The coöperative commonwealth in its outlines. An exposition of modern socialism

Front matter

ifeir^^"

THE

IN ITS OUTLINES.

Chap. I. The Peofit System 12

Chap. n. Social Axaechy 34

Chap. HE. The Culmination 55

Chap. IY. The Spheee of the State 75 Chap. Y. Expediency of the

Coopeeatiye Commonwealth 100

Chap. VI. Social Economy 132

Chap. YII. Democeacy

vs, Paety Goyeenment 155

Chap. IX. Administeation of Justice 186

Chap. X. Woman 201

Cham. XI. Education 215

Chap. XH. Moeals 234

Chap. Xm. The Coming Eevolutton 259

TO THE READER.

A dialogue on '' Political Optimism" in the Nineteenth Cerirtury for August, 1880, contains the following language :

"We see that political systems in all progressive societies tend toward socialistic democracy. We see everywhere that it must come to that. We all of us feel this conviction, or all of us, I suppose, who have reflected on the matter. We feel, too, that nothing we can do can avert or possibly long delay the consummation. Then, we must believe that the movement is being guided, or is guiding itself to happy issues."

This passage may serve as a key to the following pages.

They have been written that you may see that the social and political phenomena in all progressive countries, and particularly in our own country and Great Britain, are, in a perfectly natural manner, evolving a New Social Order, a Social Democratic Order, which we have called The Cooperative Commonwealth ; in other words, — to speak pointedly, — that Socialism is no importation, but a home-growth^ wherever found. They are written to give you good reasons for expecting that this New Social Order will be, indeed, a " happy issue " to the brain-worker as well as to the hand-worker, to woman as well as to man. They are written to give reasons for our convictions that it must come to that, here as elsewhere, within a comparatively short period, or to barbarism.

Barbarism ! — Yes. Let not yourself be led astray by the remarkable increase everywhere of wealth on the whole, — possibly the under-current is, nevertheless, carrying us swiftly backwards. Suppose you had told a Roman citizen in the age of Augustus that his proud country then had entered on its decline, — as every school-boy now knows it had, — he would have thought you insane. Now, the many striking parallels between that period and the times in which we are living

8 INTRODUCTORY.

must have forced themselves on your attention, if you are of a reflective turn of mind, as we assume you are. You will have observed the same destructive forces to which History attributes the fall of pagan Rome busily at work under your very eyes. You see the same mad chase after wealth; you find everywhere the same deadening scepticism in regard to high ideals. You observe in all our centres of activity a corruption — I will not say as great as, but — promising in due time to rival that of the Roman Empire. Be careful not to be too scornful if we prophesy that in, say, twenty-five years from now, — if not the Cooperative Commonwealth should then, perchance, be realized — the demagogues of New York City will buy voters by free public feasts and theatricals, that you will hear the cry of "pawem et circenses " — "give us bread and circuses," if you live then ! Indeed, we have already read in the N. Y. Tribune : " Every one of our civil Justices has given a day's ' outing ' to the wives and children of his district." Even now in many of the States wealth seems a pre-requisite to the attainment of Senatorial honors and millionaires and sons of millionaires are bidding for seats in the lower house of Congress.

But, for reasons hereafter set forth, we do not believe our race will return to barbarism. The Roman Empire was saved from that fate, finally, by being reanimated. Our age as fully needs reanimation as the period of the Caesars. We shall be reanimated : history will once more see Society reconstructed on a new basis.

Says Huxley : " The reconstruction of Society on a scientific basis is not only possible, but the only political object much worth striving for." True, emphatically true ! Except so far as it is implied in this sentence that any individual or any nation can go to work and arbitrarily reconstruct Society on a scientific or any other basis.

Socialism — modern Socialism, German Socialism, which is fast becoming the Socialism the world over — holds that the impending reconstruction of Society will be brought about by the Logic of Events ; teaches that The Coming Bevolution is strictly an Evolution. Socialists of that school reason from no

INTRODUCTORY. 9

assumed first principle, like the French who start from " Social equality " or like Herbert Spencer, when m his Social Statics he lays it down as an axiom, that " every man has freedom to do all that he wills, provided he infringes not the like freedom of every other man ; " but basing themselves on experience — not individual but universal experience — they can and do present clear-cut, definite solutions.

It is this German Socialism which is presented in the following pages, with this important modification that it has been digested by a mind, Anglo-Saxon in its dislike of all extravagancies and in its freedom from any vindictive feeling against persons^ who are from circumstances what they are. In the first three chapters we present the Socialist critique of the phenomena of the era in which we are living ; in the next three chapters we indicate the coming Social order which will, probably, develop itself out of the present system ; in the three that follow we outline the political and legal machinery which very likely will be found necessary to the working of that new order ; in chapters X, XI and XII, we point out the principal social effects which may be expected to follow from it, and in the last chapter we consider how the revolution — the change — is likely to be accomplished in our country and England.

We believe it is time that a work, containing all the leading tenets of Socialism in a concise, consecutive form should be presented in the English language— in the language of the two countries where the social, and specially the industrial conditions, are ripening quicker than anywhere else. Such a work, in fact, exists nowhere. Whenever any one now wishes to inform himself on the subject he has to wade through Innumerable books and pamphlets, mostly German. That such a candid man as John S. Mill, who had a truly Socialist heart, did not become a Socialist we attribute to this fragmentary shape of SoQ»lalist thought, and that in a tongue unknown to him ; for his " Chapters on Socialism," published after his death, show that he was familiar only with French speculations, of a time when Socialism was yet in its infancy. We can dismiss nearly all that thus fiir has been written in our language by Socialists on the subject with the remark that it is not exactly adapted

10 INTRODUCTORY.

to people of judgment and culture. We think that all Americans who simply want to be well-informed ought to make themselves acquainted with this new philosophy — and Socialism is nothing less than that — which is believed in by hundreds of thousands of our fellow-men with a fervor equalling the enthusiasm of the early Christians. We think they will make themselves acquainted with it, as soon as it is presented to them in readable English, and applied to American phenomeaa and American conditions by a writer possessing the American bias for the practical. Such Socialism, whether true or false, whether destined to be successful or unsuccessful, is a matter that concerns you personally.

But if the writer of this work did not hope to accomplish something beyond giving some, or even many, Americans more correct notions of the aims of Socialists than those they have, it would never have been written. We have a deeper purpose, far nearer our heart. Most reflective minds, if they do not go the whole length of the one who speaks in the dialogue with which we started, do admit that we are at the brink of an extraordinary change ; that a crisis of some sort is impending, no matter if it is likely to burst out now or in ten or fifty years from now. We then say that the only thing that can save us and our children from horrors, ten-fold worse than those of the French Revolution, that can save us from the infliction of such a scourge as Napoleon, will be the activity of a minority, acting as the brains of the Revolution. For while there will be a revolution, it need not necessarily be one marked by blood. We hope it will not be such a one : a revolution by violence is to Society what a hurricane is to a ship struggling on the stormy ocean ; it is only by herculean eftbrts that we shall succeed in avoiding the rocks and bring it into the secure haven, and even then we shall be bat at the threshold of our task.

But, then, we must first have in our country this minority ; a vigorous minority, even if but a small one ; a minority of intelligent and energetic American men and women ; a minority with sound convictions as to what the crisis means and

INTRODUCTORY. 1 1

how it may be made to redound to the welfare of the whole of Society and with the courage of their convictions. Such a minority will be indispensable to render the revolution a blessing, whether it comes peaceably or forcibly. Not that this minority is to make the coming Revolution — an individual, a clique, a majority even can as little make a revolution as the fly makes the carriage wheel roll ; the Revolution makes itself or '' grows itself; " — but this minority is to prepare for it and, when the decisive moment has arrived, act on the masses, as the power acts on the lever. To reach and possibly win this minority — ^however small — this book has mainly been written.

We shall, for that purpose, address ourselves to the reflective minds of all classes, rich as well as poor, professional as well as working men — and, indeed, many, very many, literary men and women, very many lawyers, very many physicians and teachers are just as much in need of this Coming Revolution as most working men. But we shall assume, reader, that you are not one of those who are personally interested in the maintenance of the present Social Order, or rather Social AnarchijSov then it is hopeless to try to win you over. Very likely you will deem it a difficult feat to wm you over, to turn you into a Socialist — All we ask of you is with us to view familiar facts of life from a standpoint, very dift'erent from the one you have hitherto been occupying, to look at them in other lights and shades, and then await the resulc. A man is never the same any more after he has once got a new impression. Much that we are going to say cannot but shock your preconceived ideas, but from St. Paul down many have been indignant at first hearing what afterwards became their most cherished convictions. We shall discard all common-places and phrases and throughout be mindful of Samuel Johnson's admonition : " Let us empty our minds of cant, gentlemen ! "

THE COOPERATIVE COMMONWEALTH.

Chapter I. The Profit System

" The working class is the only class which is not a class. It is the nation. It represents, so to speak, the body as a whole, of which the other classes only represent special organs. These organs, no doubt, have great and indispensable functions, but for most purposes of government the State consists of the vast laboring majority. Its welfare depends on what their lives are like." — Frederic Harrisan.

"They (Political Economists) are men of only one idea — Wealth, how to procure and increase it. Their rules seemed infallibly certain to that supreme end. What did it signify that a great part of mankind was made mean while even more wi'etched than before, provided wealth on the whole increased?" — Catholic Quarterly Beview^ Jan. 1880.

''That the masses of men are robbed of their fair earnings — that they have to work much harder than they ought to work for a very much poorer living than they ought to get, is to my mind clear." — Henry George,

THE PROFIT SYSTEM.

We shall commence with an object lesson ; it will consist chiefly of figures, and figures are tiresome things ; — but the lesson will be a short one. Herearefour diagrams, — ''cakes" let us call them :

Wages for

957,000

" hands."

$ 437,000,000.

Wages foi

Surplus,

1,300,000

" hands."

53 per cent.

$ 805,000,000.

Wages for 3,000,000 «• hands. "

Surplus, 53 per cent.

$ 1,310,000,000.

Wages for

3,739,000

"hands."

Surplus,

48 1-3 per cent.

$ 1,834,000,000.

These "cakes " represent the net produce of all manufacturing

14 THE PKOFIT SYSTEM.

industries of the United States for the respective years; mark ! not the gross value of the products on leaving the factories, but only that value which has been given to them in the factories minus the wear and tear of machinery. That is to say, we have arrived at the above figures by first adding the value of the raw materials and the depreciation of all machinery, implements and buildings together, and then deducthig that sum from the value of the finished products. The value of the raw-materials used, and the gross value we have gathered from the respective U. S. Census Reports, but for the estimate of the wear and tear of machinery &c there are absolutely no data anywhere to be had. We have taken five per cent, of all the capital invested in all manufactures in the respective years as probably a fair estimate of such wear and tear, as but a small part of all capital is invested in machinery an d implements, where most of the wear and tear occurs. Supposing that we are somewhat out of the way on one side or the other in this guess, it will not materially affect the conclusions of this chapter.

Observe, first, that these " cakes" grow at an even and a very great rate ;

The cake of 1850 has a value of $ 437 million dollars ; that of 1860 '' " '' " 805 '' "

that of 1870 (reduced to gold) 1310 '' "

that of 1880 a value of 1834 " ''

Observe, next, that these *' cakes " are divided by a vertical line into two very nearly equal portions. That to the left was paid to the workers in the form of wages; that to the right we shall, for the time being, call the " Surplus."

Note, also, — for we do not want to make facts, but simply to declare and explain them — that the portion : wages, insreases both absolutely and relatively in proportion to the number of workers :

The average wage in 1850 was 248 dollars ; u u u u 1860 '^ 292 "

The portion : surplus grows at a great rate :

In 1850 it amounted to 200 million dollars; " 1860 it was 426 *' ''

The average " surplus," that is, when divided by the number of establishments, was as follows : In 1850 it was $ 1,500.

" 1860 '' '' 3,000.

'' 1870 it fell to 2,736, because the number of establishments had nearly doubled.

In 1880 it rose to 3,490, the number of establishments being nearly the same as in 1870.

Here ends the lesson. It was all figures ; but we should say that to a reflective mind these figures are not dumb, but speaking.

The central point of interest seems to us to be this ''surplus." Mow does this surplus originate 9 For to know what a thing is, we must know the process of its origin. How come these cakes — the net results of our industrial production — to be divided that way? In order to answer these questions we shall have to dissect the system of production which now prevails.

Take a number of moneyed men w^ho agree to invest their superfluities in some industrial enterprise. They come together, form themselves into a joint-stock company and elect officers ; such companies, in fact, now own and operate some of our largest establishments, and the tendency is that all industries of any consequence in time will be carried on by them. Suppose then our moneyed men engaged in the cotton, or woolen, or iron and steel industry ; either one of these will serve our purpose equally well, as the ' surplus ' was in 1880 about the same in proportion in all of them. Suppose they engage in the making of cotton cloth. None of these men need have any knowledge whatever of the work to be done, and as a matter of fact the stockholders of existing joint-stock companies have no such knowledge. They need not know anything, indeed, except to add and divide — this is not added impertinently, but simply to emphasize a fact most pertinent to our subject. All that they need do is to hire a manager at a stated salary and place their funds at his disposal.

This manager then rents a factory — a cotton-" mill " — or has one built; goes then into the market and buys spindles, bales of cotton, and other machinery and raw materials. All that low is wanting is Labor ; but that is also to be found in the market — plenty of it. The manager buys as much as he wants of it. Note, however, here a difference. The machinery and raw material he has to pay for on, or a short time after, delivery ; not quite so with Labor. With that a contract is made to employ it for a week or a month at an agreed price, and then to pay for it after having used it.

All these wares — machinery, cotton and Labor — are now taken to the cotton mill, where our men with money may, if they think fit, look on while Labor spins and weaves the cotton into cloth, using up in that process a certain small portion of the machinery and factory. Everybody now knows, that this cloth is not made for the personal use of these moneyed men or their families — and we shall see in another chapter that this fact is a truly distinguishing mark of the era we are living in — but that it is manufactured wholly for other people whom these men never saw or heard of. This cloth is made for the express purpose of being taken into and disposed of in the market of the world. For there, all wares, from guano to gold, from rags to silk, have one quality in common ; that of possessing value.

Now, please mark that nothing can so effectually kill our cause as the successful impeachment of the answer we shall give to the question : What is value? or the deductions we shall draw from it. Our explanation of what this ''surplus " is and what Capital is, hinges on this question, which is, indeed, '' Videe mere'''' — the ''mother idea" of Socialism. We shall, therefore, suspend our sketch of the present mode of production, in order first to answer it.

But mark again, our exposition of "value" is none other than that of David Kicardo. Socialists regard Ricardo as the last political economist who made any substantial addition to the science ; the one who, in regard to value and wages, advanced it to its highest plane. And it was only after the supporters of the present social order found out, what use could be made of his teachings, that Bastiat and his disciples came to their succor and tried to impugn these teachings. We build on Ricardo as our foundation.

To the question then. Bj^ ''value'' we mean value in exchange; we do not mean value in use. or utility, or, what seems to us a more luminous name, and what Locke called it : worth. The worth or utility of shoes is their capacity to protect the feet; their value is what they will fetch in the market, Their value is their relation to other wares, in some way or other; is another name for equivalence.

But relation in what way? Not relation of worths. Worth, or utility, is undoubtedly presupposed, but it does not determine the value. That will be seen from the lollowing illustrations :

The reason why a man wants to purchase a pair of shoes, is that he needs them, that they are useful, that they possess "worth" to him. But their usefulness is not at all the reason why he pays $2.00 for them He does not pay twenty times as much for them as for a ten cent loaf of bread, because they are twenty times as useful to him. Why not ? Because the two •• worths " or two usefulnesses are just as incomparable as a pound of butter and a peck of apples would be. Again, a loaf of bread is '-worth" infinitely moi-e to a man who has not eaten anything for fortyeight hours than to one who just comes from a hearty dinner; yet the former can buy the loaf just as cheaply as the latter, value, then, is no relation of *' worths," of usefulnesses.

Nor has money anything to do with determining values. Wares would have value, the same as thej" have now, if all money of all kinds were suddenly annihilated. In order to eliminate that disturbing factor : money, we shall suppose an exchange of goods for goods — pure barter.

Assume, then, a shoemaker to exchange one pair of boots for a coat, another similar pair for a table, a third pair for one hundred pounds of bread, a fourth pair for forty bushels of coal, and a fifth pair for a book. All these articles are said to be equal in value.

But equality presupposes comparison. We only compare such articles with each other that are similar. In what respect, then, are the above articles similar, except that of being useful, which we saw was no point of comparison? They are dissimilar in regard to the material, out of which they are made and the purposes for wiiich they are made. They are, on the other hand, similar in this respect that they have been produced by human labor, working on natural products, which, again, have been won by human labor. They have, then, this property in common, that they have sprung from Nature, and contain in them a certain amount of human labor. Labor is their father and Nature is their mother.

Nature, however, performs her work gratuitously. It must, then, be human labor which gives these various articles their value.

That is, also, the teaching of Ricardo. He lays it down as a fundamental i)rincij)le, that the exchange values of wares the supply of which may be indefinitely increased, (as is the case with these articles we enumerated) depend, exclusively, on the quantities of labor, necessarily required to produce them and bring them to market, in all states of society. In another place he says: '' In all cases, wares rise in value, because more labor is expended."

These various articles, however, have not only value; they were supposed to have equal value, consequently they must contain an equal amonnt of human labor. And so it is.

These amounts are first measured bj^ the time devoted to produce these articles. Thus, it is easy enough to say, how much bakermg labor is contained in the bread; how much tailoring labor in the coat &c.

These various labors, however, are very different in kind, you will say. Undoubtedly. But the difference consists simply in being more or less complicated. It takes, simply, more time to learn the one than the other. The most complicated kind of work can ahvays be i-educed to ordinary unskilled labor, may always be considered as multif)lied common labor. Thus digging is easier to learn than type setting. There is contaiiied in everj'- hour's work of the carpenter a part of the time he devoted to learning liis trade. This is still more apparent in the literary labor contained in a book. Years may be requisite for the preliminary work, months or even years may have to be devoted to special studies, vvliile the mere writing of the manuscript may take but a few months. One hour of writing may thus, be equivalent to twelve, or many more, hours of common labor.

In this connection Eicardo very pertinently remarks ''I am not inattentive to the difficulty of comparhig one hour's labor in one employment with the same duration of labor in another. But the estimation of different qualities of Labor comes soon to be adjusted m the market with sufficient precision for all practical purposes "

But we are not yet ready to define what Value is. Suppose one man required twice as much time to make a pair of boots as is usually required, and suppose he should then want from the tailor two coats in exchange, instead of one, he probably would get some such answer as this : ''I don't care how long time it takes you to make such a pair of boots. I know, that on an average, an average shoemaker can make them in half that time, and therefore your labor is of no more value." Value is not then determined by the time which this or that worker may need.

Again. Suppose tomorrow a machine is invented and generally introduced which will make two pair of boots in the same time that now is required for one pair, Then the Value will be reduced one-half.

We, then, define Value as : the quantity of common human labor^ measured by time^ which on an average is requisite by the implements generally used, lo produce a given commodity.

We should now go on with our illustration and state the deduction which Socialists draw from the definition just given, were it not for some misunderstandings that very likely already have arisen in many a reader's mind.

Thus, one may object: Suppose I find a diamond in the highway. Its value is, certainly, far above the trouble of picking it up. Does not this show that Bastiat's definition of Value : that its measure is " the service done to the buyer, in saving him a certain amount of effort," is the more correct one. AYe answer : People are not in the habit of finding diamonds in the liighways. If tliey were, diamonds would soon be as cheap as pebbles. Diamonds will come to the finder dear enough, if he were to seek them in Hindostan or Brazil, where they are usually found. Remember that the average amount of labor is a part of our definition.

A word more in regard to that theory of '•'' service," which - so many reformers in our country have got into their heads without knowhig to whom they owe it. Bastiat it was who invented that term in order to get over the apparent mischief Ricardo's theory worked ; who expressly selected it because its meaning was equivocal. Its efficacy lies entirely in the shifting uses of an ambiguous term. Bastiat's definition really amounts to saying, that the value of a railroad-ticket from Boston to Worcester is measured hy the time, trouble and expense which I may •' save " in not walking or driving that distance ! Why, our progress depends on exactly the reverse ! On this, that values of articles become constantly less and less in proportion to the trouble I should have to undergo in producing them by my own efforts ! So that, finally, values and troubles of mine bear no relation at all to each other.

Again, we shall, of course, be charged with having disregarded the law of Demand and Supply. And yet. we distinctly mentioned, that we. so far, only spoke of articles that may be indefinitely increased. Wares, that cannot be thus increased, like rare pictures and wines, and other wares in times of sc;ircity. have what is called, a '' monopoly value," that is, their value is not measured by the labor contained — crystalized — in them at all, but by Demand and Supply, exclusively. And even with regard to wares that may be indefinitely increased (the vast majority of all wares) we, with Ricardo, do not deny that '• there are accidental and temporary deviations of the actual market from their primary, and natural price."

That which we lay stress upon is, that the labor expended on wares measures, and zs, their primary and natural value. Labor expended constitutes, so to speak, then- ZereZ value. Demaiid and Supply have, as to those wares, simi^ly the effect of making their price (that is, tlieir value expressed in money — in gold and silver) vibrate, now a little above, now a little below that level value of theirs ; exactly as the wind raises and depresses the waves in respect to the level of the sea.

We claim, then :— First, in the words of Ricardo : '^Nature by the aid of machinery adds to utilities (to '' Worths ") by making society richer; but the assistance which it affords, adds nothing to Values, but always makes the latter fall." And, on the other hand, that Human Labor and Scarcity create all Values. But since it is evident, that Scarcity cannot create anything real, we must conclude that the Values which are due to it, are unreal ones ; and that it is human Labor alone that creates all real values. [This of course, does not imply, that there is not much Labor which does not create any Values at all.] So it is not only now, but so it has always been. So it will always be under any industrial system.