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FIRST
MEMOIR
Adversus
hostem aeterna auctertas esto.
Against the enemy, revendication is eternal.
LAW
OF THE TWELVE TABLES.
CHAPTER IV.
THAT PROPERTY IS IMPOSSIBLE.
The last
resort of proprietors, — the overwhelming argument whose invincible
potency
reassures them, — is that, in their opinion,
equality of conditions is impossible. "Equality of conditions
is a chimera," they cry with a knowing air; "distribute
wealth equally to-day — to-morrow this equality will have vanished."
To this
hackneyed objection, which they repeat everywhere with the
most marvellous
assurance, they never fail to add the following
comment, as a sort of Glory be to the Father: "If all men
were equal, nobody would work." This anthem is sung with
variations.
"If all were
masters, nobody would obey."
"If nobody were
rich, who would employ the poor?"
And, "If nobody
were poor, who would labor for the rich?"
But let us have done with invective — we have better arguments
at our command.
If I show that property itself is impossible — that it is property
which is a contradiction, a chimera, a utopia; and if I show
it no longer by metaphysics and jurisprudence, but by figures,
equations, and calculations, — imagine the fright of the astounded
proprietor! And you, reader; what do you think of the retort?
Numbers govern the
world — mundum regunt numeri. This proverb applies as aptly
to the moral and political, as to the sidereal
and molecular, world. The elements of justice are identical with
those of algebra; legislation and government are simply the arts
of classifying and balancing powers; all jurisprudence falls
within the rules of arithmetic. This chapter and the next will
serve to lay the foundations of this extraordinary doctrine.
Then will be unfolded to the reader's vision an immense and novel
career; then shall we commence to see in numerical relations
the synthetic unity of philosophy and the sciences; and, filled
with admiration and enthusiasm for this profound and majestic
simplicity of Nature, we shall shout with the apostle: "Yes,
the Eternal has made all things by number, weight, and measure!" We
shall understand not only that equality of conditions is possible,
but that all else is impossible; that this seeming impossibility
which we charge upon it arises from the fact that we always think
of it in connection either with the proprietary or the communistic régime, — political systems equally irreconcilable with
human nature. We shall see finally that equality is constantly
being
realized without our knowledge, even at the very moment when
we are pronouncing it incapable of realization; that the time
draws near when, without any effort or even wish of ours, we
shall have it universally established; that with it, in it, and
by it, the natural and true political order must make itself
manifest.
It has been said, in speaking of the blindness and obstinacy
of the passions, that, if man had any thing to gain by denying
the truths of arithmetic, he would find some means of unsettling
their certainty: here is an opportunity to try this curious experiment.
I attack property, no longer with its own maxims, but with arithmetic.
Let the proprietors prepare to verify my figures; for, if unfortunately
for them the figures prove accurate, the proprietors are lost.
In proving the impossibility of property, I complete the proof
of its injustice. In fact, —
That which
is just must be useful;
That which
is useful must be true;
That which
is true must be possible;
Therefore, every thing which is impossible is untrue, useless,
unjust. Then, — a priori, — we may judge of the justice of any
thing by its possibility; so that if the thing were absolutely
impossible, it would be absolutely unjust.
PROPERTY IS PHYSICALLY AND MATHEMATICALLY IMPOSSIBLE.
DEMONSTRATION.
AXIOM. — Property
is the Right of Increase claimed by the Proprietor over any
thing which he has stamped as his own.
This proposition is purely an axiom, because, —
- It is not
a definition, since it does not express all that is included
in the right
of property — the right of sale, of exchange,
of gift; the right to transform, to alter, to consume, to destroy,
to use and abuse, &c. All these rights are so many different
powers of property, which we may consider separately; but which
we disregard here, that we may devote all our attention to this
single one, — the right of increase.
- It is universally
admitted. No one can deny it without denying the facts, without
being instantly belied by universal custom.
- It is self-evident,
since property is always accompanied (either actually or potentially)
by the fact which this axiom
expresses; and through this fact, mainly, property manifests,
establishes, and asserts itself.
- Finally,
its negation involves a contradiction. The right of increase
is really an inherent right, so essential a part
of property, that, in its absence, property is null and void.
Observations.
— Increase receives different names according to the thing
by which it is yielded: if by land, farm-rent; if by
houses and furniture, rent; if by life-investments, revenue;
if by money, interest; if by exchange, advantage,
gain, profit (three things which must not be confounded with
the wages
or
legitimate price of labor).
Increase
— a sort of royal prerogative, of tangible and consumable homage
— is due to the proprietor on account of his nominal and
metaphysical occupancy. His seal is set upon the thing; that
is enough to prevent any one else from occupying it without his permission.
This permission to use his things the proprietor may, if he
chooses, freely grant. Commonly he sells it. This sale is really
a stellionate and an extortion; but by the legal fiction of the
right of property, this same sale, severely punished, we know
not why, in other cases, is a source of profit and value to the
proprietor.
The amount
demanded by the proprietor, in payment for this permission,
is expressed in monetary terms by the dividend which the supposed
product yields in nature. So that, by the right of increase,
the proprietor reaps and does not plough; gleans and does not
till; consumes and does not produce; enjoys and does not labor.
Very different from the idols of the Psalmist are the gods of
property: the former had hands and felt not; the latter, on the
contrary, manus habent et palpabunt.
The right
of increase is conferred in a very mysterious and supernatural
manner. The
inauguration of a proprietor is accompanied by the awful ceremonies
of an ancient initiation. First, comes the consecration of
the article; a consecration which makes known to all that they
must
offer up a suitable sacrifice to the proprietor, whenever they
wish, by his permission obtained and signed, to use his article. Second,
comes the anathema, which prohibits — except on the conditions
aforesaid — all persons from touching the article, even in the
proprietor's absence; and pronounces every violator of property
sacrilegious, infamous, amenable to the secular power, and deserving
of being handed over to it.
Finally,
the dedication, which enables the proprietor or patron saint
— the god chosen to watch over the article — to inhabit it
mentally, like a divinity in his sanctuary. By means of this
dedication, the substance of the article — so to speak — becomes
converted into the person of the proprietor, who is regarded
as ever present in its form.
This is exactly the
doctrine of the writers on jurisprudence. "Property," says
Toullier, "is a moral quality inherent in a thing;
an actual bond which fastens it to the proprietor, and which
cannot be broken save by his act." Locke humbly doubted
whether God could make matter intelligent. Toullier asserts
that the proprietor
renders it moral. How much does he lack of being a God? These
are by no means exaggerations.
Property
is the right of increase; that is, the power to produce
without labor. Now, to produce without labor is to make something
from nothing; in short, to create. Surely it is no more difficult
to do this than to moralize matter. The jurists are right, then,
in applying to proprietors this passage from the Scriptures,
— Ego
dixi: Dii estis et filii Excelsi omnes, — "I have said,
Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the Most High."
Property
is the right of increase. To us this axiom shall be
like the name of the beast in the Apocalypse, — a name in which
is hidden the complete explanation of the whole mystery of this
beast. It was known that he who should solve the mystery of this
name would obtain a knowledge of the whole prophecy, and would
succeed in mastering the beast. Well! by the most careful interpretation
of our axiom we shall kill the sphinx of property.
Starting
from this eminently characteristic fact — the right
of increase — we shall pursue the
old serpent through his coils; we shall count the murderous
entwinings of this frightful tænia,
whose head, with its thousand suckers, is always hidden from
the sword of its most violent enemies, though abandoning to them
immense fragments of its body. It requires something more than
courage to subdue this monster. It was written that it should
not die until a proletaire, armed with a magic wand, had fought
with it.
COROLLARIES.
— 1.
The amount of increase is proportional to the thing increased. Whatever
be the rate of interest, — whether it rise to three, five,
or ten per cent., or fall to one-half, one-
fourth, one-tenth, — it does not matter; the law of increase
remains the same. The law is as follows: —
All capital — the cash value of which can be estimated — may be
considered as a term in an arithmetical series which progresses
in the ratio of one hundred, and the revenue yielded by this
capital as the corresponding term of another arithmetical series
which progresses in a ratio equal to the rate of interest. Thus,
a capital of five hundred francs being the fifth term of the
arithmetical progression whose ratio is one hundred, its revenue
at three per cent. will be indicated by the fifth term of the
arithmetical progression whose ratio is three: —
100 . 200 . 300 . 400 . 500. 3 . 6 . 9 . 12 . 15.
An acquaintance
with this sort of logarithms — tables of which, calculated
to a very high degree, are possessed by proprietors —
will give us the key to the most puzzling problems, and cause
us to experience a series of surprises.
By this
logarithmic theory of the right of increase, a piece
of property, together with its income, may be defined as a
number whose logarithm is equal to the sum of its units divided
by one hundred, and multiplied by the rate of interest.
For instance;
a house valued at one hundred thousand francs, and leased at
five per cent., yields a revenue of five thousand francs, according
to the formula 100,000 x 5 / 100 = five thousand. Vice versa,
a piece of land which yields, at two and a half per cent, a
revenue of three thousand francs is worth one hundred and twenty
thousand francs, according to this other formula; 3,000 x 100
/ 21/2 = one hundred and twenty thousand.
In the first case, the ratio of the progression which marks
the increase of interest is five; in the second, it is two and
a half.
Observation. — The
forms of increase known as farm-rent, income, and interest
are paid annually; rent is paid by the week, the
month, or the year; profits and gains are paid at the time of
exchange. Thus, the amount of increase is proportional both to
the thing increased, and the time during which it increases;
in other words, usury grows like a cancer — foenus serpit
sicut cancer.
2. The
increase paid to the proprietor by the occupant is a dead
loss to the
latter. For if the proprietor owed, in exchange for the increase
which he receives, some thing more than the
permission which he grants, his right of property would not be
perfect — he would not possess jure optimo, jure perfecto;
that is, he would not be in reality a proprietor. Then, all which
passes from the hands of the occupant into those of the proprietor
in the name of increase, and as the price of the permission to
occupy, is a permanent gain for the latter, and a dead loss and
annihilation for the former; to whom none of it will return,
save in the forms of gift, alms, wages paid for his services,
or the price of merchandise which he has delivered. In a word,
increase perishes so far as the borrower is concerned; or to
use the more energetic Latin phrase, — res perit solventi.
3. The
right of increase oppresses the proprietor as well as the
stranger.
The master of a thing, as its proprietor, levies a tax for
the use of his property upon himself as its possessor,
equal to that which he would receive from a third party; so that
capital bears interest in the hands of the capitalist, as well
as in those of the borrower and the commandité. If, indeed,
rather than accept a rent of five hundred francs for my apartment,
I
prefer to occupy and enjoy it, it is clear that I shall become
my own debtor for a rent equal to that which I deny myself. This
principle is universally practised in business, and is regarded
as an axiom by the economists. Manufacturers, also, who have
the advantage of being proprietors of their floating capital,
although they owe no interest to any one, in calculating their
profits subtract from them, not only their running expenses and
the wages of their employees, but also the interest on their
capital. For the same reason, money-lenders retain in their own
possession as little money as possible; for, since all capital
necessarily bears interest, if this interest is supplied by no
one, it comes out of the capital, which is to that extent diminished.
Thus, by the right of increase, capital eats itself up. This
is, doubtless, the idea that Papinius intended to convey in the
phrase, as elegant as it is forcible — Foenus mordet
solidam.
I beg pardon for using Latin so frequently in discussing this
subject; it is an homage which I pay to the most usurious nation
that ever existed.
FIRST PROPOSITION.
Property is impossible, because it demands Something for Nothing.
The discussion of this proposition covers the same ground as
that of the origin of farm-rent, which is so much debated by
the economists. When I read the writings of the greater part
of these men, I cannot avoid a feeling of contempt mingled with
anger, in view of this mass of nonsense, in which the detestable
vies with the absurd. It would be a repetition of the story of
the elephant in the moon, were it not for the atrocity of the
consequences. To seek a rational and legitimate origin of that
which is, and ever must be, only robbery, extortion, and plunder — that
must be the height of the proprietor's folly; the last degree
of bedevilment into which minds, otherwise judicious, can be
thrown by the perversity of selfishness.
"A
farmer," says Say, "is
a wheat manufacturer who, among other tools which serve him
in modifying the material
from which he makes the wheat, employs one large tool, which
we call a field. If he is not the proprietor of the field, if
he is only a tenant, he pays the proprietor for the productive
service of this tool. The tenant is reimbursed by the purchaser,
the latter by another, until the product reaches the consumer;
who redeems the first payment, plus all the others, by means
of which the product has at last come into his hands."
Let us lay aside the subsequent payments by which the product
reaches the consumer, and, for the present, pay attention only
to the first one of all, — the rent paid to the proprietor by
the tenant. On what ground, we ask, is the proprietor entitled
to this rent?
According
to Ricardo, MacCulloch, and Mill, farm-rent, properly speaking,
is simply the excess of the product of the most fertile
land over that of lands of an inferior quality; so that farm-rent
is not demanded for the former until the increase of population
renders necessary the cultivation of the latter.
It is difficult to see any sense in this. How can a right to
the land be based upon a difference in the quality of the land?
How can varieties of soil engender a principle of legislation
and politics? This reasoning is either so subtle, or so stupid,
that the more I think of it, the more bewildered I become. Suppose
two pieces of land of equal area; the one, A, capable of supporting
ten thousand inhabitants; the other, B, capable of supporting
nine thousand only: when, owing to an increase in their number,
the inhabitants of A shall be forced to cultivate B, the landed
proprietors of A will exact from their tenants in A a rent proportional
to the difference between ten and nine. So say, I think, Ricardo,
MacCulloch, and Mill. But if A supports as many inhabitants as
it can contain, — that is, if the inhabitants of A, by our hypothesis,
have only just enough land to keep them alive, — how can they
pay farm-rent?
If they
had gone no farther than to say that the difference in land
has occasioned farm-rent, instead of caused it, this
observation would have taught us a valuable lesson; namely, that
farm-rent grew out of a desire for equality. Indeed, if all men
have an equal right to the possession of good land, no one can
be forced to cultivate bad land without indemnification. Farm-
rent — according to Ricardo, MacCulloch, and Mill — would then
have been a compensation for loss and hardship. This system of
practical equality is a bad one, no doubt; but it sprang from
good intentions. What argument can Ricardo, MacCulloch, and Mill
develop therefrom in favor of property? Their theory turns against
themselves, and strangles them.
Malthus thinks that farm-rent has its source in the power possessed
by land of producing more than is necessary to supply the wants
of the men who cultivate it. I would ask Malthus why successful
labor should entitle the idle to a portion of the products?
But the
worthy Malthus is mistaken in regard to the fact. Yes; land
has the power of producing more than is needed by those
who cultivate it, if by cultivators is meant tenants only. The
tailor also makes more clothes than he wears, and the cabinet-
maker more furniture than he uses. But, since the various professions
imply and sustain one another, not only the farmer, but the followers
of all arts and trades — even to the doctor and the school-teacher — are,
and ought to be, regarded as cultivators of the land. Malthus
bases farm-rent upon the principle of commerce. Now, the fundamental
law of commerce being equivalence of the products exchanged,
any thing which destroys this equivalence violates the law. There
is an error in the estimate which needs to be corrected.
Buchanan — a commentator on Smith — regarded farm-rent as the
result of a monopoly, and maintained that labor alone is productive.
Consequently, he thought that, without this monopoly, products
would rise in price; and he found no basis for farm-rent save
in the civil law. This opinion is a corollary of that which makes
the civil law the basis of property. But why has the civil law — which
ought to be the written expression of justice — authorized this
monopoly? Whoever says monopoly, necessarily excludes justice.
Now, to say that farm-rent is a monopoly sanctioned by the law,
is to say that injustice is based on justice, — a contradiction
in terms.
Say answers Buchanan,
that the proprietor is not a monopolist, because a monopolist "is
one who does not increase the utility of the merchandise which
passes through his hands."
How much does the proprietor increase the utility of his tenant's
products? Has he ploughed, sowed, reaped, mowed, winnowed, weeded?
These are the processes by which the tenant and his employees
increase the utility of the material which they consume for the
purpose of reproduction.
"The landed
proprietor increases the utility of products by means of his
implement, the land. This implement receives
in one state, and returns in another the materials of which wheat
is composed. The action of the land is a chemical process, which
so modifies the material that it multiplies it by destroying
it. The soil is then a producer of utility; and when it [the
soil?] asks its pay in the form of profit, or farm rent, for
its proprietor, it at the same time gives something to the consumer
in exchange for the amount which the consumer pays it. It gives
him a produced utility; and it is the production of this utility
which warrants us in calling land productive, as well as labor."
Let us clear up this matter.
The blacksmith who
manufactures for the farmer implements of husbandry, the wheelwright
who makes him a cart, the mason who
builds his barn, the carpenter, the basket-maker, &c., — all
of whom contribute to agricultural production by the tools which
they provide, — are producers of utility; consequently, they are
entitled to a part of the products.
"Undoubtedly," says
Say; "but
the land also is an implement whose service must
be paid for, then. . . ."
I admit that the land is an implement; but who made it? Did
the proprietor? Did he — by the efficacious virtue of the
right of property, by this moral quality infused into the soil — endow
it with vigor and fertility? Exactly there lies the monopoly
of the proprietor; in the fact that, though he did not make the
implement, he asks pay for its use. When the Creator shall present
himself and claim farm-rent, we will consider the matter with
him; or even when the proprietor — his pretended representative — shall
exhibit his power-of-attorney.
"The proprietor's service," adds Say, "is
easy, I admit."
It is a frank confession.
"But we cannot
disregard it. Without property, one farmer would contend with
another for the possession of a field without
a proprietor, and the field would remain uncultivated. . . ."
Then the proprietor's business is to reconcile farmers by robbing
them. O logic! O justice! O the marvellous wisdom of economists!
The proprietor, if they are right, is like Perrin- Dandin who,
when summoned by two travellers to settle a dispute about an
oyster, opened it, gobbled it, and said to them: —
"The Court awards
you each a shell."
Could any thing worse be said of property?
Will Say tell us why the same farmers, who, if there were no
proprietors, would contend with each other for possession of
the soil, do not contend to-day with the proprietors for this
possession? Obviously, because they think them legitimate possessors,
and because their respect for even an imaginary right exceeds
their avarice. I proved, in Chapter II., that possession is sufficient,
without property, to maintain social order. Would it be more
difficult, then, to reconcile possessors without masters than
tenants controlled by proprietors? Would laboring men, who respect — much
to their own detriment — the pretended rights of the idler, violate
the natural rights of the producer and the manufacturer? What!
if the husbandman forfeited his right to the land as soon as
he ceased to occupy it, would he become more covetous? And would
the impossibility of demanding increase, of taxing another's
labor, be a source of quarrels and law-suits? The economists
use singular logic. But we are not yet through. Admit that the
proprietor is the legitimate master of the land.
"The land is an instrument of production," they say.
That is true. But when, changing the noun into an adjective,
they alter the phrase, thus, "The land is a productive instrument," they
make a wicked blunder.
According
to Quesnay and the early economists, all production comes from
the land. Smith, Ricardo, and de Tracy, on the contrary,
say that labor is the sole agent of production. Say, and most
of his successors, teach that both land and labor
and capital are productive. The latter constitute the
eclectic school
of
political economy. The truth is, that neither land nor labor
nor capital is productive. Production results from the co-operation
of these three equally necessary elements, which, taken separately,
are equally sterile.
Political economy, indeed, treats of the production, distribution,
and consumption of wealth or values. But of what values? Of the
values produced by human industry; that is, of the changes made
in matter by man, that he may appropriate it to his own use,
and not at all of Nature's spontaneous productions. Man's labor
consists in a simple laying on of hands. When he has taken that
trouble, he has produced a value. Until then, the salt of the
sea, the water of the springs, the grass of the fields, and the
trees of the forests are to him as if they were not. The sea,
without the fisherman and his line, supplies no fish. The forest,
without the wood-cutter and his axe, furnishes neither fuel nor
timber. The meadow, without the mower, yields neither hay nor
aftermath. Nature is a vast mass of material to be cultivated
and converted into products; but Nature produces nothing for
herself: in the economical sense, her products, in their relation
to man, are not yet products.
Capital, tools, and
machinery are likewise unproductive. The hammer and the anvil,
without the blacksmith and the iron, do
not forge. The mill, without the miller and the grain, does not
grind, &c. Bring tools and raw material together; place a
plough and some seed on fertile soil; enter a smithy, light the
fire, and shut up the shop, — you will produce nothing. The following
remark was made by an economist who possessed more good sense
than most of his fellows: "Say credits capital with an active
part unwarranted by its nature; left to itself, it is an idle
tool." (J. Droz: Political Economy.)
Finally, labor and capital together, when unfortunately combined,
produce nothing. Plough a sandy desert, beat the water of the
rivers, pass type through a sieve, — you will get neither wheat,
nor fish, nor books. Your trouble will be as fruitless as was
the immense labor of the army of Xerxes; who, as Herodotus says,
with his three million soldiers, scourged the Hellespont for
twenty-four hours, as a punishment for having broken and scattered
the pontoon bridge which the great king had thrown across it.
Tools and capital, land and labor, considered individually and
abstractly, are not, literally speaking, productive. The proprietor
who asks to be rewarded for the use of a tool, or the productive
power of his land, takes for granted, then, that which is radically
false; namely, that capital produces by its own effort, — and,
in taking pay for this imaginary product, he literally receives
something for nothing.
Objection. — But if the blacksmith, the wheelwright, all manufacturers
in short, have a right to the products in return for the implements
which they furnish; and if land is an implement of production, — why
does not this implement entitle its proprietor, be his claim
real or imaginary, to a portion of the products; as in the case
of the manufacturers of ploughs and wagons?
Reply. — Here we touch the heart of the question, the mystery
of property; which we must clear up, if we would understand any
thing of the strange effects of the right of increase.
He who manufactures
or repairs the farmer's tools receives the price once, either
at the time of delivery, or in several payments;
and when this price is once paid to the manufacturer, the tools
which he has delivered belong to him no more. Never does he claim
double payment for the same tool, or the same job of repairs.
If he annually shares in the products of the farmer, it is owing
to the fact that he annually makes something for the farmer.
The proprietor, on the contrary, does not yield his implement;
eternally he is paid for it, eternally he keeps it.
In fact, the rent received by the proprietor is not intended
to defray the expense of maintaining and repairing the implement;
this expense is charged to the borrower, and does not concern
the proprietor except as he is interested in the preservation
of the article. If he takes it upon himself to attend to the
repairs, he takes care that the money which he expends for this
purpose is repaid.
This rent does not represent the product of the implement, since
of itself the implement produces nothing; we have just proved
this, and we shall prove it more clearly still by its consequences.
Finally, this rent does not represent the participation of the
proprietor in the production; since this participation could
consist, like that of the blacksmith and the wheelwright, only
in the surrender of the whole or a part of his implement, in
which case he would cease to be its proprietor, which would involve
a contradiction of the idea of property.
Then, between
the proprietor and his tenant there is no exchange either of
values or services; then, as our axiom says, farm-rent
is real increase, — an extortion based solely upon fraud
and violence on the one hand, and weakness and ignorance upon
the other. Products say the economists, are bought only by products. This
maxim is property's condemnation. The proprietor, producing neither
by
his own labor nor by his implement, and receiving products in
exchange for nothing, is either a parasite or a thief. Then,
if property can exist only as a right, property is impossible.
Corollaries. —
- The republican
constitution of 1793, which defined property as "the right to enjoy the fruit of one's
labor," was grossly mistaken. It should have said, "Property
is the right to enjoy and dispose at will of another's goods, — the
fruit of another's industry and labor."
- Every
possessor of lands, houses, furniture, machinery, tools,
money, &c.,
who lends a thing for a price exceeding the cost of repairs
(the repairs being charged to the lender, and representing
products which he exchanges for other products), is guilty of
swindling and extortion. In short, all rent received (nominally
as damages, but really as payment for a loan) is an act of property, — a
robbery.
Historical
Comment. — The
tax which a victorious nation levies upon a conquered nation
is genuine farm-rent. The seigniorial
rights abolished by the Revolution of 1789, — tithes, mortmain,
statute-labor, &c., — were different forms of the rights of
property; and they who under the titles of nobles, seigneurs,
prebendaries, &c. enjoyed these rights, were neither more
nor less than proprietors. To defend property to- day is to condemn
the Revolution.
SECOND PROPOSITION.
Property
is impossible because wherever it exists
Production costs
more than it is worth.
The preceding proposition was legislative in its nature; this
one is economical. It serves to prove that property, which originates
in violence, results in waste.
"Production," says Say, "is
exchange on a large scale. To render the exchange productive
the value of the whole
amount of service must be balanced by the value of the product.
If this condition is not complied with, the exchange is unequal;
the producer gives more than he receives."
Now, value being necessarily based upon utility, it follows
that every useless product is necessarily valueless, — that it
cannot be exchanged; and, consequently, that it cannot be given
in payment for productive services.
Then, though production may equal consumption, it never can
exceed it; for there is no real production save where there is
a production of utility, and there is no utility save where there
is a possibility of consumption. Thus, so much of every product
as is rendered by excessive abundance inconsumable, becomes useless,
valueless, unexchangeable, — consequently, unfit to be given in
payment for any thing whatever, and is no longer a product.
Consumption, on the other hand, to be legitimate, — to be true
consumption, — must be reproductive of utility; for, if it is
unproductive, the products which it destroys are cancelled values — things
produced at a pure loss; a state of things which causes products
to depreciate in value. Man has the power to destroy, but he
consumes only that which he reproduces. Under a right system
of economy, there is then an equation between production and
consumption.
These points established, let us suppose a community of one
thousand families, enclosed in a territory of a given circumference,
and deprived of foreign intercourse. Let this community represent
the human race, which, scattered over the face of the earth,
is really isolated. In fact, the difference between a community
and the human race being only a numerical one, the economical
results will be absolutely the same in each case.
Suppose, then, that these thousand families, devoting themselves
exclusively to wheat-culture, are obliged to pay to one hundred
individuals, chosen from the mass, an annual revenue of ten per
cent. on their product. It is clear that, in such a case, the
right of increase is equivalent to a tax levied in advance upon
social production. Of what use is this tax?
It cannot be levied to supply the community with provisions,
for between that and farm-rent there is nothing in common; nor
to pay for services and products, — for the proprietors, laboring
like the others, have labored only for themselves. Finally, this
tax is of no use to its recipients who, having harvested wheat
enough for their own consumption, and not being able in a society
without commerce and manufactures to procure any thing else in
exchange for it, thereby lose the advantage of their income.
In such a society, one-tenth of the product being inconsumable,
one-tenth of the labor goes unpaid — production costs more than
it is worth.
Now, change three hundred of our wheat-producers into artisans
of all kinds: one hundred gardeners and wine-growers, sixty shoemakers
and tailors, fifty carpenters and blacksmiths, eighty of various
professions, and, that nothing may be lacking, seven school-masters,
one mayor, one judge, and one priest; each industry furnishes
the whole community with its special product. Now, the total
production being one thousand, each laborer's consumption is
one; namely, wheat, meat, and grain, 0.7; wine and vegetables,
0.1; shoes and clothing, 0.06; iron-work and furniture, 0.05;
sundries, 0.08; instruction, 0.007; administration, 0.002; mass,
0.001, Total 1.
But the community owes a revenue of ten per cent.; and it matters
little whether the farmers alone pay it, or all the laborers
are responsible for it, — the result is the same. The farmer raises
the price of his products in proportion to his share of the debt;
the other laborers follow his example. Then, after some fluctuations,
equilibrium is established, and all pay nearly the same amount
of the revenue. It would be a grave error to assume that in a
nation none but farmers pay farm-rent — the whole nation pays
it.
I say, then, that by this tax of ten per cent. each laborer's
consumption is reduced as follows: wheat, 0.63; wine and vegetables,
0.09; clothing and shoes, 0.054; furniture and iron- work, 0.045;
other products, 0.072; schooling, 0.0063; administration, 0.0018;
mass, 0.0009. Total 0.9.
The laborer has produced
1; he consumes only 0.9. He loses, then, one-tenth of the price
of his labor; his production still
costs more than it is worth. On the other hand, the tenth received
by the proprietors is no less a waste; for, being laborers themselves,
they, like the others, possess in the nine- tenths of their product
the wherewithal to live: they want for nothing. Why should they
wish their proportion of bread, wine, meat, clothes, shelter, &c.,
to be doubled, if they can neither consume nor exchange them?
Then farm-rent, with them as with the rest of the laborers, is
a waste, and perishes in their hands. Extend the hypothesis,
increase the number and variety of the products, you still have
the same result.
Hitherto, we have considered the proprietor as taking part in
the production, not only (as Say says) by the use of his instrument,
but in an effective manner and by the labor of his hands. Now,
it is easy to see that, under such circumstances, property will
never exist. What happens?
The proprietor — an essentially libidinous animal, without virtue
or shame — is not satisfied with an orderly and disciplined life.
He loves property, because it enables him to do at leisure what
he pleases and when he pleases. Having obtained the means of
life, he gives himself up to trivialities and indolence; he enjoys,
he fritters away his time, he goes in quest of curiosities and
novel sensations. Property — to enjoy itself — has to abandon ordinary
life, and busy itself in luxurious occupations and unclean enjoyments.
Instead of giving up a farm-rent, which is perishing in their
hands, and thus lightening the labor of the community, our hundred
proprietors prefer to rest. In consequence of this withdrawal, — the
absolute production being diminished by one hundred, while the
consumption remains the same, — production and consumption seem
to balance. But, in the first place, since the proprietors no
longer labor, their consumption is, according to economical principles,
unproductive; consequently, the previous condition of the community — when
the labor of one hundred was rewarded by no products — is superseded
by one in which the products of one hundred are consumed without
labor. The deficit is always the same, whichever the column of
the account in which it is expressed. Either the maxims of political
economy are false, or else property, which contradicts them,
is impossible.
The economists — regarding all unproductive consumption as an
evil, as a robbery of the human race — never fail to exhort
proprietors to moderation, labor, and economy; they preach to
them the necessity
of making themselves useful, of remunerating production for that
which they receive from it; they launch the most terrible curses
against luxury and laziness. Very beautiful morality, surely;
it is a pity that it lacks common sense. The proprietor who labors,
or, as the economists say, who makes himself useful, is
paid for this labor and utility; is he, therefore, any the less
idle
as concerns the property which he does not use, and from which
he receives an income? His condition, whatever he may do, is
an unproductive and felonious one; he cannot cease to waste and
destroy without ceasing to be a proprietor.
But this is only the least of the evils which property engenders.
Society has to maintain some idle people, whether or no. It
will always have the blind, the maimed, the insane, and the idiotic.
It can easily support a few sluggards. At this point, the impossibilities
thicken and become complicated.
THIRD PROPOSITION.
Property
is impossible, because, with a given capital,
Production is
proportional to labor, not to property.
To pay a farm-rent of one hundred at the rate of ten per cent.
of the product, the product must be one thousand; that the product
may be one thousand, a force of one thousand laborers is needed.
It follows, that in granting a furlough, as we have just done,
to our one hundred laborer-proprietors, all of whom had an equal
right to lead the life of men of income, — we have placed ourselves
in a position where we are unable to pay their revenues. In fact,
the productive power, which at first was one thousand, being
now but nine hundred, the production is also reduced to nine
hundred, one-tenth of which is ninety. Either, then, ten proprietors
out of the one hundred cannot be paid, — provided the remaining
ninety are to get the whole amount of their farm-rent, — or else
all must consent to a decrease of ten per cent. For it is not
for the laborer, who has been wanting in no particular, who has
produced as in the past, to suffer by the withdrawal of the proprietor.
The latter must take the consequences of his own idleness. But,
then, the proprietor becomes poorer for the very reason that
he wishes to enjoy; by exercising his right, he loses it; so
that property seems to decrease and vanish in proportion as we
try to lay hold of it, — the more we pursue it, the more it eludes
our grasp. What sort of a right is that which is governed by
numerical relations, and which an arithmetical calculation can
destroy?
The laborer-proprietor
received, first, as laborer, 0.9 in wages; second, as proprietor,
1 in farm-rent. He said to himself, "My
farm-rent is sufficient; I have enough and to spare without my
labor." And thus it is that the income upon which he calculated
gets diminished by one-tenth, — he at the same time not even suspecting
the cause of this diminution. By taking part in the production,
he was himself the creator of this tenth which has vanished;
and while he thought to labor only for himself, he unwittingly
suffered a loss in exchanging his products, by which he was made
to pay to himself one-tenth of his own farm-rent. Like every
one else, he produced 1, and received but 0.9
If, instead
of nine hundred laborers, there had been but five hundred,
the whole amount of farm-rent would have been reduced
to fifty; if there had been but one hundred, it would have fallen
to ten. We may posit, then, the following axiom as a law of proprietary
economy: Increase must diminish as the number of idlers augments.
This first
result will lead us to another more surprising still. Its effect
is to deliver us at one blow from all the evils
of property, without abolishing it, without wronging proprietors,
and by a highly conservative process.
We have just proved
that, if the farm-rent in a community of one thousand laborers
is one hundred, that of nine hundred would
be ninety, that of eight hundred, eighty, that of one hundred,
ten, &c. So that, in a community where there was but one
laborer, the farm-rent would be but 0.1; no matter how great
the extent and value of the land appropriated. Therefore, with
a given landed capital, production is proportional to labor,
not to property.
Guided by this principle, let us try to ascertain the maximum
increase of all property whatever.
What is, essentially, a farm-lease? It is a contract by which
the proprietor yields to a tenant possession of his land, in
consideration of a portion of that which it yields him, the proprietor.
If, in consequence of an increase in his household, the tenant
becomes ten times as strong as the proprietor, he will produce
ten times as much. Would the proprietor in such a case be justified
in raising the farm-rent tenfold? His right is not, The more
you produce, the more I demand. It is, The more I sacrifice,
the more I demand. The increase in the tenant's household, the
number of hands at his disposal, the resources of his industry, — all
these serve to increase production, but bear no relation to the
proprietor. His claims are to be measured by his own productive
capacity, not that of others. Property is the right of increase,
not a poll-tax. How could a man, hardly capable of cultivating
even a few acres by himself, demand of a community, on the ground
of its use of ten thousand acres of his property, ten thousand
times as much as he is incapable of producing from one acre?
Why should the price of a loan be governed by the skill and strength
of the borrower, rather than by the utility sacrificed by the
proprietor? We must recognize, then, this second economical law: Increase
is measured by a fraction of the proprietors production.
Now, this production, what is it? In other words, What can the
lord and master of a piece of land justly claim to have sacrificed
in lending it to a tenant?
The productive capacity of a proprietor, like that of any laborer,
being one, the product which he sacrifices in surrendering his
land is also one. If, then, the rate of increase is ten per cent.,
the maximum increase is 0.1.
But we have
seen that, whenever a proprietor withdraws from production,
the amount of products is lessened by 1. Then the
increase which accrues to him, being equal to 0.1 while he remains
among the laborers, will be equal after his withdrawal, by the
law of the decrease of farm-rent, to 0.09. Thus we are led to
this final formula: The maximum income of a proprietor is
equal to the square root of the product of one laborer (some
number being agreed upon to express this product). The diminution
which this income suffers, if the proprietor is idle, is equal
to a fraction whose numerator is 1, and whose denominator is
the number which expresses the product.
Thus the maximum income of an idle proprietor, or of one who
labors in his own behalf outside of the community, figured at
ten per cent. on an average production of one thousand francs
per laborer, would be ninety francs. If, then, there are in France
one million proprietors with an income of one thousand francs
each, which they consume unproductively, instead of the one thousand
millions which are paid them annually, they are entitled in strict
justice, and by the most accurate calculation, to ninety millions
only.
It is something of a reduction, to take nine hundred and ten
millions from the burdens which weigh so heavily upon the laboring
class! Nevertheless, the account is not finished, and the laborer
is still ignorant of the full extent of his rights.
What is the right of increase when confined within just limits?
A recognition of the right of occupancy. But since all have an
equal right of occupancy, every man is by the same title a proprietor.
Every man has a right to an income equal to a fraction of his
product. If, then, the laborer is obliged by the right of property
to pay a rent to the proprietor, the proprietor is obliged by
the same right to pay the same amount of rent to the laborer;
and, since their rights balance each other, the difference between
them is zero.
Scholium. — If farm-rent is only a fraction of the supposed
product of the proprietor, whatever the amount and value of the
property, the same is true in the case of a large number of small
and distinct proprietors. For, although one man may use the property
of each separately, he cannot use the property of all at the
same time.
To sum up. The right of increase, which can exist only within
very narrow limits, defined by the laws of production, is annihilated
by the right of occupancy. Now, without the right of increase,
there is no property. Then property is impossible.
FOURTH PROPOSITION.
Property is impossible, because it is Homicide.
If the right
of increase could be subjected to the laws of reason and justice,
it would
be reduced to an indemnity or reward whose
maximum never could exceed, for a single laborer, a certain fraction
of that which he is capable of producing. This we have just shown.
But why should the right of increase — let us not fear to call
it by its right name, the right of robbery — be governed by reason,
with which it has nothing in common? The proprietor is not content
with the increase allotted him by good sense and the nature of
things: he demands ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times,
a million times as much. By his own labor, his property would
yield him a product equal only to one; and he demands of society,
no longer a right proportional to his productive capacity, but
a per capita tax. He taxes his fellows in proportion to their
strength, their number, and their industry. A son is born to
a farmer. "Good!" says the proprietor; "one more
chance for increase!" By what process has farm-rent been
thus changed into a poll-tax? Why have our jurists and our theologians
failed, with all their shrewdness, to check the extension of
the right of increase?
The proprietor, having
estimated from his own productive capacity the number of laborers
which his property will accommodate, divides
it into as many portions, and says: "Each one shall yield
me revenue." To increase his income, he has only to divide
his property. Instead of reckoning the interest due him on his
labor, he reckons it on his capital; and, by this substitution,
the same property, which in the hands of its owner is capable
of yielding only one, is worth to him ten, a hundred, a thousand,
a million. Consequently, he has only to hold himself in readiness
to register the names of the laborers who apply to him — his task
consists in drafting leases and receipts.
Not satisfied with the lightness of his duties, the proprietor
does not intend to bear even the deficit resulting from his idleness;
he throws it upon the shoulders of the producer, of whom he always
demands the same reward. When the farm-rent of a piece of land
is once raised to its highest point, the proprietor never lowers
it; high prices, the scarcity of labor, the disadvantages of
the season, even pestilence itself, have no effect upon him — why
should he suffer from hard times when he does not labor?
Here commences a new series of phenomena.
Say — who reasons with marvellous clearness whenever he assails
taxation, but who is blind to the fact that the proprietor, as
well as the tax-gatherer, steals from the tenant, and in the
same manner — says in his second letter to Malthus: —
"If the collector
of taxes and those who employ him consume one- sixth of the
products, they thereby compel the producers
to feed, clothe, and support themselves on five-sixths of what
they produce. They admit this, but say at the same time that
it is possible for each one to live on five-sixths of what he
produces.
I admit that, if
they insist upon it; but I ask if they believe that the producer
would live as well, in case they demanded of
him, instead of one-sixth, two-sixths, or one-third, of their
products? No; but he would still live. Then I ask whether he
would still live, in case they should rob him of two- thirds,
. . . then three-quarters? But I hear no reply."
If the master of the French economists had been less blinded
by his proprietary prejudices, he would have seen that farm-rent
has precisely the same effect.
Take a family of peasants composed of six persons, — father,
mother, and four children, — living in the country, and cultivating
a small piece of ground. Let us suppose that by hard labor they
manage, as the saying is, to make both ends meet; that, having
lodged, warmed, clothed, and fed themselves, they are clear of
debt, but have laid up nothing. Taking the years together, they
contrive to live. If the year is prosperous, the father drinks
a little more wine, the daughters buy themselves a dress, the
sons a hat; they eat a little cheese, and, occasionally, some
meat. I say that these people are on the road to wreck and ruin.
For, by the third corollary of our axiom, they owe to themselves
the interest on their own capital. Estimating this capital at
only eight thousand francs at two and a half per cent., there
is an annual interest of two hundred francs to be paid. If, then,
these two hundred francs, instead of being subtracted from the
gross product to be saved and capitalized, are consumed, there
is an annual deficit of two hundred francs in the family assets;
so that at the end of forty years these good people, without
suspecting it, will have eaten up their property and become bankrupt!
This result seems ridiculous — it is a sad reality.
The conscription comes. What is the conscription? An act of
property exercised over families by the government without warning — a
robbery of men and money. The peasants do not like to part with
their sons, — in that I do not think them wrong. It is hard for
a young man of twenty to gain any thing by life in the barracks;
unless he is depraved, he detests it. You can generally judge
of a soldier's morality by his hatred of his uniform. Unfortunate
wretches or worthless scamps, — such is the make-up of the French
army. This ought not to be the case, — but so it is. Question
a hundred thousand men, and not one will contradict my assertion.
Our peasant, in redeeming his two conscripted sons, expends
four thousand francs, which he borrows for that purpose; the
interest on this, at five per cent., is two hundred francs; — a
sum equal to that referred to above. If, up to this time, the
production of the family, constantly balanced by its consumption,
has been one thousand two hundred francs, or two hundred francs
per persons — in order to pay this interest, either the six laborers
must produce as much as seven, or must consume as little as five.
Curtail consumption they cannot — how can they curtail necessity?
To produce more is impossible; they can work neither harder nor
longer. Shall they take a middle course, and consume five and
a half while producing six and a half? They would soon find that
with the stomach there is no compromise — that beyond a certain
degree of abstinence it is impossible to go — that strict necessity
can be curtailed but little without injury to the health; and,
as for increasing the product, — there comes a storm, a drought,
an epizootic, and all the hopes of the farmer are dashed. In
short, the rent will not be paid, the interest will accumulate,
the farm will be seized, and the possessor ejected.
Thus a family, which lived in prosperity while it abstained
from exercising the right of property, falls into misery as soon
as the exercise of this right becomes a necessity. Property requires
of the husbandman the double power of enlarging his land, and
fertilizing it by a simple command. While a man is simply possessor
of the land, he finds in it means of subsistence; as soon as
he pretends to proprietorship, it suffices him no longer. Being
able to produce only that which he consumes, the fruit of his
labor is his recompense for his trouble — nothing is left for
the instrument.
Required to pay what he cannot produce, — such is the condition
of the tenant after the proprietor has retired from social production
in order to speculate upon the labor of others by new methods.
Let us now return to our first hypothesis.
The nine
hundred laborers, sure that their future production will equal
that of the past, are quite surprised, after paying
their farm-rent, to find themselves poorer by one-tenth than
they were the previous year. In fact, this tenth — which
was formerly produced and paid by the proprietor-laborer who
then took part
in the production, and paid part of the — public expenses — now
has not been produced, and has been paid. It must then have been
taken from the producer's consumption. To choke this inexplicable
deficit, the laborer borrows, confident of his intention and
ability to return, — a confidence which is shaken the following
year by a new loan, plus the interest on the first. From whom
does he borrow? From the proprietor. The proprietor lends his
surplus to the laborer; and this surplus, which he ought to return,
becomes — being lent at interest — a new source of
profit to him. Then debts increase indefinitely; the proprietor
makes advances
to the producer who never returns them; and the latter, constantly
robbed and constantly borrowing from the robbers, ends in bankruptcy,
defrauded of all that he had.
Suppose that the proprietor — who needs his tenant to furnish
him with an income — then releases him from his debts. He will
thus do a very benevolent deed, which will procure for him a
recommendation in the curate's prayers; while the poor tenant,
overwhelmed by this unstinted charity, and taught by his catechism
to pray for his benefactors, will promise to redouble his energy,
and suffer new hardships that he may discharge his debt to so
kind a master.
This time he takes
precautionary measures; he raises the price of grains. The
manufacturer does the same with his products.
The reaction comes, and, after some fluctuation, the farm-rent — which
the tenant thought to put upon the manufacturer's shoulders — becomes
nearly balanced. So that, while he is congratulating himself
upon his success, he finds himself again impoverished, but to
an extent somewhat smaller than before. For the rise having been
general, the proprietor suffers with the rest; so that the laborers,
instead of being poorer by one-tenth, lose only nine-hundredths.
But always it is a debt which necessitates a loan, the payment
of interest, economy, and fasting. Fasting for the nine-hundredths
which ought not to be paid, and are paid; fasting for the redemption
of debts; fasting to pay the interest on them. Let the crop fail,
and the fasting becomes starvation. They say, "It is
necessary to work more." That means, obviously, that
it is necessary to produce more. By what conditions is production
effected? By the combined action of labor, capital, and land.
As for the labor,
the tenant undertakes to furnish it; but capital is formed only
by economy. Now, if the tenant could accumulate any thing, he
would pay his debts. But granting that he has plenty of capital,
of what use would it be to him if the extent of the land which
he cultivates always remained the same? He needs to enlarge his
farm.
Will it be said, finally, that he must work harder and to better
advantage? But, in our estimation of farm-rent, we have assumed
the highest possible average of production. Were it not the highest,
the proprietor would increase the farm-rent. Is not this the
way in which the large landed proprietors have gradually raised
their rents, as fast as they have ascertained by the increase
in population and the development of industry how much society
can produce from their property? The proprietor is a foreigner
to society; but, like the vulture, his eyes fixed upon his prey,
he holds himself ready to pounce upon and devour it.
The facts to which we have called attention, in a community
of one thousand persons, are reproduced on a large scale in every
nation and wherever human beings live, but with infinite variations
and in innumerable forms, which it is no part of my intention
to describe.
In fine, property — after having robbed the laborer by usury —
murders him slowly by starvation. Now, without robbery and murder,
property cannot exist; with robbery and murder, it soon dies
for want of support. Therefore it is impossible.
FIFTH PROPOSITION.
Property is impossible, because, if it exists, Society devours
itself.
When the ass is too heavily loaded, he lies down; man always
moves on. Upon this indomitable courage, the proprietor — well
knowing that it exists — bases his hopes of speculation. The free
laborer produces ten; for me, thinks the proprietor, he will
produce twelve.
Indeed, — before consenting to the confiscation of his fields,
before bidding farewell to the paternal roof, — the peasant, whose
story we have just told, makes a desperate effort; he leases
new land; he will sow one-third more; and, taking half of this
new product for himself, he will harvest an additional sixth,
and thereby pay his rent. What an evil! To add one-sixth to his
production, the farmer must add, not one-sixth, but two-sixths
to his labor. At such a price, he pays a farm-rent which in God's
eyes he does not owe.
The tenant's example is followed by the manufacturer. The former
tills more land, and dispossesses his neighbors; the latter lowers
the price of his merchandise, and endeavors to monopolize its
manufacture and sale, and to crush out his competitors. To satisfy
property, the laborer must first produce beyond his needs. Then,
he must produce beyond his strength; for, by the withdrawal of
laborers who become proprietors, the one always follows from
the other. But to produce beyond his strength and needs, he must
invade the production of another, and consequently diminish the
number of producers. Thus the proprietor — after having lessened
production by stepping outside — lessens it still further by encouraging
the monopoly of labor. Let us calculate it.
The laborer's deficit, after paying his rent, being, as we have
seen, one-tenth, he tries to increase his production by this
amount. He sees no way of accomplishing this save by increasing
his labor: this also he does. The discontent of the proprietors
who have not received the full amount of their rent; the advantageous
offers and promises made them by other farmers, whom they suppose
more diligent, more industrious, and more reliable; the secret
plots and intrigues, — all these give rise to a movement for the
re-division of labor, and the elimination of a certain number
of producers. Out of nine hundred, ninety will be ejected, that
the production of the others may be increased one- tenth. But
will the total product be increased? Not in the least: there
will be eight hundred and ten laborers producing as nine hundred,
while, to accomplish their purpose, they would have to produce
as one thousand. Now, it having been proved that farm-rent is
proportional to the landed capital instead of to labor, and that
it never diminishes, the debts must continue as in the past,
while the labor has increased. Here, then, we have a society
which is continually decimating itself, and which would destroy
itself, did not the periodical occurrence of failures, bankruptcies,
and political and economical catastrophes re-establish equilibrium,
and distract attention from the real causes of the universal
distress.
The monopoly of land
and capital is followed by economical processes which also
result in throwing laborers out of employment. Interest
being a constant burden upon the shoulders of the farmer and
the manufacturer, they exclaim, each speaking for himself, "I
should have the means wherewith to pay my rent and interest,
had I not to pay so many hands." Then those admirable inventions,
intended to assure the easy and speedy performance of labor,
become so many infernal machines which kill laborers by thousands.
"A few years ago, the Countess of Strafford ejected fifteen
thousand persons from her estate, who, as tenants, added to its
value. This act of private administration was repeated in 1820,
by another large Scotch proprietor, towards six hundred tenants
and their families." — Tissot: on Suicide and
Revolt.
The
author whom I quote, and who has written eloquent words concerning
the revolutionary spirit which prevails in modern
society, does not say whether he would have disapproved of a
revolt on the part of these exiles. For myself, I avow boldly
that in my eyes it would have been the first of rights, and the
holiest of duties; and all that I desire to-day is that my profession
of faith be understood.
Society devours itself, — 1. By the violent and periodical sacrifice
of laborers: this we have just seen, and shall see again; 2.
By the stoppage of the producer's consumption caused by property.
These two modes of suicide are at first simultaneous; but soon
the first is given additional force by the second, famine uniting
with usury to render labor at once more necessary and more scarce.
By the principles of commerce and political economy, that an
industrial enterprise may be successful, its product must furnish, — 1.
The interest on the capital employed; 2. Means for the preservation
of this capital; 3. The wages of all the employees and contractors.
Further, as large a profit as possible must be realized.
The financial shrewdness and rapacity of property is worthy
of admiration. Each different name which increase takes affords
the proprietor an opportunity to receive it, — 1. In the form
of interest; 2. In the form of profit. For, it says, a part of
the income derived from manufactures consists of interest on
the capital employed. If one hundred thousand francs have been
invested in a manufacturing enterprise, and in a year's time
five thousand francs have been received therefrom in addition
to the expenses, there has been no profit, but only interest
on the capital. Now, the proprietor is not a man to labor for
nothing. Like the lion in the fable, he gets paid in each of
his capacities; so that, after he has been served, nothing is
left for his associates.
Ego primam
tollo, nominor quia leo.
Secundam quia sum fortis tribuctis
mihi.
Tum quia plus valeo, me sequetur tertia.
Malo
adficietur, si quis quartam tetigerit.
I know nothing prettier than this fable.
"I
am the contractor,
I
take the first share.
I am the laborer, I take the second.
I am the capitalist, I take the third.
I am the proprietor, I take the whole."
In four lines, Phaedrus has summed up all the forms of property.
I say that this interest, all the more then this profit, is
impossible.
What are laborers in relation to each other? So many members
of a large industrial society, to each of whom is assigned a
certain portion of the general production, by the principle of
the division of labor and functions. Suppose, first, that this
society is composed of but three individuals, — a cattle-raiser,
a tanner, and a shoemaker. The social industry, then, is that
of shoemaking. If I should ask what ought to be each producer's
share of the social product, the first schoolboy whom I should
meet would answer, by a rule of commerce and association, that
it should be one-third. But it is not our duty here to balance
the rights of laborers conventionally associated: we have to
prove that, whether associated or not, our three workers are
obliged to act as if they were; that, whether they will or no,
they are associated by the force of things, by mathematical necessity.
Three processes are required in the manufacture of shoes, — the
rearing of cattle, the preparation of their hides, and the cutting
and sewing. If the hide, on leaving the farmer's stable, is worth
one, it is worth two on leaving the tanner's pit, and three on
leaving the shoemaker's shop. Each laborer has produced a portion
of the utility; so that, by adding all these portions together,
we get the value of the article. To obtain any quantity whatever
of this article, each producer must pay, then, first for his
own labor, and second for the labor of the other producers. Thus,
to obtain as many shoes as can be made from ten hides, the farmer
will give thirty raw hides, and the tanner twenty tanned hides.
For, the shoes that are made from ten hides are worth thirty
raw hides, in consequence of the extra labor bestowed upon them;
just as twenty tanned hides are worth thirty raw hides, on account
of the tanner's labor. But if the shoemaker demands thirty-three
in the farmer's product, or twenty-two in the tanner's, for ten
in his own, there will be no exchange; for, if there were, the
farmer and the tanner, after having paid the shoemaker ten for
his labor, would have to pay eleven for that which they had themselves
sold for ten, — which, of course, would be impossible.1
Well, this
is precisely what happens whenever an emolument of any kind
is received; be it called revenue, farm-rent, interest,
or profit. In the little community of which we are speaking,
if the shoemaker — in order to procure tools, buy a stock of leather,
and support himself until he receives something from his investment — borrows
money at interest, it is clear that to pay this interest he will
have to make a profit off the tanner and the farmer.
But as this profit is impossible unless fraud is used, the interest
will fall back upon the shoulders of the unfortunate shoemaker,
and ruin him.
I have imagined a case of unnatural simplicity. There is no
human society but sustains more than three vocations. The most
uncivilized society supports numerous industries; to-day, the
number of industrial functions (I mean by industrial functions
all useful functions) exceeds, perhaps, a thousand. However numerous
the occupations, the economic law remains the same, — That
the producer may live, his wages must repurchase his product.
The economists
cannot be ignorant of this rudimentary principle of their pretended
science: why, then, do they so obstinately
defend property, and inequality of wages, and the legitimacy
of usury, and the honesty of profit, — all of which contradict
the economic law, and make exchange impossible? A contractor
pays one hundred thousand francs for raw material, fifty thousand
francs in wages, and then expects to receive a product of two
hundred thousand francs, — that is, expects to make a profit on
the material and on the labor of his employees; but if the laborers
and the purveyor of the material cannot, with their combined
wages, repurchase that which they have produced for the contractor,
how can they live? I will develop my question. Here details become
necessary.
If the workingman
receives for his labor an average of three francs per day,
his employer (in order to gain any thing beyond
his own salary, if only interest on his capital) must sell the
day's labor of his employee, in the form of merchandise, for
more than three francs. The workingman cannot, then, repurchase
that which he has produced for his master. It is thus with all
trades whatsoever. The tailor, the hatter, the cabinet-maker,
the blacksmith, the tanner, the mason, the jeweller, the printer,
the clerk, &c., even to the farmer and wine-grower, cannot
repurchase their products; since, producing for a master who
in one form or another makes a profit, they are obliged to pay
more for their own labor than they get for it.
In France, twenty millions of laborers, engaged in all the branches
of science, art, and industry, produce every thing which is useful
to man. Their annual wages amount, it is estimated. to twenty
thousand millions; but, in consequence of the right of property,
and the multifarious forms of increase, premiums, tithes, interests,
fines, profits, farm-rents, house-rents, revenues, emoluments
of every nature and description, their products are estimated
by the proprietors and employers at twenty-five thousand millions.
What does that signify? That the laborers, who are obliged to
repurchase these products in order to live, must either pay five
for that which they produced for four, or fast one day in five.
If there is an economist in France able to show that this calculation
is false, I summon him to appear; and I promise to retract all
that I have wrongfully and wickedly uttered in my attacks upon
property.
Let us now look at the results of this profit.
If the wages of the workingmen were the same in all pursuits,
the deficit caused by the proprietor's tax would be felt equally
everywhere; but also the cause of the evil would be so apparent,
that it would soon be discovered and suppressed. But, as there
is the same inequality of wages (from that of the scavenger up
to that of the minister of state) as of property, robbery continually
rebounds from the stronger to the weaker; so that, since the
laborer finds his hardships increase as he descends in the social
scale, the lowest class of people are literally stripped naked
and eaten alive by the others.
The laboring people
can buy neither the cloth which they weave, nor the furniture
which they manufacture, nor the metal which
they forge, nor the jewels which they cut, nor the prints which
they engrave. They can procure neither the wheat which they plant,
nor the wine which they grow, nor the flesh of the animals which
they raise. They are allowed neither to dwell in the houses which
they build, nor to attend the plays which their labor supports,
nor to enjoy the rest which their body requires. And why? Because
the right of increase does not permit these things to be sold
at the cost-price, which is all that laborers can afford to pay.
On the signs of those magnificent warehouses which he in his
poverty admires, the laborer reads in large letters: "This
is thy work, and thou shalt not have it." Sic vos non
vobis!
Every manufacturer who employs one thousand laborers, and gains
from them daily one sou each, is slowly pushing them into a state
of misery. Every man who makes a profit has entered into a conspiracy
with famine. But the whole nation has not even this labor, by
means of which property starves it. And why? Because the workers
are forced by the insufficiency of their wages to monopolize
labor; and because, before being destroyed by dearth, they destroy
each other by competition. Let us pursue this truth no further.
If the laborer's wages will not purchase his product, it follows
that the product is not made for the producer. For whom, then,
is it intended? For the richer consumer; that is, for only a
fraction of society. But when the whole society labors, it produces
for the whole society. If, then, only a part of society consumes,
sooner or later a part of society will be idle. Now, idleness
is death, as well for the laborer as for the proprietor.
This conclusion is inevitable.
The most distressing spectacle imaginable is the sight of producers
resisting and struggling against this mathematical necessity,
this power of figures to which their prejudices blind them.
If one hundred thousand printers can furnish reading-matter
enough for thirty-four millions of men, and if the price of books
is so high that only one-third of that number can afford to buy
them, it is clear that these one hundred thousand printers will
produce three times as much as the booksellers can sell. That
the products of the laborers may never exceed the demands of
the consumers, the laborers must either rest two days out of
three, or, separating into three groups, relieve each other three
times a week, month, or quarter; that is, during two-thirds of
their life they must not live. But industry, under the influence
of property, does not proceed with such regularity. It endeavors
to produce a great deal in a short time, because the greater
the amount of products, and the shorter the time of production,
the less each product costs. As soon as a demand begins to be
felt, the factories fill up, and everybody goes to work. Then
business is lively, and both governors and governed rejoice.
But the more they work to-day, the more idle will they be hereafter;
the more they laugh, the more they shall weep. Under the rule
of property, the flowers of industry are woven into none but
funeral wreaths. The laborer digs his own grave.
If the factory stops running, the manufacturer has to pay interest
on his capital the same as before. He naturally tries, then,
to continue production by lessening expenses. Then comes the
lowering of wages; the introduction of machinery; the employment
of women and children to do the work of men; bad workmen, and
wretched work. They still produce, because the decreased cost
creates a larger market; but they do not produce long, because,
the cheapness being due to the quantity and rapidity of production,
the productive power tends more than ever to outstrip consumption.
It is when laborers, whose wages are scarcely sufficient to support
them from one day to another, are thrown out of work, that the
consequences of the principle of property become most frightful.
They have not been able to economize, they have made no savings,
they have accumulated no capital whatever to support them even
one day more. Today the factory is closed. To-morrow the people
starve in the streets. Day after tomorrow they will either die
in the hospital, or eat in the jail.
And still
new misfortunes come to complicate this terrible situation.
In consequence of the cessation of business, and the extreme
cheapness of merchandise, the manufacturer finds it impossible
to pay the interest on his borrowed capital; whereupon his frightened
creditors hasten to withdraw their funds. Production is suspended,
and labor comes to a standstill. Then people are astonished to
see capital desert commerce, and throw itself upon the Stock
Exchange; and I once heard M. Blanqui bitterly lamenting the
blind ignorance of capitalists. The cause of this movement of
capital is very simple; but for that very reason an economist
could not understand it, or rather must not explain it. The cause
lies solely in competition.
I mean by competition, not only the rivalry between two parties
engaged in the same business, but the general and simultaneous
effort of all kinds of business to get ahead of each other. This
effort is to-day so strong, that the price of merchandise scarcely
covers the cost of production and distribution; so that, the
wages of all laborers being lessened, nothing remains, not even
interest for the capitalists.
The primary cause of commercial and industrial stagnations is,
then, interest on capital, — that interest which the ancients
with one accord branded with the name of usury, whenever it was
paid for the use of money, but which they did not dare to condemn
in the forms of house-rent, farm-rent, or profit: as if the nature
of the thing lent could ever warrant a charge for the lending;
that is, robbery.
In proportion to the increase received by the capitalist will
be the frequency and intensity of commercial crises, — the first
being given, we always can determine the two others; and vice
versa. Do you wish to know the regulator of a society? Ascertain
the amount of active capital; that is, the capital bearing interest,
and the legal rate of this interest. The course of events will
be a series of overturns, whose number and violence will be proportional
to the activity of capital.
In 1839, the number of failures in Paris alone was one thousand
and sixty-four. This proportion was kept up in the early months
of 1840; and, as I write these lines, the crisis is not yet ended.
It is said, further, that the number of houses which have wound
up their business is greater than the number of declared failures.
By this flood, we may judge of the waterspout's power of suction.
The decimation of society is now imperceptible and permanent,
now periodical and violent; it depends upon the course which
property takes. In a country where the property is pretty evenly
distributed, and where little business is done, — the rights and
claims of each being balanced by those of others, — the power
of invasion is destroyed. There — it may be truly said — property
does not exist, since the right of increase is scarcely exercised
at all. The condition of the laborers — as regards security of
life — is almost the same as if absolute equality prevailed among
them. They are deprived of all the advantages of full and free
association, but their existence is not endangered in the least.
With the exception of a few isolated victims of the right of
property — of this misfortune whose primary cause no one perceives — the
society appears to rest calmly in the bosom of this sort of equality.
But have a care; it is balanced on the edge of a sword: at the
slightest shock, it will fall and meet with death!
Ordinarily,
the whirlpool of property localizes itself. On the one hand,
farm-rent stops at a certain point; on the other, in
consequence of competition and over-production, the price of
manufactured goods does not rise, — so that the condition
of the peasant varies but little, and depends mainly on the seasons.
The devouring action of property bears, then, principally upon
business. We commonly say commercial crises, not agricultural
crises; because, while the farmer is eaten
up slowly by the right
of increase, the manufacturer is swallowed at a single |
