CHAPTER I
The Confusion of Thought involved in the Socialistic Conception of Labour.
◆1 After what has now been said, every one will admit that Ability, as distinct from Labour, is as truly a productive agent as Labour is.
◆2 But Socialists, even if they admit this fact, by their inaccurate thought and language obscure the meaning of the fact;
◆¹Thereis one point which now must be quite plain to every reader, and on which there is no need to insist further; namely, that Ability is as truly a productive agent as Labour, and that if Labour produces any part of contemporary wealth, Ability just as truly produces another part. This proposition, when put in a general way, will, after what has been said, not be disputed by anybody; but there are various arguments which readers of socialistic sympathies will probably invoke as disproving it in the particular form just given to it. Certain of these arguments require to be discussed at length; but the rest can be disposed off quickly, and we will get them out of the way first. ◆² They are, indeed, notso much arguments as confusions of thought, due largely to an inaccurate use of language.
These confusions are practically all comprehended in the common socialistic formula which declares all production, under modern conditions, to be what Socialists call “socialised.” By this is meant that the whole wealth of the community is produced by the joint action of all the classes of men and of all the faculties employed in its production; and the formula thus includes, as Socialists will be careful to tell us, all those faculties which are here described as Ability. Now such a doctrine, if we consider its superficial sense merely, is so far from being untrue that it is a truism. But if we consider what it implies, if we consider the only meaning which gives it force as a socialistic argument, or indeed invests it with the character of any argument at all, we shall find it to be a collection of fallacies for which the truism is only a cloak. For the implied meaning is not the mere barren statement that the exertions of all contribute to the joint result, but that the exertions of all contribute to it in an equal degree; the further implication being that all therefore should share alike in it.
◆1 Making use of the same fallacy as that of Mill, which has been already criticised.
◆¹ This is really Mill’s argument with respect to Land and Labour, put into different language and applied to Labour and Ability. It says in effect precisely what was said by Mill, that when two causes are both necessary to producing a given result, it is absurd to say that the one produces more or less of it than the other: only here the argument can be used with greater apparent force. For the Socialists may say that if the principle which has been explained in this book is admitted, and if Ability is held to produce all that part of the product which is over and above what Labour could produce by itself, Labour, by the same reasoning, could be proved to produce the whole of the product, since, without the assistance of Labour, Ability could produce nothing. Accordingly, they will go on to say, this conclusion being absurd, the reasoning which leads to it must be false, and we must fall back again on the principle set forth by Mill. Labour and Ability are both necessary to the result, and being equally necessary must be held to contribute equally to producing it.
This argument, as I have said, has great apparent force; but again we have a plausibilitywhich is altogether upon the surface. If Labour and Ability were here conceived of as faculties, without regard to the number of men possessing them, the argument would, whatever its logical value, coincide broadly with one great practical fact, to which by and by I shall call the reader’s attention; namely, that Labour and Ability do in this country divide between them the joint product in nearly equal portions. But those who make use of the socialistic formula use it with a meaning very different from the above. When they say that Ability and Labour contribute equally to producing a given amount of wealth, they mean not that the men who exercise one faculty produce collectively as much as the men who exercise the other; for that might mean thatfive hundred men of Abilityproduced as much asfive hundred thousand labourers; and that is the very position which the Socialists desire to combat. They mean something which is the exact reverse of this: not that one faculty produces as much as the other faculty, but that one man produces as much as, and no more than another man, no matter which faculty he exercises in the producing process. They mean notthat the faculty of Labour which an ordinary ploughman represents, produces as much as the faculty represented by an Arkwright or by a Stevenson, but that the individual ploughman, by the single task which he himself performs, adds as much to his country’s wealth as the creators of the spinning-frame and the locomotive.
◆1 Their meaning needs only to be clearly stated to show its absurdity.
◆¹ As soon as we realise that this is what the argument means, its apparent plausibility turns into a sort of absurdity which common sense rejects, even before seeing why it does so. We will not, however, be content with dismissing the argument as absurd: there is an idea at the back of it which requires and deserves to be examined. It is an idea which rests upon the fact already alluded to, that though Ability can make nothing without Labour, Labour can make something without Ability; and that thus the labourers who work under the direction of an able man each contribute a kind of exertion more essential to the result than he does. Each can say to him, “I am something without you. You, on the contrary, are nothing without me.” Thus there arises a more or less conscious idea of Labour as a force which, if only properly organised, will be able at any moment,by refusing to exert itself, to render Ability helpless, and so bring it to terms and become its master, instead of being, as now, its servant.
◆1 But in it there is, indeed, a plausible view as to Labour, which must be refuted, not only ridiculed. According to this view, Labour can always bring Ability to terms by refusing to exert itself.
◆2 But Labour cannot refuse to exert itself for long, and never except with the assistance of Capital.
◆3 Nature, not the men of ability, forces the majority of men to Labour.
◆¹ But this idea, which is suggested, and seems to be supported, by the modern development of labour-organisation and strikes, really ignores the most fundamental facts of the case. In the first place, it may be observed that though Ability, regarded as a faculty, is no doubt helpless unless there is Labour for it to act upon, Ability, if we take it to mean the men possessing the faculty, is, whatever happens, in as good a position as Labour; for the average man of ability can always become a labourer. But the principal point to realise is far more important than this. We are perfectly right in saying, as was said just now, that if Labour should refuse to exert itself, Ability could produce nothing; but it seems completely to escape the notice of those who use this argument that to refuse to exert itself is what Labour can never do, except for very short times, and to a quite unimportant extent; and it can only do thus much when Ability indirectly helps it. The ideas of the power of Labour which are suggested by the phenomenon of thestrike are, as I shall by and by show more fully, curiously fallacious. ◆² Men can strike—that is to say, cease to labour—only when they have some store on which to live when they are idle; and such a store is nothing but so much Capital. A strike, therefore, represents the power not of Labour, but of Capital.[39]The Capital which is available in the present day for supporting strikes would never have been in existence but for the past action of Ability; and what is still more important, a widespread strike would very quickly exhaust it. Further, a strike, no matter what Capital were at the back of it, could never be more than partial for even a single day; for there are many kinds of Labour, such as transport and distribution of food, the constant performance of which is required by even the humblest lives. But it is not necessary to dwell on such small matters as these. It is enough to point to the fact, which does not require proving—the broad fact that men, taken as a whole, can no more refuse to labour than they can refuse to breathe. ◆³ What compels themto labour is not the employing class, but Nature. The employing class—the men of ability—merely compel them to labour in a special way.
◆1 But Nature forces no one to exert Ability; therefore Ability is, in the long run, in a stronger position than Labour.
But Ability itself stands on an entirely different footing. Whereas Labour, as a whole, cannot cease to exert itself, Ability can. Indeed, for long periods of history it has hardly exerted itself at all; whilst its full industrial power, as we know it now, only began to be felt a century and a half ago. Labour, in other words, represents a necessary kind of exertion, which can always be counted on as we count on some force of Nature: Ability represents a voluntary kind of exertion, which can only be induced to manifest itself under certain special circumstances. Accordingly, ◆¹ whilst Labour can make no terms with Nature, Ability in the long run can always make terms with Labour. It will thus be seen that the set of arguments founded on the conception of Labour as stronger than Ability, because more necessary, are arguments founded on a complete misconception of facts. I speak of them as arguments; but they hardly deserve the name. Rather they are vague ideas that float in the minds of many people, and suggest beliefs oropinions to which they can give no logical basis. At all events, after what has been said, we may dismiss them from our thoughts, and turn to another fallacy that lurks in the socialistic formula.
◆1 Let us now test the socialistic view by examples:
◆2 By the case of an organist and the man who blows the bellows;
◆3 Or of a great painter and the man who stretches his canvas.
◆¹ I said of that formula that, the moment its meaning was realised, it struck the mind as an absurdity, even before the mind knew why. Let us now apply it to two simple cases, which will show its absurdity in a yet more striking manner. ◆² There is an old story commonly told of Handel. The great composer had been playing some magnificent piece of music on the organ; and as soon as the last vibration of inspired sound had subsided, he was greeted by the voice of the man who blew the bellows, saying, “I think that we two played that beautifully.” “We!” exclaimed Handel. “What had you to do with it?” He turned again to the keys, and struck them, but not a note came. “Ha!” said the bellows-blower, “what have I to do with it? Admit that I have as much to do with it as you have, or I will not give you the power to sound a single chord.” The whole point of this story lies in the fact that the argument of the bellows-blower, thoughpossessed of a certain plausibility, is at the same time obviously absurd. But according to the principles of the Socialists, it is absolutely and entirely true. It exhibits those principles applied in the most perfect way. ◆³ With just the same force, it may be said about a great picture by the man who has woven the canvas, or tacked it to its wooden frame. This man may, according to the socialistic theory of production, call the picture the socialised product of the great painter and himself, and, though no more able to draw than a child of four years old, may put himself on a level with a Millais or an Alma Tadema. To the production of the result the canvas is as necessary as the painter.
◆1 The socialistic view of production would be true only were a certain fact of life quite different to what it is.
The nature of the fallacy which leads us to such conclusions as these is revealed almost instantly by the light such conclusions throw on it. It consists in ignoring the fact that whilst anybody, not a cripple or idiot, can blow the bellows of an organ, or stretch the canvas for a picture, only one man in a million can make music like Handel, or cover the canvas with pictures like Millais or Alma Tadema. The nature of the situation will be understood most accurately if we imagine thebellows-blower at the key-board of the organ, and the canvas-stretcher with the painter’s brushes. The one, no doubt, could elicit a large volume of sound; the other could cover the canvas with daubs of unmeaning colour. These men, then, when they work for the artists of whom we speak, may very properly be credited with a share in as much of the result as would have been produced if they had been in the artists’ places. That is to say, to the production of mere sound the bellows-blower may be held to contribute as much as the great musician; and the canvas-stretcher as much as the painter to the mere laying on of colour. But all the difference between an unmeaning discord and music, all the difference between an unmeaning daub and a picture, is due to qualities that are possessed by no one except the musician and the painter.[40]◆¹ Thesocialistic theory of production would be true only on the supposition that the faculties employed in production were all equally common, and that everybody is equally capable of exertion of every grade. Now is this supposition true, or is it not true? A moment ago I spoke of it, assuming it to be obviously false; and many people will think it is hardly worth discussion. That, however, is far from being the case. It is a supposition which, as we have seen, lies at the very root of Socialism: the question it involves is a broad question of fact; and it is necessary, by an appeal to fact, to show that it is as false as I have assumed it to be.
◆1 The great feature in modern production is the progress in the productivity of the same number of men.
◆¹ Let me once again, then, state the great proposition which I am anxious to put beyond the reach of all denial or misconception. A given number of people, a hundred years ago, produced yearly in this countrya hundredand forty million pounds. The same number of people to-day produce two and a half times as much. Labour, a hundred years ago, could not have produced more than the total product of the community—that is to say,a hundred and forty million pounds; and, if it produced that then, it produces no more now. The whole added product is produced by the action of Ability. The proposition is a double one. Let us take the two parts in order.
◆1 History shows us that Labour is not progressive, except within very narrow limits that were reached long ago, or, at all events, by the end of the last century.
◆¹ I have already here and there pointed out in passing how certain special advances in the productive powers of the community were due demonstrably to Ability, not to Labour; but I have waited till our argument had arrived at its present stage to insist on the general truth that, except within very narrow limits, Labour is, in its very nature, not progressive at all. If we cast our eyes backwards as far into the remote past as any records or relics of human existence will carry us, we can indeed discern three steps in industrial progress, which we may, if we please, attribute to the self-development of Labour—the use of stone, the use of bronze, and the use of iron. But these steps followed each other slowly,and at immeasurable intervals; and though the last was taken in the early morning of history, yet Labour even then had, in certain respects, reached for thousands of years an efficiency which it has never since surpassed. In the lake-dwellings of Switzerland, which belong to the age of stone, objects have been found which bear witness to a manual skill equal to that of the most dexterous workmen of to-day. No labour, again, is more delicate than that of engraving gems; and yet the work of the finest modern gem-engravers is outdone by that of the ancient Greeks and Romans. It was even found, when the unburied ship of a Viking was being reproduced for the International Exhibition at Chicago, that in point of mere workmanship, with all our modern appliances, it was impossible to make the copy any better than the original; whilst, if we institute a comparison with times nearer our own—especially if we come to the close of the last century—it is hardly necessary to say that in every operation which depended on training of eye and hand, the great-grandfathers of the present generation were the equals of their great-grandsons.
◆1 Let us then compare the workers of that period with their great-grandsons of to-day.
◆¹ We will therefore content ourselves with comparing the labourers of to-day with the labourers of the days of Pitt; and with regard to those two sets of men, we may safely say this, that in whatever respect the latter seem able to do more than the former, their seemingly increased power can be definitely and distinctly traced to some source outside themselves, from which it has been taken and lent to them—in other words, to the ability of some one able man, or else to the joint action of a body of able men. A single illustration is sufficient to prove this. It consists of a fact to which I have alluded in general terms already. It is as follows:—
◆1 We shall see that in Labour itself there has been no progress whatsoever. Ability has been the sole progressive agent.
When Watt had perfected his steam-engine in structure, design, and principle, and was able to make a model which was triumphantly successful in its working, he encountered an obstacle of which few people are aware, and which, had it not been overcome, would have made the development of steam-power, as we know it now, an utter impossibility. It was indeed, in the opinion of the engineer Smeaton, fatal to the success of Watt’s steam-engine altogether. This obstacle was thedifficulty of making cylinders, of any useful size, sufficiently true to keep the pistons steam-tight. Watt, with indomitable perseverance, endeavoured to train men to the degree of accuracy required, by setting them to work at cylinders, and at nothing else; and by inducing fathers to bring up their sons with them in the workshop, and thus from their earliest youth habituate them to this single task. By this means, in time, a band of labourers was secured in whom skill was raised to the highest point of which it is capable. ◆¹ But not even all the skill of those carefully-trained men—men trained by the greatest mechanical genius of the modern world—was equal to making cylinders approaching the standard of accuracy which was necessary to render the steam-engine, as we now know it, a possibility. But what the Labour of the cleverest labourer could never be brought to accomplish, was instantly and with ease accomplished by the action of Ability. Henry Maudslay, by introducing the slide-rest, did at a single stroke for all the mechanics in the country what Watt, after years of effort, was unable to do for any of them. TheAbility of Maudslay, congealed in this beautiful instrument, took the tool out of the hands of Labour at the turning-lathe, and held it to the surface of the cylinder, whilst Labour looked on and watched. With this iron “mate” lent to him,—this child of an alien brain,—the average mechanic was enabled to accomplish wonders which no mechanic in the world by his own skill could approach. The power of one man descended at once on a thousand workshops, and sat on each of the labourers like the fire of an industrial Pentecost; and their own personal efficiency, which was the slowly-matured product of centuries, was, by a power acting outside themselves, increased a hundredfold in the course of a few years.
◆1 There is, however, a plausible objection to this view which we must consider.
◆¹ Illustrations of this kind might be multiplied without limit; but nothing could add to the force of the one just given, or show more clearly how the productivity of Labour is fixed, and the power of Ability, and of Ability alone, is progressive. There is, however, a very important argument which objectors may use here with so much apparent force that, although it is entirely fallacious, it requires to be considered carefully.