Moreover, the condition of the labourer does not depend upon one economic law, but upon all. To become acquainted with that condition, to discover the prospects and the future of the labourer, this is Political Economy; for what other object could that science have in view? . . . But I am wrong—we have still spoliators. What causes the equivalence of services? Liberty. What impairs that equivalence? Oppression. Such is the circle we have still to traverse.
As regards the condition of that class of labourers who execute the more immediate work of production, it cannot be appreciated until we are in a situation to discover in what manner the law of [p307] Competition is combined with that of Wages and Population, and also with the disturbing effects of unequal taxes and monopolies.
I shall add but a few words on the subject of Competition. It is very clear that it has no natural tendency to diminish the amount of the enjoyments which are distributed over society. Does Competition tend to make this distribution unequal? If there be anything evident in the world, it is that after having, if I may so express myself, attached to each service, to each value, a larger proportion of utility, Competition labours incessantly to level the services themselves, to render them proportional to efforts. Is Competition not the spur which urges men into profitable branches of industry, and urges them out of those which are unprofitable? Its proper action, then, is to realize equality more and more, by elevating the social level.
Let us not misunderstand each other, however, on this word equality. It does not imply that all men are to have the same remuneration, but that they are to have a remuneration proportioned to the quantity, and even to the quality of their efforts.
A multitude of circumstances contribute to render the remuneration of labour unequal (I speak here only of free labour, subject to Competition); but if we look at it more narrowly, we shall find that this fancied inequality, almost always just and necessary, is in reality nothing else than substantial equality.
Cæteris paribus, there are larger profits in those trades which are attended with danger than in those which are not so; in those which require a lengthened apprenticeship, and expensive training long unremunerated—which imply the patient exercise of certain domestic virtues—than in those where mere muscular exertion is sufficient; in professions which demand a cultivated mind and refined taste, than in trades which require mere brute force. Is not all this just? Now, Competition establishes necessarily these distinctions—and society has no need of the assistance of Fourier or Louis Blanc in the matter.
Of all these circumstances, that which operates in the greatest number of cases is the inequality of instruction. Now here, as everywhere else, we find Competition exerting its twofold action, levelling classes, and elevating society.
If we suppose society to be composed of two layers or strata, placed one above another, in one of which the intelligent principle prevails, and in the other the principle of brute force; and if we study the natural relations of these two layers, we shall easily discover a force of attraction in the one, and a force of aspiration in the other, which co-operate towards their fusion. The very inequality [p308] of profits breathes into the inferior ranks an inextinguishable ardour to mount to the region of ease and leisure; and this ardour is seconded by the superior knowledge which distinguishes the higher classes. The methods of teaching are improved; books fall in price; instruction is acquired in less time, and at a smaller cost; science, formerly monopolized by a class or a caste, and veiled in a dead language, or sealed up in hieroglyphics, is written and printed in the vulgar tongue; it pervades the atmosphere, if I may use the expression, and is breathed as freely as the air of heaven.
Nor is this all. At the same time that an education more universal and more equal brings the two classes of society into closer approximation, some very important economic phenomena, which are connected with the great law of Competition, come to aid and accelerate their fusion. The progress of the mechanical arts diminishes continually the proportion of manual labour. The division of labour, by simplifying and separating each of the operations which concur in a productive result, brings within the reach of all, branches of industry which could formerly be engaged in only by a few. Moreover, a great many employments which required at the outset much knowledge and varied acquirements, fall, by the mere lapse of time, into routine, and come within the sphere of action of classes generally the least instructed, as has happened in the case of agriculture. Agricultural processes, which in ancient times procured to their discoverers the honours of an apotheosis, are now inherited and almost monopolized by the rudest of men; and to such a degree, that this important branch of human industry is, so to speak, entirely withdrawn from the well-educated classes.
From the preceding observations it is possible that a false conclusion may be drawn. It may be said—“We perceive, indeed, that Competition lowers remuneration in all countries, in all departments of industry, in all ranks, and levels, by reducing, it; but in that case the wages of unskilled labour, of physical exertion, must become the type, the standard, of all remuneration.”
I must have been misunderstood, if you have not perceived that Competition, which labours to bring down all excessive remuneration towards an average more and more uniform, raises necessarily this average. I grant that it pinches men in their capacity of producers, but in so doing it ameliorates the condition of the human race in the only way in which it can reasonably be elevated, namely, by an increase of material prosperity, ease, leisure, moral and intellectual improvement, in a word, by enlarging consumption. [p309]
Will it be said that, in point of fact, mankind have not made the progress that this theory seems to imply?
I answer, in the first place, that in modern society Competition is far from occupying the sphere of its natural action. Our laws run counter to it, at least in as great a degree as they favour its action; and when it is asked whether the inequality of conditions is owing to its presence or its absence, it is sufficient to look at the men who make the greatest figure among us, and dazzle us by the display of their scandalous wealth, in order to assure ourselves that inequality, so far as it is artificial and unjust, has for foundation conquests, monopolies, restrictions, privileged offices, functions, and places, ministerial trafficking, public borrowing,—all things with which Competition has nothing to do.
Moreover, I believe we have overlooked the real progress which mankind have made since the very recent epoch to which we must assign the partial enfranchisement of labour. It has been justly said that much philosophy is needed in order to discern facts which are continually passing before us. We are not astonished at what an honest and laborious family of the working class daily consumes, because habit has made us familiar with this strange phenomenon. If, however, we compare the comfortable circumstances in which such a family finds itself, with the condition in which it would be placed under a social order which excluded Competition—if statisticians, armed with an instrument of sufficient precision, could measure, as with a dynamometer, the relation of a working man’s labour to his enjoyments at two different periods, we should acknowledge that liberty, restrained as it still is, has accomplished in his favour a prodigy which its very permanency hinders us from remarking. The contingent of human efforts which, in relation to a given result, has been annihilated, is truly incalculable. Time was when the artisan’s day’s labour would not have sufficed to procure him the most trumpery almanac. At the present day, for a halfpenny, or the fiftieth part of his day’s wages, he can obtain a gazette containing the matter of a volume. The same might be said of clothing, locomotion, carriage, lighting, and a multitude of other satisfactions. To what is this result owing? To this, that an enormous proportion of human labour, which had formerly to be paid for, has been handed over to be performed by the gratuitous forces of nature. It is a value annihilated, and to be no longer recompensed. Under the action of Competition, it has been replaced by common and gratuitous utility. And it is worthy of remark, that when, in consequence of progress, the price of any commodity comes to fall, [p310] the labour saved to the poor purchaser in obtaining it is always proportionally greater than the labour saved to the rich purchaser. That is demonstrable.
In fine, this constantly increasing current of utilities which labour pours into all the veins of the body politic, and which Competition distributes, is not all summed up in an accession of wealth. It is absorbed, in great part, by the stream of advancing numbers. It resolves itself into an increase of population, according to laws which have an intimate affinity with the subject which now engages us, and which will be explained in another chapter.
Let us now stop for a moment and take a rapid glance at the ground over which we have just travelled.
Man has wants which are unlimited—desires which are insatiable. In order to provide for them he has materials and agents which are furnished to him by nature—faculties, instruments, all things which labour sets in motion. Labour is the resource which has been most equally distributed to all. Each man seeks instinctively, and of necessity, to avail himself to the utmost of the co-operation of natural forces, of talents natural and acquired, and of capital, in order that the result of this co-operation may be a greater amount of utilities produced, or, what comes to the same thing, a greater amount of satisfactions acquired. Thus, the more active co-operation of natural agents, the indefinite development of intelligence, the progressive increase of capital, give rise to this phenomenon (which at first sight seems strange)—that a given quantity of labour furnishes an always increasing amount of utilities, and that each man can, without despoiling anyone, obtain a mass of consumable commodities out of all proportion to what his own efforts could have realized.
But this phenomenon, which is the result of the divine harmony which Providence has established in the mechanism of society, would have been detrimental to society, by introducing the germ of indefinite inequality, had there not been combined with it a harmony no less admirable, namely, Competition, which is one of the branches of the great law of human solidarity.
In fact, were it possible for an individual, a family, a class, a nation, possessed of certain natural advantages, of an important discovery in manufactures, or of the instruments of production in the shape of accumulated capital, to be set permanently free from the law of Competition, it is evident that this individual, this family, this nation, would have for ever the monopoly of an exceptionally high remuneration, at the expense of mankind at large. In what situation should we be if the inhabitants of the tropical [p311] regions, set free from all rivalry with each other, could exact from us, in exchange for their sugar, their coffee, their cotton, their spices, not the equivalent of labour equal to their own, but an amount of labour equal to what we must ourselves undergo in order to produce these commodities under our inclement skies? What an incalculable distance would separate the various conditions of men, if the race of Cadmus alone could read, if the direct descendants of Triptolemus alone could handle the plough, if printing were confined to the family of Gutenberg, cotton-spinning to the children of Arkwright, and if the posterity of Watt could alone work the steam engine! Providence has not ordered things thus, but, on the contrary, has placed in the social machine a spring whose power is only less surprising than its simplicity—a spring by the operation of which all productive power, all superiority in manufacturing processes, in a word, all exclusive advantages, slip from the hands of the producer, having remained there, in the shape of exceptional remuneration, only long enough to excite his zeal, and come at length to enlarge the common and gratuitous patrimony of mankind, and resolve themselves into individual enjoyments always progressive, and more and more equally distributed—this spring is Competition. We have already seen its economical effects—and it now remains for us to take a rapid survey of its moral and political consequences. I shall confine myself to the more important of these.
Superficial thinkers have accused Competition of introducing antagonism among men. This is true and inevitable, if we consider men only in the capacity of producers, but, regarded from another point of view, as consumers, the matter appears in a very different light. You then see this very Competition binding together individuals, families, classes, nations, and races, in the bonds of universal fraternity.
Seeing that the advantages which appear at first to be the property of certain individuals become, by an admirable law of Divine beneficence, the common patrimony of all; seeing that the natural advantages of situation, of fertility, of temperature, of mineral riches, and even of manufacturing aptitude, slip in a short time from the hands of producers, by reason of their competition with each other, and turn exclusively to the profit of consumers, it follows that there is no country which is not interested in the advancement and prosperity of all other countries. Every step of progress made in the East is wealth in perspective for the West. Fuel discovered in the South warms the men of the North. Great Britain makes progress in her spinning mills; [p312] but her capitalists do not alone reap the profit, for the interest of money does not rise; nor do her operatives, for the wages of labour remain the same. In the long-run, it is the Russian, the Frenchman, the Spaniard; in a word, it is the human race, who obtain equal satisfactions at a less expense of labour, or, what comes to the same thing, superior satisfactions with equal labour.
I have spoken only of the advantages—I might say as much of the disadvantages—which affect certain nations and certain regions. The peculiar action of Competition is to render general what was before exclusive. It acts exactly on the principle of Insurance. A scourge visits the fields of the agriculturist, and the consumers of the bread are the sufferers. An unjust tax is laid upon the vines of France, and this means dear wine for all wine-drinkers. Thus, advantages and disadvantages, which have any permanence, only glance upon individuals, classes, or nations. Their providential destination in the long-run is to affect humanity at large, and elevate or lower the condition of mankind. Hence to envy a certain people the fertility of their soil, or the beauty of their harbours and rivers, or the warmth of their sun, is to overlook the advantages in which we are called to participate. It is to contemn the abundance which is offered to us. It is to regret the labour which is saved to us. Hence national jealousies are not only perverse feelings;—they are absurd. To hurt others is to injure ourselves. To place obstacles in the way of others—tariffs, wars, or workmen’s strikes—is to obstruct our own progress. Hence bad passions have their chastisement, just as generous sentiments have their reward. The inevitable sanction of an exact distributive justice addresses itself to men’s interests, enlightens opinion, proclaims and establishes among men these maxims of eternal truth: that the useful is one of the aspects of the just; that Liberty is the fairest of social Harmonies; and that Honesty is the best Policy.
Christianity has introduced into the world the grand principle of human fraternity. It addresses itself to our hearts, our feelings, our noble instincts. Political Economy recommends the same principle to our cool judgment; and, exhibiting the connexion of effects with their causes, reconciles in consoling harmony the vigilant calculations of interest with the inspirations of the sublimest morality.
A second consequence which flows from this doctrine is, that society is truly a Community. Messieurs Owen and Cabet may save themselves the trouble of seeking the solution of the great [p313] Communist problem—it is found already—it results not from their arbitrary combinations, but from the organization given by God to man, and to society. Natural forces, expeditive processes, instruments of production, everything is common among men, or has a tendency to become so, everything except pains, labour, individual effort. There is, and there can be, but one inequality—an inequality which Communists the most absolute must admit,—that which results from the inequality of efforts. These efforts are what are exchanged for one another at a price bargained for. All the utility which nature, and the genius of ages, and human foresight, have implanted in the commodities exchanged, we obtain into the bargain. Reciprocal remunerations have reference only to reciprocal efforts, whether actual under the name of Labour, or preparatory under the name of Capital. Here then is Community in the strictest sense of the word, unless we are to pretend that the personal share of enjoyment should be equal, although the quota of labour furnished is not so, which indeed would be the most iniquitous, the most monstrous, of inequalities,—I will add, the most fatal; for it would not destroy Competition—it would only give it a retrograde action. We should still compete, but the Competition would be a rivalry of idleness, stupidity, and improvidence.
In fine, the doctrine—so simple, and, as we think, so true—which we have just developed, takes the great principle of human perfectibility out of the domain of declamation, and transfers it to that of rigorous demonstration. This internal motive, which is never at rest in the bosom of the individual, but stirs him up to improve his condition, gives rise to the progress of art, which is nothing else than the progressive co-operation of forces, which from their nature call for no remuneration. To Competition is owing the concession to the community of advantages at first individually obtained. The intensity of the labour required for the production of each given result goes on continually diminishing, to the advantage of the human race, which thus sees the circle of its enjoyments and its leisure enlarging from one generation to another, whilst the level of its physical, intellectual, and moral improvement is raised; and by this arrangement, so worthy of our study and of our profound admiration, we behold mankind recovering the position they had lost.
Let me not be misunderstood, however. I do not say that all fraternity, all community, all perfectibility, are comprised and included in Competition. I say only that Competition is allied and combined with these three great social dogmas—that it forms part [p314] of them, that it exhibits them, that it is one of the most powerful agents of their realization.
I have endeavoured to describe the general effects of Competition, and consequently its benefits, for it would be impious to suppose that any great law of nature should be at once hurtful and permanent; but I am far from denying that the action of Competition is accompanied with many hardships and sufferings. It appears to me that the theory which has just been developed explains at once those sufferings, and the inevitable complaints to which they give rise. Since the work of Competition consists in levelling, it must necessarily run counter to all who proudly attempt to rise above the general level. Each producer, in order to obtain the highest price for his labour, endeavours, as we have seen, to retain as long as possible the exclusive use of an agent, a process, or an instrument, of production. Now the proper mission and result of Competition being to withdraw this exclusive use from the individual, in order to make it common property, it is natural that all men, in their capacity of producers, should unite in a concert of maledictions against Competition. They cannot reconcile themselves to Competition otherwise than by taking into account their interests as consumers, and regarding themselves, not as members of a coterie or a corporation, but as men.
Political Economy, we must say, has not yet exerted herself sufficiently to dissipate this fatal illusion, which has been the source of so much heartburning, calamity, and irritation, and of so many wars. This science, from a preference not very philosophical, has exhausted her efforts in analyzing the phenomena of production. The very nomenclature of the science, in fact, convenient as it is, is not in harmony with its object. Agriculture, manufactures, commerce, may be an excellent classification, when the object is to describe the processes of art; but that description, however essential in technology, has little connexion with social economy;—I should even say that it is positively dangerous. When we have classed men as agriculturists, manufacturers, and merchants, of what can we speak but of their class interests, of those special interests to which Competition is antagonistic, and which are placed in opposition to the general good? It is not for the sake of agriculturists that agriculture exists, of manufacturers that we have manufactures, or of merchants that we have exchanges, but in order that men should have at their disposal the greatest amount of commodities of every kind. Consumption, its laws, what favours it, and renders it equitable and moral—that is the interest which is truly social, and which truly affects the human [p315] race. It is the interest of the consumer which constitutes the real object of Political Economy, and upon which the science should concentrate its clearest lights. This, in truth, forms the bond which unites classes, nations, races—it is the principle and explanation of human fraternity. It is with regret, then, that we see Economists expending their talents and sagacity on the anatomy of production, and throwing into the fag-end of their books, or into supplementary chapters, a few common-places on the phenomena of consumption. Have we not even seen a justly celebrated professor suppressing entirely that branch of the science, confining himself to the means, without ever speaking of the result, and banishing from his course everything in connexion with the consumption of wealth, as pertaining, in his opinion, to morals rather than to Political Economy? Can we be surprised that men are more struck with the inconveniences of Competition than with its advantages, since the former affect them specially as producers,—in which character they are constantly considered and talked of; while the latter affect them only in their capacity of consumers,—a capacity which is altogether disregarded and overlooked?
I repeat that I do not deny or ignore, on the contrary I deplore as much as any one can, the sufferings attendant on Competition; but is this any reason for shutting our eyes to its advantages? And it is all the more consoling to observe these advantages, inasmuch as I believe Competition, like all the great laws of nature, to be indestructible. Had it been otherwise, it would assuredly have succumbed to the universal resistance which all the men who have ever co-operated in the production of commodities since the beginning of the world have offered to it, and more especially it would have perished under the levée en masse of our modern reformers. But if they have been foolish enough to attempt its destruction, they have not been strong enough to effect it.
And what progressive principle, I would ask, is to be found in the world, the beneficent action of which is not mingled, especially in the beginning, with suffering and misery? The massing together of human beings in vast agglomerations is favourable to boldness and independence of thought, but it frequently sets private life free from the wholesome restraint of public opinion, and gives shelter to debauchery and crime. Wealth and leisure united give birth to mental cultivation, but they also give birth to pride and luxury among the rich, and to irritation and covetousness among the poor. The art of printing brings home knowledge and truth to all ranks of society, but it has brought also afflicting doubt and subversive error. Political liberty has unchained [p316] tempests and revolutions, and has modified the simple manners of primitive nations, to such a decree as to induce thinking men to ask themselves whether they would not have preferred tranquillity under the cold shade of despotism. Christianity herself has cast the noble seed of love and charity into a soil saturated with the blood of martyrs.
Why has it entered into the designs of Infinite Goodness and Justice that the happiness of one region or of one era should be purchased at the expense of the sufferings of another region or of another era? What is the Divine purpose which is concealed under this great law of solidarity, of which Competition is only one of the mysterious aspects? Human science cannot answer. What we do know is this, that good always goes on increasing, and that evil goes on diminishing. From the beginning of the social state, such as conquest had made it, when there existed only masters and slaves, and the inequality of conditions was extreme, the work of Competition in approximating ranks, fortunes, intelligences, could not be accomplished without inflicting individual hardships, the intensity of which, however, as the work proceeded, has gone on diminishing, like the vibrations of sound and the oscillations of the pendulum. To the sufferings yet in reserve for them, men learn every day to oppose two powerful remedies—namely, foresight, which is the fruit of knowledge and experience; and association, which is organized foresight.
In the first part of this work—alas! too hastily written—I have endeavoured to keep the reader’s attention fixed upon the line of demarcation, always flexible, but always marked, which separates the two regions of the economic world—natural co-operation, and human labour—the bounty of God, and the work of man—the gratuitous, and the onerous—that which in exchange is remunerated, and that which is transferred without remuneration—aggregate utility, and the fractional and supplementary utility which constitutes value—absolute wealth, and relative wealth—the co-operation of chemical or mechanical forces, constrained to aid production by the instruments which render them available, and the just recompense of the labour which has created these instruments themselves—Community and Property.
It is not enough to mark these two orders of phenomena which are so essentially different, it is necessary also to describe their relations, and, if I may so express myself, their harmonious evolutions. I have essayed to explain how the business of Property consists in conquering utility for the human race, and, casting it [p317] into the domain of Community, to move on to new conquests—so that each given effort, and consequently the aggregate of efforts, should continually be delivering over to mankind satisfactions which are always increasing. Human services exchanged, while preserving their relative value, become the vehicle of an always increasing proportion of utility which is gratuitous, and, therefore, common; and in this consists progress. The possessors of value, then, whatever form it assumes, far from usurping and monopolizing the gifts of God, multiply these gifts, without causing them to lose the character which Providence has affixed to them, of being—Gratuitous.
In proportion as the satisfactions which are handed over by progress to the charge of nature fall by that very fact into the domain of Community, they become equal—it being impossible for us even to conceive inequality except in the domain of human services, which are compared, appreciated, and estimated with a view to an exchange; whence it follows that Equality among men is necessarily progressive. It is so, likewise, in another respect, the action of Competition having for its inevitable result to level and equalize the services themselves, and to bring their recompense more and more into proportion with their merit.
Let us now throw a glance back on the ground over which we have passed.
By the light of the theory, the foundation of which has been laid in the present volume, we shall have to investigate:
The relations of man with the Economic phenomena, in his capacity of producer, and in his character of consumer;
The law of Rent;
That of Wages;
That of Credit;
That of Taxation, which, introducing us into the domain of Politics, properly so called, will lead us to compare those services which are private and voluntary with those which are public and compulsory;
The law of Population.
We shall then be in a situation to solve some practical problems which are still disputed—Free-trade, Machinery, Luxury, Leisure, Association, Organization of Labour, etc.
I hesitate not to say, that the result of this exposition may be expressed beforehand in these terms: The constant approximation of all men towards a level which is always rising—in other terms: Improvement and Equalization; in a single word, Harmony.
Such is the definitive result of the arrangements of Providence—of [p318] the great laws of nature—when they act without impediment, when we regard them as they are in themselves, and apart from any disturbance of their action by error and violence. On beholding this Harmony, the Economist may well exclaim, like the astronomer who regards the planetary movements, or the physiologist who contemplates the structure and arrangement of the human organs—Digitus Dei est hic!
But man is a free agent, and consequently fallible. He is subject to ignorance and to passion. His will, which is liable to err, enters as an element into the play of the economic laws. He may misunderstand them, forget them, divert them from their purpose. As the physiologist, after admiring the infinite wisdom displayed in the structure and relations of our organs and viscera, studies these organs likewise in their abnormal state when sickly and diseased, we shall have to penetrate into a new world—the world of social Disturbances.
We shall pave the way for this new study by some considerations on man himself. It would be impossible for us to give an account of social evil, of its origin, its effects, its design—of the limits, always more and more contracted, within which it is shut up by its own action (which constitutes what I might almost venture to call a harmonic dissonance), did we not extend our investigation to the necessary consequences of Free-Will, to the errors of Self-Interest, which are constantly corrected, and to the great laws of human Responsibility and Solidarity.
We have seen the germ of all the social Harmonies included in these two principles—Property, Liberty. We shall see that all social Dissonances are only the development of these two antagonistic principles—Spoliation, Oppression.
The words Property and Liberty, in fact, express only two aspects of the same idea. In an economical point of view, Liberty is allied to the act of production—Property to the things produced. And since Value has its foundation in the human act, we may conclude that Liberty implies and includes Property. The same relation exists between Oppression and Spoliation.
Liberty! here at length we have the principle of harmony. Oppression! here we have the principle of dissonance. The struggle of these two powers fills the annals of the human race.
And as the design of Oppression is to effect an unjust appropriation, as it resolves itself into and is summed up in spoliation, it is Spoliation that must form the subject of our inquiry.
Man comes into this world bound to the yoke of Want, which is pain. [p319]
He cannot escape from it but by subjecting himself to the yoke of Labour, which is pain also.
He has, then, only a choice of pains, and he detests pain.
This is the reason why he looks around him, and if he sees that his fellow-man has accumulated wealth, he conceives the thought of appropriating it. Hence comes false property, or Spoliation.
Spoliation! here we have a new element in the economy of society.
From the day when it first made its appearance in the world down to the day when it shall have completely disappeared, if that day ever come, this element has affected and will affect profoundly the whole social mechanism; it will disturb, and to the extent of rendering them no longer recognisable, those laws of social harmony which we have endeavoured to discover and describe.
Our duty, then, will not have been accomplished until we have completed the monography of Spoliation.
It may be imagined that we have here to do with an accidental and exceptional fact, a transient derangement unworthy of the investigations of science.
But in truth it is not so. On the contrary, Spoliation, in the traditions of families, in the history of nations, in the occupations of individuals, in the physical and intellectual energies of classes, in the schemes and designs of governments, occupies nearly as prominent a place as Property itself.
No; Spoliation is not an ephemeral scourge, affecting accidentally the social mechanism, and which economical science may disregard as exceptional.
The sentence pronounced upon man in the beginning was, In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread. Whence it appears that effort and satisfaction are indissolubly united, and that the one must be always the recompense of the other. But on all sides we find man revolting against this law, and saying to his brother, Thine be the labour, and mine the fruit of that labour.
Repair to the hut of the savage hunter, or to the tent of the nomad shepherd, and what spectacle meets your eyes? The wife, lank, pale, disfigured, affrighted, prematurely old, bears the whole burden of the household cares, while the man lounges in idleness. What idea can we form of family Harmonies? The idea has disappeared, for Strength here throws upon Feebleness the weight of labour. And how many ages of civilizing effort will be needed to raise the wife from this state of frightful degradation?
Spoliation, in its most brutal form, armed with torch and sword, [p320] fills the annals of the world. Of what names is history made up? Cyrus, Sesostris, Alexander, Scipio, Cæsar, Attila, Tamerlane, Mahomet, Pizarro, William the Conqueror—pure Spoliation from beginning to end in the shape of Conquest. Hers are the laurels, the monuments, the statues, the triumphal arches, the song of the poet, the intoxicating enthusiasm of the fair!
The Conqueror soon finds that he can turn his victories to more profitable account than by putting to death the vanquished; and Slavery covers the earth. Down to our own times, all over the world this has been the form in which societies have existed, bringing with it hates, resistance, internal struggles, and revolutions. And what is Slavery but organized oppression—organized for the purpose of Spoliation?
But Spoliation not only arms Force against Feebleness—she turns Intelligence against Credulity. What hard-working people in the world has escaped being sweated by sacerdotal theocracies, Egyptian priests, Greek oracles, Roman auguries, Gallic druids, Indian brahmins, muftis, ulemas, bonzes, monks, ministers, mountebanks, sorcerers, soothsayers,—spoliators of all garbs and of all denominations. Assuming this guise, Spoliation places the fulcrum of her lever in heaven, and sacrilegiously prides herself on the complicity of the gods! She enslaves not men’s limbs only, but their souls. She knows how to impress the iron of slavery as well upon the conscience of Séide65 as upon the forehead of Spartacus—realizing what would seem impossible—Mental Slavery.
Mental Slavery! what a frightful association of words! O Liberty! we have seen thee hunted from country to country, crushed by conquest, groaning under slavery, insulted in courts, banished from the schools, laughed at in saloons, misunderstood in workshops, denounced in churches. It seems thou shouldst find in thought an inviolable refuge. But if thou art to surrender in this thy last asylum, what becomes of the hopes of ages, and of what value is human existence?
At length, however, the progressive nature of man causes Spoliation to develop in the society in which it exists, resistance which paralyzes its force, and knowledge which unveils its impostures. But Spoliation does not confess herself conquered for all that; she only becomes more crafty, and, enveloping herself in the forms of government and in a system of checks and counterpoises, she gives birth to Politics, long a prolific resource. We then see her usurping the liberty of citizens, the better to get hold of their wealth, [p321] and draining away their wealth to possess herself more surely of their liberty. Private activity passes into the domain of public activity. Everything is transacted through functionaries, and an unintelligent and meddling bureaucracy overspreads the land. The public treasury becomes a vast reservoir into which labourers pour their savings, to be immediately distributed among placemen. Transactions are no longer regulated by free bargaining and discussion, and the mutuality of services disappears.
In this state of things the true notion of Property is extinguished, and every one appeals to the Law to give his services a factitious value.
We enter then upon the era of privileges. Spoliation, ever improving in subtilty, fortifies herself in Monopoly, and takes refuge behind Restrictions. She displaces the natural current of exchanges, and sends capital into artificial channels, and with capital, labour—and with labour, population. She gets painfully produced in the North what is produced with facility in the South; creates precarious classes and branches of industry; substitutes for the gratuitous forces of nature the onerous fatigues of labour; cherishes establishments which can sustain no rivalry, and invokes against competitors the employment of force; provokes international jealousies; flatters patriotic arrogance; and invents ingenious theories, which make auxiliaries of her own dupes. She constantly renders imminent industrial crises and bankruptcies, shakes to its foundation all confidence in the future, all faith in liberty, all consciousness of what is just. At length, when science exposes her misdeeds, she stirs up against science her own victims, by proclaiming a Utopia! and ignores not only the science which places obstacles in her path, but the very idea of any possible science, by this crowning sentence of scepticism—There are no principles!
Under the pressure of suffering, at length the masses rise, and overturn everything which is above them. Government, taxes, legislation, everything is at their mercy, and you imagine perhaps that there is now an end to the reign of Spoliation;—that the mutuality of services is about to be established on the only possible or even imaginable basis—Liberty. Undeceive yourself. The fatal idea, alas! has permeated the masses, that Property has no other origin, no other sanction, no other legitimacy, no other foundation, than Law; and then the masses set to work legislatively to rob one another. Suffering from the wounds which have been inflicted upon them, they undertake to cure each of their members by conceding to him the right to oppress his neighbour, and call [p322] this Solidarity and Fraternity. “You have produced—I have not produced—we are solidaires—let us divide.” “You have something—I have nothing—we are brethren—let us share.” It will be our duty then to examine the improper use which has been made in these latter days of the terms association, organization, labour, gratuité du crédit, etc. We shall have to subject them to this test—Do they imply Liberty or Oppression? In other words, are they in unison with the great Economical laws, or are they disturbances of those laws?
Spoliation is a phenomenon too universal, too persistent, to permit us to attribute to it a character purely accidental. In this, as in many other matters, we cannot separate the study of natural laws from the study of their Perturbations.
But, it may be said, if spoliation enters necessarily into the play of the social mechanism as a dissonance, how can you venture to assert the Harmony of the Economic laws?
I must repeat here what I have said in another place, namely, that in all which concerns man, a being who is only perfectible because he is imperfect, Harmony consists, not in the absolute absence of evil, but in its gradual diminution. The social body, like the human body, is provided with a curative force, a vis medicatrix, the laws and infallible power of which it is impossible to study without again exclaiming, Digitus Dei est hic. [p323]
If the level of the human race is not continually rising, man is not a perfectible being.
If the social tendency is not a constant approximation of all men towards this progressive elevation, the economic laws are not harmonious.
Now, how can the level of humanity be rising, if each given quantity of labour does not yield a constantly increasing amount of enjoyments, a phenomenon which can be explained only by the transformation of onerous into gratuitous utility.
And, on the other hand, how can this utility, having become gratuitous, bring men nearer and nearer to a common level, if the utility has not at the same time itself become common?
Here, then, we discover the essential law of social harmony.
I should have been pleased had the language of Political Economy furnished me with two words other than the terms production and consumption, to designate services which are rendered and received. These terms savour too much of materiality. There are evidently services, like those of the clergyman, the professor, the soldier, the artist, which tend to the furtherance of morality, education, security, taste, which have nothing in common with mechanical or manufacturing industry, except this, that the end to be attained is satisfaction or enjoyment.
The terms I have referred to are those generally employed, and I have no wish to become a neologist. But let it be understood that by production I mean what confers utility, and by consumption the enjoyment to which that utility gives rise.
Let the protectionist school—which is in reality a phase of Communism—believe that in employing the terms producer and consumer we are not absurd enough to wish to represent the human race as divided into two distinct classes, the one engaged [p324] exclusively in the work of producing, the other exclusively in that of consuming. The naturalist divides the human race into whites and blacks, or into men and women, and the economist, forsooth, is not to classify them as producers and consumers, because, as the protectionist gentlemen sagely remark, producer and consumer make but one person!
Why, it is for the very reason that they do make but one that each individual comes to be considered by the science of Political Economy in this double capacity. Our business is not to divide the human race into two classes, but to study man under two very different aspects. If the protectionists were to forbid grammarians to employ the pronouns I and thou, on the pretext that every man is in turn the person speaking and the person spoken to, it would be a sufficient answer to say, that although it be perfectly true that we cannot place all the tongues on one side, and all the ears on the other, since every man has both ears and a tongue, it by no means follows that, with reference to each proposition enunciated, the tongue does not pertain to one man and the ear to another. In the same way, with reference to every service, the man who renders it is quite distinct from the man who receives it. The producer and consumer are always set opposite each other, so much so that they have always a controversy.
The very people who object to our studying mankind under the double aspect of producers and consumers have no difficulty in making this distinction when they address themselves to legislative assemblies. We then find them demanding monopoly or freedom of trade, according as the matter in dispute refers to a commodity which they sell, or a commodity which they purchase.
Without dwelling longer, then, on this preliminary exception taken by the protectionists, let us acknowledge that in the social order the separation of employments causes each man to occupy two situations, sufficiently distinct to render their action and relations worthy of our study.
In general, we devote ourselves to some special trade, profession, or career, and it is not from that particular source that we expect to derive our satisfactions. We render and receive services; we supply and demand values; we make purchases and sales; we work for others, and others work for us; in short, we are producers and consumers.
According as we present ourselves in the market in one or other of these capacities, we carry thither a spirit which is very different, or rather, I should say, very opposite. Suppose, for example, that corn is the subject of the transaction. The same man has very [p325] different views when he goes to market as a purchaser, from what he has when he goes there as a seller. As a purchaser, he desires abundance; as a seller, scarcity. In either case, these desires may be traced to the same source—personal interest; but as to sell or buy, to give or to receive, to supply or to demand, are acts as opposite as possible, they cannot but give rise, and from the same motive, to opposite desires.
Antagonistic desires cannot at one and the same time coincide with the general good.
In another work,66 I have endeavoured to show that the wishes or desires of men in their capacity of consumers are those which are in harmony with the public interest; and it cannot be otherwise. For seeing that enjoyment is the end and design of labour, and that the labour is determined only by the obstacle to be overcome, it is evident that labour is in this sense an evil, and that everything should tend to diminish it; that enjoyment is a good, and that everything should tend to increase it.
And here presents itself the great, the perpetual, the deplorable illusion which springs from the erroneous definition of value, and from confounding value with utility.
Value being simply a relation, is of as much greater importance to each individual as it is of less importance to society at large.
What renders service to the masses is utility alone; and value is not at all the measure of it.
What renders service to the individual is still only utility. But value is the measure of it; for, with each determinate value, he obtains from society the utility of his choice, in the proportion of that value.
If we regard man as an isolated being, it is as clear as day that consumption, and not production, is the essential thing; for consumption to a certain extent implies labour, but labour does not imply consumption.
The separation of employments has led certain economists to measure the general prosperity, not by consumption, but by labour. And by following these economists we have come to this strange subversion of principle, to favour labour at the expense of its results.
The reasoning has been this: The more difficulties are overcome the better. Then augment the difficulties to be conquered.
The error of this reasoning is manifest.
No doubt, a certain amount of difficulties being given, it is fortunate that a certain quantity of labour also given should [p326] surmount as many of these difficulties as possible. But to diminish the power of the labourer or augment that of the difficulties, in order to increase value, is positively monstrous.
An individual member of society is interested in this, that his services, while preserving even the same degree of utility, should increase in value. Suppose his desires in this respect to be realized, it is easy to perceive what will happen. He is better off, but his brethren are worse off, seeing that the total amount of utility has not been increased.
We cannot then reason from particulars to generals, and say: Pursue such measures as in their result will satisfy the desire which all individuals entertain to see the value of their services augmented.
Value being a relation, we should have accomplished nothing if the increase in all departments were proportionate to the anterior value; if it were arbitrary and unequal for different services, we should have done nothing but introduce injustice into the distribution of utilities.
It is of the nature of every bargain or mercantile transaction to give rise to a debate. But by using this word debate, shall I not bring down upon myself all the sentimental schools which are nowadays so numerous? Debate implies antagonism, it will be said. You admit, then, that antagonism is the natural state of society. Here again I have to break another lance; for in this country economic science is so little understood, that one cannot make use of a word without raising up an opponent.
I have been justly reproached for using the phrase that “Between the seller and buyer there exists a radical antagonism.” The word antagonism, when strengthened by the word radical, implies much more than I meant to express. It would seem to imply a permanent opposition of interests, consequently an indestructible social dissonance; while what I wished to indicate was merely that transient debate or discussion which precedes every commercial transaction, and which is inherent in the very idea of a bargain.
As long as, to the regret of the sentimental utopiast, there shall remain a vestige of liberty in the world, buyers and sellers will discuss their interests, and higgle about prices; nor will the social laws cease to be harmonious on that account. Is it possible to conceive that the man who offers and the man who demands a service should meet each other in the market without having for the moment a different idea of its value? Is that to set the world on fire? Must all commercial transactions, all exchanges, all barter, all liberty, be banished from this earth, or are we to allow each of [p327] the contracting parties to defend his position, and urge and put forward his motives? It is this very free debate or discussion which gives rise to the equivalence of services and the equity of transactions. By what other means can our system-makers ensure this equity which is so desirable? Would they by legislation trammel the liberty of one of the parties only? Then the one must be in the power of the other. Would they take away from both the liberty of managing their own affairs, under the pretext that they ought henceforth to buy and sell on the principle of fraternity? Let me tell the Socialists that it is here their absurdity becomes apparent, for, in the long-run, these interests must be regulated and adjusted. Is the discussion to be inverted, the purchaser taking the part of the seller and vice versa? Such transactions would be very diverting, we must allow. “Please, sir, give me only 10 francs for this cloth.” “What say you? I will give you 20 for it.” “But, my good sir, it is worth nothing—it is out of fashion—it will be worn out in a fortnight,” says the merchant. “It is of the best quality, and will last two winters,” replies the customer. “Very well, sir, to please you, I will add 5 francs—this is all the length that fraternity will allow me to go.” “It is against my Socialist principles to pay less than 20 francs, but we must learn to make sacrifices, and I agree.” Thus this whimsical transaction will just arrive at the ordinary result, and our system-makers will regret to see accursed liberty still surviving, although turned upside down and engendering a new antagonism.
That is not what we want, say the organisateurs; what we desire is liberty. Then, what would you be at? for services must still be exchanged, and conditions adjusted. We expect that the care of adjusting them should be left to us. I suspected as much. . . . . .
Fraternity! bond of brotherhood, sacred flame kindled by heaven in man’s soul, how has thy name been abused! In thy name all freedom has been stifled. In thy name a new despotism, such as the world had never before seen, has been erected; and we are at length driven to fear that the very name of fraternity, after being thus sullied, and having served as the rallying cry of so many incapables, the mask of so much ambition, and proud contempt of human dignity, should end by losing altogether its grand and noble significance.
Let us no longer, then, aim at overturning everything, domineering over everything and everybody, and withdrawing all—men and things—from the operation of natural laws. Let us leave the world as God has made it. Let us, poor scribblers, not imagine [p328] ourselves anything else than observers, more or less exact, of what is passing around us. Let us no longer render ourselves ridiculous by pretending to change human nature, as if we were ourselves beyond humanity and its errors and weaknesses. Let us leave producers and consumers to take care of their own interests, and to arrange and adjust these interests by honest and peaceful conventions. Let us confine ourselves to the observation of relations, and the effects to which they give rise. This is precisely what I am about to do, keeping always in view this general law, which I apprehend to be the law of human society, namely, the gradual equalization of individuals and of classes, combined with general progress.
A line no more resembles a force or a velocity, than it does a value or a utility. Mathematicians, nevertheless, make use of diagrams; and why should not the economist do the same?
We have values which are equal, values the mutual relations of which are known as the half, the quarter, double, triple, etc. There is nothing to prevent our representing these differences by lines of various lengths.
But the same thing does not hold with reference to utility. General utility, as we have seen, may be resolved into gratuitous utility and onerous utility, the former due to the action of nature, the latter the result of human labour. This last being capable of being estimated and measured, may be represented by a line of determinate length; but the other is not susceptible of estimation or of measurement. No doubt in the production of a measure of wheat, of a cask of wine, of an ox, of a stone of wool, a ton of coals, a bundle of faggots, nature does much. But we have no means of measuring this natural co-operation of forces, most of which are unknown to us, and which have been in operation since the beginning of time. Nor have we any interest in doing so. We may represent gratuitous utility, then, by an indefinite line.
Now, let there be two products, the value of the one being double that of the other, they may be represented by these lines:—