property and unearned income, both of which are features of Rodbertus’s teaching. The State Socialists set out to transform the Rodbertian compromise into a self-sufficing system, and instead of regarding their doctrine as a diluted form of socialism they are rather inclined to treat socialism as an exaggerated development of their theory.[924]
2. Lassalle
Rodbertus’s efforts to establish a doctrine of State Socialism upon the firm foundation of a new social theory had already met with a certain measure of success, but it was reserved for Lassalle to infuse vitality into these new ideas.
Lassalle’s brief but brilliant political career, ever memorable for the natural vigour of his eloquence, at once popular and refined, and its indelible impression of a strikingly original nature aflame with a passion both for thought and action, together with the romantic, dramatic character of his checkered existence, lent wonderful force to his utterances. In 1848, at the early age of twenty-three, he was a Marxian revolutionist. The revolutionary period was followed by a time of enforced inactivity, when he devoted himself almost exclusively to philosophical, legal, and literary pursuits. In 1862 the silence was at last broken by his re-entry into the political arena. The whole political life of Germany was at that moment convulsed by the half-hearted opposition which the Prussian Liberal party was offering to Bismarck’s constitutional changes. Lassalle declared war both upon the Government and upon the bourgeois Opposition—upon the latter more than the former, perhaps. Turning to the working classes, he urged them to form a new party which would avoid all purely political questions and to concentrate upon their own economic emancipation. For two eventful years the whole of Germany resounded with his speeches and his declamations before various tribunals, while the country was flooded with his pamphlets advocating the complete establishment of the Allgemeiner deutscher Arbeiterverein (General Association of German Workers), which he had already founded at Leipzig in 1863. The workers of the Rhineland received with open arms the agitator who thus took up in their midst the tangled skein of a broken career, and welcomed him with songs and decked him with garlands. The Liberal press, on the other hand, thoroughly taken aback by his unexpected onslaughts, mercilessly attacked him, even accusing him of having secret dealings with the Government. Suddenly the clamour ceased: Lassalle died on August 31, 1864, as the result of a wound which he had received in a duel,[925] and only the Deutscher Arbeiterverein, the earliest embryo of the great German Social Democratic party, remained as a memento of those violent attacks upon individualist Liberalism.
As far as theory goes, Lassalle’s socialism is hardly distinguishable from Marx’s. Social evolution is summed up in a stricter limitation of the rights of private property,[926] which in the course of a century or two must result in its total disappearance.[927] But Lassalle was pre-eminently a man of action, bent upon practical results. At that particular moment the German working class was only just waking up to the possibility of political existence. The path that it should follow was still undecided. In the year 1863 a number of workmen had tried to persuade their comrades to meet together in a kind of general congress. They further appealed to Lassalle and to other well-known democrats for their advice concerning the labour question. This gave Lassalle the opportunity he required for forming a political party of his own, with himself as chief. The next question was to fix upon a programme. “Working men,” says Lassalle, “must have something definite,”[928] and, on the other hand, “it is almost impossible to get the public to understand the final object which we must keep in view.”[929] So, without burdening his propaganda with too remote an ideal, he concentrates all his efforts upon two demands, the one political, the other economic—universal suffrage on the one hand and the establishment of producers’ associations supported by the State on the other. In order to win over the masses, he invoked, not the doctrine of the exploitation of the workers by the proprietors—which would have alienated the middle classes from him[930]—but the “brazen law of wages,” which is the happy title by which he chose to designate the Ricardian law of wages.
Rodbertus realised the necessity for distinguishing between an esoteric and an exoteric Lassalle[931]—between the logical theorist of the study and the opportunist politician of the public platform. Only to his contemporaries was the latter Lassalle really known. But his letters, which have been published since his death, go to show that there is at least no need to attach any greater importance to his proposed reforms than he was prepared to give them himself. It is not necessary to emphasise the fact that his plan was really borrowed from Louis Blanc or to call attention to the letter written to Rodbertus in which he declares himself quite prepared to change his plan provided a better one can be found. This idea of association was one that was by no means unknown to the German Liberal party; nor was it the first time that it had been preached to the working classes. Lassalle’s rival, Schulze-Delitzsch, had begun an active campaign even as far back as 1849, and had succeeded in establishing a great number of co-operative credit societies, composed largely of artisans, and aiming at supplying them with cheap raw materials. But such associations were to receive no support from the Government.
What was new in Lassalle’s scheme was just this appeal for State intervention. It was his energetic protest against eternal laissez-faire that impressed public opinion, and he himself was anxious that it should be presented in this light. Speaking to the workers of Frankfort on May 19, 1863, he declared that “State intervention is the one question of principle involved in this campaign. That is the consideration that has weighed with me, and there lies the whole issue of the battle which I am about to wage.”[932]
He harks back to this fundamental idea in all his principal writings. It was the theme of his first address delivered to the workers in Berlin in 1862. It is there presented with all his customary force. The bourgeois conception of the State is contrasted with the true conception, which is identical with the workers’. The bourgeoisie seem to think that the State has nothing to do except to protect the property and defend the liberties of the individual—a conception of State action that would be quite sufficient were everybody equally strong and intelligent, equally cultured and equally rich.[933] But where such equality does not exist the State is reduced to the position of a “night watchman,” and the weak is left at the mercy of the strong. In reality the State exists for quite other purposes. The history of mankind is the story of one long struggle to establish liberty in the face of natural forces, to overcome oppression of every kind, and to triumph over the misery, ignorance, want, and weakness with which human nature has always had to reckon. In that struggle the individual, in his isolation, is hopeless and union becomes indispensable. This union is a creation of the State, and its object is to realise the destiny of mankind, namely, the attainment of the highest degree of culture of which humanity is capable. It is a means of educating and of furthering the development of humanity along the path of liberty.
The formula savours of metaphysics rather than of economics. There is a striking similarity between it and the formula employed by Hegel, the philosopher.[934] Lassalle was really a disciple of Hegel and Fichte.[935] Through the influence of Lassalle the theories of the German idealists came into conflict with the economists’, and his incomparable eloquence contributed not a little to the rising tide of indignation with which the Manchester ideas came to be regarded.
III: STATE SOCIALISM—PROPERLY SO CALLED
The years that elapsed between the death of Lassalle and the Congress of Eisenach (1872) proved to be the decisive period in the formation of German State Socialism.
Bismarck’s remarkable coups d’état in 1866 and 1870 had done much to discredit the political reputation of the leaders of the Liberal party, who had shown themselves less than a match for the Chancellor’s political insight. This reacted somewhat upon economic Liberalism, because it so happened that the leaders of both parties were the same.[936] On the other hand, the idea of a rejuvenated empire incarnate in the Iron Chancellor seemed to add fresh lustre to the whole conception of the State. The Jahrbücher für Nationalökonomie, first issued by the Historical school in 1863, had by this time become the recognised organ of the University Economists, and had done a great deal to accustom men’s minds to the relative character of the principles of political economy and to prepare their thoughts for an entirely new point of view.
Labour questions had also suddenly assumed an importance quite undreamt of before this. The German revolution of 1848 was presumably political in character: the great capitalistic industry had not reached that stage of development which characterised it both in England and in France; and it is a significant fact that the two great German socialists, Rodbertus and Marx, had to go abroad to either of those two countries to get their illustrations. But since 1848 German industry had made great strides. A new working-class community had come into being, and Lassalle had further emphasised this transformation by seeking to found a party exclusively upon this new social stratum. The association which was thus founded still survives. Another agitation, largely inspired by Marxian ideas, was begun about the same time by Liebknecht and Bebel. In 1867 both of them were elected to the Reichstag, and two years later they founded the Socialdemokratische Arbeiterpartei (Social Democratic party), which was destined to play such an important part in the history of the next thirty years.
In this way labour questions suddenly attracted attention, just as they had previously done in France during the July Monarchy; and just as in France a new current of opinion—unceremoniously set aside by the coup d’état, it is true—had urged upon the educated classes the importance of abandoning the doctrine of absolute laissez-faire and of claiming the support of Government in the struggle with poverty, so in Germany an increasing number of authors had persuaded themselves that a purely passive attitude in face of the serious nature of the social problem which confronted them was impossible, and that the establishment of some sort of compact between the warring forces of capital and labour should not prove too much of an undertaking for the rejuvenated vitality of a new empire.
The new tendencies revealed themselves in unmistakable fashion at Eisenach in 1872. A conference, which was largely composed of professors and economists, of administrators and jurists, decided upon the publication of a striking manifesto in which they declared war upon the Manchester school. The manifesto spoke of the State as “a great moral institution for the education of humanity,” and claimed that it should be “animated by a high moral ideal,” which would “enable an increasing number of people to participate in the highest benefits of civilisation.”[937] At the same time the members of the congress determined upon the establishment of the Verein für Sozialpolitik, an association charged with the task of procuring the necessary scientific material for this new political development. This was the beginning of the “Socialism of the Chair,” as it was derisively named by the Liberals on account of the great number of professors who took part in this conference. The same doctrine, with a somewhat more radical bias, became known as State Socialism. The imparting of such a bias was the task undertaken by Wagner,[938] in his Grundlegung, which appeared in 1876.[939]
Difficult though the task may prove, we must try to distinguish between the work of the earlier economists and the special contributions made by the State Socialists. Like all doctrines that purport to sum up the aspirations of a group or an epoch and to supply a working agreement between principles in themselves irreconcilable, it lacks the definiteness of a purely individualistic or theoretical system. Its ideas are borrowed from various sources, but it is not always scrupulous in recognising this.
It is first and foremost a reaction, not against the fundamental ideas of the English Classical school, as is generally believed, but against the exaggerations of their second-grade disciples, the admirers of Bastiat and Cobden—known to us as the “Optimists” and styled the “Manchestrians” in Germany. The manifesto, drawn up by Professor Schmoller at the Eisenach Congress, speaks of the “Manchester school,” but makes no mention of the Classical writers.[940] It is true that a great many German writers regard the expressions “Smithianismus” and “Manchesterthum” as synonymous, but these are perhaps polemical exaggerations upon which we ought not to lay too much stress. On the other hand, Liberalism had nowhere assumed such extravagant proportions as it had in Germany. Prince Smith, who is the best-known representative of Liberalism after Dunoyer, was convinced that the State had nothing to do beyond guaranteeing security, and denied that there was any element of solidarity between economic agents save such as results from the existence of a common market. “The economic community, as such, is a community built upon the existence of a market, and it has no facility to offer other than free access to a market.”[941]
The State Socialists, on the contrary, are of opinion that there exists a moral solidarity which is much more fundamental than any economic tie between the various individuals and classes of the same nation—such solidarity as results from the possession of a common language, similar manners, and a uniform political constitution. The State is the organ of this moral solidarity, and because of this title it has no right to remain indifferent to the material poverty of a part of the nation. It has something to do besides protecting people against internal or external violence. It has a real work of “civilisation and well-being”[942] which it ought to perform. In this way State Socialism becomes reconciled to the philosophic standpoint which Lassalle had chosen for it. Lassalle’s insistence upon the mission of Governments and the importance of their historic rôle has been incorporated into its system, and the attention that is paid to national considerations reminds one of the teaching of Friedrich List.
It is impossible not to ask whether the State is capable of carrying out the duties that have been entrusted to it. There is little use in emphasising duty where there is no capacity for discharging it. The State’s incapacity as an economic agent has long been a notorious fact. Wagner and his friends were particularly anxious to correct this false impression, and as far as their doctrine contains anything original it may most conveniently be described as an attempt to rehabilitate the State. Optimists of Bastiat’s genre looked upon the State as the very incarnation of incapacity. The State Socialists, on the other hand, regard government as an economic agent very similar to other agents which the community employs, only a little more sympathetic perhaps. Much of their argument consists of an attempt to create a presumption in favour of government as against the ordinarily accepted opinion which individualism had begotten. Such was the nature of the task which they undertook.
Their first action was to insist upon the weaknesses of individuals. Following in the wake of Sismondi and other socialists, they emphasised the social inconveniences of competition, which is, however, generally confused with individual liberty.[943] They also insisted upon the social inequality of masters and workers when it comes to a question of wage-bargaining—a fact that had already been noted by Adam Smith—as well as upon the universal opposition that exists between the weak and the strong. The inadequacy of merely individual effort to satisfy certain collective wants is another fact that was considerably emphasised.
As far back as the year 1856 Dupont-White, a Frenchman, had complained bitterly that all the paths of civilisation remained closed merely because of the existence of one obstacle—the infirmity and malignity of the individual.[944] He also attempted to show how the collective interests of modern society are becoming increasingly complex in character and of such magnitude as to be utterly beyond the compass of individual thought.[945] “There are,” says he in that excellent formula in which he summarises the instances in which State intervention may be necessary, “certain vital things which the individual can never do, either because he has not the necessary strength to perform them or because they would not pay him; or, again, because they require the co-operation of everybody, which can never be got merely by common consent. The State is the one person—the entrepreneur—who can undertake such tasks.”[946] But his words went unheeded.
Writing in a similar vein, Wagner invokes the testimony of history in support of his State doctrine, showing us how the State’s functions vary from one period to another, so that one never feels certain about prescribing limits to its action. Individual interest, private charity, and the State have always had to divide the field of activity between them. Never has the first of these, taken by itself, proved sufficient, and in all the great modern states its place is taken by State action. To conclude that this solution was useful and necessary and in accordance with the true law of historical development only involved one further step.[947] One almost unconsciously proceeds from the mere statement of a fact to the definite formulation of a law. “Anyone,” says Wagner, “who has appreciated the immanent tendencies of evolution (i.e. the essential features of economic, social, or political evolution) may very properly proceed from such a historical conception of social evolution to the formulation of postulates relative to what ought to be.”[948] In virtue of this conception there is a demand for the extension of the State’s functions, which may easily be justified on the ground of its capacity for furthering the well-being and civilisation of the community. The influence of Rodbertus’s thought, especially his theory concerning the development of governmental organs to meet the needs of a higher social development,[949] is quite unmistakable in this connection.
The similarity between his views and those of Dupont-White, though entirely fortuitous, perhaps, is sufficiently remarkable to justify our calling attention to it. White is equally emphatic in his demand that the State should exercise charity and act beneficently.[950] He shows how the modern State has extended its dominion, substituting local government for class dominion and parental despotism, taking women, children, and slaves successively under its care, and adding to its duties and responsibilities in proportion as civilisation grows and liberty broadens downward. Fresh life requires more organs, new forces demand new regulations. But the ruler and the organ of society is the State.[951] In a moment of enthusiasm he even goes so far as to declare that “the State is simply man minus his passions; man at such a stage of development that he can commune even with truth itself, fearing neither God nor his own conscience. However imperfect it may be, the State is still vastly superior to the individual.”[952] Such writing is not without a touch of mysticism.
Without going the extent of admitting, as M. Wagner would have us do, that the simple demonstration of the truth of historical evolution is enough to justify his policy, we must commend State Socialism for the service it has performed in combating the Liberal contempt for government. If we admit the right of a central power to regulate social relations, it is difficult to understand why certain economic relations only should be subjected to such supervision.
But the real difficulty, even when the principle is fully recognised, is to define the spheres that should respectively belong to the State and to the individual. How far, within what limits, and according to what rules should the State intervene? We must at any rate, as Wagner says, begin with a rough distribution of attributes. It is impossible to proceed by any other method unless we are to assume, as the collectivists seem to do, a radical change in human psychology resulting in the complete substitution of a solicitude for the public welfare for private interest.
Dupont-White thought the problem insoluble,[953] and Wagner is equally emphatic about the impossibility of formulating an absolute rule. The statesman must decide each case on its merits. He does, however, lay down a few general rules. As a first general principle it is clear that the State can never completely usurp the place of the individual.[954] It can only concern itself with the general conditions of his development. The personal activity of the individual must for ever remain the essential spring of economic progress. The principle is apparently the same as Stuart Mill’s, but there is quite a marked difference between them. Mill wished to curtail individual effort as little as possible, Wagner to extend Government action as much as he could. Mill insists throughout upon the negative rôle of Government; Wagner emphasises the positive side, and claims that it should help an ever-increasing proportion of the population to share in the benefits of civilisation. No inconvenience, Wagner thinks, would result from a little more communism in our social life. “National economy should be transferred from the control of the individual to the control of the community in general,” he writes, in a sentence that might have been borrowed directly from Rodbertus.[955] Both he and Mill are agreed that the limit of Government action must be placed just at that point where it threatens to cramp individual development.[956]
The practical application of these ideas would affect both the production and the distribution of wealth. But on this question State Socialism has done little more than seize hold of ideas that were current long before its day.
In the matter of distribution it takes exactly the same standpoint as Sismondi. There is no condemnation either of profits or interest as a matter of principle, such as is the case with the Socialists, nor is there any suggestion of doing away with private property as the fundamental institution of society; but there is the expression of a desire for a more exact correspondence between income and effort[957] and for such a limitation of profits as the economic conjuncture will allow of, and, on the other hand, for such an increase of wages as will permit of a more humane existence. It is impossible to disguise the fact that all this sounds very vague.[958]
The State would thus undertake to see that distribution conformed to the moral sentiment of each period. Taxation was to be employed as the instrument of such reforms. Dupont-White, in his Capital et Travail,[959] which was written as early as the year 1847, had hit upon the precise formula in which to describe these projects: “To levy a tax such as will strike the higher classes and to apply the yield to help and reward labour.” Wagner says just the same thing. “Logically State Socialism must undertake two tasks which are closely connected with one another. In the first place it must raise the lower strata of the working classes at the expense of the higher classes, and in the second place it must put a check upon the excessive accumulation of wealth among certain strata of society or by certain members of the propertied classes.”[960]
In the matter of production State Socialism has simply been content to reproduce the list given by Mill, Chevalier, and Cournot of the cases in which there is no economic principle against the direct control or management of an industrial enterprise by the State. Speaking generally, Wagner is of the opinion that the State should take upon itself the control of such industries as are of a particularly permanent or universal character, or such as require either uniform or specialised methods of control or are likely to become monopolies in the hands of private individuals. The same argument would apply to industries satisfying some general want, but in which it is almost impossible to determine the exact advantage which the consumer derives from them. The State administration of rivers, forests, roads, and canals, the nationalisation of railways and banks, and the municipalisation of water and gas, are justified on the same grounds.
Such are the essential features of State Socialism, which bases its appeal, not on any precise criticism of property or of unearned income, such as we are accustomed to get from the socialists, but entirely upon moral and national considerations. A juster distribution of wealth and a higher well-being for the working classes appear to be the only methods of maintaining that national unity of which the State is the representative. But it neither specifies the rules of justice nor indicates the limits of the ameliorative process. The fostering of collective effort affords another means of developing moral solidarity and of limiting purely selfish action; but the maintenance of private property and individual initiative seemed indispensable to the growth of production—a consideration which renders it inimical to collectivism. Its moral character explains the contrast between the precise nature of some of its positive demands and the somewhat vague character of its general principles, which may be applied to a greater or lesser extent according to individual preferences. It is impossible to deny the essentially subjective character of its criteria, and this affords some indication of the vigorous criticism offered by the economists, who are above all anxious for scientific exactitude, and the measure of enthusiasm with which it has been welcomed by all practical reformers. It forms a kind of cross-roads where social Christianity, enlightened conservatism, progressive democracy, and opportunistic socialism all come together.
But its success was due not so much to the value of its principles as to the peculiar nature of the political and economic evolution toward the end of the century. Its most conspicuous representative in Germany was Prince Bismarck, who was totally indifferent to any theory of State Socialism, and who preferred to justify his policy by an appeal to the principles of Christianity or the Prussian Landrecht.[961] One of his great ambitions was to consolidate and cement the national unity which he had succeeded in creating. A system of national insurance financed and controlled by the State appealed to him as the best way of weaning the working classes from revolutionary socialism by giving them some positive proof of the sympathy of the Government in the shape of pecuniary interest in the welfare of the empire. In a somewhat similar fashion the French peasant became attached to the Revolution through the sale of national property. “I consider,” says Bismarck, speaking of invalidity insurance, “that it is a tremendous gain for us to have 700,000 annuitants among the very people who think they have nothing to lose, but who sometimes wrongly imagine that they might gain something by a change. These individuals would lose anything from 115 to 200 marks, which just keeps them above water. It is not much, perhaps, but it answers the purpose admirably.”[962] Such was the origin of those important laws dealing with sickness, accidents, invalidity, and old age which received the imperial seal between 1881 and 1889. But just because the Chancellor did not consider that there was the same pecuniary advantage to be derived from labour laws in the narrow sense of the term—that is, in laws regulating the duration of labour, Sunday rest, the inspection of factories, etc.—he was less favourably inclined towards their extension. The personal predilection of the Emperor William II, as expressed in the famous decrees of February 4, 1890, was needed to give the Empire a new impetus in this direction.
Accordingly it was the intelligent conservatism of a Government almost absolute in its power, but possessed of no definitely social creed, that set about realising a part of the programme of the State Socialists. In England and France and the other countries where political liberty is an established fact similar measures have been carried out at the express wish of an awakening democracy. The working classes are beginning to find out how to utilise for their own profit the larger share of government which they have recently secured. Progressive taxation, insurance, protective measures for workmen, more frequent intervention of Government with a view to determining the conditions of labour, are just the expressions of a tendency that operates independently of any preconceived plan.
The regulation of the relationship between masters and workmen gave to State Socialism a legislative bias. Governments and municipalities have long since extended their intervention to the domain of production, the new character of social life rather than any social theory being again the determining motive. Public works, such as canals, roads, and railways, have multiplied enormously in the course of the nineteenth century, thanks to the existence of new productive forces. The demand for public services has increased because of the increasing concentration of population. Communal life keeps encroaching upon what was formerly an isolated, dispersive existence, and community of interest is extending its sway in village and borough as well as in the great city and the nation at large. Industry also is being gradually linked together, and the area of free competition is perforce becoming narrower. In the labour market, as well as in the produce and the money markets, concentration has taken the place of dispersion. Monopoly is everywhere. Collective enterprise, instead of being the exception, tends to be the rule, and public opinion is gradually being reconciled to the idea of seeing the State—the “collective being” par excellence—becoming in its turn industrial.
Under conditions such as these it was impossible that the doctrine of State Socialism should not influence public opinion.
State Socialism has the peculiar merit of being able to translate the confused aspirations of a new epoch in the history of politics and economics into practical maxims without arousing the suspicions of the public to the extent that socialism generally does. Legislators and public men generally have been supplied with the necessary arguments with which to defend the inauguration of that new policy upon which they had secretly set their hearts. A common ground of action is found for parties that are generally opposed to one another and for temperaments that are usually incompatible. That is the outstanding merit of a doctrine that seems eminently suitable for the attainment of tangible results.
And so by a curious inversion of functions by no means exceptional in the history of thought, State Socialism at the end of the century finds itself playing the part of its great adversary, the Liberal Optimism of the early century. One of the outstanding merits of that earlier Liberalism was the preparation it afforded for a policy of enfranchisement or liberty, which was absolutely necessary for the development of the industrial régime. And so it became the interpreter of the great economic currents of the time. In pursuance of this exclusive task all traces of its scientific origin disappeared, the elaboration of economic theory was neglected, and the habit of close reasoning so essential to systematic thinking was abandoned. In a somewhat similar manner State Socialism has become the creed of all those who desire to put an end to the abuses of economic liberty in its extremer aspects, or such as are generally concerned about the miserable condition of an increasing number of the working classes. Absorbed in immediate matters of this kind, the promoters of State Socialism have managed to influence practical politics without shedding much light upon economic theory. And now they in their turn find their system threatened by the fate which awaits all political doctrines. Even at the present moment one is tempted to ask whether this growing multiplicity of State function is not in danger of arousing on the part of consumers, entrepreneurs, and workmen a general feeling of contempt for the economic capacity of the State.
In conclusion, we must note another characteristic fact. Whereas during the greater part of the nineteenth century the attacks of Socialism were directed against Liberalism and economic orthodoxy, Neo-Marxian syndicalism is concentrating its attention almost exclusively upon State Socialism. Sorel emphasises the similarity that exists between Marxism and Manchesterism, and on more then one point he finds himself in agreement with a “Liberal” like Pareto. On the other hand, no words are sufficiently vigorous to express his condemnation of the partisans of social peace and interventionism, which appear to him to corrupt the working classes. Syndicalist working men have on more than one occasion shown their contempt for the State by refusing to avail themselves of measures passed on their behalf—old-age pensions, for example. This attitude is perhaps due to the influence of the anarchists upon the leaders of French syndicalism.
The fusion of these two currents of ideas—the Neo-Marxian and the anarchist—and their effect in turning the attention of the French working classes away from State Socialism, is an interesting fact whose political results will by no means prove negligible.[963]
CHAPTER III: MARXISM
I: KARL MARX[964]
Everyone knows of the spell cast over the socialism of the last forty years by the doctrines of Karl Marx and the contempt with which this newer so-called scientific socialism refers to the earlier or Utopian kind. But what is even more striking than the success of Marxian socialism is its want of sympathy with the heretical doctrines of its predecessors the Communists and Fourierists, and the pride it takes in regarding itself as a mere development or rehabilitation of the great Classical tradition.
To give within the limits of a single chapter a résumé of a doctrine that claims to review and to reconstruct the whole of economic theory is clearly impossible, and we shall merely attempt an examination of two of Marx’s more essential doctrines, namely, his theory of surplus labour and value and his law of automatic appropriation, more familiarly but less accurately known as the law of concentration of capital. The first is based upon a particular conception of exchange value and the second upon a special theory of economic evolution. To employ Comtean phraseology, the one belongs to the realm of economic statics, the other to the domain of economic dynamics.
1. Surplus Labour and Surplus Value
The laborious demonstration which follows will become clearer if we remind ourselves of the objects Marx had in view. Marx’s aim was to show how the propertied class had always lived upon the labour of the non-propertied classes—the possessors upon the non-possessing. This was by no means a new idea, as we have already made its acquaintance in the writings of Sismondi, Saint-Simon, Proudhon, and Rodbertus. But the essence of the criticism of these writers was always social rather than economic, the institution of private property and its injustice being the chief object of attack. Karl Marx, on the other hand, deliberately directed the gravamen of the charge against economic science itself, especially against the conception of exchange. He endeavours to prove that what we call exploitation must always exist, that it is an inevitable outcome of exchange—an economic necessity to which both master and man must submit.
It is convenient to begin with an examination of economic value. Marx lays down the doctrine that labour is not merely the measure and cause of value, but that it is also its substance. We have already had occasion to note how Ricardo was somewhat favourably inclined to the same view, though hardly willing to adopt it. There is no such hesitation on the part of Marx: it is all accepted in a characteristically thorough fashion. Of course, he does not deny that utility is a necessary condition of value and that it is really the only consideration in the case of “value in use.” But utility alone is not enough to explain value in exchange, since every act of exchange implies some common element, some degree of identity between the exchanged commodities. This identity is certainly not the result of utility, because the degree of utility is different in every commodity, and it is this difference that constitutes the raison d’être of exchange. The common or homogeneous element which is contained in commodities themselves heterogeneous in character is the quantity of labour, great or small, which is contained in them. The value of every commodity is simply the amount of crystallized human labour which it contains, and commodities differ in value according to the different quantities of labour which are “socially necessary to produce them.”[965]
Let us take the case of a working man, an employee in any kind of industry, working ten hours a day.
What will be the exchange value of the produce of his labour? It will be the equivalent of ten hours’ labour, whether the commodity produced be cloth or coal or what not. And since the master or the capitalist, as Marx always calls him, in accordance with the terms of the wage bargain, reserves for himself the right of disposing of that commodity, he sells it at its real value, which is the equivalent of ten hours’ labour.
The worker himself is cut off with a wage which simply represents the price which the capitalist pays for his labour force (Arbeitskraft), and the capitalist reserves to himself the right of disposing of the commodity at his own good pleasure. Its value is determined in the same way as that of every other exchangeable commodity. Labour-force or manual labour is just a commodity, and its value is determined by the number of hours of labour necessary for its production.[966]
“The quantity of labour necessary to produce the labour-force” is a somewhat formidable expression, and it is very difficult for any one who is beginning a study of Marx to appreciate its significance, but it is very essential that we should try, since everything turns upon a clear understanding of this phrase. But it is really not so mysterious after all. Suppose that instead of the labour of an artisan we take the work of a machine. No engineer would be surprised if we asked him the running expenses of that machine, and he might reply that it was costing one or two tons of coal per hour or eight or twelve per diem; and since the value of the coal merely represents a certain amount of human labour on the part of the coal-miner, there would be no difficulty in expressing it in terms of labour. Under the wage system the labourer is simply a machine, differing from the latter merely in the smaller quantity of wealth which he produces. The value of an hour’s labour or a day’s toil can be measured by the quantity of necessaries required to keep the worker in full productive efficiency during that period. Every employer who pays wages in kind—which is still the case in agriculture—always makes that kind of calculation, and even when the worker is paid a money wage things are much the same, for the money simply represents the cost of those necessaries.
Let us proceed a step farther. The value of the commodities necessary for the upkeep of labour is never equal to the value of the produce of that labour. In the instance given it would not equal the value of ten hours’ labour—perhaps not even five. Human labour under normal conditions always produces more than the mere value of the goods consumed.[967]