summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/64882-0.txt
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to 'old/64882-0.txt')
-rw-r--r--old/64882-0.txt4346
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 4346 deletions
diff --git a/old/64882-0.txt b/old/64882-0.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index 3c827a3..0000000
--- a/old/64882-0.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,4346 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Servile State, by Hilaire Belloc
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The Servile State
-
-Author: Hilaire Belloc
-
-Release Date: March 20, 2021 [eBook #64882]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: an Anonymous Volunteer
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SERVILE STATE ***
-The Servile State
-
-
-By Hilaire Belloc
-
-
-"... If we do not restore the Institution of Property we cannot escape
-restoring the Institution of Slavery; there is no third course."
-
-
-T.N. Foulis London & Edinburgh 1912
-
-
-TO E.S.P. Haynes
-
-* * *
-
-Synopsis of the Servile State
-
-Introduction The Subject of this Book:--It is written to maintain the
-thesis that industrial society as we know it will tend towards the
-re-establishment of slavery.
-
---The sections into which the book will be divided
-
-Section I
-Definitions:--What _wealth_ is and why necessary to man--How
-produced--The meaning of the words _Capital_, _Proletariat_, _Property_,
-_Means of Production_--The definition of the _Capitalist State_--The
-definition of the _/Servile State/_--What it is and what it is not--The
-re-establishment of status in the place of contract--That servitude is not
-a question of degree but of kind--Summary of these definitions.
-
-Section II
-Our Civilisation was originally Servile:--The Servile
-institution in Pagan antiquity--Its fundamental character--A Pagan society
-took it for granted--The institution disturbed by the advent of the
-Christian Church.
-
-Section III
-How the Servile Institution was for a Time Dissolved:--The
-subconscious effect of the Faith in this matter--The main elements of Pagan
-economic society--The Villa--The transformation of the agricultural slave
-into the Christian _serf_--Next into the Christian _peasant_--The
-corresponding erection throughout Christendom of the /_Distributive
-State_/--It is nearly complete at the close of the Middle Ages--"It was not
-machinery that lost us our freedom, it was the loss of a free mind."
-
-Section IV
-How the Distributive State Failed:--This failure original in
-England--The story of the decline from Distributive property to
-Capitalism--The economic revolution of the sixteenth century--The
-confiscation of monastic land--What might have happened had the State
-retained it--As a fact that land is captured by an oligarchy--England is
-Capitalist _before_ the advent of the industrial revolution--Therefore
-modern industry, proceeding from England, has grown in a Capitalist mould.
-
-Section V
-The Capitalist State in Proportion as It Grows Perfect Grows
-Unstable:--It can of its nature be but a transitory phase lying between an
-earlier and a later stable state of society--The two internal strains which
-render it unstable--_(a)_ The conflict between its social realities and its
-moral and legal basis--_(b)_ The insecurity and insufficiency to which it
-condemns free citizens--The few possessors can grant or withhold livelihood
-from the many non-possessors--Capitalism is so unstable that it dares not
-proceed to its own logical conclusion, but tends to restrict competition
-among owners, and insecurity and insufficiency among non-owners.
-
-Section VI
-The Stable Solutions of this Instability:--The three stable
-social arrangements which alone can take the place of unstable
-Capitalism--The _Distributive_ solution, the _Collectivist_ solution, the
-_Servile_ solution--The reformer will not openly advocate the Servile
-solution--There remain only the Distributive and the Collectivist solution.
-
-Section VII
-Socialism is the Easiest Apparent Solution of the Capitalist
-Crux:--A contrast between the reformer making for Distribution and the
-reformer making for Socialism (or Collectivism)--The difficulties met by
-the first type--He is working against the grain--The second is working with
-the grain--Collectivism a natural development of Capitalism--It appeals
-both to Capitalist and Proletarian--None the less we shall see that the
-Collectivist attempt is doomed to fail and to produce a thing very
-different from its object--to wit, the Servile State.
-
-Section VIII
-The Reformers and Reformed Are Alike Making for the Servile
-State:--There are two types of reformers working along the line of least
-resistance--These are the Socialist and the Practical Man--The Socialist
-again is of two kinds, The Humanist and the Statistician--The Humanist
-would like both to confiscate from the owners and to establish security and
-sufficiency for the non-owners--He is allowed to do the second thing by
-establishing servile conditions--He is forbidden to do the first--The
-Statistician is quite content so long as he can run and organise the
-poor--Both are canalised towards the Servile State and both are shepherded
-off their ideal Collectivist State--Meanwhile the great mass, the
-proletariat, upon whom the reformers are at work, though retaining the
-instinct of ownership, has lost any experience of it and is subject to
-private law much more than to the law of the Courts--This is exactly what
-happened in the past during the converse change from Slavery to
-Freedom--Private Law became stronger than Public at the beginning of the
-Dark Ages--The owners welcomed the changes which maintained them in
-ownership and yet increased the security of their revenue--to-day the
-non-owners will welcome whatever keeps them a wage-earning class but
-increases their wages and their security without insisting on the
-expropriation of the owners.
-
-Appendix on "Buying-Out" An Appendix showing that the Collectivist proposal
-to "Buy-Out" the Capitalist in lieu of expropriating him is vain.
-
-Section IX The Servile State Has Begun:--The manifestation of the Servile
-State in law or proposals of law will fall into two sorts--(a) Laws or
-proposals of law compelling the proletariat to work--(b) Financial
-operations riveting the grip of capitalists more strongly upon society--As
-to (a), we find it /already/ at work in measures such as the Insurance Act
-and proposals such as Compulsory Arbitration, the enforcement of Trades
-Union bargains and the erection of "Labour Colonies," etc., for the
-"unemployable"--As to the second, we find that so-called "Municipal" or
-"Socialist" experiments in acquiring the means of production have /already/
-increased and are continually increasing the dependence of society upon the
-Capitalist.
-
-Conclusion
-
-* * *
-
-The Servile State
-
-* * *
-
-Introduction
-The Subject of This Book
-
-
-This book is written to maintain and prove the following truth:--
-
-That our free modern society in which the means of production are owned by
-a few being necessarily in unstable equilibrium, it is tending to reach a
-condition of stable equilibrium /by the establishment of compulsory labour
-legally enforcible upon those who do not own the means of production for
-the advantage of those who do/. With this principle of compulsion applied
-against the non-owners there must also come a difference in their status;
-and in the eyes of society and of its positive law men will be divided into
-two sets: the first economically free and politically free, possessed of
-the means of production, and securely confirmed in that possession; the
-second economically unfree and politically unfree, but at first secured by
-their very lack of freedom in certain necessaries of life and in a minimum
-of well-being beneath which they shall not fall.
-
-Society having reached such a condition would be released from its present
-internal strains and would have taken on a form which would be stable: that
-is, capable of being indefinitely prolonged without change. In it would be
-resolved the various factors of instability which increasingly disturb that
-form of society called _Capitalist_, and men would be satisfied to accept,
-and to continue in, such a settlement.
-
-To such a stable society I shall give, for reasons which will be described
-in the next section, the title of THE SERVILE STATE.
-
-I shall not undertake to judge whether this approaching organisation of our
-modern society be good or evil. I shall concern myself only with showing
-the necessary tendency towards it which has long existed and the recent
-social provisions which show that it has actually begun.
-
-This new state will be acceptable to those who desire consciously or by
-implication the re-establishment among us of a difference of status between
-possessor and non-possessor: it will be distasteful to those who regard
-such a distinction with ill favour or with dread.
-
-My business will not be to enter into the discussion between these two
-types of modern thinkers, but to point out to each and to both that that
-which the one favours and the other would fly is upon them.
-
-I shall prove my thesis in particular from the case of the industrial
-society of Great Britain, including that small, alien, and exceptional
-corner of Ireland, which suffers or enjoys industrial conditions to-day.
-
-I shall divide the matter thus:--
-
-(1) I shall lay down certain definitions.
-
-(2) Next, I shall describe the institution of slavery and /The Servile
-State/ of which it is the basis, as these were in the ancient world. I
-shall then:
-
-(3) Sketch very briefly the process whereby that age-long institution of
-slavery was slowly dissolved during the Christian centuries, and whereby
-the resulting medieval system, based upon highly divided property in the
-means of production, was
-
-(4) wrecked in certain areas of Europe as it approached completion, and had
-substituted for it, in practice though not in legal theory, a society based
-upon /Capitalism/.
-
-(5) Next, I shall show how Capitalism was of its nature unstable, because
-its social realities were in conflict with all existing or possible systems
-of law, and because its effects in denying _sufficiency_ and _security_
-were intolerable to men; how being thus _unstable_, it consequently
-presented a _problem_ which demanded a solution: to wit, the establishment
-of some stable form of society whose law and social practice should
-correspond, and whose economic results, by providing _sufficiency_ and
-_security_, should be tolerable to human nature.
-
-(6) I shall next present the only three possible solutions:--
-
-(_a_) Collectivism, or the placing of the means of production in the hands
-of the political officers of the community.
-
-(_b_) Property, or the re-establishment of a Distributive State in which
-the mass of citizens should severally own the means of production.
-
-(_c_) Slavery, or a Servile State in which those who do not own the means
-of production shall be legally compelled to work for those who do, and
-shall receive in exchange a security of livelihood.
-
-Now, seeing the distaste which the remains of our long Christian tradition
-has bred in us for directly advocating the third solution and boldly
-supporting the re-establishment of slavery, the first two alone are open to
-reformers: (1) a reaction towards a condition of well-divided property or
-the _Distributive State_; (2) an attempt to achieve the ideal _Collectivist
-State_.
-
-It can easily be shown that this second solution appeals most naturally and
-easily to a society already Capitalist on account of the difficulty which
-such a society has to discover the energy, the will, and the vision
-requisite for the first solution.
-
-(7) I shall next proceed to show how the pursuit of this ideal Collectivist
-State which is bred of Capitalism leads men acting upon a Capitalist
-society not towards the Collectivist State nor anything like it, but to
-that third utterly different thing--the _Servile State_.
-
-To this eighth section I shall add an appendix showing how the attempt to
-achieve Collectivism gradually by public purchase is based upon an
-illusion.
-
-(8) Recognising that theoretical argument of this kind, though
-intellectually convincing, is not sufficient to the establishment of my
-thesis, I shall conclude by giving examples from modern English
-legislation, which examples prove that the Servile State is actually upon
-us.
-
-Such is the scheme I design for this book.
-
-
-
-
-Section One
-Definitions
-
-
-Man, like every other organism, can only live by the transformation of his
-environment to his own use. He must transform his environment from a
-condition where it is less to a condition where it is more subservient to
-his needs.
-
-That special, conscious, and intelligent transformation of his environment
-which is peculiar to the peculiar intelligence and creative faculty of man
-we call the _Production of Wealth_.
-
-_Wealth_ is matter which has been consciously and intelligently transformed
-from a condition in which it is less to a condition in which it is more
-serviceable to a human need.
-
-Without _Wealth_ man cannot exist. The production of it is a necessity to
-him, and though it proceeds from the more to the less necessary, and even
-to those forms of production which we call luxuries, yet in any given human
-society there is a certain _kind_ and a certain _amount_ of wealth without
-which human life cannot be lived: as, for instance, in England to-day,
-certain forms of cooked and elaborately prepared food, clothing, warmth,
-and habitation.
-
-Therefore, to control the production of wealth is to control human life
-itself. To refuse man the opportunity for the production of wealth is to
-refuse him the opportunity for life; and, in general, the way in which the
-production of wealth is by law permitted is the only way in which the
-citizens can legally exist.
-
-Wealth can only be produced by the application of human energy, mental and
-physical, to the forces of nature around us, and to the material which
-those forces inform.
-
-This human energy so applicable to the material world and its forces we
-will call _Labour_. As for that material and those natural forces, we will
-call them, for the sake of shortness, by the narrow, but conventionally
-accepted, term _Land_.
-
-It would seem, therefore, that all problems connected with the production
-of wealth, and all discussion thereupon, involve but two principal original
-factors, to wit, _Labour_ and _Land_, But it so happens that the conscious,
-artificial, and intelligent action of man upon nature, corresponding to his
-peculiar character compared with other created beings, introduces a third
-factor of the utmost importance.
-
-Man proceeds to create wealth by ingenious methods of varying and often
-increasing complexity, and aids himself by the construction of
-_implements_. These soon become in each new department of the production as
-truly necessary to that production as _labour_ and _land_. Further, any
-process of production takes a certain time; during that time the producer
-must be fed, and clothed, and housed, and the rest of it. There must
-therefore be an _accumulation of wealth_ created in the past, and reserved
-with the object of maintaining labour during its effort to produce for the
-future.
-
-Whether it be the making of an instrument or tool, or the setting aside of
-a store of provisions, _labour_ applied to _land_ for either purpose is not
-producing wealth for immediate consumption. It is setting aside and
-reserving somewhat, and that _somewhat_ is always necessary in varying
-proportions according to the simplicity or complexity of the economic
-society to the production of wealth.
-
-To such wealth reserved and set aside for the purposes of future
-production, and not for immediate consumption, whether it be in the form of
-instruments and tools, or in the form of stores for the maintenance of
-labour during the process of production, we give the name of _Capital_.
-
-There are thus three factors in the production of all human wealth, which
-we may conventionally term _Land_, _Capital_, and _Labour_.
-
-When we talk of the _Means of Production_ we signify land and capital
-combined. Thus, when we say that a man is "dispossessed of the means of
-production," or cannot produce wealth save by the leave of another who
-"possesses the means of production," we mean that he is the master only of
-his labour and has no control, in any useful amount, over either capital,
-or land, or both combined.
-
-A man politically free, that is, one who enjoys the right before the law to
-exercise his energies when he pleases (or not at all if he does not so
-please), but not possessed by legal right of control over any useful amount
-of the means of production, we call _proletarian_, and any considerable
-class composed of such men we call a _proletariat_.
-
-_Property_ is a term used for that arrangement in society whereby the
-control of land and of wealth made from land, including therefore all the
-means of production, is vested in some person or corporation. Thus we may
-say of a building, including the land upon which it stands, that it is the
-"property" of such and such a citizen, or family, or college, or of the
-State, meaning that those who "own" such property are guaranteed by the
-laws in the right to use it or withhold it from use. _Private property_
-signifies such wealth (including the means of production) as may, by the
-arrangements of society, be in the control of persons or corporations
-_other_ than the political bodies of which these persons or corporations
-are in another aspect members. What distinguishes private property is not
-that the possessor thereof is less than the State, or is only a part of the
-State (for were that so we should talk of municipal property as private
-property), but rather that the owner may exercise his control over it to
-his own advantage, and not as a trustee for society, nor in the hierarchy
-of political institutions. Thus Mr Jones is a citizen of Manchester, but he
-does not own his private property as a citizen of Manchester, he owns it as
-Mr Jones, whereas, if the house next to his own be owned by the Manchester
-municipality, they own it only because they are a political body standing
-for the whole community of the town. Mr Jones might move to Glasgow and
-still own his property in Manchester, but the municipality of Manchester
-can only own its property in connection with the corporate political life
-of the town.
-
-An ideal society in which the means of production should be in the hands of
-the political officers of the community we call _Collectivist_, or more
-generally _Socialist_.[1]
-
-A society in which private property in land and capital, that is, the
-ownership and therefore the control of the means of production, is confined
-to some number of free citizens not large enough to determine the social
-mass of the State, while the rest have not such property and are therefore
-proletarian, we call _Capitalist_; and the method by which wealth is
-produced in such a society can only be the application of labour, the
-determining mass of which must necessarily be proletarian, to land and
-capital, in such fashion that, of the total wealth produced, the
-Proletariat which labours shall only receive a portion.
-
-The two marks, then, defining the Capitalist State are: (1) That the
-citizens thereof are politically free: _i.e._ can use or withhold at will
-their possessions or their labour, but are also (2) divided into capitalist
-and proletarian in such proportions that the State as a whole is not
-characterised by the institution of ownership among free citizens, but by
-the restriction of ownership to a section markedly less than the whole, or
-even to a small minority. Such a _Capitalist State_ is essentially divided
-into two classes of free citizens, the one capitalist or owning, the other
-propertyless or proletarian.
-
-My last definition concerns the Servile State itself, and since the idea is
-both somewhat novel and also the subject of this book, I will not only
-establish but expand its definition.
-
-The definition of the Servile State is as follows:--
-
-"_That arrangement of society in which so considerable a number of the
-families and individuals are constrained by positive law to labour for the
-advantage of other families and individuals as to stamp the whole community
-with the mark of such labour we call_ /The Servile State/."
-
-Note first certain negative limitations in the above which must be clearly
-seized if we are not to lose clear thinking in a fog of metaphor and
-rhetoric.
-
-That society is not servile in which men are intelligently constrained to
-labour by enthusiasm, by a religious tenet, or indirectly from fear of
-destitution, or directly from love of gain, or from the common sense which
-teaches them that by their labour they may increase their well-being.
-
-A clear boundary exists between the servile and the non-servile condition
-of labour, and the conditions upon either side of that boundary utterly
-differ one from another, Where there is _compulsion_ applicable by
-_positive law_ to men of a certain _status_, and such compulsion enforced
-in the last resort by the powers at the disposal of the State, there is the
-institution of _Slavery_; and if that institution be sufficiently expanded
-the whole State may be said to repose upon a servile basis, and is a
-Servile State.
-
-Where such formal, legal status is absent the conditions are not servile;
-and the difference between servitude and freedom, appreciable in a thousand
-details of actual life, is most glaring in this: that the free man can
-refuse his labour and use that refusal as an instrument wherewith to
-_bargain_; while the slave has no such instrument or power to bargain at
-all, but is dependent for his well-being upon the custom of society, backed
-by the regulation of such of its laws as may protect and guarantee the
-slave.
-
-Next, let it be observed that the State is not servile because the mere
-institution of slavery is to be discovered somewhere within its confines.
-The State is only servile when so considerable a body of forced labour is
-affected by the compulsion of positive law as to give a character to the
-whole community.
-
-Similarly, that State is not servile in which _all_ citizens are liable to
-submit their energies to the compulsion of positive law, and must labour at
-the discretion of State officials. By loose metaphor and for rhetorical
-purposes men who dislike Collectivism (for instance) or the discipline of a
-regiment will talk of the "servile" conditions of such organisations. But
-for the purposes of strict definition and clear thinking it is essential to
-remember that a servile condition only exists by contrast with a free
-condition. The servile condition is present in society only when there is
-also present the free citizen for whose benefit the slave works under the
-compulsion of positive law.
-
-Again, it should be noted that this word "servile" in no way connotes the
-worst, nor even necessarily a bad, arrangement of society, This point is so
-clear that it should hardly delay us; but a confusion between the
-rhetorical and the precise use of the word servile I have discovered to
-embarrass public discussion of the matter so much that I must once more
-emphasise what should be self-evident.
-
-The discussion as to whether the institution of slavery be a good or a bad
-one, or be relatively better or worse than other alternative institutions,
-has nothing whatever to do with the exact definition of that institution.
-Thus Monarchy consists in throwing the responsibility for the direction of
-society upon an individual. One can imagine some Roman of the first century
-praising the new Imperial power, but through a muddle-headed tradition
-against "kings" swearing that he would never tolerate a "monarchy." Such a
-fellow would have been a very futile critic of public affairs under Trajan,
-but no more futile than a man who swears that nothing shall make him a
-"slave," though well prepared to accept laws that compel him to labour
-without his consent, under the force of public law, and upon terms dictated
-by others.
-
-Many would argue that a man so compelled to labour, guaranteed against
-insecurity and against insufficiency of food, housing and clothing,
-promised subsistence for his old age, and a similar set of advantages for
-his posterity, would be a great deal better off than a free man lacking all
-these things. But the argument does not affect the definition attaching to
-the word servile. A devout Christian of blameless life drifting upon an
-ice-flow in the Arctic night, without food or any prospect of succour, is
-not so comfortably circumstanced as the Khedive of Egypt; but it would be
-folly in establishing the definition of the words "Christian" and
-"Mahommedan" to bring this contrast into account.
-
-We must then, throughout this inquiry, keep strictly to the economic aspect
-of the case. Only when that is established and when the modern tendency to
-the re-establishment of slavery is clear, are we free to discuss the
-advantages and disadvantages of the revolution through which we are
-passing.
-
-It must further be grasped that the essential mark of the Servile
-Institution does not depend upon the ownership of the slave by a particular
-master. That the institution of slavery tends to that form under the
-various forces composing human nature and human society is probable enough.
-That if or when slavery were re-established in England a particular man
-would in time be found the slave not of Capitalism in general but of, say,
-the Shell Oil Trust in particular, is a very likely development; and we
-know that in societies where the institution was of immemorial antiquity
-such direct possession of the slave by the free man or corporation of free
-men had come to be the rule. But my point is that such a mark is not
-essential to the character of slavery. As an initial phase in the
-institution of slavery, or even as a permanent phase marking society for an
-indefinite time, it is perfectly easy to conceive of a whole class rendered
-servile by positive law, and compelled by such law to labour for the
-advantage of another non-servile free class, without any direct act of
-possession permitted to one man over the person of another.
-
-The final contrast thus established between slave and free might be
-maintained by the State guaranteeing to the _un-free_, security in their
-subsistence, to the free, security in their property and profits, rent and
-interest. What would mark the slave in such a society would be his
-belonging to that set or status which was compelled by no matter what
-definition to labour, and was thus cut off from the other set or status not
-compelled to labour, but free to labour or not as it willed.
-
-Again, the Servile State would certainly exist even though a man, being
-only compelled to labour during a portion of his time, were free to bargain
-and even to accumulate in his "free" time. The old lawyers used to
-distinguish between a serf "in gross" and a serf "regardant." A serf "in
-gross" was one who was a serf at all times and places, and not in respect
-to a particular lord. A serf "regardant" was a serf only in his bondage to
-serve a particular lord. He was free as against other men. And one might
-perfectly well have slaves who were only slaves "regardant" to a particular
-type of employment during particular hours. But they would be slaves none
-the less, and if their hours were many and their class numerous, the State
-which they supported would be a Servile State.
-
-Lastly, let it be remembered that the servile condition remains as truly an
-institution of the State when it attaches permanently and irrevocably at
-any one time to a particular set of human beings as when it attaches to a
-particular class throughout their lives. Thus the laws of Paganism
-permitted the slave to be enfranchised by his master: it further permitted
-children or prisoners to be sold into slavery. The Servile Institution,
-though perpetually changing in the elements of its composition, was still
-an unchanging factor in the State. Similarly, though the State should only
-subject to slavery those who had less than a certain income, while leaving
-men free by inheritance or otherwise to pass out of, and by loss to pass
-into, the slave class, that slave class, though fluctuating as to its
-composition, would still permanently exist.
-
-Thus, if the modern industrial State shall make a law by which servile
-conditions shall not attach to those capable of earning more than a certain
-sum by their own labour, but shall attach to those who earn less than this
-sum; or if the modern industrial State defines manual labour in a
-particular fashion, renders it compulsory during a fixed time for those who
-undertake it, but leaves them free to turn later to other occupations if
-they choose, undoubtedly such distinctions, though they attach to
-conditions and not to individuals, establish the Servile Institution.
-
-Some considerable number must be manual workers by definition, and while
-they were so defined would be slaves. Here again the composition of the
-Servile class would fluctuate, but the class would be permanent and large
-enough to stamp all society. I need not insist upon the practical effect:
-that such a class, once established, tends to be fixed in the great
-majority of those which make it up, and that the individuals entering or
-leaving it tend to become few compared to the whole mass.
-
-There is one last point to be considered in this definition.
-
-It is this:--
-
-Since, in the nature of things, a free society must enforce a contract (a
-free society consisting in nothing else but the enforcement of free
-contracts), how far can that be called a Servile condition which is the
-result of contract nominally or really free? In other words, is not a
-contract to labour, however freely entered into, servile of its nature when
-enforced by the State?
-
-For instance, I have no food or clothing, nor do I possess the means of
-production whereby I can produce any wealth in exchange for such. I am so
-circumstanced that an owner of the Means of Production will not allow me
-access to those Means unless I sign a contract to serve him for a week at a
-wage of bare subsistence. Does the State in enforcing that contract make me
-for that week a slave?
-
-Obviously not. For the institution of Slavery presupposes a certain
-attitude of mind in the free man and in the slave, a habit of living in
-either, and the stamp of both those habits upon society. No such effects
-are produced by a contract enforceable by the length of one week. The
-duration of human life is such, and the prospect of posterity, that the
-fulfilling of such a contract in no way wounds the senses of liberty and of
-choice.
-
-What of a month, a year, ten years, a lifetime? Suppose an extreme case,
-and a destitute man to sign a contract binding him and all his children who
-were minors to work for a bare subsistence until his own death, or the
-attainment of majority of the children, whichever event might happen
-latest; would the State in forcing that contract be making the man a slave?
-
-As undoubtedly as it would not be making him a slave in the first case, it
-would be making him a slave in the second.
-
-One can only say to ancient sophistical difficulties of this kind, that the
-sense of men establishes for itself the true limits of any object, as of
-freedom. What freedom is, or is not, in so far as mere measure of time is
-concerned (though of course much else than time enters in), human habit
-determines; but the enforcing of a contract of service certainly or
-probably leaving a choice after its expiration is consonant with freedom.
-The enforcement of a contract probably binding one's whole life is not
-consonant with freedom. One binding to service a man's natural heirs is
-intolerable to freedom.
-
-Consider another converse point. A man binds himself to work for life and
-his children after him so far as the law may permit him to bind them in a
-particular society, but that not for a bare subsistence, but for so large a
-wage that he will be wealthy in a few years, and his posterity, when the
-contract is completed, wealthier still. Does the State in forcing such a
-contract make the fortunate employee a slave? No. For it is in the essence
-of slavery that subsistence or little more than subsistence should be
-guaranteed to the slave. Slavery exists in order that the Free should
-benefit by its existence, and connotes a condition in which the men
-subjected to it may demand secure existence, but little more.
-
-If anyone were to draw an exact line, and to say that a life-contract
-enforceable by law was slavery at so many shillings a week, but ceased to
-be slavery after that margin, his effort would be folly. None the less,
-there is a standard of subsistence in any one society, the guarantee of
-which (or little more) under an obligation to labour by compulsion is
-slavery, while the guarantee of very much more is not slavery.
-
-This verbal jugglery might be continued. It is a type of verbal difficulty
-apparent in every inquiry open to the professional disputant, but of no
-effect upon the mind of the honest inquirer whose business is not dialectic
-but truth.
-
-It is always possible by establishing a cross-section in a set of
-definitions to pose the unanswerable difficulty of degree, but that will
-never affect the realities of discussion. We know, for instance, what is
-meant by torture when it exists in a code of laws, and when it is
-forbidden. No imaginary difficulties of degree between pulling a man's hair
-and scalping him, between warming him and burning him alive, will disturb a
-reformer whose business it is to expunge torture from some penal code.
-
-In the same way we know what is and what is not compulsory labour, what is
-and what is not the Servile Condition. Its test is, I repeat, the
-withdrawal from a man of his free choice to labour or not to labour, here
-or there, for such and such an object; and the compelling of him by
-positive law to labour for the advantage of others who do not fall under
-the same compulsion.
-
-Where you have _that_, you have slavery: with all the manifold, spiritual,
-and political results of that ancient institution.
-
-Where you have slavery affecting a class of such considerable size as to
-mark and determine the character of the State, there you have the Servile
-State.
-
-* * * * *
-
-To sum up, then:--The /Servile State/ is that in which we find so
-considerable a body of families and individuals distinguished from _free
-citizens_ by the mark of compulsory labour as to stamp a general character
-upon society, and all the chief characters, good or evil, attaching to the
-institution of slavery will be found permeating such a State, whether the
-slaves be directly and personally attached to their masters, only
-indirectly attached through the medium of the State, or attached in a third
-manner through their subservience to corporations or to particular
-industries. The slave so compelled to labour will be one dispossessed of
-the means of production, and compelled by law to labour for the advantage
-of all or any who are possessed thereof. And the distinguishing mark of the
-slave proceeds from the special action upon him of a positive law which
-first separates one body of men, the less-free, from another, the more
-free, in the function of contract within the general body of the community.
-
-Now, from a purely Servile conception of production and of the arrangement
-of society we Europeans sprang. The Immemorial past of Europe is a Servile
-past. During some centuries which the Church raised, permeated, and
-constructed, Europe was gradually released or divorced from this immemorial
-and fundamental conception of slavery; to that conception, to that
-institution, our Industrial or Capitalist society is now upon its return.
-We are re-establishing the slave.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Before proceeding to the proof of this, I shall, in the next few pages,
-digress to sketch very briefly the process whereby the old Pagan slavery
-was transformed into a free society some centuries ago. I shall then
-outline the further process whereby the new non-servile society was wrecked
-at the Reformation in certain areas of Europe, and particularly in England.
-There was gradually produced in its stead the transitory phase of society
-(now nearing its end) called generally _Capitalism_ or the _Capitalist
-State_.
-
-Such a digression, being purely historical, is not logically necessary to a
-consideration of our subject, but it is of great value to the reader,
-because the knowledge of how, in reality and in the concrete, things have
-moved better enables us to understand the logical process whereby they tend
-towards a particular goal in the future.
-
-One could prove the tendency towards the Servile State in England to-day to
-a man who knew nothing of the past of Europe; but that tendency will seem
-to him far more reasonably probable, far more a matter of experience and
-less a matter of mere deduction, when he knows what our society once was,
-and how it changed into what we know to-day.
-
-
-
-
-Section Two
-Our Civilisation Was Originally Servile
-
-
-In no matter what field of the European past we make our research, we find,
-from two thousand years ago upwards, one fundamental institution whereupon
-the whole of society reposes; that fundamental institution is Slavery.
-
-There is here no distinction between the highly civilised City-State of the
-Mediterranean, with its letters, its plastic art, and its code of laws,
-with all that makes a civilisation--and this stretching back far beyond any
-surviving record,--there is here no distinction between that civilised body
-and the Northern and Western societies of the Celtic tribes, or of the
-little known hordes that wandered in the Germanies. _All_ indifferently
-reposed upon slavery. It was a fundamental conception of society. It was
-everywhere present, nowhere disputed.
-
-There _is_ a distinction (or would appear to be) between Europeans and
-Asiatics in this matter. The religion and morals of the one so differed in
-their very origin from those of the other that every social institution was
-touched by the contrast--and Slavery among the rest.
-
-But with that we need not concern ourselves. My point is that our European
-ancestry, those men from whom we are descended and whose blood runs with
-little admixture in our veins, took slavery for granted, made of it the
-economic pivot upon which the production of wealth should turn, and never
-doubted but that it was normal to all human society.
-
-It is a matter of capital importance to seize this.
-
-An arrangement of such a sort would not have endured without intermission
-(and indeed without question) for many centuries, nor have been found
-emerging fully grown from that vast space of unrecorded time during which
-barbarism and civilisation flourished side by side in Europe, had there not
-been something in it, good or evil, native to our blood.
-
-There was no question in those ancient societies from which we spring of
-making subject races into slaves by the might of conquering races. All that
-is the guess-work of the universities. Not only is there no proof of it,
-rather all the existing proof is the other way. The Greek had a Greek
-slave, the Latin a Latin slave, the German a German slave, the Celt a
-Celtic slave. The theory that "superior races" invaded a land, either drove
-out the original inhabitants or reduced them to slavery, is one which has
-no argument either from our present knowledge of man's mind or from
-recorded evidence. Indeed, the most striking feature of that Servile Basis
-upon which Paganism reposed was the human equality recognised between
-master and slave. The master might kill the slave, but both were of one
-race and each was human to the other.
-
-This spiritual value was not, as a further pernicious piece of guess-work
-would dream, a "growth" or a "progress." The doctrine of human equality was
-inherent in the very stuff of antiquity, as it is inherent in those
-societies which have not lost tradition.
-
-We may presume that the barbarian of the North would grasp the great truth
-with less facility than the civilised man of the Mediterranean, because
-barbarism everywhere shows a retrogression in intellectual power; but the
-proof that the Servile Institution was a social arrangement rather than a
-distinction of type is patent from the coincidence everywhere of
-Emancipation with Slavery. Pagan Europe not only thought the existence of
-Slaves a natural necessity to society, but equally thought that upon giving
-a Slave his freedom the enfranchised man would naturally step, though
-perhaps after the interval of some lineage, into the ranks of free society.
-Great poets and great artists, statesmen and soldiers were little troubled
-by the memory of a servile ancestry.
-
-On the other hand, there was a perpetual recruitment of the Servile
-Institution, just as there was a perpetual emancipation from it, proceeding
-year after year; and the natural or normal method of recruitment is most
-clearly apparent to us in the simple and barbaric societies which the
-observation of contemporary civilised Pagans enables us to judge.
-
-It was poverty that made the slave.
-
-Prisoners of war taken in set combat afforded one mode of recruitment, and
-there was also the raiding of men by pirates in the outer lands and the
-selling of them in the slave markets of the South. But at once the cause of
-the recruitment and the permanent support of the institution of slavery was
-the indigence of the man who sold himself into slavery, _or was born into
-it_; for it was a rule of Pagan Slavery that the slave bred the slave, and
-that even if one of the parents were free the offspring was a slave.
-
-The society of antiquity, therefore, was normally divided (as must at last
-be the society of any servile state) into clearly marked sections: there
-was upon the one hand the citizen who had a voice in the conduct of the
-State, who would often labour--but labour of his own free will--and who was
-normally possessed of property; upon the other hand, there was a mass
-dispossessed of the means of production and compelled by positive law to
-labour at command.
-
-It is true that in the further developments of society the accumulation of
-private savings by a slave was tolerated and that slaves so favoured did
-sometimes purchase their freedom.
-
-It is further true that in the confusion of the last generations of
-Paganism there arose in some of the great cities a considerable class of
-men who, though free, were dispossessed of the means of production. But
-these last never existed in a sufficient proportion to stamp the whole
-State of society with a character drawn from their proletarian
-circumstance. To the end the Pagan world remained a world of free
-proprietors possessed, in various degrees, of the land and of the capital
-whereby wealth may be produced, and applying to that land and capital for
-the purpose of producing wealth, _compulsory_ labour.
-
-Certain features in that original Servile State from which we all spring
-should be carefully noted by way of conclusion.
-
-First, though all nowadays contrast slavery with freedom to the advantage
-of the latter, yet men then accepted slavery freely as an alternative to
-indigence.
-
-Secondly (and this is most important for our judgment of the Servile
-Institution as a whole, and of the chances of its return), in all those
-centuries we find no organised effort, nor (what is still more significant)
-do we find any _complaint of conscience_ against the institution which
-condemned the bulk of human beings to forced labour.
-
-Slaves may be found in the literary exercises of the time bewailing their
-lot and joking about it; some philosophers will complain that an ideal
-society should contain no slaves; others will excuse the establishment of
-slavery upon this plea or that, while granting that it offends the dignity
-of man. The greater part will argue of the State that it is necessarily
-Servile. But no one, slave or free, dreams of abolishing or even of
-changing the thing. You have no martyrs for the case of "freedom" as
-against "slavery." The so-called Servile wars are the resistance on the
-part of escaped slaves to any attempt at recapture, but they are not
-accompanied by an accepted affirmation that servitude is an intolerable
-thing; nor is that note struck at all from the unknown beginnings to the
-Catholic endings of the Pagan world. Slavery is irksome, undignified,
-woeful; but it is, to them, of the nature of things.
-
-You may say, to be brief, that this arrangement of society was the very air
-which Pagan Antiquity breathed.
-
-Its great works, its leisure and its domestic life, its humour, its
-reserves of power, all depend upon the fact that its society was that of
-the Servile State.
-
-Men were happy in that arrangement, or, at least, as happy as men ever are.
-
-The attempt to escape by a personal effort, whether of thrift, of
-adventure, or of flattery to a master, from the Servile condition had never
-even so much of driving power behind it as the attempt many show to-day to
-escape from the rank of wage-earners to those of employers. Servitude did
-not seem a hell into which a man would rather die than sink, or out of
-which at any sacrifice whatsoever a man would raise himself. It was a
-condition accepted by those who suffered it as much as by those who enjoyed
-it, and a perfectly necessary part of all that men did and thought.
-
-You find no barbarian from some free place astonished at the institution of
-Slavery; you find no Slave pointing to a society in which Slavery was
-unknown as towards a happier land. To our ancestors not only for those few
-centuries during which we have record of their actions, but apparently
-during an illimitable past, the division of society into those who must
-work under compulsion and those who would benefit by their labour was the
-very plan of the State apart from which they could hardly think of society
-as existing at all.
-
-Let all this be clearly grasped. It is fundamental to an understanding of
-the problem before us. Slavery is no novel experience in the history of
-Europe; nor is one suffering an odd dream when one talks of Slavery as
-acceptable to European men. Slavery was of the very stuff of Europe for
-thousands upon thousands of years, until Europe engaged upon that
-considerable moral experiment called _The Faith_, which many believe to be
-now accomplished and discarded, and in the failure of which it would seem
-that the old and primary institution of Slavery must return.
-
-For there came upon us Europeans after all those centuries, and centuries
-of a settled social order which was erected upon Slavery as upon a sure
-foundation, the experiment called the Christian Church.
-
-Among the by-products of this experiment, very slowly emerging from the old
-Pagan world, and not long completed before Christendom itself suffered a
-shipwreck, was the exceedingly gradual transformation of the Servile State
-into something other: a society of owners. And how that something other did
-proceed from the Pagan Servile State I will next explain.
-
-
-
-
-Section Three
-How the Servile Institution Was for a Time Dissolved
-
-
-The process by which slavery disappeared among Christian men, though very
-lengthy in its development (it covered close upon a thousand years), and
-though exceedingly complicated in its detail, may be easily and briefly
-grasped in its main lines.
-
-Let it first be clearly understood that the vast revolution through which
-the European mind passed bet ween the first and the fourth centuries (that
-revolution which is often termed the Conversion of the World to
-Christianity, but which should for purposes of historical accuracy be
-called the Growth of the Church) included no attack upon the Servile
-Institution.
-
-No dogma of the Church pronounced Slavery to be immoral, or the sale and
-purchase of men to be a sin, or the imposition of compulsory labour upon a
-Christian to be a contravention of any human right.
-
-The emancipation of Slaves was indeed regarded as a good work by the
-Faithful: but so was it regarded by the Pagan. It was, on the face of it, a
-service rendered to one's fellowmen. The sale of Christians to Pagan
-masters was abhorrent to the later empire of the Barbarian Invasions, not
-because slavery in itself was condemned, but because it was a sort of
-treason to civilisation to force men away from Civilisation to Barbarism.
-In general you will discover no pronouncement against slavery as an
-institution, nor any moral definition attacking it, throughout all those
-early Christian centuries during which it none the less effectively
-disappears.
-
-The form of its disappearance is well worth noting. It begins with the
-establishment as the fundamental unit of production in Western Europe of
-those great landed estates, commonly lying in the hands of a single
-proprietor, and generally known as /Villae/.
-
-There were, of course, many other forms of human agglomeration: small
-peasant farms owned in absolute proprietorship by their petty masters;
-groups of free men associated in what was called a Vicus; manufactories in
-which groups of slaves were industrially organised to the profit of their
-master; and, governing the regions around them, the scheme of Roman towns.
-
-But of all these the Villa the dominating type; and as society passed from
-the high civilisation of the first four centuries into the simplicity of
-the Dark Ages, the Villa, the unit of agricultural production, became more
-and more the model of all society.
-
-Now the Villa began as a considerable extent of land, containing, like a
-modern English estate, pasture, arable, water, wood and heath, or waste
-land. It was owned by a dominus or _lord_ in absolute proprietorship, to
-sell, or leave by will, to do with it whatsoever he chose. It was
-cultivated for him by _Slaves_ to whom he owed nothing in return, and whom
-it was simply his interest to keep alive and to continue breeding in order
-that they might perpetuate his wealth.
-
-I concentrate particularly upon these Slaves, the great majority of the
-human beings inhabiting the land, because, although there arose in the Dark
-Ages, when the Roman Empire was passing into the society of the Middle
-Ages, other social elements within the _Villae_--the Freed men who owed the
-lord a modified service, and even occasionally independent citizens present
-through a contract terminable and freely entered into yet it is the _Slave_
-who is the mark of all that society.
-
-At its origin, then, the Roman Villa was a piece of absolute property, the
-production of wealth upon which was due to the application of slave labour
-to the natural resources of the place; and that slave labour was as much
-the property of the lord as was the land itself.
-
-The first modification which this arrangement showed in the new society
-which accompanied the growth and establishment of the Church in the Roman
-world, was a sort of customary rule which modified the old arbitrary
-position of the Slave.
-
-The Slave was still a Slave, but it was both more convenient in the decay
-of communications and public power, and more consonant with the social
-spirit of the time to make sure of that Slave's produce by asking him for
-no more than certain customary dues. The Slave and his descendants became
-more or less rooted to one spot. Some were still bought and sold, but in
-decreasing numbers. As the generations passed a larger and a larger
-proportion lived where and as their fathers had lived, and the produce
-which they raised was fixed more and more at a certain amount, which the
-lord was content to receive and ask no more. The arrangement was made
-workable by leaving to the Slave all the remaining produce of his own
-labour. There was a sort of implied bargain here, in the absence of public
-powers and in the decline of the old highly centralised and vigorous system
-which could always guarantee to the master the full product of the Slave's
-effort. The bargain implied was, that if the Slave Community of the Villa
-would produce for the benefit of its Lord not less than a certain customary
-amount of goods from the soil of the Villa, the Lord could count on their
-always exercising that effort by leaving to them all the surplus, which
-they could increase, if they willed, indefinitely.
-
-By the ninth century, when this process had been gradually at work for a
-matter of some three hundred years, one fixed form of productive unit began
-to be apparent throughout Western Christendom.
-
-The old absolutely owned estate had come to be divided into three portions.
-One of these was pasture and arable land, reserved privately to the lord,
-and called _domain_: that is, lord's land. Another was in the occupation,
-and already almost in the possession (practically, though not legally), of
-those who had once been Slaves. A third was common land over which both the
-Lord and the Slave exercised each their various rights, which rights were
-minutely remembered and held sacred by custom. For instance, in a certain
-village, if there was beech pasture for three hundred swine, the lord might
-put in but fifty: two hundred and fifty were the rights of the "village."
-
-Upon the first of these portions, Domain, wealth was produced by the
-obedience of the Slave for certain fixed hours of labour. He must come so
-many days a week, or upon such and such occasions (all fixed and
-customary), to till the land of the Domain for his Lord, and _all_ the
-produce of this must be handed over to the Lord though, of course, a daily
-wage in kind was allowed, for the labourer must live.
-
-Upon the second portion, "Land in Villenage," which was nearly always the
-most of the arable and pasture land of the _Villae_, the Slaves worked by
-rules and customs which they gradually came to elaborate for themselves.
-They worked under an officer of their own, sometimes nominated, sometimes
-elected: nearly always, in practice, a man suitable to them and more or
-less of their choice; though this co-operative work upon the old
-Slave-ground was controlled by the general customs of the village, common
-to lord and slave alike, and the principal officer over both kinds of land
-was the Lord's Steward.
-
-Of the wealth so produced by the Slaves, a certain fixed portion (estimated
-originally in kind) was payable to the Lord's Bailiff, and became the
-property of the Lord.
-
-Finally, on the third division of the land, the "Waste," the "Wood," the
-"Heath," and certain common pastures, wealth was produced as elsewhere by
-the labour of those who had once been the Slaves, but divided in customary
-proportions between them and their master. Thus, such and such a water
-meadow would have grazing for so many oxen; the number was rigidly defined,
-and of that number so many would be the Lord's and so many the Villagers'.
-
-During the eighth, ninth and tenth centuries this system crystallised and
-became so natural in men's eyes that the original servile character of the
-working folk upon the Villa was forgotten.
-
-The documents of the time are rare. These three centuries are the crucible
-of Europe, and record is drowned and burnt in them. Our study of their
-social conditions, especially in the latter part, are matter rather of
-inference than of direct evidence. But the sale and purchase of men,
-already exceptional at the beginning of this period, is almost unknown
-before the end of it. Apart from domestic slaves within the household,
-slavery in the old sense which Pagan antiquity gave that institution had
-been transformed out of all knowledge, and when, with the eleventh century,
-the true Middle Ages begin to spring from the soil of the Dark Ages, and a
-new civilisation to arise, though the old word _servus_ (the Latin for a
-slave) is still used for the man who works the soil, his status in the now
-increasing number of documents which we can consult is wholly changed; we
-can certainly no longer translate the word by the English word _slave_; we
-are compelled to translate it by a new word with very different
-connotations: the word _serf_.
-
-The Serf of the early Middle Ages, of the eleventh and early twelfth
-centuries, of the Crusades and the Norman Conquest, is already nearly a
-peasant. He is indeed bound in legal theory to the soil upon which he was
-born. In social practice, all that is required of him is that his family
-should till its quota of servile land, and that the dues to the lord shall
-not fail from absence of labour. That duty fulfilled, it is easy and common
-for members of the serf-class to enter the professions and the Church, or
-to go wild; to become men practically free in the growing industries of the
-towns. With every passing generation the ancient servile conception of the
-labourer's status grows more and more dim, and the Courts and the practice
-of society treat him more and more as a man strictly bound to certain dues
-and to certain periodical labour within his industrial unit, but in all
-other respects free.
-
-As the civilisation of the Middle Ages develops, as wealth increases and
-the arts progressively flourish, this character of freedom becomes more
-marked. In spite of attempts in time of scarcity (as after a plague) to
-insist upon the old rights to compulsory labour, the habit of commuting
-these rights for money-payments and dues has grown too strong to be
-resisted.
-
-If at the end of the fourteenth century, let us say, or at the beginning of
-the fifteenth, you had visited some Squire upon his estate in France or in
-England, he would have told you of the whole of it, "These are my lands."
-But the peasant (as he now was) would have said also of his holding, "This
-is my land." He could not be evicted from it. The dues which he was
-customarily bound to pay were but a fraction of its total produce. He could
-not always sell it, but it was always inheritable from father to son; and,
-in general, at the close of this long process of a thousand years the Slave
-had become a free man for all the ordinary purposes of society. He bought
-and sold. He saved as he willed, he invested, he built, he drained at his
-discretion, and if he improved the land it was to his own profit.
-
-Meanwhile, side by side with this emancipation of mankind in the direct
-line of descent from the old chattel slaves of the Roman villa went, in the
-Middle Ages, a crowd of institutions which all similarly made for a
-distribution of property, and for the destruction of even the fossil
-remnants of a then forgotten Servile State. Thus industry of every kind in
-the towns, in transport, in crafts, and in commerce, was organised in the
-form of _Guilds_. And a Guild was a society partly co-operative, but in the
-main composed of private owners of capital whose corporation was
-self-governing, and was designed to check competition between its members:
-to prevent the growth of one at the expense of the other. Above all, most
-jealously did the Guild safeguard the division of property, so that there
-should be formed within its ranks no proletariat upon the one side, and no
-monopolising capitalist upon the other.
-
-There was a period of apprenticeship at a man's entry into a Guild, during
-which he worked for a master; but in time he became a master in his turn.
-The existence of such corporations as the normal units of industrial
-production, of commercial effort, and of the means of transport, is proof
-enough of what the social spirit was which had also enfranchised the
-labourer upon the land. And while such institutions flourished side by side
-with the no longer servile village communities, freehold or absolute
-possession of the soil, as distinguished from the tenure of the serf under
-the lord, also increased.
-
-These three forms under which labour was exercised the serf, secure in his
-position, and burdened only with regular dues, which were but a fraction of
-his produce; the freeholder, a man independent save for money dues, which
-were more of a tax than a rent; the Guild, in which well-divided capital
-worked co-operatively for craft production, for transport and for
-commerce--all three between them were making for a society which should be
-based upon the principle of property. All, or most,--the normal
-family--should own. And on ownership the freedom of the State should
-repose.
-
-The State, as the minds of men envisaged it at the close of this process,
-was an agglomeration of families of varying wealth, but by far the greater
-number owners of the means of production. It was an agglomeration in which
-the stability of this _distributive_ system (as I have called it) was
-guaranteed by the existence of co-operative bodies, binding men of the same
-craft or of the same village together; guaranteeing the small proprietor
-against loss of his economic independence, while at the same time it
-guaranteed society against the growth of a proletariat. If liberty of
-purchase and of sale, of mortgage and of inheritance was restricted, it was
-restricted with the social object of preventing the growth of an economic
-oligarchy which could exploit the rest of the community. The restraints
-upon liberty were restraints designed for the preservation of liberty; and
-every action of Mediaeval Society, from the flower of the Middle Ages to
-the approach of their catastrophe, was directed towards the establishment
-of a State in which men should be economically free through the possession
-of capital and of land.
-
-Save here and there in legal formulae, or in rare patches isolated and
-eccentric, the Servile Institution had totally disappeared; nor must it be
-imagined that anything in the nature of Collectivism had replaced it. There
-was common land, but it was common land jealously guarded by men who were
-also personal proprietors of other land. Common property in the village was
-but one of the forms of property, and was used rather as the fly-wheel to
-preserve the regularity of the co-operative machine than as a type of
-holding in any way peculiarly sacred. The Guilds had property in common,
-but that property was the property necessary to their co-operative life,
-their Halls, their Funds for Relief, their Religious Endowments. As for the
-instruments of their trades, those instruments were owned by the individual
-members, _not_ by the guild, save where they were of so expensive a kind as
-to necessitate a corporate control.
-
-Such was the transformation which had come over European society in the
-course of ten Christian centuries. Slavery had gone, and in its place had
-come that establishment of free possession which seemed so normal to men,
-and so consonant to a happy human life. No particular name was then found
-for it. To-day, and now that it has disappeared, we must construct an
-awkward one, and say that the Middle Ages had instinctively conceived and
-brought into existence the /Distributive State/.
-
-That excellent consummation of human society passed, as we know, and was in
-certain Provinces of Europe, but more particularly in Britain, destroyed.
-
-For a society in which the determinant mass of families were owners of
-capital and of land; for one in which production was regulated by
-self-governing corporations of small owners; and for one in which the
-misery and insecurity of a proletariat was unknown, there came to be
-substituted the dreadful moral anarchy against which all moral effort is
-now turned, and which goes by the name of _Capitalism_.
-
-How did such a catastrophe come about? Why was it permitted, and upon what
-historical process did the evil batten? What turned an England economically
-free into the England which we know to-day, of which at least one-third is
-indigent, of which nineteen-twentieths are dispossessed of capital and of
-land, and of which the whole industry and national life is controlled upon
-its economic side by a few chance directors of millions, a few masters of
-unsocial and irresponsible monopolies?
-
-The answer most usually given to this fundamental question in our history,
-and the one most readily accepted, is that this misfortune came about
-through a material process known as the _Industrial Revolution_. The use of
-expensive machinery, the concentration of industry and of its implements
-are imagined to have enslaved, in some blind way, apart from the human
-will, the action of English mankind.
-
-The explanation is wholly false. No such material cause determined the
-degradation from which we suffer.
-
-It was the deliberate action of men, evil will in a few and apathy of will
-among the many, which produced a catastrophe as human in its causes and
-inception as in its vile effect.
-
-Capitalism was not the growth of the industrial movement, nor of chance
-material discoveries. A little acquaintance with history and a little
-straightforwardness in the teaching of it would be enough to prove that.
-
-The Industrial System was a growth proceeding from Capitalism, not its
-cause. Capitalism was here in England before the Industrial System came
-into being;--before the use of coal and of the new expensive machinery, and
-of the concentration of the implements of production in the great towns.
-Had Capitalism not been present before the Industrial Revolution, that
-revolution might have proved as beneficent to Englishmen as it has proved
-maleficent. But Capitalism--that is, the ownership by a few of the springs
-of life--was present long before the great discoveries came. It warped the
-effect of these discoveries and new inventions, and it turned them from a
-good into an evil thing. It was not machinery that lost us our freedom; it
-was the loss of a free mind.
-
-
-
-
-Section Four
-How the Distributive State Failed
-
-
-With the close of the middle ages the societies of Western Christendom and
-England among the rest were economically free.
-
-Property was an institution native to the State and enjoyed by the great
-mass of its citizens. Co-operative institutions, voluntary regulations of
-labour, restricted the completely independent use of property by its owners
-only in order to keep that institution intact and to prevent the absorption
-of small property by great.
-
-This excellent state of affairs which we had reached after many centuries
-of Christian development, and in which the old institution of slavery had
-been finally eliminated from Christendom, did not everywhere survive. In
-England in particular it was ruined. The seeds of the disaster were sown in
-the sixteenth century. Its first apparent effects came to light in the
-seventeenth. During the eighteenth century England came to be finally,
-though insecurely, established upon a proletarian basis, that is, it had
-already become a society of rich men possessed of the means of production
-on the one hand, and a majority dispossessed of those means upon the other.
-With the nineteenth century the evil plant had come to its maturity, and
-England had become before the close of that period a purely Capitalist
-State, the type and model of Capitalism for the whole world: with the means
-of production tightly held by a very small group of citizens, and the whole
-determining mass of the nation dispossessed of capital and land, and
-dispossessed, therefore, in all cases of security, and in many of
-sufficiency as well. The mass of Englishmen, still possessed of political,
-lacked more and more the elements of economic, freedom, and were in a worse
-posture than free citizens have ever found themselves before in the history
-of Europe.
-
-By what steps did so enormous a catastrophe fall upon us?
-
-The first step in the process consisted in the mishandling of a great
-economic revolution which marked the sixteenth century. The lands and the
-accumulated wealth of the monasteries were taken out of, the hands of their
-old possessors with the intention of vesting them in the Crown--but they
-passed, as a fact, not into the hands of the Crown, but into the hands of
-an already wealthy section of the community who, after the change was
-complete, became in the succeeding hundred years the governing power of
-England.
-
-This is what happened:--
-
-The England of the early sixteenth century, the England over which Henry
-VIII inherited his powerful Crown in youth, though it was an England in
-which the great mass of men owned the land they tilled and the houses in
-which they dwelt, and the implements with which they worked, was yet an
-England in which these goods, though widely distributed, were distributed
-unequally.
-
-Then, as now, the soil and its fixtures were the basis of all wealth, but
-the proportion between the value of the soil and its fixtures and the value
-of other means of production (implements, stores of clothing and of
-subsistence, etc.) was different from what it is now. The land and the
-fixtures upon it formed a very much larger fraction of the totality of the
-means of production than they do to-day. They represent to-day not one-half
-the total means of production of this country, and though they are the
-necessary foundation for all wealth production, yet our great machines, our
-stores of food and clothing, our coal and oil, our ships and the rest of
-it, come to more than the true value of the land and of the fixtures upon
-the land: they come to more than the arable soil and the pasture, the
-constructional value of the houses, wharves and docks, and so forth. In the
-early sixteenth century the land and the fixtures upon it came, upon the
-contrary, to very much more than all other forms of wealth combined.
-
-Now this form of wealth was here, more than in any other Western European
-country, already in the hands of a wealthy land-owning class at the end of
-the Middle Ages.
-
-It is impossible to give exact statistics, because none were gathered, and
-we can only make general statements based upon inference and research. But,
-roughly speaking, we may say that of the total value of the land and its
-fixtures, probably rather more than a quarter, though less than a third,
-was in the hands of this wealthy class.
-
-The England of that day was mainly agricultural, and consisted of more than
-four, but less than six million people, and in every agricultural community
-you would have the Lord, as he was legally called (the squire, as he was
-already conversationally termed), in possession of more demesne land than
-in any other country. On the average you found him, I say, owning in this
-absolute fashion rather more than a quarter, perhaps a third of the land of
-the village: in the towns the distribution was more even. Sometimes it was
-a private individual who was in this position, sometimes a corporation, but
-in every village you would have found this demesne land absolutely owned by
-the political head of the village, occupying a considerable proportion of
-its acreage. The rest, though distributed as property among the less
-fortunate of the population, and carrying with it houses and implements
-from which they could not be dispossessed, paid certain dues to the Lord,
-and, what was more, the Lord exercised local justice. This class of wealthy
-landowners had been also for now one hundred years the Justices upon whom
-local administration depended.
-
-There was no reason why this state of affairs should not gradually have led
-to the rise of the Peasant and the decay of the Lord. That is what happened
-in France, and it might perfectly well have happened here. A peasantry
-eager to purchase might have gradually extended their holdings at the
-expense of the demesne land, and to the distribution of property, which was
-already fairly complete, there might have been added another excellent
-element, namely, the more equal possession of that property. But any such
-process of gradual buying by the small man from the great, such as would
-seem natural to the temper of us European people, and such as has since
-taken place nearly everywhere in countries which were left free to act upon
-their popular instincts, was interrupted in this country by an artificial
-revolution of the most violent kind. This artificial revolution consisted
-in the seizing of the monastic lands by the Crown.
-
-It is important to grasp clearly the nature of this operation, for the
-whole economic future of England was to flow from it.
-
-Of the _demesne_ lands, and the power of local administration which they
-carried with them (a very important feature, as we shall see later), rather
-more than a quarter were in the hands of the Church; the Church was
-therefore the "Lord" of something over 25 per cent. say 28 per cent. or
-perhaps nearly 30 per cent. of English agricultural communities, and the
-overseers of a like proportion of all English agricultural produce. The
-Church was further the absolute owner in practice of something like 30 per
-cent. of the demesne land in the villages, and the receiver of something
-like 30 per cent. of the customary dues, etc., paid by the smaller owners
-to the greater. All this economic power lay until 1535 in the hands of
-Cathedral Chapters, communities of monks and nuns, educational
-establishments conducted by the clergy, and so forth.
-
-When the Monastic lands were confiscated by Henry VIII, not the whole of
-this vast economic influence was suddenly extinguished. The secular clergy
-remained endowed, and most of the educational establishments, though
-looted, retained some revenue; but though the whole 30 per cent. did not
-suffer confiscation, something well over 20 per cent. did, and the
-revolution effected by this vast operation was by far the most complete,
-the most sudden, and the most momentous of any that has taken place in the
-economic history of any European people.
-
-It was at first _intended_ to retain this great mass of the means of
-production in the hands of the Crown: that must be clearly remembered by
-any student of the fortunes of England, and by all who marvel at the
-contrast between the old England and the new.
-
-Had that intention been firmly maintained, the English State and its
-government would have been the most powerful in Europe.
-
-The Executive (which in those days meant the _King_) would have had a
-greater opportunity for crushing the resistance of the wealthy, for backing
-its political power with economic power, and for ordering the social life
-of its subjects than any other executive in Christendom.
-
-Had Henry VIII and his successors kept the land thus confiscated, the power
-of the French Monarchy, at which we are astonished, would have been nothing
-to the power of the English.
-
-The King of England would have had in his own hands an instrument of
-control of the most absolute sort. He would presumably have used it, as a
-strong central government always does, for the weakening of the wealthier
-classes, and to the indirect advantage of the mass of the people. At any
-rate, it would have been a very different England indeed from the England
-we know, if the King had held fast to his own after the dissolution of the
-monasteries.
-
-Now it is precisely here that the capital point in this great revolution
-appears. _The King failed to keep the lands he had seized._ That class of
-large landowners which already existed and controlled, as I have said,
-anything from a quarter to a third of the agricultural values of England,
-were too strong for the monarchy. They insisted upon land being granted to
-themselves, sometimes freely, sometimes for ridiculously small sums, and
-they were strong enough in Parliament, and through the local administrative
-power they had, to see that their demands were satisfied. Nothing that the
-Crown let go ever went back to the Crown, and year after year more and more
-of what had once been the monastic land became the absolute possession of
-the large landowners.
-
-Observe the effect of this. All over England men who already held in
-virtually absolute property from one-quarter to one-third of the soil and
-the ploughs and the barns of a village, became possessed in a very few
-years of a further great section of the means of production, which turned
-the scale wholly in their favour. They added to that third a new and extra
-fifth. They became at a blow the owners of _half_ the land! In many centres
-of capital importance they had come to own _more_ than half the land. They
-were in many districts not only the unquestioned superiors, but the
-economic masters of the rest of the community. They could buy to the
-greatest advantage. They were strictly _competitive_, getting every
-shilling of due and of rent where the old clerical landlords had been
-_customary_--leaving much to the tenant. They began to fill the
-universities, the judiciary. The Crown less and less decided between great
-and small. More and more the great could decide in their own favour. They
-soon possessed by these operations the bulk of the means of production, and
-they immediately began the process of eating up the small independent men
-and gradually forming those great estates which, in the course of a few
-generations, became identical with the village itself. All over England you
-may notice that the great squires' houses date from this revolution or
-after it. The manorial house, the house of the local great man as it was in
-the Middle Ages, survives here and there to show of what immense effect
-this revolution was. The low-timbered place with its steadings and
-outbuildings, only a larger farmhouse among the other farmhouses, is turned
-after the Reformation and thenceforward into a palace. Save where great
-castles (which were only held of the Crown and not owned) made an
-exception, the pre-Reformation gentry lived as men richer than, but not the
-masters of, other farmers around them. _After_ the Reformation there began
-to arise all over England those great "country houses" which rapidly became
-the typical centres of English agricultural life.
-
-The process was in full swing before Henry died. Unfortunately for England,
-he left as his heir a sickly child, during the six years of whose reign,
-from 1547 to 1553, the loot went on at an appalling rate. When he died and
-Mary came to the throne it was nearly completed. A mass of new families had
-arisen, wealthy out of all proportion to anything which the older England
-had known, and bound by a common interest to the older families which had
-joined in the grab. Every single man who sat in Parliament for a country
-required his price for voting the dissolution of the monasteries; every
-single man received it. A list of the members of the Dissolution Parliament
-is enough to prove this, and, apart from their power in Parliament, this
-class had a hundred other ways of insisting on their will. The Howards
-(already of some lineage), the Cavendishes, the Cecils, the Russels, and
-fifty other new families thus rose upon the ruins of religion; and the
-process went steadily on until, about one hundred years after its
-inception, the whole face of England was changed.
-
-In the place of a powerful Crown disposing of revenues far greater than
-that of any subject, you had a Crown at its wit's end for money, and
-dominated by subjects some of whom were its equals in wealth, and who
-could, especially through the action of Parliament (which they now
-controlled), do much what they willed with Government.
-
-In other words, by the first third of the seventeenth century, by 1630--40,
-the economic revolution was finally accomplished, and the new economic
-reality thrusting itself upon the old traditions of England was a powerful
-oligarchy of large owners overshadowing an impoverished and dwindled
-monarchy.
-
-Other causes had contributed to this deplorable result. The change in the
-value of money had hit the Crown very hard;[2] the peculiar history of the
-Tudor family, their violent passions, their lack of resolution and of any
-continuous policy, to some extent the character of Charles I himself, and
-many another subsidiary cause may be quoted. But the great main fact upon
-which the whole thing is dependent is the fact that the Monastic Lands, at
-least a fifth of the wealth of the country, had been transferred to the
-great landowners, and that this transference had tipped the scale over
-entirely in their favour as against the peasantry.
-
-The diminished and impoverished Crown could no longer stand. It fought
-against the new wealth, the struggle of the Civil Wars; it was utterly
-defeated; and when a final settlement was arrived at in 1660, you have all
-the realities of power in the hands of a small powerful class of wealthy
-men, the King still surrounded by the forms and traditions of his old
-power, but in practice a salaried puppet. And in that economic world which
-underlies all political appearances, the great dominating note was that a
-few wealthy families had got hold of the bulk of the means of production in
-England, while the same families exercised all local administrative power
-and were moreover the Judges, the Higher Education, the Church, and the
-generals. They quite overshadowed what was left of central government in
-this country.
-
-Take, as a starting-point for what followed, the date 1700. By that time
-more than half of the English were dispossessed of capital and of land. Not
-one man in two, even if you reckon the very small owners, inhabited a house
-of which he was the secure possessor, or tilled land from which he could
-not be turned off.
-
-Such a proportion may seem to us to-day a wonderfully free arrangement, and
-certainly if nearly one-half of our population were possessed of the means
-of production, we should be in a very different situation from that in
-which we find ourselves. But the point to seize is that, though the bad
-business was very far from completion in or about the year 1700, yet by
-that date England had already become /Capitalist/. She had already
-permitted a vast section of her population to become _proletarian_, and it
-is this and _not_ the so-called "Industrial Revolution," a later thing,
-which accounts for the terrible social condition in which we find ourselves
-to-day.
-
-How true this is what I still have to say in this section will prove.
-
-In an England thus already cursed with a very large proletariat class, and
-in an England already directed by a dominating Capitalist class, possessing
-the means of production, there came a great industrial development.
-
-Had that industrial development come upon a people economically free, it
-would have taken a co-operative form. Coming as it did upon a people which
-had already largely lost its economic freedom, it took at its very origin a
-_Capitalist_ form, and this form it has retained, expanded, and perfected
-throughout two hundred years.
-
-It was in England that the Industrial System arose. It was in England that
-all its traditions and habits were formed; and because the England in which
-it arose was already a Capitalist England, modern Industrialism, wherever
-you see it at work to-day, having spread from England, has proceeded upon
-the Capitalist model.
-
-It was in 1705 that the first practical steam-engine, Newcomen's, was set
-to work. The life of a man elapsed before this invention was made, by
-Watt's introduction of the condenser, into the great instrument of
-production which has transformed our industry--but in those sixty years all
-the origins of the Industrial System are to be discovered. It was just
-before Watt's patent that Hargreaves' spinning-jenny appeared. Thirty years
-earlier, Abraham Darby of Colebrook Dale, at the end of a long series of
-experiments which had covered more than a century, smelted iron-ore
-successfully with coke. Not twenty years later, King introduced the flying
-shuttle, the first great improvement in the hand-loom; and in general the
-period covered by such a life as that of Dr Johnson, born just after
-Newcomen's engine was first set working, and dying seventy-four years
-afterwards, when the Industrial System was in full blast, covers that great
-transformation of England. A man who, as a child, could remember the last
-years of Queen Anne, and who lived to the eve of the French Revolution, saw
-passing before his eyes the change which transformed English society and
-has led it to the expansion and peril in which we see it to-day.
-
-What was the characteristic mark of that half-century and more? Why did the
-new inventions give us the form of society now known and hated under the
-name of Industrial? Why did the vast increase in the powers of production,
-in population and in accumulation of wealth, turn the mass of Englishmen
-into a poverty-stricken proletariat, cut off the rich from the rest of the
-nation, and develop to the full all the evils which we associate with the
-Capitalist State?
-
-To that question an answer almost as universal as it is unintelligent has
-been given. That answer is not only unintelligent but false, and it will be
-my business here to show how false it is. The answer so provided in
-innumerable textbooks, and taken almost as commonplace in our universities,
-is that the new methods of production--the new machinery, the new
-implements--fatally and of themselves developed a Capitalist State in which
-a few should own the means of production and the mass should be
-proletariat. The new instruments, it is pointed out, were on so vastly
-greater a scale than the old, and were so much more expensive, that the
-small man could not afford them; while the rich man, who could afford them,
-ate up by his competition, and reduced from the position of a small owner
-to that of a wage-earner, his insufficiently equipped competitor who still
-attempted to struggle on with the older and cheaper tools. To this (we are
-told) the advantages of concentration were added in favour of the large
-owner against the small. Not only were the new instruments expensive almost
-in proportion to their efficiency, but, especially after the introduction
-of steam, they were efficient in proportion to their concentration in few
-places and under the direction of a few men. Under the effect of such false
-arguments as these we have been taught to believe that the horrors of the
-Industrial System were a blind and necessary product of material and
-impersonal forces, and that wherever the steam engine, the power loom, the
-blast furnace and the rest were introduced, there fatally would soon appear
-a little group of owners exploiting a vast majority of the dispossessed.
-
-It is astonishing that a statement so unhistorical should have gained so
-general a credence. Indeed, were the main truths of English history taught
-in our schools and universities to-day, were educated men familiar with the
-determining and major facts of the national past, such follies could never
-have taken root. The vast growth of the proletariat, the concentration of
-ownership into the hands of a few owners, and the exploitation by those
-owners of the mass of the community, had no fatal or necessary connection
-with the discovery of new and perpetually improving methods of production.
-The evil proceeded indirect historical sequence, proceeded patently and
-demonstrably, from the fact that England, the seed-plot of the Industrial
-System, was _already_ captured by a wealthy oligarchy _before_ the series
-of great discoveries began.
-
-Consider in what way the Industrial System developed upon Capitalist lines.
-Why were a few rich men put with such ease into possession of the new
-methods? Why was it normal and natural in their eyes and in that of
-contemporary society that those who produced the new wealth with the new
-machinery should be proletarian and dispossessed? Simply because the
-England upon which the new discoveries had come was _already_ an England
-owned as to its soil and accumulations of wealth by a small minority: it
-was _already_ an England in which perhaps half of the whole population was
-proletarian, and a medium for exploitation ready to hand.
-
-When any one of the new industries was launched it had to be _capitalised_;
-that is, accumulated wealth from some source or other had to be found which
-would support labour in the process of production until that process should
-be complete. Someone must find the corn and the meat and the housing and
-the clothing by which should be supported, between the extraction of the
-raw material and the moment when the consumption of the finished article
-could begin, the human agents which dealt with that raw material and turned
-it into the finished product. Had property been well distributed, protected
-by co-operative guilds fenced round and supported by custom and by the
-autonomy of great artisan corporations, those accumulations of wealth,
-necessary for the launching of each new method of production and for each
-new perfection of it, would have been discovered in the mass of small
-owners. _Their_ corporations, _their_ little parcels of wealth combined
-would have furnished the _capitalisation_ required for the new processes,
-and men already owners would, as one invention succeeded another, have
-increased the total wealth of the community without disturbing the balance
-of distribution. There is no conceivable link in reason or in experience
-which binds the capitalisation of a new process with the idea of a few
-employing owners and a mass of employed non-owners working at a wage. Such
-great discoveries coming in a society like that of the thirteenth century
-would have blest and enriched mankind. Coming upon the diseased moral
-conditions of the eighteenth century in this country, they proved a curse.
-
-To whom could the new industry turn for capitalisation? The small owner had
-already largely disappeared. The corporate life and mutual obligations
-which had supported him and confirmed him in his property had been broken
-to pieces by no "economic development," but by the deliberate action of the
-rich. He was ignorant because his schools had been taken from him and the
-universities closed to him. He was the more ignorant because the common
-life which once nourished his social sense and the co-operative
-arrangements which had once been his defence had disappeared. When you
-sought an accumulation of corn, of clothing, of housing, of fuel as the
-indispensable preliminary to the launching of your new industry; when you
-looked round for someone who could find the accumulated wealth necessary
-for these considerable experiments, you had to turn to the class which had
-already monopolised the bulk of the means of production in England. The
-rich men alone could furnish you with those supplies.
-
-Nor was this all. The supplies once found and the adventure "capitalised,"
-that form of human energy which lay best to hand, which was indefinitely
-exploitable, weak, ignorant, and desperately necessitous, ready to produce
-for you upon almost any terms, and glad enough if you would only keep it
-alive, was the existing proletariat which the new plutocracy had created
-when, in cornering the wealth of the country after the Reformation, they
-had thrust out the mass of Englishmen from the possession of implements, of
-houses, and of land.
-
-The rich class, adopting some new process of production for its private
-gain, worked it upon those lines of mere competition which its avarice had
-already established. Co-operative tradition was dead. Where would it find
-its cheapest labour? Obviously among the proletariat--not among the
-remaining small owners. What class would increase under the new wealth?
-Obviously the proletariat again, without responsibilities, with nothing to
-leave to its progeny; and as they swelled the capitalist's gain, they
-enabled him with increasing power to buy out the small owner and send him
-to swell by another tributary the proletarian mass.
-
-It was upon this account that the Industrial Revolution, as it is called,
-took in its very origins the form which has made it an almost unmixed curse
-for the unhappy society in which it has flourished. The rich, already
-possessed of the accumulations by which that industrial change could alone
-be nourished, inherited all its succeeding accumulations of implements and
-all its increasing accumulations of subsistence. The factory system,
-starting upon a basis of capitalist and proletariat, grew in the mould
-which had determined its origins. With every new advance the capitalist
-looked for proletariat grist to feed the productive mill. Every
-circumstance of that society, the form in which the laws that governed
-ownership and profit were cast, the obligations of partners, the relations
-bet ween "master" and "man," directly made for the indefinite expansion of
-a subject, formless, wage-earning class controlled by a small body of
-owners, which body would tend to become smaller and richer still, and to be
-possessed of power ever greater and greater as the bad business unfolded.
-
-The spread of economic oligarchy was everywhere, and not in industry alone.
-The great landlords destroyed deliberately and of set purpose and to their
-own ad vantage the common rights over common land. The small plutocracy
-with which they were knit up, and with whose mercantile elements they were
-now fused, directed everything to its own ends. That strong central
-government which should protect the community against the rapacity of a few
-had gone generations before. Capitalism triumphant wielded all the
-mechanism of legislation and of information too. It still holds them; and
-there is not an example of so-called "Social Reform" to-day which is not
-demonstrably (though often subconsciously) directed to the further
-entrenchment and confirmation of an industrial society in which it is taken
-for granted that a few shall own, that the vast majority shall live at a
-wage under them, and that all the bulk of Englishmen may hope for is the
-amelioration of their lot by regulations and by control from above--but not
-by property; not by freedom.
-
-We all feel--and those few of us who have analysed the matter not only feel
-but know--that the Capitalist society thus gradually developed from its
-origins in the capture of the land four hundred years ago has reached its
-term. It is almost self-evident that it cannot continue in the form which
-now three generations have known, and it is equally self-evident that some
-solution must be found for the intolerable and increasing instability with
-which it has poisoned our lives. But before considering the solutions
-variously presented by various schools of thought, I shall in my next
-section show how and why the English Capitalist Industrial System is thus
-intolerably unstable and consequently presents an acute problem which must
-be solved under pain of social death.
-
-* * * * *
-
-It must be noted that modern Industrialism has spread to many other centres
-from England. It bears everywhere the features stamped upon it by its
-origin in this country.
-
-
-
-
-Section Five
-The Capitalist State in Proportion as It Grows Perfect Grows Unstable
-
-
-From the historical digression which I have introduced by way of
-illustrating my subject in the last two sections I now return to the
-general discussion of my thesis and to the logical process by which it may
-be established.
-
-* * * * *
-
-The Capitalist State is unstable, and indeed more properly a transitory
-phase lying between two permanent and stable states of society.
-
-In order to appreciate why this is so, let us recall the definition of the
-Capitalist State:--
-
-"A society in which the ownership of the means of production is confined to
-a body of free citizens, not large enough to make up properly a general
-character of that society, while the rest are dispossessed of the means of
-production, and are therefore proletarian, we call _Capitalist_."
-
-Note the several points of such a state of affairs. You have private
-ownership; but it is not private ownership distributed in many hands and
-thus familiar as an institution to society as a whole. Again, you have the
-great majority dispossessed but at the same time citizens, that is, men
-politically free to act, though economically impotent; again, though it is
-but an inference from our definition, it is a necessary inference that
-there will be under Capitalism a conscious, direct, and planned
-_exploitation_ of the majority, the free citizens who do not own by the
-minority who are owners. For wealth must be produced: the whole of that
-community must live: and the possessors can make such terms with the
-non-possessors as shall make it certain that a portion of what the
-non-possessors have produced shall go to the possessors.
-
-A society thus constituted cannot endure. It cannot endure because it is
-subject to two very severe strains: strains which increase in severity in
-proportion as that society becomes more thoroughly Capitalist. The first of
-these strains arises from the divergence between the moral theories upon
-which the State reposes and the social facts which those moral theories
-attempt to govern. The second strain arises from the insecurity to which
-Capitalism condemns the great mass of society, and the general character of
-anxiety and peril which it imposes upon all citizens, but in particular
-upon the majority, which consists, under Capitalism, of dispossessed free
-men.
-
-Of these two strains it is impossible to say which is the gravest. Either
-would be enough to destroy a social arrangement in which it was long
-present. The two combined make that destruction certain; and there is no
-longer any doubt that Capitalist society must transform itself into some
-other and more stable arrangement. It is the object of these pages to
-discover what that stable arrangement will probably be.
-
-* * * * *
-
-We say that there is a moral strain already intolerably severe and growing
-more severe with every perfection of Capitalism.
-
-This moral strain comes from a contradiction between the realities of
-Capitalist and the moral base of our laws and traditions.
-
-The moral base upon which our laws are still administered and our
-conventions raised presupposes a state composed of free citizens. Our laws
-defend property as a normal institution with which all citizens are
-acquainted, and which all citizens respect. It punishes theft as an
-abnormal incident only occurring when, through evil motives, one free
-citizen acquires the property of another without his knowledge and against
-his will. It punishes fraud as another abnormal incident in which, from
-evil motives, one free citizen induces another to part with his property
-upon false representations. It enforces contract, the sole moral base of
-which is the freedom of the two contracting parties, and the power of
-either, if it so please him, not to enter into a contract which, once
-entered into, must be enforced. It gives to an owner the power to leave his
-property by will, under the conception that such ownership and such passage
-of property (to natural heirs as a rule, but exceptionally to any other
-whom the testator may point out) is the normal operation of a society
-generally familiar with such things, and finding them part of the domestic
-life lived by the mass of its citizens. It casts one citizen in damages if
-by any wilful action he has caused loss to another--for it presupposes him
-able to pay.
-
-The sanction upon which social life reposes is, in our moral theory, the
-legal punishment enforceable in our Courts, and the basis presupposed for
-the security and material happiness of our citizens is the possession of
-goods which shall guarantee us from anxiety and permit us an independence
-of action in the midst of our fellowmen.
-
-Now contrast all this, the moral theory upon which society is still
-perilously conducted, the moral theory to which Capitalism itself turns for
-succour when it is attacked, contrast, I say, its formulae and its
-presuppositions with the social reality of a Capitalist State such as is
-England to-day.
-
-Property remains as an instinct perhaps with most of the citizens; as an
-experience and a reality it is unknown to nineteen out of twenty. One
-hundred forms of fraud, the necessary corollary of unrestrained competition
-between a few and of unrestrained avarice as the motive controlling
-production, are not or cannot be punished: petty forms of violence in theft
-and of cunning in fraud the laws can deal with, but they cannot deal with
-these alone. Our legal machinery has become little more than an engine for
-protecting the few owners against the necessities, the demands, or the
-hatred of the mass of their dispossessed fellow-citizens. The vast bulk of
-so-called "free" contracts are to-day leonine contracts: arrangements which
-one man was free to take or to leave, but which the other man was not free
-to take or to leave, because the second had for his alternative starvation.
-
-Most important of all, the fundamental social fact of our movement, far
-more important than any security afforded by law, or than any machinery
-which the State can put into action, is the fact that livelihood is at the
-will of the possessors. It can be granted by the possessors to the
-non-possessors, or it can be withheld. The real sanction in our society for
-the arrangements by which it is conducted is not punishment enforceable by
-the Courts, but the withholding of _livelihood_ from the dispossessed by
-the possessors. Most men now fear the loss of employment more than they
-fear legal punishment, and the discipline under which men are coerced in
-their modern forms of activity in England is the fear of dismissal. The
-true master of the Englishman to-day is not the Sovereign nor the officers
-of State, nor, save indirectly, the laws; his true master is the
-Capitalist.
-
-Of these main truths everyone is aware; and anyone who sets out to deny
-them does so to-day at the peril of his reputation either for honesty or
-for intelligence.
-
-If it be asked why things have come to a head so late (Capitalism having
-been in growth for so long), the answer is that England, even now the most
-completely Capitalist State of the modern world, did not itself become a
-completely Capitalist State until the present generation. Within the memory
-of men now living half England was agricultural, with relations domestic
-rather than competitive between the various human factors to production.
-
-This moral strain, therefore, arising from the divergence between what our
-laws and moral phrases pretend, and what our society actually is, makes of
-that society an utterly unstable thing.
-
-This spiritual thesis is of far greater gravity than the narrow materialism
-of a generation now passing might imagine. Spiritual conflict is more
-fruitful of instability in the State than conflict of any other kind, and
-there is acute spiritual conflict, conflict in every man's conscience and
-ill-ease throughout the commonwealth when the realities of society are
-divorced from the moral base of its institution.
-
-The second strain which we have noted in Capitalism, its second element of
-instability, consists in the fact that Capitalism destroys security.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Experience is enough to save us any delay upon this main point of our
-matter. But even without experience we could reason with absolute certitude
-from the very nature of Capitalism that its chief effect would be the
-destruction of security in human life.
-
-Combine these two elements: the ownership of the means of production by a
-very few; the political freedom of owners and non-owners alike. There
-follows immediately from that combination a competitive market wherein the
-labour of the non-owner fetches just what it is worth, not as full
-productive power, but as productive power which will leave a surplus to the
-Capitalist. It fetches nothing when the labourer cannot work, more in
-proportion to the pace at which he is driven; less in middle age than in
-youth; less in old age than in middle age; nothing in sickness; nothing in
-despair.
-
-A man in a position to accumulate (the normal result of human labour), a
-man founded upon property in sufficient amount and in established form is
-no more productive in his non-productive moments than is a proletarian; but
-his life is balanced and regulated by his reception of rent and interest as
-well as wages. Surplus values come to him, and are the fly-wheel balancing
-the extremes of his life and carrying him over his bad times. With a
-proletarian it cannot be so. The aspect from Capital looks at a human being
-whose labour it proposes to purchase cuts right across that normal aspect
-of human life from which we all regard our own affections, duties, and
-character. A man thinks of himself, of his chances and of his security
-along the line of his own individual existence from birth to death. Capital
-purchasing his labour (and not the man himself) purchases but a
-cross-section of his life, his moments of activity. For the rest, he must
-fend for himself; but to fend for yourself when you have nothing is to
-starve.
-
-As a matter of fact, where a few possess the means of production perfectly
-free political conditions are impossible. A perfect Capitalist State cannot
-exist, though we have come nearer to it in modern England than other and
-more fortunate nations had thought possible. In the perfect Capitalist
-State there would be no food available for the non-owner save when he was
-actually engaged in Production, and that absurdity would, by quickly ending
-all human lives save those of the owners, put a term to the arrangement. If
-you left men completely free under a Capitalist system, there would be so
-heavy a mortality from starvation as would dry up the sources of labour in
-a very short time.
-
-Imagine the dispossessed to be ideally perfect cowards, the possessors to
-consider nothing whatsoever except the buying of their labour in the
-cheapest market--and the system would break down from the death of children
-and of out-o'-works and of women. You would not have a State in mere
-decline such as ours is. You would have a State manifestly and patently
-perishing.
-
-As a fact, of course, Capitalism cannot proceed to its own logical extreme.
-So long as the political freedom of all citizens is granted the freedom of
-the few possessors of food to grant or withhold it, of the many
-non-possessors to strike any bargain at all, lest they lack it: to exercise
-such freedom fully is to starve the very young, the old, the impotent, and
-the despairing to death. Capitalism must keep alive, by non Capitalist
-methods, great masses of the population who would otherwise starve to
-death; and that is what Capitalism was careful to do to an increasing
-extent as it got a stronger and a stronger grip upon the English people.
-Elizabeth's Poor Law at the beginning of the business, the Poor Law of
-1834, coming at a moment when nearly half England had passed into the grip
-of Capitalism, are original and primitive instances: there are to-day a
-hundred others.
-
-Though this cause of insecurity--the fact that the possessors have no
-direct incentive to keep men alive--is logically the most obvious, and
-always the most enduring under a Capitalist system, there is another cause
-more poignant in its effect upon human life. That other cause is the
-competitive anarchy in production which restricted ownership coupled with
-freedom involves. Consider what is involved by the very process of
-production where the implements and the soil are in the hands of a few
-whose motive for causing the proletariat to produce is not the use of the
-wealth created but the enjoyment by those possessors of surplus value or
-"profit."
-
-* * * * *
-
-If full political freedom be allowed to any two such possessors of
-implements and stores, each will actively watch his market, attempt to
-undersell the other, tend to overproduce at the end of some season of extra
-demand for his article, thus glut the market only to suffer a period of
-depression afterwards--and so forth. Again, the Capitalist, free,
-individual director of production, will miscalculate; sometimes he will
-fail, and his works will be shut down. Again, a mass of isolated,
-imperfectly instructed competing units cannot but direct their clashing
-efforts at an enormous waste, and that waste will fluctuate. Most
-commissions, most advertisements, most parades, are examples of this waste.
-If this waste of effort could be made a constant, the parasitical
-employment it afforded would be a constant too. But of its nature it is a
-most inconstant thing, and the employment it affords is therefore
-necessarily precarious. The concrete translation of this is the insecurity
-of the commercial traveller, the advertising agent, the insurance agent,
-and every form of touting and cozening which competitive Capitalism carries
-with it.
-
-Now here again, as in the case of the insecurity produced by age and
-sickness, Capitalism cannot be pursued to its logical conclusion, and it is
-the element of freedom which suffers. Competition is, as a fact, restricted
-to an increasing extent by an understanding between the competitors,
-accompanied, especially in this country, by the ruin of the smaller
-competitor through secret conspiracies entered into by the larger men, and
-supported by the secret political forces of the State.[3] In a word,
-Capitalism, proving almost as unstable to the owners as to the non-owners,
-is tending towards stability by losing its essential character of political
-freedom. No better proof of the instability of Capitalism as a system could
-be desired.
-
-Take any one of the numerous Trusts which now control English industry, and
-have made of modern England the type, quoted throughout the Continent, of
-artificial monopolies. If the full formula of Capitalism were accepted by
-our Courts and our executive statesmen, anyone could start a rival
-business, undersell those Trusts and shatter the comparative security they
-afford to industry within their field. The reason that no one does this is
-that political freedom is not, as a fact, protected here by the Courts in
-commercial affairs. A man attempting to compete with one of our great
-English Trusts would find himself at once undersold. He might, by all the
-spirit of European law for centuries, indict those who would ruin him,
-citing them for a conspiracy in restraint of trade; of this conspiracy he
-would find the judge and the politicians most heartily in support.
-
-But it must always be remembered that these conspiracies in restraint of
-trade which are the mark of modern England are in themselves a mark of the
-transition from the true Capitalist phase to another.
-
-Under the essential conditions of Capitalism--under a perfect political
-freedom--such conspiracies would be punished by the Courts for what they
-are: to wit, a contravention of the fundamental doctrine of political
-liberty. For this doctrine, while it gives any man the right to make any
-contract he chooses with any labourer and offer the produce at such prices
-as he sees fit, also involves the protection of that liberty by the
-punishment of any conspiracy that may have monopoly for its object. If such
-perfect freedom is no longer attempted, if monopolies are permitted and
-fostered, it is because the unnatural strain to which freedom, coupled with
-restricted ownership, gives rise, the insecurity of its mere competition,
-the anarchy of its productive methods have at last proved intolerable.
-
-I have already delayed more than was necessary in this section upon the
-causes which render a Capitalist State essentially unstable.
-
-I might have treated the matter empirically, taking for granted the
-observation which all my readers must have made, that Capitalism is as a
-fact doomed, and that the Capitalist State has already passed into its
-first phase of transition.
-
-We are clearly no longer possessed of that absolutely political freedom
-which true Capitalism essentially demands. The insecurity involved, coupled
-with the divorce between our traditional morals and the facts of society,
-have already introduced such novel features as the permission of conspiracy
-among both possessors and non-possessors, the compulsory provision of
-security through State action, and all these reforms, implicit or explicit,
-the tendency of which I am about to examine.
-
-
-
-
-Section Six
-The Stable Solutions of This Instability
-
-
-Given a capitalist state, of its nature unstable, it will tend to reach
-stability by some method or another.
-
-It is the definition of unstable equilibrium that a body in unstable
-equilibrium is seeking a stable equilibrium. For instance, a pyramid
-balanced upon its apex is in unstable equilibrium; which simply means that
-a slight force one way or the other will make it fall into a position where
-it will repose. Similarly, certain chemical mixtures are said to be in
-unstable equilibrium when their constituent parts have such affinity one
-for another that a slight shock may make them combine and transform the
-chemical arrangement of the whole. Of this sort are explosives.
-
-If the Capitalist State is in unstable equilibrium, this only means that it
-is seeking a stable equilibrium, and that Capitalism cannot but be
-transformed into some other arrangement wherein Society may repose.
-
-There are but three social arrangements which can replace Capitalism:
-Slavery, Socialism, and Property.
-
-I may imagine a mixture of any two of these three or of all the three, but
-each is a dominant type, and from the very nature of the problem no fourth
-arrangement can be devised.
-
-The problem turns, remember, upon the control of the means of production.
-Capitalism means that this control is vested in the hands of few, while
-political freedom is the appanage of all. If this anomaly cannot endure,
-from its insecurity and from its own contradiction with its presumed moral
-basis, you must either have a transformation of the one or of the other of
-the two elements which combined have been found unworkable. These two
-factors are (1) The ownership of the means of Production by a few; (2) The
-Freedom of all. To solve Capitalism you must get rid of restricted
-ownership, or of freedom, or of both. Now there is only one alternative to
-freedom, which is the negation of it. Either a man is free to work and not
-to work as he pleases, or he may be liable to a legal compulsion to work,
-backed by the forces of the State. In the first he is a free man; in the
-second he is by definition a slave. We have, therefore, so far as this
-factor of freedom is concerned, no choice between a number of changes, but
-only the opportunity of one, to wit, the establishment of slavery in place
-of freedom. Such a solution, the direct, immediate, and conscious
-re-establishment of slavery, would provide a true solution of the problems
-which Capitalism offers. It would guarantee, under workable regulations,
-sufficiency and security for the dispossessed. Such a solution, as I shall
-show, is the probable goal which our society will in fact approach. To its
-immediate and conscious acceptance, however, there is an obstacle.
-
-A direct and conscious establishment of slavery as a solution to the
-problem of Capitalism, the surviving Christian tradition of our
-civilisation compels men to reject. No reformer will advocate it; no
-prophet dares take it as yet for granted. All theories of a reformed
-society will therefore attempt, at first, to leave untouched the factor of
-_Freedom_ among the elements which make up Capitalism, and will concern
-themselves with some change in the factor of _Property_.[4]
-
-Now, in attempting to remedy the evils of Capitalism by remedying that one
-of its two factors which consists in an ill distribution of property, you
-have two, and only two, courses open to you.
-
-If you are suffering because property is restricted to a few, you can alter
-that factor in the problem _either_ by putting property into the hands of
-many, or by putting it into the hands of none. There is no third course.
-
-In the concrete, to put property in the hands of "none" means to vest it as
-a trust in the hands of political officers. If you say that the evils
-proceeding from Capitalism are due to the institution of property itself,
-and not to the dispossession of the many by the few, then you must forbid
-the private possession of the means of production by any particular and
-private part of the community: but someone must control the means of
-production, or we should have nothing to eat. So in practice this doctrine
-means the management of the means of production by those who are the public
-officers of the community. Whether these public officers are themselves
-controlled by the community or no has nothing to do with this solution on
-its economic side. The essential point to grasp is that the only
-alternative to private property is public property. Somebody must see to
-the ploughing and must control the ploughs; otherwise no ploughing will be
-done.
-
-It is equally obvious that if you conclude property in itself to be no evil
-but only the small number of its owners, then your remedy is to increase
-the number of those owners.
-
-So much being grasped, we may recapitulate and say that a society like
-ours, disliking the name of "slavery," and avoiding a direct and conscious
-re-establishment of the slave status, will necessarily contemplate the
-reform of its ill-distributed ownership on one of two models. The first is
-the negation of private property and the establishment of what is called
-Collectivism: that is, the management of the means of production by the
-political officers of the community. The second is the wider distribution
-of property until that institution shall become the mark of the whole
-State, and until free citizens are normally found to be possessors of
-capital or land, or both.
-
-The first model we call _Socialism_ or the Collectivist State; the second
-we call the Proprietary or Distributive State.
-
-With so much elucidated, I will proceed to show in my next section why the
-second model, involving the redistribution of property, is rejected as
-impracticable by our existing Capitalist Society, and why, therefore, the
-model chosen by reformers is the first model, that of a Collectivist State.
-
-I shall then proceed to show that at its first inception all Collectivist
-Reform is necessarily deflected and evolves, in the place of what it had
-intended, a new thing: a society wherein the owners remain few and wherein
-the proletarian mass accepts security at the expense of servitude.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Have I made myself clear?
-
-If not, I will repeat for the third time, and in its briefest terms, the
-formula which is the kernel of my whole thesis.
-
-The Capitalist State breeds a Collectivist Theory which _in action_
-produces something utterly different from Collectivism: to wit, the
-/Servile State/.
-
-
-
-
-Section Seven
-Socialism Is the Easiest Apparent Solution of the Capitalist Crux
-
-
-I say that the line of least resistance, if it be followed, leads a
-Capitalist State to transform itself into a Servile State.
-
-I propose to show that this comes about from the fact that not a
-_Distributive_ but a _Collectivist_ solution is the easiest for a
-Capitalist State to aim at, and that yet, in the very act of attempting
-_Collectivism_, what results is not Collectivism at all, but the servitude
-of the many, and the confirmation in their present privilege of the few;
-that is, the Servile State.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Men to whom the institution of slavery is abhorrent propose for the remedy
-of Capitalism one of two reforms.
-
-Either they would put property into the hands of most citizens, so dividing
-land and capital that a determining number of families in the State were
-possessed of the means of production; or they would put those means of
-production into the hands of the political officers of the community, to be
-held in trust for the advantage of all.
-
-The first solution may be called the attempted establishment of the
-/Distributive State/. The second may be called the attempted establishment
-of the /Collectivist State/.
-
-Those who favour the first course are the Conservatives or Traditionalists.
-They are men who respect and would, if possible, preserve the old forms of
-Christian European life. They know that property was thus distributed
-throughout the State during the happiest periods of our past history; they
-also know that where it is properly distributed to-day, you have greater
-social sanity and ease than elsewhere. In general, those who would
-re-establish, if possible, the Distributive State in the place of, and as a
-remedy for, the vices and unrest of Capitalism, are men concerned with
-known realities, and having for their ideal a condition of society which
-experience has tested and proved both stable and good. They are then, of
-the two schools of reformers, the more _practical_ in the sense that they
-deal more than do the Collectivists (called also Socialists) with things
-which either are or have been in actual existence. But they are less
-practical in another sense (as we shall see in a moment) from the fact that
-the stage of the disease with which they are dealing does not readily lend
-itself to such a reaction as they propose.
-
-The Collectivist, on the other hand, proposes to put land and capital into
-the hands of the political officers of the community, and this on the
-understanding that they shall hold such land and capital in trust for the
-advantage of the community. In making this proposal he is evidently dealing
-with a state of things hitherto imaginary, and his ideal is not one that
-has been tested by experience, nor one of which our race and history can
-furnish instances. In this sense, therefore, he is the _less_ practical of
-the two reformers. His ideal cannot be discovered in any past, known, and
-recorded phase of our society. We cannot examine Socialism in actual
-working, nor can we say (as we can say of well-divided property): "On such
-and such an occasion, in such and such a period of European history,
-Collectivism was established and produced both stability and happiness in
-society."
-
-In this sense, therefore, the Collectivist is far less practical than the
-reformer who desires well-distributed property.
-
-On the other hand, there is a sense in which this Socialist is more
-practical than that other type of reformer, from the fact that the stage of
-the disease into which we have fallen apparently admits of his remedy with
-less shock than it admits of a reaction towards well-divided property.
-
-For example: the operation of buying out some great tract of private
-ownership to-day (as a railway or a harbour company) with public funds,
-continuing its administration by publicly paid officials and converting its
-revenue to public use, is a thing with which we are familiar and which
-seemingly might be indefinitely multiplied. Individual examples of such
-transformation of waterworks, gas, tramways, from a Capitalist to a
-Collectivist basis are common, and the change does not disturb any
-fundamental thing in our society. When a private Water company or Tramway
-line is bought by some town and worked thereafter in the interests of the
-public, the transaction is effected without any perceptible friction,
-disturbs the life of no private citizen, and seems in every way normal to
-the society in which it takes place.
-
-Upon the contrary, the attempt to create a large number of shareholders in
-such enterprises and artificially to substitute many partners, distributed
-throughout a great number of the population, in the place of the original
-few capitalist owners, would prove lengthy and at every step would arouse
-opposition, would create disturbance, would work at an expense of great
-friction, and would be imperilled by the power of the new and many owners
-to sell again to a few.
-
-In a word, the man who desires to re-establish property as an institution
-normal to most citizens in the State is _working against the grain_ of our
-existing Capitalist society, while a man who desires to establish
-Socialism--that is Collectivism--is working _with_ the grain of that
-society. The first is like a physician who should say to a man whose limbs
-were partially atrophied from disuse: "Do this and that, take such and such
-exercise, and you will recover the use of your limbs." The second is like a
-physician who should say: "You cannot go on as you are. Your limbs are
-atrophied from lack of use. Your attempt to conduct yourself as though they
-were not is useless and painful; you had better make up your mind to be
-wheeled about in a fashion consonant to your disease." The Physician is the
-Reformer, his Patient the Proletariat.
-
-It is not the purpose of this book to show how and under what difficulties
-a condition of well-divided property might be restored and might take the
-place (even in England) of that Capitalism which is now no longer either
-stable or tolerable; but for the purposes of contrast and to emphasise my
-argument I will proceed, before showing how the Collectivist unconsciously
-makes for the Servile State, to show what difficulties surround the
-Distributive solution and why, therefore, the Collectivist solution appeals
-so much more readily to men living under Capitalism.
-
-* * * * *
-
-If I desire to substitute a number of small owners for a few large ones in
-some particular enterprise, how shall I set to work?
-
-I might boldly confiscate and redistribute at a blow. But by what process
-should I choose the new owners? Even supposing that there was some
-machinery whereby the justice of the new distribution could be assured, how
-could I avoid the enormous and innumerable separate acts of injustice that
-would attach to general redistributions? To say "none shall own" and to
-confiscate is one thing; to say "all should own" and apportion ownership is
-another. Action of this kind would so disturb the whole network of economic
-relations as to bring ruin at once to the whole body politic, and
-particularly to the smaller interests indirectly affected. In a society
-such as ours a catastrophe falling upon the State from outside might
-indirectly do good by making such a redistribution possible. But no one
-working from within the State could provoke that catastrophe without
-ruining his own cause.
-
-If, then, I proceed more slowly and more rationally and canalise the
-economic life of society so that small property shall gradually be built up
-within it, see against what forces of inertia and custom I have to work
-to-day in a Capitalist society!
-
-If I desire to benefit small savings at the expense of large, I must
-reverse the whole economy under which interest is paid upon deposits
-to-day. It is far easier to save £100 out of a revenue of £1,000 than to
-save £10 out of a revenue of £100. It is infinitely easier to save £10 out
-of a revenue of £100 than £5 out of a revenue of £50. To build up small
-property through thrift when once the Mass have fallen into the proletarian
-trough is impossible unless you deliberately subsidise small savings,
-offering them a reward which, in competition, they could never obtain; and
-to do this the whole vast arrangement of credit must be worked backwards.
-Or, let the policy be pursued of penalising undertakings with few owners,
-of heavily taxing large blocks of shares and of subsidising with the
-produce small holders in proportion to the smallness of their holding. Here
-again you are met with the difficulty of a vast majority who cannot even
-bid for the smallest share.
-
-One might multiply instances of the sort indefinitely, but the strongest
-force against the distribution of ownership in a society already permeated
-with Capitalist modes of thought is still the moral one: Will men want to
-own? Will officials, administrators, and lawmakers be able to shake off the
-power which under Capitalism seems normal to the rich? If I approach, for
-instance, the works of one of our great Trusts, purchase it with public
-money, bestow, even as a gift, the shares thereof to its workmen, can I
-count upon any tradition of property in their midst which will prevent
-their squandering the new wealth? Can I discover any relics of the
-co-operative instinct among such men? Could I get managers and organisers
-to take a group of poor men seriously or to serve them as they would serve
-rich men? Is not the whole psychology of a Capitalist society divided
-between the proletarian mass which thinks in terms not of property but of
-"employment," and the few owners who are alone familiar with the machinery
-of administration?
-
-I have touched but very briefly and superficially upon this matter, because
-it needs no elaboration. Though it is evident that with a sufficient will
-and a sufficient social vitality property could be restored, it is evident
-that all efforts to restore it have in a Capitalist society such as our own
-a note of oddity, of doubtful experiment, of being uncoordinated with other
-social things around them, which marks the heavy handicap under which any
-such attempt must proceed. It is like recommending elasticity to the aged.
-
-On the other hand, the Collectivist experiment is thoroughly suited (in
-appearance at least) to the Capitalist society which it proposes to
-replace. It works with the existing machinery of Capitalism, talks and
-thinks in the existing terms of Capitalism, appeals to just those appetites
-which Capitalism has aroused, and ridicules as fantastic and unheard-of
-just those things in society the memory of which Capitalism has killed
-among men wherever the blight of it has spread.
-
-So true is all this that the stupider kind of Collectivist will often talk
-of a "Capitalist phase" of society as the necessary precedent to a
-"Collectivist phase." A trust or monopoly is welcomed because it "furnishes
-a mode of transition from private to public ownership." Collectivism
-promises employment to the great mass who think of production only in terms
-of employment. It promises to its workmen the security which a great and
-well-organised industrial Capitalist unit (like one of our railways) can
-give through a system of pensions, regular promotion, etc., but that
-security vastly increased through the fact that it is the State and not a
-mere unit of the State which guarantees it. Collectivism would administer,
-would pay wages, would promote, would pension off, would fine--and all the
-rest of it--exactly as the Capitalist State does to-day. The proletarian,
-when the Collectivist (or Socialist) State is put before him, perceives
-nothing in the picture save certain ameliorations of his present position.
-Who can imagine that if, say, two of our great industries, Coal and
-Railways, were handed over to the State tomorrow, the armies of men
-organised therein would find any change in the character of their lives,
-save in some increase of security and possibly in a very slight increase of
-earnings?
-
-The whole scheme of Collectivism presents, so far as the proletarian mass
-of a Capitalist State is concerned, nothing unknown at all, but a promise
-of some increment in wages and a certainty of far greater ease of mind.
-
-To that small minority of a Capitalist society which owns the means of
-production, Collectivism will of course appear as an enemy, but, even so,
-it is an enemy which they understand and an enemy with whom they can treat
-in terms common both to that enemy and to themselves. If, for instance, the
-State proposes to take over such and such a trust now paying 4 per cent.
-and believes that under State management it will make the trust pay 5 per
-cent. then the transference takes the form of a business proposition: the
-State is no harder to the Capitalists taken over than was Mr Yerkes to the
-Underground. Again, the State, having greater credit and longevity, can (it
-would seem)[5] "buy out" any existing Capitalist body upon favourable
-terms. Again, the discipline by which the State would enforce its rules
-upon the proletariat it employed would be the same rules as those by which
-the Capitalist imposes discipline in his own interests to-day.
-
-There is in the whole scheme which proposes to transform the Capitalist
-into the Collectivist State no element of reaction, the use of no term with
-which a Capitalist society is not familiar, the appeal to no instinct,
-whether of cowardice, greed, apathy, or mechanical regulation, with which a
-Capitalist community is not amply familiar.
-
-In general, if modern Capitalist England were made by magic a State of
-small owners, we should all suffer an enormous revolution. We should marvel
-at the insolence of the poor, at the laziness of the contented, at the
-strange diversities of task, at the rebellious, vigorous personalities
-discernible upon every side. But if this modern Capitalist England could,
-by a process sufficiently slow to allow for the readjustment of individual
-interests, be transformed into a Collectivist State, the apparent change at
-the end of that transition would not be conspicuous to the most of us, and
-the transition itself should have met with no shocks that theory can
-discover. The insecure and hopeless margin below the regularly paid ranks
-of labour would have disappeared into isolated workplaces of a penal kind:
-we should hardly miss them. Many incomes now involving considerable duties
-to the State would have been replaced by incomes as large or larger,
-involving much the same duties and bearing only the newer name of salaries.
-The small shop-keeping class would find itself in part absorbed under
-public schemes at a salary, in part engaged in the old work of distribution
-at secure incomes; and such small owners as are left, of boats, of farms,
-even of machinery, would perhaps know the new state of things into which
-they had survived through nothing more novel than some increase in the
-irritating system of inspection and of onerous petty taxation: they are
-already fairly used to both.
-
-This picture of the natural transition from Capitalism to Collectivism
-seems so obvious that many Collectivists in a generation immediately past
-believed that nothing stood between them and the realisation of their ideal
-save the unintelligence of mankind. They had only to argue and expound
-patiently and systematically for the great transformation to become
-possible. They had only to continue arguing and expounding for it at last
-to be realised.
-
-I say, "of the last generation." To-day that simple and superficial
-judgment is getting woefully disturbed. The most sincere and single-minded
-of Collectivists cannot but note that the practical effect of their
-propaganda is not an approach towards the Collectivist State at all, but
-towards something very different. It is becoming more and more evident that
-with every new reform--and those reforms commonly promoted by particular
-Socialists, and in a puzzled way blessed by Socialists in general--another
-state emerges more and more clearly. It is becoming increasingly certain
-that the attempted transformation of Capitalism into Collectivism is
-resulting not in Collectivism at all, but in some third thing which the
-Collectivist never dreamt of, or the Capitalist either; and that third
-thing is the /Servile/ State: a State, that is, in which the mass of men
-shall be constrained _by law_ to labour to the profit of a minority, but,
-as the price of such constraint, shall enjoy a security which the old
-Capitalism did not give them.
-
-Why is the apparently simple and direct action of Collectivist reform
-diverted into so unexpected a channel? And in what new laws and
-institutions does modern England in particular and industrial society in
-general show that this new form of the State is upon us?
-
-To these two questions I will attempt an answer in the two concluding
-divisions of this book.
-
-
-
-
-Section Eight
-The Reformers and Reformed Are Alike Making for the Servile State
-
-
-I propose in this section to show how the three interests which between
-them account for nearly the whole of the forces making for social change in
-modern England are all necessarily drifting towards the Servile State.
-
-Of these three interests the first two represent the Reformers--the third
-the people to be Reformed.
-
-These three interests are, first, the _Socialist_, who is the theoretical
-reformer working along the line of least resistance; secondly, the
-"_Practical Man_" who as a "practical" reformer depends on his shortness of
-sight, and is therefore to-day a powerful factor; while the third is that
-great proletarian mass for whom the change is being effected, and on whom
-it is being imposed. What _they_ are most likely to accept, the way in
-which they will react upon new institutions is the most important factor of
-all, for _they_ are the material with and upon which the work is being
-done.
-
-* * * * *
-
-(1) Of the _Socialist_ Reformer:
-
-I say that men attempting to achieve Collectivism or Socialism as the
-remedy for the evils of the Capitalist State find themselves drifting not
-towards a Collectivist State at all, but towards a Servile State.
-
-The Socialist movement, the first of the three factors in this drift, is
-itself made up of two kinds of men: there is (_a_) the man who regards the
-public ownership of the means of production (and the consequent compulsion
-of all citizens to work under the direction of the State) as the only
-feasible solution of our modern social ills. There is also (_b_) the man
-who loves the Collectivist ideal in itself, who does not pursue it so much
-because it is a solution of modern Capitalism, as because it is an ordered
-and regular form of society which appeals to him in itself. He loves to
-consider the ideal of a State in which land and capital shall be held by
-public officials who shall order other men about and so preserve them from
-the consequences of _their_ vice, ignorance, and folly.
-
-These types are perfectly distinct, in many respects antagonistic, and
-between them they cover the whole Socialist movement.
-
-Now imagine either of these men at issue with the existing state of
-Capitalist society and attempting to transform it. Along what line of least
-resistance will either be led?
-
-* * * * *
-
-(_a_) The first type will begin by demanding the confiscation of the means
-of production from the hands of their present owners, and the vesting of
-them in the State. But wait a moment. That demand is an exceedingly hard
-thing to accomplish. The present owners have between them and confiscation
-a stony moral barrier. It is what _most_ men would call the moral basis of
-property (the instinct that property is a _right_), and what _all_ men
-would admit to be at least a deeply rooted tradition. Again, they have
-behind them the innumerable complexities of modern ownership.
-
-To take a very simple case. Decree that all common lands enclosed since so
-late a date as 1760 shall revert to the public. There you have a very
-moderate case and a very defensible one. But conceive for a moment how many
-small freeholds, what a nexus of obligation and benefit spread over
-millions, what thousands of exchanges, what purchases made upon the
-difficult savings of small men such a measure would wreck! It is
-conceivable, for, in the moral sphere, society can do anything to society;
-but it would bring crashing down with it twenty times the wealth involved
-and all the secure credit of our community. In a word, the thing is, in the
-conversational use of that term, impossible. So your best type of Socialist
-reformer is led to an expedient which I will here only mention--as it must
-be separately considered at length later on account of its fundamental
-importance--the expedient of "_buying out_" the present owner.
-
-It is enough to say in this place that the attempt to "buy out" without
-confiscation is based upon an economic error. This I shall prove in its
-proper place. For the moment I assume it and pass on to the rest of my
-reformer's action.
-
-He does not confiscate, then; at the most he "buys out" (or attempts to
-"buy out") certain sections of the means of production.
-
-But this action by no means covers the whole of his motive. By definition
-the man is out to cure what he sees to be the great immediate evils of
-Capitalist society. He is out to cure the destitution which it causes in
-great multitudes and the harrowing insecurity which it imposes upon all. He
-is out to substitute for Capitalist society a society in which men shall
-all be fed, clothed, housed, and in which men shall not live in a perpetual
-jeopardy of their housing, clothing, and food.
-
-Well, there is a way of achieving that without confiscation.
-
-This reformer rightly thinks that the ownership of the means of production
-by a few has caused the evils which arouse his indignation and pity. But
-they have only been so caused on account of a combination of such limited
-ownership with universal freedom. The combination of the two is the very
-definition of the Capitalist State. It is difficult indeed to dispossess
-the possessors. It is by no means so difficult (as we shall see again when
-we are dealing with the mass whom these changes will principally affect) to
-modify the factor of freedom.
-
-You can say to the Capitalist: "I desire to dispossess you, and meanwhile I
-am determined that your employees shall live tolerable lives." The
-Capitalist replies: "I refuse to be dispossessed, and it is, short of
-catastrophe, impossible to dispossess me. But if you will define the
-relation between my employees and myself, I will undertake particular
-responsibilities due to my position. Subject the proletarian, as a
-proletarian, and because he is a proletarian, to special laws. Clothe me,
-the Capitalist, as a Capitalist, and because I am a Capitalist, with
-special converse duties under those laws. I will faithfully see that they
-are obeyed; I will compel my employees to obey them, and I will undertake
-the new role imposed upon me by the State. Nay, I will go further, and I
-will say that such a novel arrangement will make my own profits perhaps
-larger and certainly more secure."
-
-This idealist social reformer, therefore, finds the current of his demand
-canalised. As to one part of it, confiscation, it is checked and barred; as
-to the other, securing human conditions for the proletariat, the gates are
-open. Half the river is dammed by a strong weir, but there is a sluice, and
-that sluice can be lifted. Once lifted, the whole force of the current will
-run through the opportunity so afforded it; there will it scour and deepen
-its channel; there will the main stream learn to run.
-
-To drop the metaphor, all those things in the true Socialist's demand which
-are compatible with the Servile State can certainly be achieved. The first
-steps towards them are already achieved. They are of such a nature that
-upon them can be based a further advance in the same direction, and the
-whole Capitalist State can be rapidly and easily transformed into the
-Servile State, satisfying in its transformation the more immediate claims
-and the more urgent demands of the social reformer whose ultimate objective
-indeed may be the public ownership of capital and land, but whose driving
-power is a burning pity for the poverty and peril of the masses.
-
-When the transformation is complete there will be no ground left, nor any
-demand or necessity, for public ownership. The reformer only asked for it
-in order to secure security and sufficiency: he has obtained his demand.
-
-Here are security and sufficiency achieved by another and much easier
-method, consonant with and proceeding from the Capitalist phase immediately
-preceding it: there is no need to go further.
-
-In this way the Socialist whose motive is human good and not mere
-organisation is being shepherded in spite of himself _away_ from his
-Collectivist ideal and _towards_ a society in which the possessors shall
-remain possessed, the dispossessed shall remain dispossessed, in which the
-mass of men shall still work for the advantage of a few, and in which those
-few shall still enjoy the surplus values produced by labour, but in which
-the special evils of insecurity and insufficiency, in the main the product
-of freedom, have been eliminated by the destruction of freedom.
-
-At the end of the process you will have two kinds of men, the owners
-economically free, and controlling to their peace and to the guarantee of
-their livelihood the economically unfree non-owners. But that is the
-Servile State.
-
-* * * * *
-
-(_b_) The second type of socialist reformer may be dealt with more briefly.
-In him the exploitation of man by man excites no indignation. Indeed, he is
-not of a type to which indignation or any other lively passion is familiar.
-Tables, statistics, an exact framework for life--these afford him the food
-that satisfies his moral appetite; the occupation most congenial to him is
-the "running" of men: as a machine is run.
-
-To such a man the Collectivist ideal particularly appeals.
-
-It is orderly in the extreme. All that human and organic complexity which
-is the colour of any vital society offends him by its infinite
-differentiation. He is disturbed by multitudinous things; and the prospect
-of a vast bureaucracy wherein the whole of life shall be scheduled and
-appointed to certain simple schemes deriving from the coordinate work of
-public clerks and marshalled by powerful heads of departments gives his
-small stomach a final satisfaction.
-
-Now this man, like the other, would prefer to begin with public property in
-capital and land, and upon that basis to erect the formal scheme which so
-suits his peculiar temperament. (It need hardly be said that in his vision
-of a future society he conceives of himself as the head of at least a
-department and possibly of the whole State--but that is by the way.) But
-while he would prefer to begin with a Collectivist scheme ready-made, he
-finds in practice that he cannot do so. He would have to confiscate just as
-the more hearty Socialist would; and if that act is very difficult to the
-man burning at the sight of human wrongs, how much more difficult is it to
-a man impelled by no such motive force and directed by nothing more intense
-than a mechanical appetite for regulation?
-
-He cannot confiscate or begin to confiscate. At the best he will "buy out"
-the Capitalist.
-
-Now, in his case, as in the case of the more human Socialist, "buying out"
-is, as I shall show in its proper place, a system impossible of general
-application.
-
-But all those other things for which such a man cares much more than he
-does for the socialisation of the means of production--tabulation, detailed
-administration of men, the co-ordination of many efforts under one
-schedule, the elimination of all private power to react against his
-Department, all these are immediately obtainable without disturbing the
-existing arrangement of society. With him, precisely as with the other
-socialist, what he desires can be reached without any dispossession of the
-few existing possessors. He has but to secure the registration of the
-proletariat; next to ensure that neither they in the exercise of their
-freedom, nor the employer in the exercise of his, can produce insufficiency
-or insecurity--and he is content. Let laws exist which make the proper
-housing, feeding, clothing, and recreation of the proletarian mass be
-incumbent upon the possessing class, and the observance of such rules be
-imposed, by inspection and punishment, upon those whom he pretends to
-benefit, and all that he really cares for will be achieved.
-
-To such a man the Servile State is hardly a thing towards which he drifts,
-it is rather a tolerable alternative to his ideal Collectivist State, which
-alternative he is quite prepared to accept and regards favourably. Already
-the greater part of such reformers who, a generation ago, would have called
-themselves "Socialists" are now less concerned with any scheme for
-socialising Capital and Land than with innumerable schemes actually
-existing, some of them possessing already the force of laws, for
-regulating, "running," and drilling the proletariat without trenching by an
-inch upon the privilege in implements, stores, and land enjoyed by the
-small Capitalist class.
-
-The so-called "Socialist" of this type has not fallen into the Servile
-State by a miscalculation. He has fathered it; he welcomes its birth, he
-foresees his power over its future.
-
-So much for the Socialist movement, which a generation ago proposed to
-transform our Capitalist society into one where the community should be the
-universal owner and all men equally economically free or unfree under its
-tutelage. To-day their ideal has failed, and of the two sources whence
-their energy proceeded, the one is reluctantly, the other gladly,
-acquiescent in the advent of a society which is not Socialist at all but
-Servile.
-
-* * * * *
-
-(2) Of the _Practical_ Reformer:
-
-There is another type of Reformer, one who prides himself on _not_ being a
-socialist, and one of the greatest weight to-day. He also is making for the
-Servile State. This second factor in the change is the "Practical Man"; and
-this fool, on account of his great numbers and determining influence in the
-details of legislation, must be carefully examined.
-
-It is your "Practical Man" who says: "Whatever you theorists and
-doctrinaires may hold with regard to this proposal (which I support),
-though it may offend some abstract dogma of yours, yet _in practice_ you
-must admit that it does good. If you had _practical_ experience of the
-misery of the Jones' family, or had done _practical_ work yourself in
-Pudsey, you would have seen that a _practical_ man," etc.
-
-It is not difficult to discern that the Practical Man in social reform is
-exactly the same animal as the Practical Man in every other department of
-human energy, and may be discovered suffering from the same twin
-disabilities which stamp the Practical Man where-ever found: these twin
-disabilities are an inability to define his own first principles and an
-inability to follow the consequences proceeding from his own action. Both
-these disabilities proceed from one simple and deplorable form of
-impotence, the inability to think.
-
-Let us help the Practical Man in his weakness and do a little thinking for
-him.
-
-As a social reformer he has of course (though he does not know it) first
-principles and dogmas like all the rest of us, and _his_ first principles
-and dogmas are exactly the same as those which his intellectual superiors
-hold in the matter of social reform. The two things intolerable to him as a
-decent citizen (though a very stupid human being) are _insufficiency_ and
-_insecurity_. When he was "working" in the slums of Pudsey or raiding the
-proletarian Jones's from the secure base of Toynbee Hall, what shocked the
-worthy man most was "unemployment" and "destitution": that is, insecurity
-and insufficiency in flesh and blood.
-
-Now, if the Socialist who has thought out his case, whether as a mere
-organiser or as a man hungering and thirsting after justice, is led away
-from Socialism and towards the Servile State by the force of modern things
-in England, how much more easily do you not think the "Practical Man" will
-be conducted towards that same Servile State, like any donkey to his
-grazing ground? To those dull and shortsighted eyes the immediate solution
-which even the beginnings of the Servile State propose are what a declivity
-is to a piece of brainless matter. The piece of brainless matter rolls down
-the declivity, and the Practical Man lollops from Capitalism to the Servile
-State with the same inevitable ease. Jones has not got enough. If you give
-him something in charity, that something will be soon consumed, and then
-Jones will again not have enough. Jones has been seven weeks out of work.
-If you get him work "under our unorganised and wasteful system, etc.," he
-may lose it just as he lost his first jobs. The slums of Pudsey, as the
-Practical Man knows by Practical experience, are often unemployable. Then
-there are "the ravages of drink": more fatal still the dreadful habit
-mankind has of forming families and breeding children. The worthy fellow
-notes that "as a practical matter of fact such men do not work unless you
-make them."
-
-He does not, because he cannot, coordinate all these things. He knows
-nothing of a society in which free men were once owners, nor of the
-co-operative and instinctive institutions for the protection of ownership
-which such a society spontaneously breeds. He "takes the world as he finds
-it"--and the consequence is that whereas men of greater capacity may admit
-with different degrees of reluctance the general principles of the Servile
-State, _he_, the Practical Man, positively gloats on every new detail in
-the building up of that form of society. And the destruction of freedom by
-inches (though he does not see it to be the destruction of freedom) is the
-one panacea so obvious that he marvels at the doctrinaires who resist or
-suspect the process.
-
-It has been necessary to waste so much time on this deplorable individual
-because the circumstances of our generation give him a peculiar power.
-Under the conditions of modern exchange a man of that sort enjoys great
-advantages. He is to be found as he never was in any other society before
-our own, possessed of wealth, and political as never was any such citizen
-until our time. Of history with all its lessons; of the great schemes of
-philosophy and religion, of human nature itself he is blank.
-
-The Practical Man left to himself would not produce the Servile State. He
-would not produce anything but a welter of anarchic restrictions which
-would lead at last to some kind of revolt.
-
-Unfortunately, he is not left to himself. He is but the ally or flanking
-party of great forces which he does nothing to oppose, and of particular
-men, able and prepared for the work of general change, who use him with
-gratitude and contempt. Were he not so numerous in modern England, and,
-under the extraordinary conditions of a Capitalist State, so economically
-powerful, I would have neglected him in this analysis. As it is, we may
-console ourselves by remembering that the advent of the Servile State, with
-its powerful organisation and necessity for lucid thought in those who
-govern, will certainly eliminate him.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Our reformers, then, both those who think and those who do not, both those
-who are conscious of the process and those who are unconscious of it, are
-making directly for the Servile State.
-
-* * * * *
-
-(3) What of the third factor? What of the people about to be reformed? What
-of the millions upon whose carcasses the reformers are at work, and who are
-the subject of the great experiment? Do they tend, as material, to accept
-or to reject that transformation from free proletarianism to servitude
-which is the argument of this book?
-
-The question is an important one to decide, for upon whether the material
-is suitable or unsuitable for the work to which it is subjected, depends
-the success of every experiment making for the Servile State.
-
-The mass of men in the Capitalist State is proletarian. As a matter of
-definition, the actual number of the proletariat and the proportion that
-number bears to the total number of families in the State may vary, but
-must be sufficient to determine the general character of the State before
-we can call that State _Capitalist_.
-
-But, as we have seen, the Capitalist State is not a stable, and therefore
-not a permanent, condition of society. It has proved ephemeral; and upon
-that very account the proletariat in any Capitalist State retains to a
-greater or less degree some memories of a state of society in which its
-ancestors were possessors of property and economically free.
-
-The strength of this memory or tradition is the first element we have to
-bear in mind in our problem, when we examine how far a particular
-proletariat, such as the English proletariat to-day, is ready to accept the
-Servile State, which would condemn it to a perpetual loss of property and
-of all the free habit which property engenders.
-
-Next be it noted that under conditions of freedom the Capitalist class may
-be entered by the more cunning or the more fortunate of the proletariat
-class. Recruitment of the kind was originally sufficiently common in the
-first development of Capitalism to be a standing feature in society and to
-impress the imagination of the general. Such recruitment is still possible.
-The proportion which it bears to the whole proletariat, the chance which
-each member of the proletariat may think he has of escaping from his
-proletarian condition in a particular phase of Capitalism such as is ours
-to-day, is the second factor in the problem.
-
-The third factor, and by far the greatest of all, is the appetite of the
-dispossessed for that security and sufficiency of which Capitalism, with
-its essential condition of freedom, has deprived them.
-
-Now let us consider the interplay of these three factors in the English
-proletariat as we actually know it at this moment. That proletariat is
-certainly the great mass of the State: it covers about nineteen-twentieths
-of the population--if we exclude Ireland, where, as I shall point out in my
-concluding pages, the reaction against Capitalism, and therefore against
-its development towards a Servile State, is already successful.
-
-* * * * *
-
-As to the first factor, it has changed very rapidly within the memory of
-men now living. The traditional rights of property are still strong in the
-minds of the English poor. All the moral connotations of that right are
-familiar to them. They are familiar with the conception of theft as a
-wrong; they are tenacious of any scraps of property which they may acquire.
-They could all explain what is meant by ownership, by legacy, by exchange,
-and by gift, and even by contract. There is not one but could put himself
-in the position, mentally, of an owner.
-
-But the actual experience of ownership, and the effect which that
-experience has upon character and upon one's view of the State is a very
-different matter. Within the memory of people still living a sufficient
-number of Englishmen were owning (as small freeholders, small masters,
-etc.) to give to the institution of property coupled with freedom a very
-vivid effect upon the popular mind. More than this, there was a living
-tradition proceeding from the lips of men who could still bear living
-testimony to the relics of a better state of things. I have myself spoken,
-when I was a boy, to old labourers in the neighbourhood of Oxford who had
-risked their skins in armed protest against the enclosure of certain
-commons, and who had of course suffered imprisonment by a wealthy judge as
-the reward of their courage; and I have myself spoken in Lancashire to old
-men who could retrace for me, either from their personal experience the
-last phases of small ownership in the textile trade, or, from what their
-fathers had told them, the conditions of a time when small and well-divided
-ownership in cottage looms was actually common.
-
-All that has passed. The last chapter of its passage has been singularly
-rapid. Roughly speaking, it is the generation brought up under the
-Education Acts of the last forty years which has grown up definitely and
-hopelessly proletarian. The present instinct, use, and meaning of property
-is lost to it: and this has had two very powerful effects, each strongly
-inclining our modern wage-earners to ignore the old barriers which lay
-between a condition of servitude and a condition of freedom. The first
-effect is this: that property is no longer what they seek, nor what they
-think obtainable for themselves. The second effect is that they regard the
-possessors of property as a class apart, whom they always must ultimately
-obey, often envy, and sometimes hate; whose moral right to so singular a
-position most of them would hesitate to concede, and many of them would now
-strongly deny, but whose position they, at any rate, accept as a known and
-permanent social fact, the origins of which they have forgotten, and the
-foundations of which they believe to be immemorial.
-
-To sum up: The attitude of the proletariat in England to-day (the attitude
-of the overwhelming majority, that is, of English families) towards
-property and towards that freedom which is alone obtainable through
-property is no longer an attitude of experience or of expectation. They
-think of themselves as wage-earners. To increase the weekly stipend of the
-wage-earner is an object which they vividly appreciate and pursue. To make
-him cease to be a wage earner is an object that would seem to them entirely
-outside the realities of life.
-
-What of the second factor, the gambling chance which the Capitalist system,
-with its necessary condition of freedom, of the legal power to bargain
-fully, and so forth, permits to the proletarian of escaping from his
-proletariat surroundings?
-
-Of this gambling chance and the effect it has upon men's minds we may say
-that, while it has not disappeared, it has very greatly lost in force
-during the last forty years. One often meets men who tell one, whether they
-are speaking in defence of or against the Capitalist system, that it still
-blinds the proletarian to any common consciousness of class, because the
-proletarian still has the example before him of members of his class, whom
-he has known, rising (usually by various forms of villainy) to the position
-of capitalist. But when one goes down among the working men themselves, one
-discovers that the hope of such a change in the mind of any individual
-worker is now exceedingly remote. Millions of men in great groups of
-industry, notably in the transport industry and in the mines, have quite
-given up such an expectation. Tiny as the chance ever was, exaggerated as
-the hopes in a lottery always are, that tiny chance has fallen in the
-general opinion of the workers to be negligible, and that hope which a
-lottery breeds is extinguished. The proletarian now regards himself as
-definitely proletarian, nor destined within human likelihood to be anything
-but proletarian.
-
-* * * * *
-
-These two factors, then, the memory of an older condition of economic
-freedom, and the effect of a hope individuals might entertain of escaping
-from the wage-earning class, the two factors which might act most strongly
-_against_ the acceptation of the Servile State by that class, have so
-fallen in value that they offer but little opposition to the third factor
-in the situation which is making so strongly _for_ the Servile State, and
-which consists in the necessity all men acutely feel for sufficiency and
-for security. It is this third factor alone which need be seriously
-considered to-day, when we ask ourselves how far the material upon which
-social reform is working, that is, the masses of the people, may be ready
-to accept the change.
-
-The thing may be put in many ways. I will put it in what I believe to be
-the most conclusive of all.
-
-If you were to approach those millions of families now living at a wage,
-with the proposal for a contract of service for life, guaranteeing them
-employment at what each regarded as his usual full wage, how many would
-refuse?
-
-Such a contract would, of course, involve a loss of freedom: a
-life-contract of the kind is, to be accurate, no contract at all. It is the
-negation of contract and the acceptation of status. It would lay the man
-that undertook it under an obligation of forced labour, coterminous and
-coincident with his power to labour. It would be a permanent renunciation
-of his right (if such a right exists) to the surplus values created by his
-labour. If we ask ourselves how many men, or rather how many families,
-would prefer freedom (with its accompaniments of certain insecurity and
-possible insufficiency) to such a life-contract, no one can deny that the
-answer is: "Very few would refuse it." That is the key to the whole matter.
-
-What proportion would refuse it no one can determine; but I say that even
-as a voluntary offer, and not as a compulsory obligation, a contract of
-this sort which would for the future destroy contract and re-erect status
-of a servile sort would be thought a boon by the mass of the proletariat
-to-day.
-
-Now take the truth from another aspect--by considering it thus from one
-point of view and from another we can appreciate it best--Of what are the
-mass of men now most afraid in a Capitalist State? Not of the punishments
-that can be inflicted by a Court of Law, but of "the sack."
-
-You may ask a man why he does not resist such and such a legal infamy; why
-he permits himself to be the victim of fines and deductions from which the
-Truck Acts specifically protect him; why he cannot assert his opinion in
-this or that matter; why he has accepted, without a blow, such and such an
-insult.
-
-Some generations ago a man challenged to tell you why he forswore his
-manhood in any particular regard would have answered you that it was
-because he feared punishment at the hands of the law; to-day he will tell
-you that it is because he fears unemployment.
-
-Private law has for the second time in our long European story overcome
-public law, and the sanctions which the Capitalist can call to the aid of
-his private rule, by the action of his private will, are stronger than
-those which the public Courts can impose.
-
-In the seventeenth century a man feared to go to Mass lest the judges
-should punish him. To-day a man fears to speak in favour of some social
-theory which he holds to be just and true lest his master should punish
-him. To deny the rule of public powers once involved public punishments
-which most men dreaded, though some stood out. To deny the rule of private
-powers involves to-day a private punishment against the threat of which
-very few indeed dare to stand out.
-
-Look at the matter from yet another aspect. A law is passed (let us
-suppose) which increases the total revenue of a wage-earner, or guarantees
-him against the insecurity of his position in some small degree. The
-administration of that law requires, upon the one hand, a close inquisition
-into the man's circumstances by public officials, and, upon the other hand,
-the administration of its benefits by that particular Capitalist or group
-of Capitalists whom the wage-earner serves to enrich. Do the Servile
-conditions attaching to this material benefit prevent a proletarian in
-England to-day from preferring the benefit to freedom? It is notorious that
-they do not.
-
-No matter from what angle you approach the business, the truth is always
-the same. That great mass of wage-earners upon which our society now
-reposes understands as a present good all that will increase even to some
-small amount their present revenue and all that may guarantee them against
-those perils of insecurity to which they are perpetually subject. They
-understand and welcome a good of this kind, and they are perfectly willing
-to pay for that good the corresponding price of control and
-enregimentation, exercised in gradually increasing degree by those who are
-their paymasters.
-
-* * * * *
-
-It would be easy by substituting superficial for fundamental things, or
-even by proposing certain terms and phrases to be used in the place of
-terms and phrases now current it would be easy, I say, by such methods to
-ridicule or to oppose the prime truths which I am here submitting. They
-none the less remain truths.
-
-Substitute for the term "employee" in one of our new laws the term "serf,"
-even do so mild a thing as to substitute the traditional term "master" for
-the word "employer," and the blunt words might breed revolt. Impose of a
-sudden the full conditions of a Servile State upon modern England, and it
-would certainly breed revolt. But my point is that when the foundations of
-the thing have to be laid and the first great steps taken, there is no
-revolt; on the contrary, there is acquiescence and for the most part
-gratitude upon the part of the poor. After the long terrors imposed upon
-them through a freedom unaccompanied by property, they see, at the expense
-of losing a mere legal freedom, the very real prospect of _having enough_
-and _not losing it_.
-
-All forces, then, are making for the Servile State in this the final phase
-of our evil Capitalist society in England. The generous reformer is
-canalised towards it; the ungenerous one finds it a very mirror of his
-ideal; the herd of "practical" men meet at every stage in its inception the
-"practical" steps which they expected and demanded; while that proletarian
-mass upon whom the experiment is being tried have lost the tradition of
-property and of freedom which might resist the change, and are most
-powerfully inclined to its acceptance by the positive benefits which it
-confers.
-
-It may be objected that however true all this may be, no one can, upon such
-theoretical grounds, regard the Servile State as something really
-approaching us. We need not believe in its advent (we shall be told) until
-we see the first effects of its action.
-
-To this I answer that the first effects of its action are already apparent.
-The Servile State is, in industrial England to-day, no longer a menace but
-something in actual existence. It is in process of construction. The first
-main lines of it are already plotted out; the cornerstone of it is already
-laid.
-
-To see the truth of this it is enough to consider laws and projects of law,
-the first of which we already enjoy, while the last will pass from project
-to positive statute in due process of time.
-
-
-Appendix on "Buying-Out"
-
-
-There is an impression abroad among those who propose to expropriate the
-Capitalist class for the benefit of the State, but who appreciate the
-difficulties in the way of direct confiscation, that by spreading the
-process over a sufficient number of years and pursuing it after a certain
-fashion bearing all the outward appearances of a purchase, the
-expropriation could be effected without the consequences and attendant
-difficulties of direct confiscation. In other words, there is an impression
-that the State could "buyout" the Capitalist class without their knowing
-it, and that in a sort of painless way this class can be slowly conjured
-out of existence.
-
-The impression is held in a confused fashion by most of those who cherish
-it, and will not bear a clear analysis.
-
-It is impossible by any jugglery to "buyout" the universality of the means
-of production without confiscation.
-
-To prove this, consider a concrete case which puts the problem in the
-simplest terms:--
-
-A community of twenty-two families lives upon the produce of two farms, the
-property of only two families out of that twenty-two.
-
-The remaining twenty families are Proletarian. The two families, with their
-ploughs, stores, land, etc., are Capitalist.
-
-The labour of the twenty proletarian families applied to the land and
-capital of these two capitalist families produces 300 measures of wheat, of
-which 200 measures, or 10 measures each, form the annual support of the
-twenty proletarian families; the remaining 100 measures are the surplus
-value retained as rent, interest, and profit by the two Capitalist
-families, each of which has thus a yearly income of 50 measures.
-
-The State proposes to produce, after a certain length of time, a condition
-of affairs such that the surplus values shall no longer go to the two
-Capitalist families, but shall be distributed to the advantage of the whole
-community, while it, the State, shall itself become the unembarrassed owner
-of both farms.
-
-Now capital is accumulated with the object of a certain return as the
-reward of accumulation. Instead of spending his money, a man saves it with
-the object of retaining as the result of that saving a certain yearly
-revenue. The measure of this does not fall in a particular society at a
-particular time below a certain level. In other words, if a man cannot get
-a certain minimum reward for his accumulation, he will not accumulate but
-spend.
-
-What is called in economics "The Law of Diminishing Returns" acts so that
-continual additions to capital, other things being equal (that is, the
-methods of production remaining the same), do not provide a corresponding
-increase of revenue. A thousand measures of capital applied to a particular
-area of natural forces will produce, for instance, 40 measures yearly, or 4
-per cent.; but 2000 measures applied in the same fashion will not produce
-80 measures. They will produce more than the thousand measures did, but not
-more in proportion; not double. They will produce, say, 60 measures, or 3
-per cent., upon the capital. The action of this universal principle
-automatically checks the accumulation of capital when it has reached such a
-point that the proportionate return is the least which a man will accept.
-If it falls below that he will spend rather than accumulate. The limit of
-this minimum in any particular society at any particular time gives the
-measure to what we call "_the Effective Desire of Accumulation_." Thus in
-England to-day it is a little over 3 per cent. The minimum which limits the
-accumulation of capital is a minimum return of about one-thirtieth yearly
-upon such capital, and this we may call for shortness the "E.D.A." of our
-society at the present time.
-
-When, therefore, the Capitalist estimates the full value of his
-possessions, he counts them in "so many years' purchase."[6] And that means
-that he is willing to take in a lump sum down for his possessions so many
-times the yearly revenue which he at present enjoys. If his E.D.A. is
-one-thirtieth, he will take a lump sum representing thirty times his annual
-revenue.
-
-So far so good. Let us suppose the two Capitalists in our example to have
-an E.D.A. of one-thirtieth. They will sell to the State if the State can
-put up 3000 measures of wheat.
-
-Now, of course, the State can do nothing of the kind. The accumulations of
-wheat being already in the hands of the Capitalists, and those
-accumulations amounting to much less than 3000 measures of wheat, the thing
-appears to be a deadlock.
-
-But it is not a deadlock if the Capitalist is a fool. The State can go to
-the Capitalists and say: "Hand me over your farms, and against them I will
-give you guarantee that you shall be paid _rather more than_ 100 measures
-of wheat a year for the thirty years. In fact, I will pay you half as much
-again until these extra payments amount to a purchase of your original
-stock."
-
-Out of what does this extra amount come? Out of the State's power to tax.
-
-The State can levy a tax upon the profits of both Capitalists A and B, and
-pay them the extra with their own money.
-
-In so simple an example it is evident that this "ringing of the changes"
-would be spotted by the victims, and that they would bring against it
-precisely the same forces which they would bring against the much simpler
-and more straightforward process of immediate confiscation.
-
-But it is argued that in a complex State, where you are dealing with
-myriads of individual Capitalists and thousands of particular forms of
-profit, the process can be masked.
-
-There are two ways in which the State can mask its action (according to
-this policy). It can buy out first one small area of land and capital out
-of the general taxation and then another, and then another, until the whole
-has been transferred; or it can tax with peculiar severity certain trades
-which the rest who are left immune will abandon to their ruin, and with the
-general taxation plus this special taxation buy out those unfortunate
-trades which will, of course, have sunk heavily in value under the attack.
-
-The second of these tricks will soon be apparent in any society, however
-complex; for after one unpopular trade had been selected for attack the
-trying on of the same methods in another less unpopular field will at once
-rouse suspicion.[7]
-
-The first method, however, might have some chance of success, at least for
-a long time after it was begun, in a highly complex and numerous society
-were it not for a certain check which comes in of itself. That check is the
-fact that the Capitalist only takes _more than_ his old yearly revenue with
-the object of reinvesting the surplus.
-
-I have a thousand pounds in Brighton railway stock, yielding me 3 per
-cent.: £30 a year. The Government asks me to exchange my bit of paper
-against another bit of paper guaranteeing the payment of £50 a year, that
-is, an extra rate a year, for so many years as will represent over and
-above the regular interest paid a purchase of my stock. The Government's
-bit of paper promises to pay to the holder £50 a year for, say,
-thirty-eight years. I am delighted to make the exchange, not because I am
-such a fool as to enjoy the prospect of my property being extinguished at
-the end of thirty-eight years, but because I hope to be able to reinvest
-the extra £20 every year in something else that will bring me in 3 per
-cent. Thus, at the end of the thirty-eight years I shall (or my heirs) be
-better off than I was at the beginning of the transaction, and I shall have
-enjoyed during its maturing my old £30 a year all the same.
-
-The State can purchase thus on a small scale by subsidising purchase out of
-the general taxation. It can, therefore, play this trick over a small area
-and for a short time with success. But the moment this area passes a very
-narrow limit the "market for investment" is found to be restricted, Capital
-automatically takes alarm, the State can no longer offer its paper
-guarantees save at an enhanced price. If it tries to turn the position by
-further raising taxation to what Capital regards as "confiscatory" rates,
-there will be opposed to its action just the same forces as would be
-opposed to frank and open expropriation.
-
-The matter is one of plain arithmetic, and all the confusion introduced by
-the complex mechanism of "finance" can no more change the fundamental and
-arithmetical principles involved than can the accumulation of triangles in
-an ordnance survey reduce the internal angles of the largest triangle to
-less than 180 degrees.[8] In fine: _if you desire to confiscate, you must
-confiscate_.
-
-You cannot outflank the enemy, as Financiers in the city and sharpers on
-the racecourse outflank the simpler of mankind, nor can you conduct the
-general process of expropriation upon a muddle-headed hope that somehow or
-other something will come out of nothing in the end.
-
-There are, indeed, two ways in which the State could expropriate without
-meeting the resistance that must be present against any attempt at
-confiscation. But the first of these ways is precarious, the second
-insufficient.
-
-They are as follows:--
-
-(1) The State can promise the Capitalist a larger yearly revenue than he is
-getting in the expectation that it, the State, can manage the business
-better than the Capitalist, or that some future expansion will come to its
-aid. In other words, if the State makes a bigger profit out of the thing
-than the Capitalist, it can buy out the Capitalist just as a private
-individual with a similar business proposition can buy him out.
-
-But the converse of this is that if the State has calculated badly, or has
-bad luck, it would find itself _endowing_ the Capitalists of the future
-instead of gradually extinguishing them.
-
-In this fashion the State could have "socialised" without confiscation the
-railways of this country if it had taken them over fifty years ago,
-promising the then owners more than they were then obtaining. But if it had
-socialised the hansom cab in the nineties, it would now be supporting in
-perpetuity that worthy but extinct type the cab-owner (and his children for
-ever) at the expense of the community.
-
-(2) The second way in which the State can expropriate without confiscation
-is by annuity. It can say to such Capitalists as have no heirs or care
-little for their fate if they have: "You have only got so much time to live
-and to enjoy your £30, will you take £50 until you die?" Upon the bargain
-being accepted the State will, in process of time, though not immediately
-upon the death of the annuitant, become an unembarrassed owner of what had
-been the annuitant's share in the means of production. But the area over
-which this method can be exercised is a very small one. It is not of itself
-a sufficient instrument for the expropriation of any considerable field.
-
-I need hardly add that as a matter of fact the so-called "Socialist" and
-confiscatory measures of our time have nothing to do with the problem here
-discussed. The State is indeed confiscating, that is, it is taxing in many
-cases in such a fashion as to impoverish the taxpayer and is lessening his
-capital rather than shearing his income. But it is not putting the proceeds
-into the means of production. It is either using them for immediate
-consumption in the shape of new official salaries or handing them over to
-another set of Capitalists.[9]
-
-But these practical considerations of the way in which sham Socialist
-experiments are working belong rather to my next section, in which I shall
-deal with the actual beginnings of the Servile State in our midst.
-
-
-
-
-Section Nine
-The Servile State Has Begun
-
-
-In this last division of my book I deal with the actual appearance of the
-Servile State in certain laws and proposals now familiar to the Industrial
-Society of modern England. These are the patent objects, "laws and projects
-of laws," which lend stuff to my argument, and show that it is based not
-upon a mere deduction, but upon an observation of things.
-
-Two forms of this proof are evident: first, the laws and proposals which
-subject the _Proletariat_ to Servile conditions; next, the fact that the
-_Capitalist_, so far from being expropriated by modern "Socialist"
-experiments, is being confirmed in his power.
-
-I take these in their order, and I begin by asking in what statutes or
-proposals the Servile State first appeared among us.
-
-A false conception of our subject might lead one to find the origins of the
-Servile State in the restrictions imposed upon certain forms of
-manufacture, and the corresponding duties laid upon the Capitalist in the
-interest of his workmen. The Factory Laws, as they are in this country,
-would seem to offer upon this superficial and erroneous view a starting
-point. They do nothing of the kind; and the view _is_ superficial and
-erroneous because it neglects the fundamentals of the case. What
-distinguishes the Servile State is not the interference of law with the
-action of any citizen even in connection with industrial matters. Such
-interference may or may not indicate the presence of a Servile status. It
-in no way indicates the presence of that status when it forbids a
-particular kind of human action to be undertaken by the citizen as a
-citizen.
-
-The legislator says, for instance, "You may pluck roses; but as I notice
-that you sometimes scratch yourself, I will put you in prison unless you
-cut them with scissors at least 122 millimetres long, and I will appoint
-one thousand inspectors to go round the country seeing whether the law is
-observed. My brother-in-law shall be at the head of the Department at
-£2,000 a year."
-
-We are all familiar with that type of legislation. We are all familiar with
-the arguments for and against it in any particular case. We may regard it
-as onerous, futile, or beneficent, or in any other light, according to our
-various temperaments. But it does not fall within the category of servile
-legislation, because it establishes no distinction between two classes of
-citizens, marking off the one as legally distinct from the other by a
-criterion of manual labour or of income.
-
-This is even true of such regulations as those which compel a Cotton Mill,
-for instance, to have no less than such and such an amount of cubic space
-for each operative, and such and such protection for dangerous machinery.
-These laws do not concern themselves with the nature, the amount, or even
-the existence of a contract for service. The object, for example, of the
-law which compels one to fence off certain types of machinery is simply to
-protect human life, regardless of whether the human being so protected is
-rich or poor, Capitalist or Proletarian. These laws may in effect work in
-our society so that the Capitalist is made responsible for the Proletarian,
-but he is not responsible _qua_ Capitalist, nor is the Proletarian
-protected _qua_ Proletarian.
-
-In the same way the law may compel me, if I am a Riparian owner, to put up
-a fence of statutory strength wherever the water of my river is of more
-than a statutory depth. Now it cannot compel me to do this unless I am the
-owner of the land. In a sense, therefore, this might be called the
-recognition of my _Status_, because, by the nature of the case, only
-landowners can be affected by the law, and landowners would be compelled by
-it to safeguard the lives of all, whether they were or were not owners of
-land.
-
-But the category so established would be purely accidental. The object and
-method of the law do not concern themselves with a distinction between
-citizens.
-
-A close observer might indeed discover certain points in the Factory laws,
-details and phrases, which did distinctly connote the existence of a
-Capitalist and of a Proletarian class. But we must take the statutes as a
-whole and the order in which they were produced, above all, the general
-motive and expressions governing each main statute, in order to judge
-whether such examples of interference give us an origin or not.
-
-The verdict will be that they do not. Such legislation may be oppressive in
-any degree or necessary in any degree, but it does not establish status in
-the place of contract, and it is not, therefore, servile.
-
-Neither are those laws servile which in practice attach to the poor and not
-to the rich. Compulsory education is in legal theory required of every
-citizen for his children. The state of mind which goes with plutocracy
-exempts of course all above a certain standard of wealth from this law. But
-the law does apply to the universality of the commonwealth, and all
-families resident in Great Britain (not in Ireland) are subject to its
-provisions.
-
-These are not origins. A true origin to the legislation I approach comes
-later. The first example of servile legislation to be discovered upon the
-Statute Book is that which establishes the present form of _Employer's
-Liability_.
-
-I am far from saying that that law was passed, as modern laws are beginning
-to be passed, with the direct object of establishing a new status; though
-it was passed with some consciousness on the part of the legislator that
-such a new status was in existence as a social fact. Its motive was merely
-humane, and the relief which it afforded seemed merely necessary at the
-time; but it is an instructive example of the way in which a small neglect
-of strict doctrine and a slight toleration of anomaly admit great changes
-into the State.
-
-There had existed from all time in every community, and there was founded
-upon common sense, the legal doctrine that if one citizen was so placed
-with regard to another by contract that he must in the fulfilment of that
-contract perform certain services, and if those services accidentally
-involved damages to a third party, not the actual perpetrator of the
-damage, but he who designed the particular operation leading to it was
-responsible.
-
-The point is subtle, but, as I say, fundamental. It involved no distinction
-of status between employer and employed.
-
-Citizen A offered citizen B a sack of wheat down if citizen B would plough
-for him a piece of land which might or might not produce more than a sack
-of wheat.
-
-Of course citizen A expected it would produce more, and was awaiting a
-surplus value, or he would not have made the contract with citizen B. But,
-at any rate, citizen B put his name to the agreement, and as a free man,
-capable of contracting, was correspondingly bound to fulfil it.
-
-In fulfilling this contract the ploughshare B is driving destroys a pipe
-conveying water by agreement through A's land to C. C suffers damage, and
-to recover the equivalent of that damage his action in justice and common
-sense can only be against A, for B was carrying out a plan and instruction
-of which A was the author. C is a third party who had nothing to do with
-such a contract and could not possibly have justice save by his chances of
-getting it from A, who was the true author of the unintentional loss
-inflicted, since he designed the course of work.
-
-But when the damage is not done to C at all, but to B, who is concerned
-with a work the risks of which are known and willingly undertaken, it is
-quite another matter.
-
-Citizen A contracts with citizen B that citizen B, in consideration of a
-sack of wheat, shall plough a bit of land. Certain known risks must attach
-to that operation. Citizen B, if he is a free man, undertakes those risks
-with his eyes open. For instance, he may sprain his wrist in turning the
-plough, or one of the horses may kick him while he is having his
-bread-and-cheese. If upon such an accident A is compelled to pay damages to
-B, a difference of status is at once recognised. B undertook to do work
-which, by all the theory of free contract, was, with its risks and its
-expense of energy, the equivalent in B's own eyes of a sack of wheat; yet a
-law is passed to say that B can have more than that sack of wheat if he is
-hurt.
-
-There is no converse right of A against B. If the employer suffers by such
-an accident to the employee, _he_ is not allowed to dock that sack of
-wheat, though it was regarded in the contract as the equivalent to a
-certain amount of labour to be performed which, as a fact, has not been
-performed. A has no action unless B has been _culpably_ negligent or
-remiss. In other words, the mere fact that one man is _working_ and the
-other not is the fundamental consideration on which the law is built, and
-the law says: "You are not a free man making a free contract with all its
-consequences. You are a worker, and therefore an inferior: you are an
-_employee_; and that _status_ gives you a special position which would not
-be recognised in the other party to the contract."
-
-The principle is pushed still further when an employer is made liable for
-an accident happening to one of his employees at the hands of another
-employee.
-
-A gives a sack of wheat to B and D each if they will dig a well for him.
-All three parties are cognisant of the risks and accept them in the
-contract. B, holding the rope on which D is lowered, lets it slip. If they
-were all three men of exactly equal status, obviously D's action would be
-against B. But they are not of equal status in England to-day. B and D are
-_employees_, and are therefore in a special and inferior position before
-the law compared with their employer A. D's action is, by this novel
-principle, no longer against B, who accidentally injured him by a personal
-act, however involuntary, for which a free man would be responsible, but
-against A, who was innocent of the whole business.
-
-Now in all this it is quite clear that A has peculiar duties not because he
-is a citizen, but because he is something more: an employer; and B and D
-have special claims on A, not because they are citizens, but because they
-are something less: _viz. employees_. They can _claim protection_ from A,
-as inferiors of a superior in a State admitting such distinctions and
-patronage.
-
-It will occur at once to the reader that in our existing social state the
-employee will be very grateful for such legislation. One workman cannot
-recover from another simply because the other will have no goods out of
-which to pay damages. Let the burden, therefore, fall upon the rich man!
-
-Excellent. But that is not the point. To argue thus is to say that Servile
-legislation is necessary if we are to solve the problems raised by
-Capitalism. It remains servile legislation none the less. It is legislation
-that would not exist in a society where property was well divided and where
-a citizen could normally pay damages for the harm he had himself
-caused.[10]
-
-This first trickle of the stream, however, though it is of considerable
-historical interest as a point of departure, is not of very definite moment
-to our subject compared with the great bulk of later proposals, some of
-which are already law, others upon the point of becoming law, and which
-definitely recognise the Servile State, the re-establishment of status in
-the place of contract, and the universal division of citizens into two
-categories of employers and employed.
-
-* * * * *
-
-These last merit a very different consideration, for they will represent to
-history the conscious and designed entry of Servile Institutions into the
-old Christian State. They are not "origins," small indications of coming
-change which the historian will painfully discover as a curiosity. They are
-the admitted foundations of a new order, deliberately planned by a few,
-confusedly accepted by the many, as the basis upon which a novel and stable
-society shall arise to replace the unstable and passing phase of
-Capitalism.
-
-They fall roughly into three categories:--
-
-(1) Measures by which the insecurity of the proletariat shall be relieved
-through the action of the employing class, or of the proletariat itself
-acting under compulsion.
-
-(2) Measures by which the employer shall be compelled to give not less than
-a certain minimum for any labour he may purchase, and
-
-(3) Measures which compel a man lacking the means of production to labour,
-though he may have made no contract to that effect.
-
-The last two, as will be seen in a moment, are complementary one of
-another.
-
-As to the first: Measures to palliate the insecurity of the proletariat.
-
-We have of this an example in actual law at this moment. And that law the
-Insurance Act (whose political source and motive I am not here discussing)
-follows in every particular the lines of a Servile State.
-
-(a) Its fundamental criterion is employment. In other words, I am compelled
-to enter a scheme providing me against the mischances of illness and
-unemployment not because I am a citizen, but only if I am:
-
-(1) Exchanging services for goods; and either
-
-(2) Obtaining less than a certain amount of goods for those services, or
-
-(3) A vulgar fellow working with his hands. The law carefully excludes from
-its provisions those forms of labour to which the educated and therefore
-powerful classes are subject, and further excludes from compulsion the mass
-of those who are for the moment earning enough to make them a class to be
-reckoned with as economically free. I may be a writer of books who, should
-he fall ill, will leave in the greatest distress the family which he
-supports. If the legislator were concerned for the morals of citizens, I
-should most undoubtedly come under this law, under the form of a compulsory
-insurance added to my income tax. But the legislator is not concerned with
-people of my sort. He is concerned with a new status which he recognises in
-the State, to wit, the proletariat. He envisages the proletariat not quite
-accurately as men either poor, or, if they are not poor, at any rate vulgar
-people working with their hands, and he legislates accordingly.
-
-(b) Still more striking, as an example of status taking the place of
-contract, is the fact that this law puts the duty of controlling the
-proletariat and of seeing that the law is obeyed _not_ upon the proletariat
-itself, but upon the _Capitalist class._
-
-Now this point is of an importance that cannot be exaggerated.
-
-The future historian, whatever his interest in the first indications of
-that profound revolution through which we are so rapidly passing, will most
-certainly fix upon that one point as the cardinal landmark of our times.
-The legislator surveying the Capitalist State proposes as a remedy for
-certain of its evils the establishment of two categories in the State,
-compels the lower man to registration, to a tax, and the rest of it, and
-further compels the upper man to be the instrument in enforcing that
-registration and in collecting that tax. No one acquainted with the way in
-which any one of the great changes of the past has taken place, the
-substitution of tenure for the Roman proprietary right in land, or the
-substitution of the mediaeval peasant for the serf of the Dark Ages, can
-possibly misunderstand the significance of such a turning point in our
-history.
-
-Whether it will be completed or whether a reaction will destroy it is
-another matter. Its mere proposal is of the greatest possible moment in the
-inquiry we are here pursuing.
-
-Of the next two groups, the fixing of a Minimum Wage and the Compulsion to
-Labour (which, as I have said, and will shortly show, are complementary one
-to the other), neither has yet appeared in actual legislation, but both are
-planned, both thought out, both possessed of powerful advocates, and both
-upon the threshold of positive law.
-
-* * * * *
-
-The fixing of a Minimum Wage, with a definite sum fixed by statute, has not
-yet entered our laws, but the first step towards such a consummation has
-been taken in the shape of giving legal sanction to some hypothetical
-Minimum Wage which shall be arrived at after discussion within a particular
-trade. That trade is, of course, the mining industry. The law does not say:
-"No Capitalist shall pay a miner less than so many shillings for so many
-hours' work." But it does say: "Figures having been arrived at by local
-boards, any miner working within the area of each board can claim by force
-of law the minimum sum established by such boards." It is evident that from
-this step to the next, which shall define some sliding scale of
-remuneration for labour according to prices and the profits of capital, is
-an easy and natural transition. It would give both parties what each
-immediately requires: to capital a guarantee against disturbance; to labour
-sufficiency and security. The whole thing is an excellent object lesson in
-little of that general movement from free contract to status, and from the
-Capitalist to the Servile State, which is the tide of our time.
-
-The neglect of older principles as abstract and doctrinaire; the immediate
-need of both parties immediately satisfied; the unforeseen but necessary
-consequence of satisfying such needs in such a fashion--all these, which
-are apparent in the settlement the mining industry has begun, are the
-typical forces producing the Servile State.
-
-Consider in its largest aspect the nature of such a settlement.
-
-The Proletarian accepts a position in which he produces for the Capitalist
-a certain total of economic values, and retains out of that total a portion
-only, leaving to the Capitalist all surplus value. The Capitalist, on his
-side, is guaranteed in the secure and permanent expectation of that surplus
-value through all the perils of social envy; the Proletarian is guaranteed
-in a sufficiency and a security for that sufficiency; but by the very
-action of such a guarantee there is withdrawn from him the power to refuse
-his labour and thus to aim at putting himself in possession of the means of
-production.
-
-Such schemes definitely divide citizens into two classes, the Capitalist
-and the Proletarian. They make it impossible for the second to combat the
-privileged position of the first. They introduce into the positive laws of
-the community a recognition of social facts which already divide Englishmen
-into two groups of economically more free and economically less free, and
-they stamp with the authority of the State a new constitution of society.
-Society is recognised as no longer consisting of free men bargaining freely
-for their labour or any other commodity in their possession, but of two
-contrasting status, owners and non-owners. The first must not be allowed to
-leave the second without subsistence; the second must not be allowed to
-obtain that grip upon the means of production which is the privilege of the
-first. It is true that this first experiment is small in degree and
-tentative in quality; but to judge the movement as a general whole we must
-not only consider the expression it has actually received so far in
-positive law, but the mood of our time.
-
-When this first experiment in a minimum wage was being debated in
-Parliament, what was the great issue of debate? Upon what did those who
-were the most ardent reformers particularly insist? _Not_ that the miners
-should have an avenue open to them for obtaining possession of the mines;
-not even that the State should have an avenue open to it for obtaining such
-possession; _but that the minimum wage should be fixed at a certain
-satisfactory level_! That, as our recent experience testifies for all of
-us, was the crux of the quarrel. And that such a point should be the crux,
-not the socialisation of the mines, nor the admission of the proletariat to
-the means of production, but only a sufficiency and a security of wage, is
-amply significant of the perhaps irresistible forces which are making in
-the direction for which I argue in this book.
-
-There was here no attempt of the Capitalist to impose Servile conditions
-nor of the Proletarian to resist them. Both parties were agreed upon that
-fundamental change. The discussion turned upon the minimum limit of
-subsistence to be securely provided, a point which left aside, because it
-took for granted, the establishment of _some_ minimum in any case.
-
-Next, let it be noted (for it is of moment to a later part of my argument)
-that experiments of this sort promise to extend piecemeal. There is no
-likelihood, judging by men's actions and speech, of some grand general
-scheme for the establishment of a minimum wage throughout the community.
-Such a scheme would, of course, be as truly an establishment of the Servile
-State as piecemeal schemes. But, as we shall see in a moment, the extension
-of the principle piecemeal has a considerable effect upon the forms which
-compulsion may take.
-
-The miners' refusal to work, with the exaggerated panic it caused, bred
-this first tentative appearance of the minimum wage in our laws. Normally,
-capital prefers free labour with its margin of destitution; for such an
-anarchy, ephemeral though it is of its nature, while it lasts provides
-cheap labour; from the narrowest point of view it provides in the still
-competitive areas of Capitalism a better chance for profits.
-
-But as one group of workmen after another, concerned with trades
-immediately necessary to the life of the nation, and therefore tolerating
-but little interruption, learn the power which combination gives them, it
-is inevitable that the legislator (concentrated as he is upon momentary
-remedies for difficulties as they arise) should propose for one such trade
-after another the remedy of a minimum wage.
-
-There can be little doubt that, trade by trade, the principle will extend.
-For instance, the two and a half millions now guaranteed against
-unemployment are guaranteed against it for a certain weekly sum. That
-weekly sum must bear some relation to their estimated earnings when they
-are in employment.
-
-It is a short step from the calculation of unemployment benefit (its being
-fixed by statute at a certain level, and that level determined by something
-which is regarded as the just remuneration of labour in that trade); it is
-a short step, I say, from that to a statutory fixing of the sums paid
-during employment.
-
-The State says to the Serf: "I saw to it that you should have so much when
-you were unemployed. I find that in some rare cases my arrangement leads to
-your getting more when you are unemployed than when you are employed. I
-further find that in many cases, though you get more when you are employed,
-yet the difference is not sufficient to tempt a lazy man to work, or to
-make him take any particular trouble to get work. I must see to this."
-
-The provision of a fixed schedule during unemployment thus inevitably leads
-to the examination, the defining, and at last the imposition of a minimum
-wage during employment; and every compulsory provision for unemployed
-benefits is the seed of a minimum wage.
-
-Of still greater effect is the mere presence of State regulation in such a
-matter. The fact that the State has begun to gather statistics of wages
-over these large areas of industry, and to do so not for a mere statistical
-object, but a practical one, and the fact that the State has begun to immix
-the action of positive law and constraint with the older system of free
-bargaining, mean that the whole weight of its influence is now in favour of
-regulation. It is no rash prophecy to assert that in the near future our
-industrial society will see a gradually extending area of industry in which
-from two sides the fixing of wages by statute shall appear. From the one
-side it will come in the form of the State examining the conditions of
-labour in connection with its own schemes for establishing sufficiency and
-security by insurance. From the other side it will come through the
-reasonable proposals to make contracts between groups of labour and groups
-of capital enforceable in the Courts.
-
-* * * * *
-
-So much, then, for the Principle of a Minimum Wage. It has already appeared
-in our laws. It is certain to spread. But how does the presence of this
-introduction of a Minimum form part of the advance towards the Servile
-State?
-
-I have said that the principle of a minimum wage involves as its converse
-the principle of compulsory labour. Indeed, most of the importance which
-the principle of a minimum wage has for this inquiry lies in that converse
-necessity of compulsory labour which it involves.
-
-But as the connection between the two may not be clear at first sight, we
-must do more than take it for granted. We must establish it by process of
-reason.
-
-There are two distinct forms in which the whole policy of enforcing
-security and sufficiency by law for the proletariat produce a corresponding
-policy of compulsory labour.
-
-The first of these forms is the compulsion which the Courts will exercise
-upon either of the parties concerned in the giving and in the receiving of
-the minimum wage. The second form is the necessity under which society will
-find itself, when once the principle of the minimum wage is conceded,
-coupled with the principle of sufficiency and security, to maintain those
-whom the minimum wage excludes from the area of normal employment.
-
-As to the first form:--
-
-A Proletarian group has struck a bargain with a group of Capitalists to the
-effect that it will produce for that capital ten measures of value in a
-year, will be content to receive six measures of value for itself, and will
-leave four measures as surplus value for the Capitalists. The bargain is
-ratified; the Courts have the power to enforce it. If the Capitalists by
-some trick of fines or by bluntly breaking their word pay out in wages less
-than the six measures, the Courts must have some power of constraining
-them. In other words, there must be some sanction to the action of the law.
-There must be some power of punishment, and, through punishment, of
-compulsion. Conversely, if the men, having struck this bargain, go back
-upon their word; if individuals among them or sections among them cease
-work with a new demand for seven measures instead of six, the Courts must
-have the power of constraining and of punishing _them_. Where the bargain
-is ephemeral or at any rate extended over only reasonable limits of time,
-it would be straining language perhaps to say that each individual case of
-constraint exercised against the workmen would be a case of compulsory
-labour. But extend the system over a long period of years, make it normal
-to industry and accepted as a habit in men's daily conception of the way in
-which their lives should be conducted, and the method is necessarily
-transformed into a system of compulsory labour. In trades where wages
-fluctuate little this will obviously be the case. "You, the agricultural
-labourers of this district, have taken fifteen shillings a week for a very
-long time. It has worked perfectly well. There seems no reason why you
-should have more. Nay, you put your hands to it through your officials in
-the year so and so that you regarded that sum as sufficient. Such and such
-of your members are now refusing to perform what this Court regards as a
-contract. They must return within the limits of that contract or suffer the
-consequences."
-
-Remember what power analogy exercises over men's minds, and how, when
-systems of the sort are common to many trades, they will tend to create a
-general point of view for all trades. Remember also how comparatively
-slight a threat is already sufficient to control men in our industrial
-society, the proletarian mass of which is accustomed to live from week to
-week under peril of discharge, and has grown readily amenable to the threat
-of any reduction in those wages upon which it can but just subsist.
-
-Nor are the Courts enforcing such contracts or quasi-contracts (as they
-will come to be regarded) the only inducement.
-
-A man has been compelled by law to put aside sums from his wages as
-insurance against unemployment. But he is no longer the judge of how such
-sums shall be used. They are not in his possession; they are not even in
-the hands of some society which he can really control. They are in the
-hands of a Government official. "Here is work offered you at twenty-five
-shillings a week. If you do not take it you certainly shall not have a
-right to the money you have been compelled to put aside. If you will take
-it the sum shall still stand to your credit, and when next in my judgment
-your unemployment is not due to your recalcitrance and refusal to labour, I
-will permit you to have some of your money: not otherwise." Dovetailing in
-with this machinery of compulsion is all that mass of registration and
-docketing which is accumulating through the use of Labour Exchanges. Not
-only will the Official have the power to enforce special contracts, or the
-power to coerce individual men to labour under the threat of a fine, but he
-will also have a series of _dossiers_ by which the record of each workman
-can be established. No man, once so registered and known, can escape; and,
-of the nature of the system, the numbers caught in the net must steadily
-increase until the whole mass of labour is mapped out and controlled.
-
-These are very powerful instruments of compulsion indeed. They already
-exist. They are already a part of our laws.
-
-Lastly, there is the obvious bludgeon of "compulsory arbitration": a
-bludgeon so obvious that it is revolting even to our proletariat. Indeed, I
-know of no civilised European state which has succumbed to so gross a
-suggestion. For it is a frank admission of servitude at one step, and for
-good and all, such as men of our culture are not yet prepared to
-swallow.[11]
-
-So much, then, for the first argument and the first form in which
-compulsory labour is seen to be a direct and necessary consequence of
-establishing a minimum wage and of scheduling employment to a scale.
-
-* * * * *
-
-The second is equally clear. In the production of wheat the healthy and
-skilled man who can produce ten measures of wheat is compelled to work for
-six measures, and the Capitalist is compelled to remain content with four
-measures for his share. The law will punish him if he tries to get out of
-his legal obligation and to pay his workmen less than six measures of wheat
-during the year. What of the man who is not sufficiently strong or skilled
-to produce even six measures? Will the Capitalist be constrained to pay him
-more than the values he can produce? Most certainly not. The whole
-structure of production as it was erected during the Capitalist phase of
-our industry has been left intact by the new laws and customs. Profit is
-still left a necessity. If it were destroyed, still more if a loss were
-imposed by law, that would be a contradiction of the whole spirit in which
-all these reforms are being undertaken. They are being undertaken with the
-object of establishing stability where there is now instability, and of
-"reconciling," as the ironic phrase goes, "the interests of capital and
-labour." It would be impossible, without a general ruin, to compel capital
-to lose upon the man who is not worth even the minimum wage. How shall that
-element of insecurity and instability be eliminated? To support the man
-gratuitously because he cannot earn a minimum wage, when all the rest of
-the commonwealth is working for its guaranteed wages, is to put a premium
-upon incapacity and sloth. The man must be made to work. He must be taught,
-if possible, to produce those economic values, which are regarded as the
-minimum of sufficiency. He must be kept at that work even if he cannot
-produce the minimum, lest his presence as a free labourer should imperil
-the whole scheme of the minimum wage, and introduce at the same time a
-continuous element of instability. Hence he is necessarily a subject for
-forced labour. We have not yet in this country, established by force of
-law, the right to this form of compulsion, but it is an inevitable
-consequence of those other reforms which have just been reviewed. The
-"Labour Colony" (a prison so called because euphemism is necessary to every
-transition) will be erected to absorb this surplus, and that last form of
-compulsion will crown the edifice of these reforms. They will then be
-complete so far as the subject classes are concerned, and even though this
-particular institution of the "Labour Colony" (logically the last of all)
-precede in time other forms of compulsion, it will make the advent of those
-other forms of compulsion more certain, facile, and rapid.
-
-* * * * *
-
-There remains one last remark to be made upon the concrete side of my
-subject. I have in this last section illustrated the tendency towards the
-Servile State from actual laws and actual projects with which all are
-to-day familiar in English industrial society, and I have shown how these
-are certainly establishing the proletariat in a novel, but to them
-satisfactory, Servile Status.
-
-It remains to point out in a very few lines the complementary truth that
-what should be the very essence of Collectivist Reform, to wit, the
-translation of the means of production from the hands of private owners to
-the hands of public officials, is nowhere being attempted. So far from its
-being attempted, all so-called "Socialistic" experiments in
-municipalisation and nationalisation are merely increasing the dependence
-of the community upon the Capitalist class. To prove this, we need only
-observe that every single one of these experiments is effected by a loan.
-
-Now what is meant in economic reality by these municipal loans and national
-loans raised for the purpose of purchasing certain small sections of the
-means of production?
-
-Certain Capitalists own a number of rails, cars, etc. They put to work upon
-these certain Proletarians, and the result is a certain total of economic
-values. Let the surplus values obtainable by the Capitalists after the
-subsistence of the proletarians is provided for amount to £10,000 a year.
-We all know how a system of this sort is "Municipalised." A "loan" is
-raised. It bears "interest." It is saddled with a "sinking fund."
-
-Now this loan is not really made in money, though the terms of it are in
-money. It is, at the end of a long string of exchanges, nothing more nor
-less than the loan of the cars, the rails, etc., by the Capitalists to the
-Municipality. And the Capitalists require, before they will strike the
-bargain, a guarantee that the whole of their old profit shall be paid to
-them, together with a further yearly sum, which after a certain number of
-years shall represent the original value of the concern when they handed it
-over. These last additional sums are called the "sinking fund"; the
-continued payment of the old surplus values is called the "interest."
-
-In theory certain small sections of the means of production might be
-acquired in this way. That particular section would have been "socialised."
-The "Sinking Fund" (that is, the paying of the Capitalists for their plant
-by instalments) might be met out of the general taxation imposed on the
-community, considering how large that is compared with any one experiment
-of the kind. The "interest" may by good management be met out of the true
-profits of the tramways. At the end of a certain number of years the
-community will be in possession of the tramways, will no longer be
-exploited in this particular by Capitalism, will have bought out Capitalism
-from the general taxes, and, in so far as the purchase money paid has been
-consumed and not saved or invested by the Capitalists, a small measure of
-"socialisation" will have been achieved.
-
-As a fact things are never so favourable.
-
-In practice three conditions militate against even these tiny experiments
-in expropriation: the fact that the implements are always sold at much more
-than their true value; the fact that the purchase includes non-productive
-things; and the fact that the rate of borrowing is much faster than the
-rate of repayment. These three adverse conditions lead in practice to
-nothing but the riveting of Capitalism more securely round the body of the
-State.
-
-For what is it that is paid for when a tramway, for instance, is taken
-over? Is it the true capital alone, the actual plant, which is paid for,
-even at an exaggerated price? Far from it! Over and above the rails and the
-cars, there are all the commissions that have been made, all the champagne
-luncheons, all the lawyers' fees, all the compensations to this man and to
-that man, all the bribes. Nor does this exhaust the argument. Tramways
-represent a productive investment. What about pleasure gardens,
-wash-houses, baths, libraries, monuments, and the rest? The greater part of
-these things are the product of "loans." When you put up a public
-institution you borrow the bricks and the mortar and the iron and the wood
-and the tiles from Capitalists, _and you pledge yourself to pay interest,
-and to produce a sinking fund precisely as though a town hall or a bath
-were a piece of reproductive machinery_.
-
-To this must be added the fact that a considerable proportion of the
-purchases are failures: purchases of things just before they are driven out
-by some new invention; while on the top of the whole business you have the
-fact that the borrowing goes on at a far greater rate than the repayment.
-
-In a word, all these experiments up and down Europe during our generation,
-municipal and national, have resulted in an indebtedness to capital
-increasing rather more than twice, but not three times, as fast as the rate
-of repayment. The interest which capital demands with a complete
-indifference as to whether the loan is productive or non-productive amounts
-to rather more than 1 1/2 per cent. _excess_ over the produce of the
-various experiments, even though we count in the most lucrative and
-successful of these, such as the state railways of many countries, and the
-thoroughly successful municipal enterprises of many modern towns.
-
-Capitalism has seen to it that it shall be a winner and not a loser by this
-form of sham Socialism, as by every other. And the same forces which in
-practice forbid confiscation see to it that the attempt to mask
-confiscation by purchase shall not only fail, but shall turn against those
-who have not had the courage to make a frontal attack upon privilege.
-
-* * * * *
-
-With these concrete examples showing how Collectivism, in attempting its
-practice, does but confirm the Capitalist position, and showing how our
-laws have already begun to impose a Servile Status upon the Proletariat, I
-end the argumentative thesis of this book.
-
-I believe I have proved my case.
-
-The future of industrial society, and in particular of English society,
-left to its own direction, is a future in which subsistence and security
-shall be guaranteed for the Proletariat, but shall be guaranteed at the
-expense of the old political freedom and by the establishment of that
-Proletariat in a status really, though not nominally, servile. At the same
-time, the Owners will be guaranteed in their profits, the whole machinery
-of production in the smoothness of its working, and that stability which
-has been lost under the Capitalist phase of society will be found once
-more.
-
-The internal strains which have threatened society during its Capitalist
-phase will be relaxed and eliminated, and the community will settle down
-upon that Servile basis which was its foundation before the advent of the
-Christian faith, from which that faith slowly weaned it, and to which in
-the decay of that faith it naturally returns.
-
-
-
-
-Conclusion It is possible to portray a great social movement of the past
-with accuracy and in detail if one can spare to the task the time necessary
-for research and further bring to it a certain power of co-ordination by
-which a great mass of detail can be integrated and made one whole.
-
-Such a task is rarely accomplished, but it does not exceed the powers of
-history.
-
-With regard to the future it is otherwise. No one can say even in its
-largest aspect or upon its chief structural line what that future will be.
-He can only present the main tendencies of his time: he can only determine
-the equation of the curve and presume that that equation will apply more or
-less to its next developments.
-
-So far as I can judge, those societies which broke with the continuity of
-Christian civilisation in the sixteenth century--which means, roughly,
-North Germany and Great Britain--tend at present to the re-establishment of
-a Servile Status. It will be diversified by local accident, modified by
-local character, hidden under many forms. But it will come.
-
-That the mere Capitalist anarchy cannot endure is patent to all men. That
-only a very few possible solutions to it exist should be equally patent to
-all. For my part, as I have said in these pages, I do not believe there are
-more than two: a reaction towards well-divided property, or the
-re-establishment of servitude. I cannot believe that theoretical
-Collectivism, now so plainly failing, will ever inform a real and living
-society.
-
-But my conviction that the re-establishment of the Servile Status in
-industrial society is actually upon us does not lead me to any meagre and
-mechanical prophecy of what the future of Europe shall be. The force of
-which I have been speaking is not the only force in the field. There is a
-complex knot of forces underlying any nation once Christian; a smouldering
-of the old fires.
-
-Moreover, one can point to European societies which will most certainly
-reject any such solution of our Capitalist problem, just as the same
-societies have either rejected, or lived suspicious of, Capitalism itself,
-and have rejected or lived suspicious of that industrial organisation which
-till lately identified itself with "progress" and national well-being.
-
-These societies are in the main the same as those which, in that great
-storm of the sixteenth century,--the capital episode in the story of
-Christendom--held fast to tradition and saved the continuity of morals.
-Chief among them should be noted to-day the French and the Irish.
-
-I would record it as an impression and no more that the Servile State,
-strong as the tide is making for it in Prussia and in England to-day, will
-be modified, checked, perhaps defeated in war, certainly halted in its
-attempt to establish itself completely, by the strong reaction which these
-freer societies upon its flank will perpetually exercise.
-
-Ireland has decided for a free peasantry, and our generation has seen the
-solid foundation of that institution laid. In France the many experiments
-which elsewhere have successfully introduced the Servile State have been
-contemptuously rejected by the populace, and (most significant!) a recent
-attempt to register and to "insure" the artisans as a separate category of
-citizens has broken down in the face of an universal and a virile contempt.
-
-That this second factor in the development of the future, the presence of
-free societies, will destroy the tendency to the Servile State elsewhere I
-do not affirm, but I believe that it will modify that tendency, certainly
-by example and perhaps by direct attack. And as I am upon the whole hopeful
-that the Faith will recover its intimate and guiding place in the heart of
-Europe, so I believe that this sinking back into our original Paganism (for
-the tendency to the Servile State is nothing less) will in due time be
-halted and reversed.
-
-_Videat Deus_.
-
-
-
-
-Endnotes
-
-[1] Save in this special sense of "Collectivist," the word "Socialist" has
-either no clear meaning, or is used synonymously with other older and
-better-known words.
-
-[2] The purchasing power of money fell during this century to about a third
-of its original standard. £3 (say) would purchase under Charles I the
-necessities which £1 would have purchased under Henry VIII. Nearly all the
-_receipts_ of the Crown were customary. Most of its _expenses_ were
-competitive. It continued to get but £1 where it was gradually compelled to
-pay out £3.
-
-[3] Before any trust is established in this country, the first step is to
-"interest" one of our politicians. The Telephones, the South Wales Coal
-Trust, the happily defeated Soap Trust, the Soda, Fish, and Fruit Trusts,
-are examples in point.
-
-[4] By which word "_property_" is meant, of course, property in the means
-of Production.
-
-[5] That this is an illusion I shall attempt to show on a later page.
-
-[6] By an illusion which clever statesmanship could use to the advantage of
-the community, he even estimates the natural forces he controls (which need
-no accumulation, but are always present) on the analogy of his capital, and
-will part with them at "so many years' purchase." It is by taking advantage
-of this illusion that land purchase schemes (as in Ireland) happily work to
-the advantage of the dispossessed.
-
-[7] Thus you can raid the brewers in a society half-Puritan where brewing
-is thought immoral by many, but proceed to railway stock and it will be a
-very different matter.
-
-[8] In using this metaphor I at once record my apologies to those who
-believe in elliptical and hyperbolic universes, and confess myself an
-old-fashioned parabolist. Further, I admit that the triangles in question
-are spherical.
-
-[9] Thus the money levied upon the death of some not very wealthy squire
-and represented by, say, locomotives in the Argentine, turns into two miles
-of palings for the pleasant back gardens of a thousand new officials under
-the Inebriates Bill, or is simply handed over to the shareholders of the
-Prudential under the Insurance Act. In the first case the locomotives have
-been given back to the Argentine, and after a long series of exchanges have
-been bartered against a great number of wood-palings from the Baltic not
-exactly reproductive wealth. In the second case the locomotives which used
-to be the squire's hands become, or their equivalent becomes, means of
-production in the hands of the Sassoons.
-
-[10] How true it is that the idea of status underlies this legislation can
-easily be tested by taking parallel cases, in one of which working men are
-concerned, in the other the professional class. If I contract to write for
-a publisher a complete History of the County of Rutland, and in the pursuit
-of that task, while examining some object of historical interest, fall down
-a pit, I should not be able to recover against the publisher. But if I
-dress in mean clothes, and the same publisher, deceived, gives me a month's
-work at cleaning out his ornamental water and I am wounded in that
-occupation by a fierce fish, he will be mulcted to my advantage, and that
-roundly.
-
-[11] But it has twice been brought forward in due process as a Bill in
-Parliament!
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SERVILE STATE ***
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
-United States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
- most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
- restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
- under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
- eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
- United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
- you are located before using this eBook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that:
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
- to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
- agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
- within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
- legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
- payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
- Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
- License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
- copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
- all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
- works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
- any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
- receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
-widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.