Neo-Georgism and The Quest For Justice
Robert V. Andelson
[Reprinted from Land & Liberty,
When the author of Progress &
Poverty died in 1897, he left behind a world-wide movement
composed of people who called themselves "Georgists". In
this reassessment of Henry George's influence, H. V. Andelson -
professor of philosophy at Auburn University, Alabama - argues that
an uncritical support of the original works of George serves to
retard the prospects of achieving the fiscal reform - land value
taxation for which the "Prophet of San Francisco"
campaigned. Prof. Andelson is Editor of Critics of Henry George,
which was published last year by Fairleigh Dickinson University
The age in which we live is marked by what is sometimes termed a "crisis
of identity." On college and university campuses, especially, the
query arises from students on every hand: "Who am I?" Our
movement, too, appears to be afflicted by this crisis -- as witnessed
by the continuing debate over what we ought to call ourselves.
I intend to examine some of the options, and then suggest one of my
own. My suggestion, however, will encompass not merely a proposal for
a name, but also (and more importantly) a statement of what I think we
really stand for.
Although there are doubtless others, I have personal knowledge of
only three or four individuals who actually call themselves "single
taxers". I strongly sympathize with what I apprehend to be the
reason for their choice, namely, that it underscores our opposition to
the arbitrary and indiscriminate exercise of the taxing power. Yet
there are a number of counts on which I find the appellation
unsatisfactory. To begin with, Henry George himself was never happy
with it. While he accepted it as a concession to popular usage, he did
not consider it descriptively accurate. First, Seligman to the
contrary notwithstanding, the "singleness" aspect of
George's remedy is not its central feature; second, the remedy isn't
technically a tax at all but rather a public fee for a special
benefit. Moreover, the name implies that what we advocate is a mere
revenue reform, rather than a thorough-going philosophy of justice.
Finally, it relegates us to what Heilbroner calls "the underworld
of economics" by identifying us in an unqualified way with a
position which is today generally, even if mistakenly, perceived as an
exploded panacea belonging to the final decades of the last century.
Morgan Harris holds that the ideal title for us would be "untaxers,"
and, in the face of Proposition 13, it would be foolish to deny that
this term might have considerable popular appeal. But to call
ourselves "untaxers" would be to focus on but one aspect of
what George proposed, to separate it from its moral framework, and to
fail to distinguish us from the anarchists, who want to abolish
taxation because they want to abolish even the minimal state.
"Incentive taxation" may be dismissed out-of-hand, since
too many people misconstrue it as a meaning that incentive should be
taxed. Furthermore, it shares with "land-value taxation," "site-value
taxation," and the other terms I have discussed so far, the
defect of being too narrow -- of giving the impression that we stand
for nothing but a fiscal reform, however vital that reform may be.
We are confronted in Marxism not with a mere fiscal proposal but with
a full-orbed ideology -- twisted, self-contradictory, vicious, yet
nonetheless insidiously seductive. As I remarked in my column in The
Analyst when I was director of the Henry George School in San
Diego nearly twenty years ago, one ideology can only be driven out by
another. We, too, have a full-orbed ideology. Let's not hesitate to
present it as such. College students, in particular, are turned off by
the pastiche of business, union, and government monopolies mislabelled
"capitalism." They're disillusioned with the half-measures
of the "mixed economies," and with the counter-productivity
of the welfare state. They are repelled by the hideousness which
communism has everywhere exhibited in practice, and know that such
socialist democracies as have managed to stay afloat have done so only
to the extent to which their socialism has been honoured more in the
breech than the observance.
Young people are seeking an alternative. Many are turning toward
libertarianism, and I think this is all to the good. But for a
libertarian, there are only two consistent possibilities. One is to go
with Murray Rothbard and Bob LeFevre, and jettison the state
completely. The other is to accept the concept of a limited
government, supported by payments for benefits received Although
superficially attractive, the first of these is, in my judgement, both
theoretically and practically unsound. I refer those who wish to
explore this topic to the arguments of Robert Nozick, which I find
persuasive. The second is the alternative which we alone can offer.
To non-anarchist libertarians who do not concur with our alternative,
I pose this question: even a minimal state must somehow be supported.
Shall it be supported by coercive imposts upon private earnings? Or
shall it be supported, at least as far as possible, by a fund created
by society itself, a fund that if not taken for the common use,
operates as a crippling gyve upon labour and capital alike? I am not
ashamed to associate myself with the name of Henry George. Never has
any social movement had a worthier founder. Unlike so many messianic
leaders, he was a humanitarian, a genuine philanthropist, conscious of
his worth yet at the same time unassuming. His personal life, though
marked by many ups and downs, was never marred by pettiness nor
tainted by scandal. The loftiness of his motives was granted by even
his most intractable opponents. As a literary stylist, he has no peer.
As a social critic and philosopher, he stands in the very first rank,
head and shoulders above any other that this nation has produced. And
as a technical economist, his competence was attested by no less an
authority than Joseph Schumpeter, probably the foremost economic
historian of our era.
Why, then, am I reluctant to go on calling myself simply a Georgist?
The answer is that to do so is to imply a doctrinaire, uncritical
acceptance of every detail of his thought - to destroy one's
credibility and to court dismissal.
For Henry George, despite his greatness, was not infallible. My
recent editorial task forced me to appreciate his greatness more than
I ever had before, but also to become more conscious of his flaws.
Even Schumpeter, who rates him very highly, points out his failure to
understand the seminal contributions of Marshall and Bohm-Bawerk. And
most contemporary economists, whose grasp of economic history and
theory is far weaker and less informed than Schumpeter's, perceive
George as nothing but the peddler of an outmoded nostrum.
We, who would promote the essence of what George taught, owe it to
the cause for which he literally laid down his life, to present it in
as credible a light as possible. We must divest ourselves of anything
that connotes unthinking dogmatism. We must let no one imagine that we
are impervious to economic insights that have occurred since George
arrived at his. We can do this, I submit, and still affirm our debt to
him. We can do it by calling ourselves "Neo-Georgists."
By calling ourselves Neo-Georgists, we can acknowledge him as our
primary source of information without giving the impression that we
are necessarily wedded to what Professor Cord so aptly terms his "all-devouring
rent thesis," to his notion that wages and interest rise and fall
in unison, to his assumption that land held for speculation is
characteristically kept absolutely idle, to his theory of the
reproductive modes of interest, or to his fancy that "the earth
could maintain a thousand billions of people as easily as a thousand
I'm not saying categorically that George was wrong in all these
cases. I think, for instance, that probably the natural tendency is
for wages and interest to rise and fall in unison, and that this
tendency has been simply overcome, for the most part, by
countervailing influences. But at present there is no conclusive
empirical evidence to support the theory, and a considerable amount of
data which might seem to tell against it. The point is that every one
of these ideas, whether defensible or not, is almost universally held
to be discredited. I see no reason why we need be any longer hampered
by them, since, in my considered opinion, they can be discarded
without serious detraction from George's basic thrust. Neither need we
continue to be hampered by that misleading slogan, "We must make
land common property," which has hung from the beginning around
the neck of our movement like a millstone. By calling ourselves
Neo-Georgists instead of Georgists, we can rid ourselves not only of
these unnecessary burdens, but also of that simplistic and dismissive
series of patronizing associations which we've all encountered: Henry
George -- single-tax -- panacea -nineteenth century - etc.
The modern friend of George's teaching who views the "Prophet of
San Francisco" as a profound and perceptive guide rather than as
an omniscient oracle, will find the elegant symmetry of his system
vitiated somewhat by the qualifications and adjustments dictated by
candid analysis in the light of changed circumstances and refinements
in economic methodology. Neo-Georgism will be less satisfying than the
original article from an aesthetic standpoint. But aesthetic
satisfaction must yield to intellectual honesty, and the fundamental
core of George's thought remains, in any event, intact.
What, then, is the fundamental core of George's thought to
which we remain committed, and what are the modifications as to policy
proposals which Neo-Georgism would entail?
Let us begin with George's moral presuppositions: the labour theory
of ownership, and the belief in natural rights which underlines it.
Those who espouse our goals without sharing these presuppositions may
be considered allies, and I welcome their support with all my heart.
But Georgists or Neo-Georgists they are not. For any system tied even
by a prefix to the name of George, would be unthinkable apart from
these decisive moral insights. His economic methodology may have been,
as he claimed, value-free. But he was more than economist. Above all
else, he was a teacher of righteousness.
After a long period of dormancy in intellectual circles, the concept
of natural rights has undergone something of a revival, evidenced most
prominently, perhaps, today in the work of Rawls and Nozick. Thinkers
like Sir Isaiah Berlin and Alan Gewirth have argued that it is a
necessary deduction from the rules of logic. Although I am personally
attracted by this essentially Kantian approach, I question whether,
unamended, it can survive the objections of critics such as R. M.
Hare. I agree that certain moral conclusions follow from the structure
of rationality. But the duty to be rational, I am persuaded, insofar
as it exists, demands (as Kant himself recognized) axiological -- or,
if you will, theological - assumptions. Be this as it may, the
important thing for our position is to recognize that natural rights
do exist -- rights not created by the state, rights which precede all
human laws and institutions. If we abandon this, the remaining views
of George which we embrace may contain keen economic analysis,
valuable sociological theory and timely policy prescription, but they
will never add up to a fall-scale ideology because an essential
philosophical dimension will be lacking.
As for the labour theory of ownership, although it has been the
subject of attack ever since its enunciation by John Locke, I do not
find any of the attacks convincing, and know of no other satisfactory
moral rationale for the distinction between mine and thine. The
first-occupancy theory, favoured by anarcho-capitalists like Rothbard,
on the one hand, and by conservative Roman Catholic writers like
Father Victor Cathrein, on the other, involves unstated premises
which, when exposed, render the theory wholly untenable. The
social-utility theory, asserted by such otherwise disparate thinkers
as Seligman, Carver, and Msgr. John A. Ryan, would make ownership,
like all other individual rights, dependent upon whether or not it is
deemed useful to society. The crucial problem here is that of
determining who is to define the criteria for usefulness. The fact
that the very thinkers I have mentioned as asserting this theory are
far from in agreement as to these criteria, suggests how frail a
surety (or individual rights the theory offers. I am not, of course,
implying that all who hold the labour theory of ownership are
in perfect harmony as to its application. But their differences can be
resolved by rational analysis; the major differences among the social
utility theorists cannot because they stem from ultimate differences
in value judgment.
If we affirm the labour theory of ownership, as I think we must, two
deductions follow ineluctably. First, that there can be no legitimate
human title to property in nature, since nature was not created by
human labour. Second, that since production is impossible without
access to nature, the authority to require private tribute for such
access violates the only kind of ownership which has a moral basis.
Whence arises rent? What gives nature a market value? What other than
the growth of the community? Not growth in population merely, although
that is certainly a factor, but also growth in technological and
commercial development, in cultural amenities and in public services.
Pure rent is a social product; therefore, it belongs to society by
If I were to try to put the crux of Henry George's message in a
nutshell, it would be this. In the distribution of wealth, the just
satisfaction of individual claims ordains that society's claim be also
justly met; that the recognition of legitimate personal property
rights necessitates the recognition of legitimate social property
rights. For the value of raw land is the result of labour --
the labour of the community -- while the land itself constitutes the
natural material of opportunity, apart from which labour cannot
function or indeed exist. Hence, natural opportunity should be open on
the same terms to all, and socially created values socially
appropriated, while the rewards of nonpredatory private effort should
be left inviolate to their producers or to the designees thereof.
The distinctive genius of Henry George is not manifested in his
having been the first to grasp this concept, for he was not, but in
the fact that he elaborated it more fully and articulated it more
powerfully than anyone before or since.
The application of this concept, as conceived by George, envisages a
system of public revenue which is much more than a system of public
revenue. It envisages the exercise of the taxing power to ensure a "fair
field and no favour" by collecting, not a true tax, but rather a
public fee from those whose enjoyment of public benefits limits the
availability of those benefits to others.
Since the exclusive use and disposition of a site is a benefit
received by the owner at the expense of the rest of society, the
Neo-Georgist will follow George in insisting that, apart from a modest
"brokerage commission," this benefit be paid for in full, as
measured by the market value of the site. Quite apart from its
commanding equity, this levy commends itself on fiscal grounds because
of its nonshiftability and its benign effect upon production.
But the Neo-Georgist will not be a single-taxer, for four reasons.
First, because, even conceding the savings in domestic expenditure to
be anticipated from this reform, and conceding also that the potential
land rent fund is far greater than is commonly appreciated, it is
doubtful that legitimate public functions could today be wholly met
from rent in view of the enormous costs of national defense. Second,
because the exclusive use and disposition of a site is not the only
special benefits afforded by society. Third, because if fees for
special benefits prove insufficient to meet the expense of genuinely
necessary public services, general levies to make up the difference
are quite justified. Finally, because in times of desparate national
emergency when, in the words of the late Harry Gunnison Brown, "millions
of men might be required to risk their lives at the fighting front,"
considerations of actual national survival might temporarily warrant
whatever measures were capable of raising the needed revenue most
quickly and efficiently.
Let me hasten to emphasize, however, that to say that all these
levies can be justified is not to say that they can all be justified
under the same conditions or to the same degree. Neo-Georgism stands
for a definite order of priorities, governed by the benefit principle.
In contrast to the "single-tax limited" of Thomas Shear-man
and Charles B. Fillebrown, it calls for the public capture of the full
land rent, less a percentage just large enough to induce owners to
retain private title. Only after this has been applied to the cost of
essential public services will it recognize the suitability of other
special benefit fees such as use taxes, of which the gasoline tax
(assuming it be spent on highways and related functions) is a prime
example. For if these other special benefits could be funded out of
rent without diminishing necessary services of a general nature, to
provide them free would involve no social sacrifice comparable to that
sustained when natural opportunity is monopolized. If there were a
surplus in the rent fund, I would personally prefer to see it
allocated as a per capita dividend to be invested or consumed
according to private choice, rather than spent, in part, on public
dancing halls and shooting galleries, as George suggested in what I
can only interpret as a flight of whimsy. Still, in this hypothetical
eventuality, even frivolous expenditure would not impose a burden.
Unfortunately, we live in the real world, and in the real world
today, I fear, use taxes could be charged to the limit and something
approaching the whole of economic rent applied to those general public
services which a libertarian like Hayek or Nozick could consider
proper, yet those services might still require additional support.
This being the case, Neo-Georgism would advocate some sort of general
levy approximating objective equality possibly a nongraduated
percentage of incomes) to take up the slack. Levies apportioned
according to criteria other than special and then general benefit
would be acceded to only as a temporary last resort in extraordinary
Within less than two years of its publication by a commercial press,
Progress and Poverty was a runaway best-seller, and its
author's name an international household word. By contrast, the only
volume of Das Kapital that appeared in Marx's lifetime was
barely noticed. Yet today, Henry George is relatively forgotten, while
half the world calls itself Marxist. Does this indicate that Marxism
has proved itself a viable system, and that the thought of George is
nothing but a burned-out meteor that once briefly lit the sky of
social protest and reform? Scarcely.
Marxism has not, in point of fact, demonstrated its viability as a
system. It is rife with ambiguities and contradictions, both
philosophical and economic, while to the extent that it may be said to
have been implemented with any degree of material success, its toll in
human life and freedom has been so great as to render it utterly
repugnant to all but the most callous. For the effectiveness of
Marxism lies neither in its cogency as an intellectual system nor in
its utility as a constructive programme; it lies rather in its
propaganda value as a revolutionary myth -- a myth with spurious but
well-advertised pretensions to scientific authority and historical
inevitability. It is these pretensions, providing as they do both an
aureole of seeming dignity and a promise of triumph to the aspirations
of the "have-nots," that give Marxism its potent appeal to
the mass-minded and cause it to be embraced, at least in name, by so
many of the power-seekers who pose as saviours to the "wretched
of the earth."