What Is Property?
Pierre-Joseph Proudhon
[1840 / Part 5 of 16]
CHAPTER IV
THAT PROPERTY IS IMPOSSIBLE
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, --
1. 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.
2. It is universally admitted. No one can deny it without denying
the facts, without being instantly belied by universal custom.
3. 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.
4. 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
/ 2 1/2 = 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, Maculloch [sic] , 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. -- 1. 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."
2. 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.
