CHAPTER XIX

Eden Vale: Aug. 11, ----

What we learnt from the director of the Freeland Central Bank occupied the

thoughts of my father and myself for a long time. As this high functionary,

who was a frequent visitor at the house of the Neys, dined with our hosts

the next day, the table-talk ran mainly upon the Freeland institutions. My

father began by asking whether the circumstance that the rest of the world,

from which Freeland did not--and, in fact, in this matter could

not--isolate itself, paid interest for loans, did not induce Freeland

savers to seek foreign investments for their money; or whether at least

some artificial means had not to be adopted to prevent this.

'There is nothing, absolutely nothing,' answered Mr. Clark, 'to prevent

Freeland savers from investing their capital abroad; in fact, at present--I

have quite recently been referring to the statistics upon this point

regularly published by our central bank--some two and a-half milliards

(2,500,000,000£) are invested partly in the large foreign banks, partly in

European and American bonds. For example, a good half of your Italian

national debt is in the hands of Freelanders. But what are such figures in

comparison with the gigantic amounts of our savings and capital? We cannot

prevent, and have no reason whatever to prevent, many Freelanders from

being induced by foreign interest to accumulate more capital than is needed

here at home on the one hand, and more than they consider necessary to

insure themselves against old age on the other. For what is required for

these two purposes cannot go abroad.'

'And is not this last-mentioned fact a disadvantage to the Freeland saver?'

I asked.

'A Freelander who thought so,' said Mr. Ney, 'must have a very imperfect

knowledge of what is to his own advantage. The interest paid by foreign

debtors can in no respect compare with the advantages offered by employment

of the money in Freeland, those advantages being, as you know, equably

distributed among all the members of our commonwealth. At the end of last

year we had altogether thirty-four milliards sterling invested. The

calculated profit of these investments amounted to seven milliards;

therefore, more than twenty per cent. Moreover, thanks to these same

investments, every Freelander enjoys gratuitously the electric light,

warming, the use of railways and steamships, &c., advantages the total

value of which would very nearly equal the remunerative production effected

by our investments. Anyone can now calculate how much more profitable

Freeland investments of capital are than foreign ones. Moreover, the two

and a-half milliards, of which friend Clark spoke, is a large sum in

European and American financial operations, and it has actually contributed

towards very considerably lowering from time to time the rate of interest

in all the foreign money-markets; but when this amount is compared with

Freeland finances, the investment of it abroad is seen to be simply an

insignificant and harmless whim. This large sum brings in, at the present

rate of interest--you will understand that Freeland savers invest merely in

the very best European or American bonds--about thirty-four millions

sterling; that is, not quite the two-hundredth part of the national revenue

of Freeland. And there can be no doubt that this whim will--for us--lose

much of even its present importance as Freeland continues to grow; for the

competition of our capital has already reduced the rate of discount of the

Bank of England to one and a-quarter per cent., and raised the price of the

One and a-Half per cent. Consols to 118; hence there can be no doubt that a

large flow of Freeland savings to Europe and America must, in a near

future, reduce the rate of interest to a merely nominal figure. That this

whim of investing capital abroad will altogether vanish as soon as foreign

countries adopt our institutions is self-evident.'

I now addressed to Mr. Clark the question in what way the Freeland

commonwealth guarded against the danger of _crises_, which, in my opinion,

must here be much more disastrous than in any other country.

'Crises of any kind,' was the answer, 'would certainly dissolve the whole

complex of the Freeland institutions; but here they are impossible, for

lack of the source from which they elsewhere spring. The cause of all

crises, whether called production-crises or capital-crises, lies simply in

over-production--that is, in the disproportion between production and

consumption; and this disproportion does not exist among us. In fact, the

starting-point of the Freeland social reform is the correct perception of

the essential character of over-production arrived at twenty-six years ago

by the International Free Society. Until then--and in the rest of the world

it is still the case--the science of political economy found in this

phenomenon an embarrassing enigma, with which it did not know how better to

deal than to deny its existence. There was no real over-production--that

is, no general non-consumption of products--so taught the orthodox

political economists; for, they contended, men labour only when induced to

do so to supply a need, and it is therefore impossible in the nature of

things that more goods should be produced than can be consumed. And, on our

supposition, to which I will refer presently, this is perfectly correct.

Everyone will use what he produces to meet a certain need; he will either

use his product himself or will exchange it for what another has produced.

It matters not what that other product is, it is at any rate something that

has been produced; the question never need be what kind of product, but

only whether some product is asked for. Let us assume that an improvement

has taken place in the production of wheat: it is possible that the demand

for wheat will not increase in proportion to the possibility of increasing

its production, for it is not necessary that the producers of wheat should

use their increased earnings in a larger consumption of wheat. But then the

demand for something else would correspondingly increase--for example, for

clothing, or for tools; and if this were only known in time, and production

were turned in that direction, there would never be a disturbance in the

exchange-relations of the several kinds of goods. Thus the orthodox

doctrine explains crises as due not to a surplus of products in general,

not to a mere disproportion between production and consumption, but to a

transient disturbance of the right relation between the several kinds of

production; and it adds that it is simply paradoxical to talk of a

deficient demand in view of the misery prevailing all over the world.

'In this, in other respects perfectly unassailable reasoning, only _one_

thing is forgotten--the fundamental constitution of the exploiting system

of society. Certainly it is a cruel paradox to speak of a general lack of

demand in view of boundless misery; but where an immense majority of men

have no claim upon the fruits of their labour, this paradox becomes a

horrible reality. What avails it to the suffering worker that he knows how

to make right, good, and needful use of what he produces, if that which he

produces does not belong to him? Let us confine ourselves to the example of

the increased production of wheat by improved methods of cultivation. If

the right of disposal of the increased quantity of grain belonged to the

agricultural producers, they would certainly eat more or finer bread, and

thus themselves consume a part of the increased production; with another

part they would raise the demand for clothing, and with another the demand

for implements, which would necessarily be required in order that more

grain and clothing might be produced. In such a case it would really be

merely a question of restoring the right relation between the production of

wheat, of clothing, of implements, which had been disturbed by the

increased production of one of these--wheat; and increased production, a

condition of greater prosperity for all, would, after some transient

disturbances, be the inevitable consequence. But since the increased

proceeds of wheat-cultivation do not belong to the workers, since those

workers receive in any case only a bare subsistence, the progress which has

been made in their branch of production does not enable them to consume

either more grain or more clothing, and therefore there can exist no

increased demand for implements for the production of wheat and textile

fabrics.'

'But,' I objected, 'though this increased product is withheld from the

workers, it is not ownerless--it belongs to the undertakers; and these too

are men who wish to use their gains to satisfy some want or other. The

undertakers will now increase their consumption; and after all one might

suppose it would be impossible that a general disproportion should exist

between supply and demand. Certainly it would now be commodities of another

kind, the production of which would be stimulated in order to restore an

equilibrium between the several branches of labour. If the increase

belonged to the workers, then would more grain, more ordinary clothing, and

more implements be required; but since it belongs to a few undertakers

there will be an increased demand only for luxuries--dainties, laces,

equipages--and for the implements requisite to produce these luxuries.'

'Exactly!' said David, who here joined in the conversation. 'Only the

undertakers are by no means inclined to apply, in any considerable degree,

the surplus derived from increased production to an additional consumption

of luxuries; but they capitalise most of it--that is, invest it in

implements of production. Nay, in some circumstances--as we heard

yesterday--the "undertaker" is no man at all possessing human wants, but a

mere dummy that consumes nothing and capitalises everything.'

'So much the better,' I said, 'wealth will increase all the more rapidly;

for rapidly growing capital means rapidly increasing production, and that

is in itself identical with rapidly increasing wealth.'

'Splendid!' cried David. 'So, because the working masses cannot increase

their consumption, and the undertakers will not correspondingly increase

theirs, and consequently there can be no increased consumption of any

commodity whatever, therefore the surplus power of production is utilised

in multiplying the means of production. That is, in other words, no one

needs more grain--so let us construct more ploughs; no one needs more

textile material--so let us set up more spinning-mills and looms! Are you

not yet able to measure the height of absurdity to which your doctrine

leads?'

I think, Louis, you, like myself, will admit that there is simply no reply

to reasoning so plain and convincing. An economic system which bars the

products of human industry and invention from the only use to which they

should finally be applied--namely, that of satisfying some human

requirement--and which is then astonished that they cannot be consumed,

narrowly escapes idiocy. But that such is the character of the system which

prevails in Europe and America must in the end become clear to everyone.

'But, in heaven's name, what becomes of the productive power among us which

thus remains unemployed?' I asked. 'We are, on the whole, as advanced in

art, science, and technical skill as you are in Freeland; I must therefore

suppose that we could become as rich, or nearly so, as you, if we could

only find a use for all our production. But we do not actually possess a

tenth of your wealth, and yet there is twice as much hard work done among

us as there is here. For though among you everyone works, and among us

there are several millions of persons of leisure who live simply upon the

toil of others, yet this is counterbalanced by the circumstance that our

working masses are kept at their toil ten hours or more daily, whilst here

an average working day is only five hours. Certainly among us there are

millions of unemployed workers; but that also is more than compensated for

by the labour of women and children, which is unknown among you. Where

then, I repeat, lies the immense difference between the utilisation of our

powers of production and of yours?'

'In the equipment of labour,' was the answer. 'We Freelanders do not work

so hard as you do, but we make full use of all the aids of science and

technics, whilst you are able to do this only exceptionally, and in no case

so completely as we do. All the inventions and discoveries of the greatest

minds are as well known to you as to us; but as a rule they are taken

advantage of only by us. Since your aristocratic institutions prevent you

from enjoying the things the production of which is facilitated by those

inventions, you are not able to take advantage of the inventions except in

such small measure as your institutions permit.'

Even my father was profoundly moved by this crushing exposition of a system

which he had always been accustomed to honour as the highest emanation of

eternal wisdom. 'Incredible! shocking!' he murmured in a tone audible only

to myself.

But Mr. Clark proceeded: 'Among us, on the contrary, the theorem of the

so-called classical economics, that a general excess of production is

impossible, has become a truth, for in Freeland consumption and production

exactly tally. Here there can be over-production only temporarily and in

_isolated_ kinds of goods--that is, the equilibrium between different kinds

of production may be temporarily disturbed. But we have no need to be

afraid of even this trifling danger. The intimate connection of all

productive interests springing from the nature of our institutions is an

antecedent guarantee of equilibrium between all branches of production. A

careful examination will show that the whole of Freeland is one great

productive society, whose individual members are independent of one

another, and yet are connected in one respect--namely, in respect of the

proceeds of their labour. Just because everyone can labour where and how he

pleases, but everyone's labour is alike in aiming at the highest possible

utility, so--apart from any incidental errors--it is impossible but that an

equal amount of labour should result in an equal amount of utility. All our

institutions tend towards this one point. At first, as long as our

commonwealth was in its initial stages, it sometimes happened that

considerable inequalities had to be subsequently balanced; the producers

did not always know until the year's accounts were closed what one and the

other had earned. But that was a period of childhood long since outlived.

At present, every Freelander knows, to within such trifling variations as

may be due to little unforeseen accidents, exactly what he and others have

earned, and also what they have every prospect of earning in the near

future. He does not wait for inequalities to arise and then set about

rectifying them; but he takes care that inequalities shall not arise. Since

our statistics always show with unerring accuracy what at the time is being

produced in every branch of industry, and since the demand as well as its

influence upon prices can be exactly estimated from a careful observation

of past years, therefore the revenue not only of every branch of industry,

but of every separate establishment, can be beforehand so reliably

calculated that nothing short of natural catastrophes can cause errors

worth notice. If such occur, then comes in the assistance of the reciprocal

insurance. In fact, in this country, not only are there no crises, but not

even any considerable variations in the different productions. Our

Statistical Department publishes an unbroken series of exact comparative

statistics, from which can at any time be seen where either fresh demand or

excess of labour is likely to arise; our supply of labour is controlled by

these returns, and that is sufficient--with rare exceptions--to preserve a

perfect equilibrium in production. It frequently occurs that here or there

a newly started establishment comes to grief, particularly in the mining

industry. Such a failure must not, however, be regarded as a

bankruptcy--how can undertakers become bankrupt when they have neither

ground-rent, nor interest, nor wages to pay, and who in any case still

possess their highly priced labour-power?--but at the worst as a case of

disappointed expectations. And should the very rare circumstance occur,

that the community or an association loses the loaned capital through the

premature death of the borrower, of what importance is that in the face of

the gigantic sums safely employed in our business? And if a guaranty (_del

credere_) were insisted upon to cover such a loss, it would amount to

scarcely a thousandth part of one per cent., and would not be worth the ink

used in writing it.'

'And do not foreign crises sometimes disturb the calm course of your

Freeland production? Are not your markets flooded, through foreign

over-production, with goods for which there is no corresponding demand?' I

asked.

'It certainly cannot be denied that we are considerably inconvenienced by

the frequent and sudden changes of price in the markets of the world caused

by the anarchic character of the exploiting system of production. We are

thereby often compelled to diminish our production in certain directions,

and divert the labour thus set free to other branches of industry, though

there is no actual change in the cost of production or in the relative

demand. These foreign, sudden, and incalculable influences sometimes make a

diversion of labour from one production to another necessary in order to

preserve an equilibrium in the profits, though the regular and automatic

migration of labour from one industry to another is sufficient to correct

the disturbance in the relations between supply and demand due to natural

causes. But these spasmodic foreign occurrences cannot produce a serious

convulsion in our industrial relations. Just as it is impossible to throw

out of equilibrium a liquid which yields to every pressure or blow, so our

industry is able to preserve its equilibrium by means of its absolutely

free mobility. It may be thrown into fruitless agitation, but its natural

gravity at once restores the harmony of its relations. But, as I have said,

such a disturbance is produced only by a partial over-production abroad.

That this brings about a superabundance of all commodities, we care but

little. Since foreign countries do not send us their goods for nothing, but

demand other goods in return, what those other goods shall be is their

business, not ours. We have no interest-bearing bonds or saleable property

in land; hence our export goods must be the produce of our labour. The fact

that in Freeland every product must find a purchaser is therefore by no

means affected by external trade.'

'That is very clear,' I admitted.

'But,' interposed my father,' why do you not protect yourselves against

disturbance due to foreign fluctuations in production, by a total exclusion

of foreign imports?'

'Because that would be to cut off one's hand in order to prevent it from

being injured,' was Mr. Clark's drastic answer. 'We import only those goods

which we cannot produce so cheaply ourselves. But since, as I have already

taken the liberty of saying, the imported goods are not presented to us,

but must be paid for by goods produced by us, it is of importance that we

should be able to produce the goods with which we make the payment more

cheaply--that is, with less expenditure of labour-power--than we could the

imported goods. For instance, we manufacture scarcely any cotton goods, but

get nearly all such goods from England and America. We could, certainly,

manufacture cotton goods ourselves, but it is plain that we should have to

expend upon their manufacture more labour-power than upon the production of

the corn, gold, machinery, and tools with which we pay for the cotton goods

that we require. If it were not so, we should manufacture cotton goods

also, for there is no conceivable reason for not doing so but the one just

mentioned. If, therefore, our legislature prohibited the importation of

cotton goods, we should have to divert labour from other branches of

industry for the sake of producing _less_ than we do now. We should have

either to put up with fewer goods, or to work more, to meet the same

demand. Hence, in this country, to enact a protective duty would be held to

be pure madness.'

'Then you hold,' said my father, 'that our European and American economists

and statesmen who still in part adhere to the system of protection, are

simply Bedlamites; and you believe that the only rational commercial policy

is that of absolute free trade?'

'Allow me to say,' answered Mr. Clark,' that Europe and America are not

Freeland. I certainly cannot regard protection even abroad as rational, for

the assumptions from which it starts are under all circumstances false. But

neither do I think the foreign free trader is essentially wiser than the

protectionist, for he also starts from assumptions which are baseless in an

exploiting country. The prohibitionists think they are encouraging

production: they are doing the opposite, they are hindering and hampering

production; and the free traders, in so far as they insist upon this fact,

are perfectly correct. Both parties, however, fail to see that in an

exploiting society, which is never able to utilise more than a small part

of its power to produce, the influence of legislative interference with

trade upon the good or the bad utilisation of productive power is a matter

of very little importance. Of what advantage is it to the free traders that

a nation under the domination of their commercial system _is able_ to make

the most prolific use of their industrial capacities, so long as the

continuance of industrial servitude prevents this nation from enjoying more

than enough to satisfy the barest necessities of life? More than is

consumed cannot, under any circumstances, be produced; and consumption

among you abroad is so infinitely small, that it is verily ridiculous to

dispute over the question whether this or that commodity can be produced

better at home or abroad.

'What alone interests us in this controversy among the foreign commercial

politicians is that neither party has the slightest suspicion that what the

free traders rightly reproach the protectionists with, and what the latter

wrongly defend, is the very thing that gains so many adherents to

protection--namely, the hindering and hampering of production. The

protectionists have a right to boast that they compel their people to apply

two day's labour or a double amount of capital to the production at home of

a thing which, by means of external trade, might have been exchanged for

things that are the product of merely half as much expenditure of home

labour. We, who work in order to enjoy, would have a good right to treat as

insane any persons among us who proposed such a course as an "encouragement

of home labour"; but among you, where labour and enjoyment are completely

dissevered, where millions cry for work as a favour--among you, the

hampering of labour is felt to be a benefit because it makes more toil

necessary in order to procure an equal amount of enjoyment. Among you it is

also a somewhat dangerous narcotic, for protection has a Janus head: it not

merely increases the toil, it at the same time still more diminishes the

consumption by raising the price of the articles in demand, the rise in

price never being followed immediately by a rise in wages; so that, in the

end, in spite of the increased difficulty in production, no more labour and

capital are employed than before. But the intimate relation between these

things is as a book sealed with seven seals to both protectionists and free

traders. Had it been otherwise, they must long since have seen that the

cure for industrial evils must be looked for not in the domain of

commercial politics, but in that of social politics.'

'Now I begin to understand,' I cried out, 'the widespread growth of

economic reaction against which we Western Liberals are waging a ridiculous

Quixotic war with all our apparently irrefutable arguments. We present to

the people as an argument against protection exactly that after which they

are--unconsciously, it is true--eagerly longing. Protective tariffs, trade

guilds, and whatever else the ingenious devices of the last decades may be

called, I now understand and recognise as desperate attempts made by men

whose very existence is threatened by the ever growing disproportion

between the power to produce and consumption--attempts to restore to some

extent the true proportion by curbing and checking the power to produce.

Whilst the protectionist is eager to put fetters upon the international

division of labour, to keep at a distance the foreigner who might otherwise

save him some of his toil, the advocate of trade-guilds fights for

hand-labour against machine-labour and commerce. And when I look into the

matter, I find all these people are in a certain sense wiser than we

Liberals of the old school, who know no better cure for the malady of the

time than that of shutting our eyes as firmly as possible. It is true, our

intentions have been of the best; but since we have at length discovered

how to attain what we wished for, we should at once throw off the fatal

self-deception that political freedom would suffice to make men truly free

and happy. Political freedom is an indispensable, but not the sole,

condition of progress; whoever refuses to recognise this condemns mankind

afresh to the night of reaction. For if, as our Liberal economics has

taught, it were really contrary to the laws of nature to guarantee to all

men a full participation in the benefits of progress, then not only would

progress be the most superfluous thing imaginable, but we should have to

agree with those who assert that the eternally disinherited masses can find

happiness only in ignorant indifference. Now I realise that the material

and mental reaction is the logically inevitable outcome of economic

orthodoxy. If wealth and leisure are impossible for all, then it is

strictly logical to promote material and mental reaction; whilst it is

absurd to believe that men will perpetually promote a growth of culture

without ever taking advantage of it. I now see with appalling distinctness

that if our toiling masses had not been saved by their social hopes from

sharing our economic pessimism, we Liberals would long since have found

ourselves in the midst of a reaction of a fearful kind: it is not through

_us_ that modern civilisation has been spared the destruction which

overwhelmed its predecessors.'

After dinner, Mr. Ney invited us to accompany him to the National Palace,

where the Parliament for Public Works was about to hold an evening session

in order to vote upon a great canal project. He thought the subject would

interest us. We accepted the invitation with thanks.

The Parliament for Public Works consists of 120 members, most of whom, as

David--who was one of the party--told me, are directors of large

associations, particularly of associations connected with building; but

among the members are also professors of technical universities, and other

specialists. The body contains no laymen who are ignorant of public works;

and the parliament may be said to contain the flower and quintessence of

the technical science and skill of all Freeland.

The project before the house was one which had been advocated for above a

year by the directors of the Water and Mountain-Cultivation Associations of

Eden Vale, North Baringo, Ripon, and Strahl City, in connection with two

professors of the technical university of Ripon. The project was nothing

less than the construction of a canal navigable by ships of 2,000 tons

burden, from Lake Tanganika, across the Mutanzige and Albert Nyanza, whence

the Nile could be followed to the Mediterranean Sea; and from the mouth of

the Congo, along the course of that river, across the Aruwhimi to the

Albert lake; thence following several smaller streams to the Baringo lake,

along the upper course of the Dana, and thence to the Indian Ocean. The

project thus included two water-ways, one of which would connect the great

lakes of Central Africa with the Mediterranean Sea, and the other, crossing

the whole of the continent, would connect the Atlantic with the Indian

Ocean. Since a part of the immense works involved in this project would

have to be carried through foreign territories--those of the Congo State

and of Egypt--negotiations had been opened with those States, and all the

necessary powers had been obtained. The readiness of the foreign

governments to accede to the wishes of the Eden Vale executive is explained

by the fact that Freeland did not propose to exact any toll for the use of

its canals, thus making its neighbours a free gift of these colossal works.

In connection with this project, there was also another for the acquisition

of the Suez Canal, which was to be doubled in breadth and depth and

likewise thrown open gratuitously to the world. The English government,

which owned the greater part of the Suez Canal shares, had met the

Freelanders most liberally, transferring to them its shares at a very low

price, so that the Freelanders had further to deal with only holders of a

small number of shares, who certainly knew how to take advantage of the

situation. The British government stipulated for the inalienable neutrality

of the canal, and urged the Freelanders to prosecute the work with vigour.

The following were the preliminary expenses:

£

South-North Canal (total length 3,900 miles) 385,000,000

East-West Canal (total length 3,400 miles) 412,000,000

Suez Canal (purchase and enlargement) 280,000,000

Total 1,077,000,000£

It was estimated that the whole would be completed in six years, and that

therefore a round sum of 180,000,000£ would be required yearly during the

progress of the work. The Freeland government believed that they were

justified by their past experience in expecting that the national income

would in the course of the coming six years increase from seven

milliards--the income of the past year--to at least ten and a-half

milliards, giving a yearly average of eight and a-half milliards for the

six years. The cost of construction of the projected works would therefore

absorb only two and one-eighth per cent. of the estimated national income,

and would be covered without raising the tax upon this income above its

normal proportion. The estimated cost was accompanied by detailed plans,

and also by an estimate of the profits, according to which it was

calculated that in the first year of use the canals would save the country

32,000,000£ in cost of transport; and therefore, taking into account the

presumptive growth of traffic, the canals would, in about thirty years, pay

for themselves in the mere saving of transport expenses. Moreover, these

future waterways were to serve in places as draining and irrigating canals;

and it was calculated that the advantage thus conferred upon the country

would be worth on an average 45,000,000£ a year. Thus the whole project

would pay for itself in fourteen years at the longest, without taking into

account the advantages conferred upon foreign nations.

As the whole of the proposals and plans had been in the hands of the

members for several weeks, and had been carefully studied by them, the

discussion began at once. No one offered any opposition to the principle of

the project. The debate was confined chiefly to two questions: first,

whether it was not possible to hasten the construction; and secondly,

whether an alternative plan, the details of which were before the house,

was not preferable. With reference to the first question, it was shown

that, by adopting a new system of dredging devised by certain experienced

specialists, quite six months could be saved; and it was therefore resolved

to adopt that system. As to the second question, after hearing the

arguments of Mr. Ney, it was unanimously decided to adhere to the plan of

the central executive. After a debate of less than three hours, the

government found itself empowered to spend 1,077,000,000£, something more

than the cost of all the canals in the rest of the civilised world. This

amount was to be spent in five and a-half years, in constructing works

which would make it possible for ocean steamers to cross the African

continent from east to west, to pass from the Mediterranean as far as the

tenth degree of south latitude, and to remove every obstacle and every toll

from the passage of the Suez Canal.

I was absolutely dumfounded by all this. 'If I had not already resolved to

strike the word "impossible" out of my vocabulary, I should do it now,' I

remarked to Mr. Ney on our way home. I must add that in the Freeland

parliaments all the proceedings take place in the presence of the public,

so that I had an opportunity of making a hasty examination of the details

of the project which had just been adopted. You know that I understand such

things a little, and I was therefore able to gather from the plans that the

two central ship canals crossed several watersheds. One of these watersheds

I accidentally knew something of, as we had passed a part of it on our

journey hither, and a part of it we had seen in some of our excursions. It

rises, as I reckon, at least 1,650 feet above the level of the canal. I

asked Mr. Ney whether it was really proposed to carry a waterway for ships

of 2,000 tons burden some 1,650 feet up and down--was it not impossible

either to construct or to work such a canal?

'Certainly!' he replied, with a smile. 'But if you look at the plan more

carefully, you will see that we do not _go over_ such watersheds by means

of locks, but _under_ them by means of tunnels.'

I looked at him incredulously, and my father's face expressed no little

astonishment.

'What do you find remarkable in that, my worthy guests? Why should it be

impracticable to do on canals what has so long and extensively been done on

railways, which could be much more easily carried _over_ hills and

valleys?' asked Mr. Ney. 'I admit that our canal tunnels are very costly;

but as, in working, they spare us what is the most expensive of all things,

human labour-time, they are the most practical for our circumstances.

Besides, in several cases we had no alternative except to dispense with the

canals or to construct tunnels. The watershed you speak of is not the most

considerable one: our greatest boring--connecting the river system of the

Victoria Nyanza with the Indian Ocean--is carried, in one stretch of ten

and a-half miles, 4,000 feet below the watershed; and altogether, in our

new project, we have not less than eighty-two miles of tunnelling. Such

tunnels are, however, not quite novelties. There are in France, as you

know, several short water-tunnels; we possess, in our old canal system,

several very respectable ones, though certainly they cannot compare either

in length or in size with the new ones, by means of which large ocean

vessels--with lowered masts, of course--will be able to steam through the

bowels of whole ranges of mountains. The cost is enormous; but you must

remember that every hour saved to a Freeland sailor is already worth eight

shillings, and increases in value year by year.'

'But,' said my father, 'what, after all, is inconceivable to me is the

haste, I might almost say the _nonchalance_, with which milliards were

voted to you, as if it was merely a question of the veriest trifle. I would

not for a moment question the integrity of the members of your Parliament

for Public Buildings; but I cannot refrain from saying that the whole

assembly gave me the impression of expecting the greatest personal

advantage from getting the work done as speedily and on as large a scale as

possible.'

'And that impression was a correct one,' replied Mr. Ney. 'But I must add

that every inhabitant of Freeland will necessarily derive the same personal

profit from the realisation of this canal project. Just because it is so,

just because among us there truly exists that solidarity of interests which

among other peoples exists only in name, are we able to expend such immense

sums upon works which can be shown to promise a utility above their cost.

If, among you, a canal is constructed which increases the profitableness of

large tracts of land, your recognised economics teaches you that it adds to

the prosperity of all. But this is correct only for the owners of the

ground affected by the canal, whilst the great mass of the population is

not benefited in the least by such a canal, and perhaps the owners of other

competing tracts of land are actually injured. The lowering of the price of

corn--so your statesmen assert--benefits the non-possessing classes; they

forget the little fact that the rate of wages cannot be permanently

maintained if the price of corn sinks. Against this there is certainly to

be placed as a consolation the fact that the non-possessing masses will not

be permanently injured by the increased taxes necessitated by such public

works; for he who earns only enough to furnish a bare subsistence cannot

long be made to pay much in taxes. Therefore, in your countries, the

controversy over such investments is a conflict of interests between

different landowners and undertakers, some of whom gain, whilst others gain

nothing, or actually lose. Among us, on the contrary, everyone is alike

interested in the gains of profitable investments in proportion to the

amount of work he does; and everyone is also called upon to contribute to

the defraying of the cost in proportion to the amount of work he does:

hence, a conflict of interests, or even a mere disproportion in reaping the

advantage, is among us absolutely excluded. The new canals will convert

17,000,000 acres of bog into fertile agricultural land. Who will be

benefited, when this virgin soil traversed by such magnificent waterways

annually produces so many more pounds sterling per acre than is produced by

other land? Plainly everyone in Freeland, and everyone alike, whether he be

agriculturist, artisan, professor, or official. Who gains by the lowering

of freights? Merely the associations and workers who actually make use of

the new waterways for transport? By no means; for, thanks to the unlimited

mobility of our labour, they necessarily share with everyone in Freeland

whatever advantage they reap. Therefore, with perfect confidence, we commit

the decision of such questions to those who are most immediately interested

in them. They know best what will be of advantage to them, and as their

advantage is everybody's advantage, so everybody's--that is, the

commonwealth's--treasury stands as open and free to them as their own. If

they wish to put their hands into it, the deeper the better! We have not to

inquire _whom_ the investment will benefit, but merely _if_ it is

profitable--that is, if it saves labour.'

'Marvellous, but true!' my father was compelled to admit. 'But since in

this country there exists the completest solidarity of interests, I cannot

understand why you require the repayment of the capital which the

commonwealth supplies to the different associations.'

'Because not to do so would be Communism with all its inevitable

consequences,' was the answer. 'The ultimate benefit of such gratuitously

given capital would certainly be reaped by all alike; but, in that case,

who could guarantee that the investment of the capital should be

advantageous and not injurious? For an investment of capital is

advantageous only when by its help more labour is saved than the creation

of the capital has cost. A machine that absorbs more labour than it takes

the place of is injurious. But we are now secured against such wasteful

expenditure, at least against any known waste of capital. The commonwealth,

as well as individuals, may be mistaken in its calculations; both may

consider an investment profitable which is afterwards proved to be

unprofitable--that is, which does not pay for the labour which it costs.

Nevertheless, the _intention_ in all investments can only be to save the

expenditure of energy, for both the commonwealth and individuals must bear

the cost of their own investments. If, however, the commonwealth had to be

responsible for the investments of individuals--that is, of the

associations--then the several associations would have no motive to avoid

employing such mechanical aids as would save less labour than they cost.

The necessary consequence of this liberality on the part of the

commonwealth would therefore be that the commonwealth would assume a right

of supervision and control over those who required capital; and this would

be incompatible with freedom and progress. All sense of personal

responsibility would be lost, the commonwealth would be compelled to busy

itself with matters which did not belong to it, and loss would be

inevitable in spite of all arbitrary restraints from above.'

'That, again,' said my father, 'is as plain and simple as possible. But I

must ask for an explanation of one other point. In virtue of the solidarity

of interests which prevails among you, everyone participates in all

improvements, wherever they may occur; this takes place in such a manner

that everyone has the right to exchange a less profitable branch of

production, or a less profitable locality, for a more profitable one. Then

what interest has the _individual_ producer--that is, the _individual_

association--to introduce improvements, since it must seem to be much

simpler, less troublesome, and less risky, to allow others to take the

initiative and to attach oneself to them when success is certain? But I

perceive that your associations are by no means lacking in push and

enterprise: how is this? What prompts your producers to run risks--small

though they may be--when the profit to be gained thereby must so quickly be

shared by everybody?'

'In the first place,' replied Mr. Ney, 'you overlook the fact that the

amount of the expected profit is not the only inducement by which

working-men, and particularly our Freeland workers, are influenced. The

ambition of seeing the establishment to which one belongs in the van and

not in the rear of all others, is not to be undervalued as a motive

actuating intelligent men possessing a strong _esprit de corps_. But, apart

from that, you must reflect that the members of the associations have also

a very considerable _material_ interest in the prosperity of their own

particular undertaking. Freeland workers without exception have very

comfortable, nay, luxurious homes, naturally for the most part in the

neighbourhood of their respective work-places; they run a risk of having to

leave these homes if their undertaking is not kept up to a level with

others. In the second place, the elder workmen--that is, those that have

been engaged a longer time in an undertaking--enjoy a constantly increasing

premium; their work-time has a higher value by several units per cent. than

that of the later comers. Hence, notwithstanding the solidarity of

interest, the members of each association have to take care that their

establishment is not excelled; and since the risk attending new

improvements is very small indeed, the spirit of invention and enterprise

is more keenly active among us than anywhere else in the world. The

associations zealously compete with each other for pre-eminence, only it is

a friendly rivalry and not a competitive struggle for bread.'

By this time it had grown late. My father and I would gladly have listened

longer to the very interesting explanations of our kind host, but we could

not abuse the courtesy of our friends, and so we parted; and I will take

occasion also to bid you, Louis, farewell for to-day.

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Freeland: A Social Anticipation · 第 12 / 21 章