WORK AND PAY
THE man who seeks to create a better order of
society has two resistances to contend with: one that
of Nature, the other that of his fellow-men. Broadly
speaking, it is science that deals with the resistance
of Nature, while politics and social organization are
the methods of overcoming the resistance of men.
The ultimate fact in economics is that Nature only
yields commodities as the result of labor. The necessity
of SOME labor for the satisfaction of our wants
is not imposed by political systems or by the exploitation
of the working classes; it is due to physical
laws, which the reformer, like everyone else, must
admit and study. Before any optimistic economic
project can be accepted as feasible, we must examine
whether the physical conditions of production impose
an unalterable veto, or whether they are capable of
being sufficiently modified by science and organization.
Two connected doctrines must be considered
in examining this question: First, Malthus' doctrine
of population; and second, the vaguer, but very
prevalent, view that any surplus above the bare
necessaries of life can only be produced if most men
work long hours at monotonous or painful tasks,
leaving little leisure for a civilized existence or
rational enjoyment. I do not believe that either
of these obstacles to optimism will survive a close
scrutiny. The possibility of technical improvement
in the methods of production is, I believe, so
great that, at any rate for centuries to come, there
will be no inevitable barrier to progress in the general
well-being by the simultaneous increase of commodities
and diminution of hours of labor.
This subject has been specially studied by Kropotkin,
who, whatever may be thought of his general
theories of politics, is remarkably instructive, concrete
and convincing in all that he says about the
possibilities of agriculture. Socialists and Anarchists
in the main are products of industrial life, and
few among them have any practical knowledge on the
subject of food production. But Kropotkin is an
exception. His two books, ``The Conquest of Bread''
and ``Fields, Factories and Workshops,'' are very
full of detailed information, and, even making great
allowances for an optimistic bias, I do not think it
can be denied that they demonstrate possibilities in
which few of us would otherwise have believed.
Malthus contended, in effect, that population
always tends to increase up to the limit of subsistence,
that the production of food becomes more expensive
as its amount is increased, and that therefore, apart
from short exceptional periods when new discoveries
produce temporary alleviations, the bulk of mankind
must always be at the lowest level consistent with
survival and reproduction. As applied to the civilized
races of the world, this doctrine is becoming
untrue through the rapid decline in the birth-rate;
but, apart from this decline, there are many other
reasons why the doctrine cannot be accepted, at any
rate as regards the near future. The century which
elapsed after Malthus wrote, saw a very great
increase in the standard of comfort throughout the
wage-earning classes, and, owing to the enormous
increase in the productivity of labor, a far greater
rise in the standard of comfort could have been
effected if a more just system of distribution had
been introduced. In former times, when one man's
labor produced not very much more than was needed
for one man's subsistence, it was impossible either
greatly to reduce the normal hours of labor, or
greatly to increase the proportion of the population
who enjoyed more than the bare necessaries of life.
But this state of affairs has been overcome by modern
methods of production. At the present moment,
not only do many people enjoy a comfortable income
derived from rent or interest, but about half the
population of most of the civilized countries in the
world is engaged, not in the production of commodities,
but in fighting or in manufacturing munitions
of war. In a time of peace the whole of this
half might be kept in idleness without making the
other half poorer than they would have been if the
war had continued, and if, instead of being idle, they
were productively employed, the whole of what they
would produce would be a divisible surplus over and
above present wages. The present productivity of
labor in Great Britain would suffice to produce an
income of about 1 pound per day for each family, even
without any of those improvements in methods which
are obviously immediately possible.
But, it will be said, as population increases, the
price of food must ultimately increase also as
the sources of supply in Canada, the Argentine,
Australia and elsewhere are more and more used up.
There must come a time, so pessimists will urge, when
food becomes so dear that the ordinary wage-earner
will have little surplus for expenditure upon other
things. It may be admitted that this would be true
in some very distant future if the population were to
continue to increase without limit. If the whole
surface of the world were as densely populated as
London is now, it would, no doubt, require almost
the whole labor of the population to produce the
necessary food from the few spaces remaining for
agriculture. But there is no reason to suppose that
the population will continue to increase indefinitely,
and in any case the prospect is so remote that it may
be ignored in all practical considerations.
Returning from these dim speculations to the
facts set forth by Kropotkin, we find it proved in
his writings that, by methods of intensive cultivation,
which are already in actual operation, the amount of
food produced on a given area can be increased far
beyond anything that most uninformed persons suppose
possible. Speaking of the market-gardeners in
Great Britain, in the neighborhood of Paris, and in
other places, he says:--
They have created a totally new agriculture. They
smile when we boast about the rotation system having
permitted us to take from the field one crop every year,
or four crops each three years, because their ambition is
to have six and nine crops from the very same plot of
land during the twelve months. They do not understand
our talk about good and bad soils, because they make
the soil themselves, and make it in such quantities as to
be compelled yearly to sell some of it; otherwise it would
raise up the level of their gardens by half an inch every
year. They aim at cropping, not five or six tons of
grass on the acre, as we do, but from 50 to 100 tons of
various vegetables on the same space; not 5 pound sworth of
hay, but 100 pounds worth of vegetables, of the plainest description,
cabbage and carrots.[38]
[38] Kropotkin, ``Fields, Factories and Workshops,'' p. 74.
As regards cattle, he mentions that Mr. Champion
at Whitby grows on each acre the food of two or
three head of cattle, whereas under ordinary high
farming it takes two or three acres to keep each head
of cattle in Great Britain. Even more astonishing
are the achievements of the Culture Maraicheres
round Paris. It is impossible to summarize these
achievements, but we may note the general
conclusion:--
There are now practical Maraichers who venture to
maintain that if all the food, animal and vegetable,
necessary for the 3,500,000 inhabitants of the Departments
of Seine and Seine-et-Oise had to be grown on
their own territory (3250 square miles), it could be
grown without resorting to any other methods of culture
than those already in use--methods already tested on a
large scale and proved successful.[39]
[39] Ib. p. 81.
It must be remembered that these two departments
include the whole population of Paris.
Kropotkin proceeds to point out methods by
which the same result could be achieved without long
hours of labor. Indeed, he contends that the great
bulk of agricultural work could be carried on by
people whose main occupations are sedentary, and
with only such a number of hours as would serve to
keep them in health and produce a pleasant diversification.
He protests against the theory of exces-
sive division of labor. What he wants is INTEGRATION,
``a society where each individual is a producer of
both manual and intellectual work; where each able-
bodied human being is a worker, and where each
worker works both in the field and in the industrial
workshop.''[40]
[40] Kropotkin, ``Field, Factories, and Workshops,'' p. 6.
These views as to production have no essential
connection with Kropotkin's advocacy of Anarchism.
They would be equally possible under State
Socialism, and under certain circumstances they
might even be carried out in a capitalistic regime.
They are important for our present purpose, not
from any argument which they afford in favor of one
economic system as against another, but from the
fact that they remove the veto upon our hopes which
might otherwise result from a doubt as to the productive
capacity of labor. I have dwelt upon agriculture
rather than industry, since it is in regard
to agriculture that the difficulties are chiefly supposed
to arise. Broadly speaking, industrial production
tends to be cheaper when it is carried on on
a large scale, and therefore there is no reason in
industry why an increase in the demand should lead
to an increased cost of supply.
Passing now from the purely technical and material
side of the problem of production, we come
to the human factor, the motives leading men to
work, the possibilities of efficient organization of
production, and the connection of production with
distribution. Defenders of the existing system
maintain that efficient work would be impossible without
the economic stimulus, and that if the wage
system were abolished men would cease to do enough
work to keep the community in tolerable comfort.
Through the alleged necessity of the economic motive,
the problems of production and distribution
become intertwined. The desire for a more just
distribution of the world's goods is the main inspiration
of most Socialism and Anarchism. We must,
therefore, consider whether the system of distribution
which they propose would be likely to lead to
a diminished production.
There is a fundamental difference between Socialism
and Anarchism as regards the question of distribution.
Socialism, at any rate in most of its
forms, would retain payment for work done or for
willingness to work, and, except in the case of persons
incapacitated by age or infirmity, would make
willingness to work a condition of subsistence, or at
any rate of subsistence above a certain very low
minimum. Anarchism, on the other hand, aims at
granting to everyone, without any conditions whatever,
just as much of all ordinary commodities as
he or she may care to consume, while the rarer com-
modities, of which the supply cannot easily be
indefinitely increased, would be rationed and divided
equally among the population. Thus Anarchism
would not impose any OBLIGATIONS of work, though
Anarchists believe that the necessary work could be
made sufficiently agreeable for the vast majority of
the population to undertake it voluntarily. Socialists,
on the other hand, would exact work. Some of
them would make the incomes of all workers equal,
while others would retain higher pay for the work
which is considered more valuable. All these different
systems are compatible with the common ownership
of land and capital, though they differ greatly
as regards the kind of society which they would
produce.
Socialism with inequality of income would not
differ greatly as regards the economic stimulus to
work from the society in which we live. Such differences
as it would entail would undoubtedly be to the
good from our present point of view. Under the
existing system many people enjoy idleness and
affluence through the mere accident of inheriting land
or capital. Many others, through their activities in
industry or finance, enjoy an income which is certainly
very far in excess of anything to which their
social utility entitles them. On the other hand, it
often happens that inventors and discoverers, whose
work has the very greatest social utility, are robbed
of their reward either by capitalists or by the failure
of the public to appreciate their work until too
late. The better paid work is only open to those who
have been able to afford an expensive training, and
these men are selected in the main not by merit but
by luck. The wage earner is not paid for his willingness
to work, but only for his utility to the employer.
Consequently, he may be plunged into destitution by
causes over which he has no control. Such destitution
is a constant fear, and when it occurs it produces
undeserved suffering, and often deterioration
in the social value of the sufferer. These are a few
among the evils of our existing system from the
standpoint of production. All these evils we might
expect to see remedied under any system of Socialism.
There are two questions which need to be considered
when we are discussing how far work requires
the economic motive. The first question is: Must
society give higher pay for the more skilled or socially
more valuable work, if such work is to be done in
sufficient quantities? The second question is: Could
work be made so attractive that enough of it would
be done even if idlers received just as much of the
produce of work? The first of these questions concerns
the division between two schools of Socialists:
the more moderate Socialists sometimes concede that
even under Socialism it would be well to retain
unequal pay for different kinds of work, while the
more thoroughgoing Socialists advocate equal
incomes for all workers. The second question, on the
other hand, forms a division between Socialists and
Anarchists; the latter would not deprive a man of
commodities if he did not work, while the former in
general would.
Our second question is so much more fundamental
than our first that it must be discussed at once, and
in the course of this discussion what needs to be said
on our first question will find its place naturally.
Wages or Free Sharing?--``Abolition of the
wages system'' is one of the watchwords common
to Anarchists and advanced Socialists. But in its
most natural sense it is a watchword to which only
the Anarchists have a right. In the Anarchist conception
of society all the commoner commodities will
be available to everyone without stint, in the kind
of way in which water is available at present.[41] Advo-
cates of this system point out that it applies already
to many things which formerly had to be paid for,
e.g., roads and bridges. They point out that it
might very easily be extended to trams and local
trains. They proceed to argue--as Kropotkin does
by means of his proofs that the soil might be made
indefinitely more productive--that all the commoner
kinds of food could be given away to all who demanded
them, since it would be easy to produce them in quantities
adequate to any possible demand. If this system
were extended to all the necessaries of life,
everyone's bare livelihood would be secured, quite
regardless of the way in which he might choose to
spend his time. As for commodities which cannot
be produced in indefinite quantities, such as luxuries
and delicacies, they also, according to the Anarchists,
are to be distributed without payment, but on a system
of rations, the amount available being divided
equally among the population. No doubt, though
this is not said, something like a price will have
to be put upon these luxuries, so that a man may
be free to choose how he will take his share: one man
will prefer good wine, another the finest Havana
cigars, another pictures or beautiful furniture. Presumably,
every man will be allowed to take such luxuries
as are his due in whatever form he prefers, the
relative prices being fixed so as to equalize the
demand. In such a world as this, the economic stimulus
to production will have wholly disappeared, and
if work is to continue it must be from other motives.[42]
[41] ``Notwithstanding the egotistic turn given to the public
mind by the merchant-production of our century, the Communist
tendency is continually reasserting itself and trying to
make its way into public life. The penny bridge disappears before
the public bridge; and the turnpike road before the free
road. The same spirit pervades thousands of other institutions.
Museums, free libraries, and free public schools; parks and
pleasure grounds; paved and lighted streets, free for everybody's
use; water supplied to private dwellings, with a growing tendency
towards disregarding the exact amount of it used by the
individual, tramways and railways which have already begun to
introduce the season ticket or the uniform tax, and will surely
go much further on this line when they are no longer private
property: all these are tokens showing in what direction further
progress is to be expected.''--Kropotkin, ``Anarchist Communism.''
[42] An able discussion of this question, at of various others,
from the standpoint of reasoned and temperate opposition to
Anarchism, will be found in Alfred Naquet's ``L'Anarchie et le
Collectivisme,'' Paris, 1904.
Is such a system possible? First, is it technically
possible to provide the necessaries of life in such
large quantities as would be needed if every man and
woman could take as much of them from the public
stores as he or she might desire?
The idea of purchase and payment is so familiar
that the proposal to do away with it must be thought
at first fantastic. Yet I do not believe it is nearly
so fantastic as it seems. Even if we could all have
bread for nothing, we should not want more than
a quite limited amount. As things are, the cost of
bread to the rich is so small a proportion of their
income as to afford practically no check upon their
consumption; yet the amount of bread that they consume
could easily be supplied to the whole population
by improved methods of agriculture (I am not speaking
of war-time). The amount of food that people
desire has natural limits, and the waste that would
be incurred would probably not be very great. As
the Anarchists point out, people at present enjoy
an unlimited water supply but very few leave the
taps running when they are not using them. And
one may assume that public opinion would be opposed
to excessive waste. We may lay it down, I think,
that the principle of unlimited supply could be
adopted in regard to all commodities for which the
demand has limits that fall short of what can be
easily produced. And this would be the case, if production
were efficiently organized, with the necessaries
of life, including not only commodities, but also
such things as education. Even if all education were
free up to the highest, young people, unless they were
radically transformed by the Anarchist regime,
would not want more than a certain amount of it.
And the same applies to plain foods, plain clothes,
and the rest of the things that supply our elementary
needs.
I think we may conclude that there is no technical
impossibility in the Anarchist plan of free
sharing.
But would the necessary work be done if the individual
were assured of the general standard of comfort
even though he did no work?
Most people will answer this question unhesitatingly
in the negative. Those employers in particular
who are in the habit of denouncing their
employes as a set of lazy, drunken louts, will feel quite
certain that no work could be got out of them except
under threat of dismissal and consequent starvation.
But is this as certain as people are inclined to sup-
pose at first sight? If work were to remain what
most work is now, no doubt it would be very hard to
induce people to undertake it except from fear of
destitution. But there is no reason why work should
remain the dreary drudgery in horrible conditions
that most of it is now.[43] If men had to be tempted to
work instead of driven to it, the obvious interest of
the community would be to make work pleasant. So
long as work is not made on the whole pleasant, it
cannot be said that anything like a good state of
society has been reached. Is the painfulness of work
unavoidable?
[43] ``Overwork is repulsive to human nature--not work. Overwork
for supplying the few with luxury--not work for the well-
being of all. Work, labor, is a physiological necessity, a necessity
of spending accumulated bodily energy, a necessity which
is health and life itself. If so many branches of useful work are
so reluctantly done now, it is merely because they mean overwork,
or they are improperly organized. But we know--old
Franklin knew it--that four hours of useful work every day
would be more than sufficient for supplying everybody with the
comfort of a moderately well-to-do middle-class house, if we all
gave ourselves to productive work, and if we did not waste our
productive powers as we do waste them now. As to the childish
question, repeated for fifty years: `Who would do disagreeable
work?' frankly I regret that none of our savants has ever been
brought to do it, be it for only one day in his life. If there is
still work which is really disagreeable in itself, it is only
because our scientific men have never cared to consider the
means of rendering it less so: they have always known that there
were plenty of starving men who would do it for a few pence
a day.'' Kropotkin, ```Anarchist Communism.''
At present, the better paid work, that of the
business and professional classes, is for the most part
enjoyable. I do not mean that every separate
moment is agreeable, but that the life of a man who
has work of this sort is on the whole happier than
that of a man who enjoys an equal income without
doing any work. A certain amount of effort, and
something in the nature of a continuous career, are
necessary to vigorous men if they are to preserve
their mental health and their zest for life. A considerable
amount of work is done without pay. People
who take a rosy view of human nature might have
supposed that the duties of a magistrate would be
among disagreeable trades, like cleaning sewers; but
a cynic might contend that the pleasures of vindictiveness
and moral superiority are so great that there is
no difficulty in finding well-to-do elderly gentlemen
who are willing, without pay, to send helpless wretches
to the torture of prison. And apart from enjoyment
of the work itself, desire for the good opinion of
neighbors and for the feeling of effectiveness is quite
sufficient to keep many men active.
But, it will be said, the sort of work that a man
would voluntarily choose must always be exceptional:
the great bulk of necessary work can never be anything
but painful. Who would choose, if an easy life
were otherwise open to him, to be a coal-miner, or a
stoker on an Atlantic liner? I think it must be conceded
that much necessary work must always remain
disagreeable or at least painfully monotonous, and
that special privileges will have to be accorded to
those who undertake it, if the Anarchist system is ever
to be made workable. It is true that the introduction
of such special privileges would somewhat mar the
rounded logic of Anarchism, but it need not,
I think, make any really vital breach in its system.
Much of the work that needs doing could be rendered
agreeable, if thought and care were given
to this object. Even now it is often only long hours
that make work irksome. If the normal hours of
work were reduced to, say, four, as they could be by
better organization and more scientific methods, a
very great deal of work which is now felt as a burden
would quite cease to be so. If, as Kropotkin suggests,
agricultural work, instead of being the lifelong
drudgery of an ignorant laborer living very
near the verge of abject poverty, were the occasional
occupation of men and women normally employed in
industry or brain-work; if, instead of being conducted
by ancient traditional methods, without any
possibility of intelligent participation by the wage-
earner, it were alive with the search for new methods
and new inventions, filled with the spirit of freedom,
and inviting the mental as well as the physical cooperation
of those who do the work, it might become
a joy instead of a weariness, and a source of health
and life to those engaged in it.
What is true of agriculture is said by Anarchists
to be equally true of industry. They maintain
that if the great economic organizations which
are now managed by capitalists, without consideration
for the lives of the wage-earners beyond
what Trade Unions are able to exact, were turned
gradually into self-governing communities, in which
the producers could decide all questions of methods,
conditions, hours of work, and so forth, there would
be an almost boundless change for the better: grime
and noise might be nearly eliminated, the hideousness
of industrial regions might be turned into beauty, the
interest in the scientific aspects of production might
become diffused among all producers with any native
intelligence, and something of the artist's joy in creation
might inspire the whole of the work. All this,
which is at present utterly remote from the reality,
might be produced by economic self-government.
We may concede that by such means a very large
proportion of the necessary work of the world could
ultimately be made sufficiently agreeable to be preferred
before idleness even by men whose bare livelihood
would be assured whether they worked or not.
As to the residue let us admit that special rewards,
whether in goods or honors or privileges, would have
to be given to those who undertook it. But this need
not cause any fundamental objection.
There would, of course, be a certain proportion
of the population who would prefer idleness. Provided
the proportion were small, this need not matter.
And among those who would be classed as idlers
might be included artists, writers of books, men
devoted to abstract intellectual pursuits--in short,
all those whom society despises while they are alive
and honors when they are dead. To such men, the
possibility of pursuing their own work regardless
of any public recognition of its utility would be
invaluable. Whoever will observe how many of our
poets have been men of private means will realize how
much poetic capacity must have remained undeveloped
through poverty; for it would be absurd to
suppose that the rich are better endowed by nature
with the capacity for poetry. Freedom for such men,
few as they are, must be set against the waste of
the mere idlers.
So far, we have set forth the arguments in favor
of the Anarchist plan. They are, to my mind, sufficient
to make it seem possible that the plan might
succeed, but not sufficient to make it so probable that
it would be wise to try it.
The question of the feasibility of the Anarchist
proposals in regard to distribution is, like so many
other questions, a quantitative one. The Anarchist
proposals consist of two parts: (1) That all the common
commodities should be supplied ad lib. to all
applicants; (2) That no obligation to work, or economic
reward for work, should be imposed on anyone.
These two proposals are not necessarily inseparable,
nor does either entail the whole system of Anarchism,
though without them Anarchism would hardly be
possible. As regards the first of these proposals, it
can be carried out even now with regard to some
commodities, and it could be carried out in no very
distant future with regard to many more. It is a
flexible plan, since this or that article of consumption
could be placed on the free list or taken of as
circumstances might dictate. Its advantages are
many and various, and the practice of the world tends
to develop in this direction. I think we may conclude
that this part of the Anarchists' system might
well be adopted bit by bit, reaching gradually the
full extension that they desire.
But as regards the second proposal, that there
should be no obligation to work, and no economic
reward for work, the matter is much more doubtful.
Anarchists always assume that if their schemes were
put into operation practically everyone would work;
but although there is very much more to be said
for this view than most people would concede at first
sight, yet it is questionable whether there is enough
to be said to make it true for practical purposes.
Perhaps, in a community where industry had become
habitual through economic pressure, public opinion
might be sufficiently powerful to compel most men
to work;[44] but it is always doubtful how far such
a state of things would be permanent. If public
opinion is to be really effective, it will be necessary
to have some method of dividing the community into
small groups, and to allow each group to consume
only the equivalent of what it produces. This will
make the economic motive operative upon the group,
which, since we are supposing it small, will feel that
its collective share is appreciably diminished by each
idle individual. Such a system might be feasible, but
it would be contrary to the whole spirit of Anarchism
and would destroy the main lines of its economic
system.
[44] ``As to the so-often repeated objection that nobody would
labor if he were not compelled to do so by sheer necessity, we
heard enough of it before the emancipation of slaves in America,
as well as before the emancipation of serfs in Russia; and we
have had the opportunity of appreciating it at its just value.
So we shall not try to convince those who can be convinced only
by accomplished facts. As to those who reason, they ought to
know that, if it really was so with some parts of humanity at
its lowest stages--and yet, what do we know about it?--or if
it is so with some small communities, or separate individuals,
brought to sheer despair by ill-success in their struggle against
unfavorable conditions, it is not so with the bulk of the civilized
nations. With us, work is a habit, and idleness an artificial
growth.'' Kropotkin, ``Anarchist Communism,'' p. 30.
The attitude of orthodox Socialism on this question
is quite different from that of Anarchism.[45]
Among the more immediate measures advocated in the
``Communist Manifesto'' is ``equal liability of all
to labor. Establishment of industrial armies, especially
for agriculture.'' The Socialist theory is that,
in general, work alone gives the right to the enjoyment
of the produce of work. To this theory there
will, of course, be exceptions: the old and the very
young, the infirm and those whose work is temporarily
not required through no fault of their own.
But the fundamental conception of Socialism, in regard
to our present question, is that all who can
should be compelled to work, either by the threat
of starvation or by the operation of the criminal
law. And, of course, the only kind of work recognized
will be such as commends itself to the authorities.
Writing books against Socialism, or against
any theory embodied in the government of the day,
would certainly not be recognized as work. No more
would the painting of pictures in a different style
from that of the Royal Academy, or producing plays
unpleasing to the censor. Any new line of thought
would be banned, unless by influence or corruption
the thinker could crawl into the good graces of the
pundits. These results are not foreseen by Socialists,
because they imagine that the Socialist State
will be governed by men like those who now advocate
it. This is, of course, a delusion. The rulers of the
State then will bear as little resemblance to the pres-
ent Socialists as the dignitaries of the Church after
the time of Constantine bore to the Apostles. The
men who advocate an unpopular reform are exceptional
in disinterestedness and zeal for the public
good; but those who hold power after the reform
has been carried out are likely to belong, in the main,
to the ambitious executive type which has in all ages
possessed itself of the government of nations. And
this type has never shown itself tolerant of opposition
or friendly to freedom.
[45] ``While holding this synthetic view on production, the
Anarchists cannot consider, like the Collectivists, that a
remuneration which would be proportionate to the hours of labor
spent by each person in the production of riches may be an
ideal, or even an approach to an ideal, society.'' Kropotkin,
``Anarchist Communism,'' p. 20.
It would seem, then, that if the Anarchist plan
has its dangers, the Socialist plan has at least equal
dangers. It is true that the evils we have been foreseeing
under Socialism exist at present, but the purpose
of Socialists is to cure the evils of the world
as it is; they cannot be content with the argument
that they would make things no worse.
Anarchism has the advantage as regards liberty,
Socialism as regards the inducements to work. Can
we not find a method of combining these two advantages?
It seems to me that we can.
We saw that, provided most people work in
moderation, and their work is rendered as productive
as science and organization can make it, there is no
good reason why the necessaries of life should not be
supplied freely to all. Our only serious doubt was
as to whether, in an Anarchist regime, the motives for
work would be sufficiently powerful to prevent a dan-
gerously large amount of idleness. But it would be
easy to decree that, though necessaries should be free
to all, whatever went beyond necessaries should only
be given to those who were willing to work--not, as
is usual at present, only to those in work at any
moment, but also to all those who, when they happened
not to be working, were idle through no fault
of their own. We find at present that a man who
has a small income from investments, just sufficient
to keep him from actual want, almost always prefers
to find some paid work in order to be able to afford
luxuries. So it would be, presumably, in such a
community as we are imagining. At the same time, the
man who felt a vocation for some unrecognized work
of art or science or thought would be free to follow his
desire, provided he were willing to ``scorn delights
and live laborious days.'' And the comparatively
small number of men with an invincible horror of
work--the sort of men who now become tramps--
might lead a harmless existence, without any grave
danger of their becoming sufficiently numerous to be
a serious burden upon the more industrious. In this
ways the claims of freedom could be combined with
the need of some economic stimulus to work. Such
a system, it seems to me, would have a far greater
chance of success than either pure Anarchism or pure
orthodox Socialism.
Stated in more familiar terms, the plan we are
advocating amounts essentially to this: that a certain
small income, sufficient for necessaries, should be
secured to all, whether they work or not, and that a
larger income, as much larger as might be warranted
by the total amount of commodities produced, should
be given to those who are willing to engage in some
work which the community recognizes as useful. On
this basis we may build further. I do not think it
is always necessary to pay more highly work which
is more skilled or regarded as socially more useful,
since such work is more interesting and more respected
than ordinary work, and will therefore often be
preferred by those who are able to do it. But we
might, for instance, give an intermediate income to
those who are only willing to work half the usual
number of hours, and an income above that of most
workers to those who choose a specially disagreeable
trade. Such a system is perfectly compatible with
Socialism, though perhaps hardly with Anarchism.
Of its advantages we shall have more to say at a
later stage. For the present I am content to urge
that it combines freedom with justice, and avoids
those dangers to the community which we have found
to lurk both in the proposals of the Anarchists and
in those of orthodox Socialists.