‹In a state of isolation, our wants exceed our powers;›
‹In consequence of Exchange, our powers exceed our wants.›
These propositions show the end and purpose of society. There are two
others which guarantee its indefinite improvement:—
‹In a state of isolation the gain of one may be the loss of another;›
‹In consequence of Exchange, the gain of each is the gain of all.›
Is it necessary to prove that, if nature had destined man to a
[p117] solitary life, the prosperity of one would have been
incompatible with that of another, and the more numerous men had
been, the less chance would they have had of attaining prosperity?
At all events, we see clearly in what way numbers might have been
injurious, and we do not see how they could have been beneficial. And
then, I would ask, under what form could the principle of sympathy
have manifested itself? How, or on what occasion, could it have been
called forth? Could we have even comprehended it?
But men exchange, and Exchange, as we have seen, implies the
separation of employments. It gives birth to professions and trades.
Each man sets himself to overcome a certain class of obstacles, for
the benefit of the Community. Each makes it his business to render a
certain description of ‹services›. Now, a complete analysis of value
demonstrates that each service ‹has value› in the first instance in
proportion to its intrinsic utility, and afterwards in proportion
to the wealth of those to whom it is furnished—that is to say, in
proportion as the community to whom the service is rendered has a
greater demand for it, and is in a better situation to pay for it.
Experience shows us that the artizan, the physician, the lawyer, the
merchant, the carrier, the professor, the ‹savant›, derive greater
returns from their services in Paris, in London, or at New York, than
in the Landes of Gascony, or the mountains of Wales, or the prairies
of the Far West. And does not this confirm the truth, ‹that each man
is more likely to prosper in proportion to the general prosperity of
the community in which he lives›?
Of all the harmonies which have come under my observation, this is
beyond doubt the most important, the finest, the most decisive, the
most suggestive. It sums up and includes all the others. This is why
I can give only a very incomplete demonstration of it in this place.
The whole scope and spirit of this work will establish it; and I
shall deem it a fortunate thing if its probability at least is made
so apparent as to induce the reader to convince himself of its truth
by farther inquiry and reflection.
For it is beyond question that on this turns our decision between
natural and artificial Organizations—that on this, and this alone,
hangs the solution of the Social Problem. If the prosperity of all
be the condition of the prosperity of each, then we can repose
with confidence not only on the economic power of free trade, but
on its moral force. If men only understood their true interests,
restrictions, mercantile jealousies, commercial wars, monopolies,
would go down under the influence of public opinion; [p118] and
before soliciting the interposition of government in any case, the
question would be, not “How am ‹I› to be benefited by it?” but
“What advantage is likely to result from it to the community?” This
last question, I grant, is sometimes elicited by the principle of
sympathy; but let men be once enlightened, and it will be called
forth by Self-interest. Then we shall be enabled to say with truth
that the two motive principles of our nature tend towards the same
result—the General Good; and it will be impossible to deny Moral
Power to self-interest, and the transactions which spring from it, as
far at least as their effects are concerned.
Consider the relations of man to man, family to family, province to
province, nation to nation, hemisphere to hemisphere, capitalist to
labourer, the man of property to the man of no property,—it seems
evident to me that it is impossible to resolve the social problem
from any one of these points of view, or even to enter upon its
solution, before choosing between these two maxims:—
‹The profit of one is the loss of another;›
‹The profit of one is the gain of another.›
For if nature has arranged matters so that antagonism is the law
of free transactions, our only resource is to vanquish nature and
stifle Freedom. If, on the other hand, these free transactions are
harmonious, that is to say, if they tend to ameliorate and equalize
the conditions of men, our efforts must be confined to allowing
nature to act, and maintaining the rights of human Liberty.
This is the reason why I conjure the young people to whom this work
is dedicated to scrutinize with care the formulas which it lays down,
and to analyze the peculiar nature and effects of Exchange. I hope
yet to find at least one among them who will be able to demonstrate
rigorously this proposition: “‹The good of each tends to the good of
all, as the good of all tends to the good of each›;” and who will,
moreover, be able to impress this truth upon men’s minds by rendering
the proof of it simple, lucid, and irrefragable. The man who does
this will have resolved the social problem, and be the benefactor of
the human race.
Depend upon it, that according as this axiom is true or false, the
natural laws of society are harmonious or antagonistic; and that
according as they are harmonious or antagonistic, it is our interest
to conform to them or to deviate from them. Were it once thoroughly
demonstrated, then, that under the empire of freedom men’s interests
harmonize and favour each other, all the efforts which we now see
governments making to disturb the [p119] action of these natural
social laws we should see directed to giving them force, or rather,
no efforts whatever would then be necessary, and all they would
have to do would be to abstain from interfering. In what does the
restraining action of governments consist? We may infer it from
the design they have in view. What is that design? To remedy the
inequality which is supposed to spring from Liberty. Now, there is
only one way of re-establishing the equilibrium, namely, ‹to take
from one in order to give to another›. Such, in fact, is the mission
which governments have arrogated to themselves, or have received;
and it is a rigorous consequence of the formula, that ‹the gain
of one is the loss of another›. If that axiom be true, Force must
repair the evils of Liberty. Thus governments, instituted for the
protection of liberty and property, have undertaken the task of
violating liberty and property in every shape; and they have done
so consistently, if it be in liberty and property that the germ and
principle of evil reside. Hence we see them everywhere engaged in the
artificial displacement and redistribution of labour, capital, and
responsibility.
On the other hand, an incalculable amount of intellectual force is
thrown away in the pursuit of artificial social organizations. ‹To
take from one in order to give to another›, to violate both liberty
and property, is a very simple design, but the means of carrying out
that design may be varied to infinity. Hence arise multitudes of
systems, which strike the producing classes with terror, since from
the very nature of the object they have in view, they menace all
existing interests.
Thus arbitrary and complex systems of government, the negation of
liberty and property, the antagonism of classes and nations, all
these are logically included in the axiom, that ‹the gain of one
is the loss of another›. And, for the same reason, simplicity in
government, respect for individual dignity, freedom of labour and
exchange, peace among nations, security for person and property, are
all contained and shut up in this truth—Interests are harmonious.
They are so, however, only on one condition, which is, that this
truth should be generally admitted.
But it is very far from being so. On reading what I have said on this
subject many people will be led to say, You break through an open
door. Who ever thought of contesting seriously the superiority of
Exchange to Isolation? In what book, unless indeed in the works of
Rousseau, have you encountered this strange paradox?
Those who stop me with this reflection forget only two things, two
[p120] symptoms, or rather two aspects of modern society, the
doctrines with which theorists inundate us, and the practice which
governments impose on us. It is quite impossible that the harmony
of interests can be universally recognised, since, on the one hand,
public force is constantly engaged in interfering to disturb natural
combinations, while, on the other, the great complaint which is made
against the ruling power is, that it does not interfere enough.
The question is this, Are the evils (I do not speak here of evils
which arise from our native infirmity)—are the evils to which society
is subject imputable to the action of natural social laws, or to our
disturbance of that action?
Now, here we have two co-existent facts, Evil,—and Public Force,
engaged to counteract the natural social laws. Is the first of these
facts the consequence of the second? For my own part, I believe so;
I should even say, I am certain of it. But at the same time I can
attest this, that in proportion as evil is developed, governments
invariably seek for a remedy in new disturbances of the natural laws,
and theorists reproach them with not going far enough. Am I not
thence entitled to conclude that they have but little confidence in
these laws?
Undoubtedly, if the question is between Isolation and Exchange we are
at one. But if the question be between free and compulsory exchange,
does the same thing hold? Is there nothing forced, factitious,
restrained, constrained, in France, in the manner in which services
which have relation to trade, to credit, to conveyances, to the
arts, to education, to religion, are exchanged? Are labour and
capital distributed naturally between agriculture and manufactures?
When existing interests are disturbed, are they allowed of their
own accord to return to their natural channels? Do we not encounter
trammels and obstacles on all sides? Are there not a hundred
professions which are interdicted to the majority of the people?
Is the Roman-catholic not ‹forced› to pay for the services of the
Jewish Rabbi, and the Jew for the services of the Catholic priest?
Is there a single man in France who has received the education which
his parents would have given him had they been free? Are not our
minds, our manners, our ideas, our employments, fashioned under the
‹régime› of the arbitrary, or at least of the artificial? Now, I
ask, whether thus to disturb the free exchange of services is not to
abjure and deny the harmony of interests? On what ground am I robbed
of my liberty, unless it be that it is judged hurtful to others? Is
it pretended that it is injurious to myself? This would be but to add
one antagonism the more. And only think! in what a situation [p121]
should we find ourselves if nature had placed in each man’s heart a
permanent irrepressible spring of action, urging him to injure those
around him, and at the same time to injure himself?
Alas! we have tried everything—when shall we make trial of the
simplest thing of all—Liberty. Liberty in all that does not offend
against justice—liberty to live, advance, improve—the free exercise
of our faculties—the free interchange of services. A beautiful and
solemn spectacle it would have been, had the Power which sprang from
the revolution of February thus addressed our citizens:—
“You have invested me with the public Force. I shall apply it
exclusively to those things in which the intervention of Force is
permissible, and there is but one—Justice. I shall force every one
to confine himself within the bounds of right. You may work freely
and as you please during the day, and sleep in peace at night. I have
taken under my charge the security of person and property—that is my
mission, and I will fulfil it—‹but I accept no other›. Let there then
be no longer any misunderstanding between us. Henceforth you shall
pay me only the light tribute which is necessary for the maintenance
of order and the administration of justice. Keep in mind that
henceforth every man must depend upon himself for his subsistence and
advancement. Turn no longer your longing eyes to me. Ask me no longer
for wealth, for employment, for credit, for education, for religion,
for morality. Never forget that the mainspring of your development is
in yourselves. As for me, I never act but through the intervention
of force. I have nothing, absolutely nothing, but what I derive from
you, and for this reason I cannot confer even the smallest advantage
on one except at the expense of another. Cultivate your fields,
then, manufacture and export your products, carry on trade, afford
each other credit, render and receive services freely, educate your
children, set them out in life, cultivate the arts, improve your
minds, refine and purify your tastes and sentiments, unite, form
industrial and charitable associations, join your efforts for your
individual good and that of the public, follow your inclinations,
fulfil your destinies by the free exercise of your powers, your
ideas, and your foresight. Expect from me only two things—Liberty and
Security—and depend upon it you cannot ask me for a third without
losing the other two.”
I am thoroughly persuaded that if the revolution of February had
proclaimed these principles we never should have had another
revolution. Is it possible to conceive that citizens, left perfectly
free in all other respects, would conspire to overturn a Power
[p122] whose action was limited to the satisfaction of the most
pressing, the most deeply felt of all our social requirements, the
requirements of Justice?
But it was unfortunately impossible for the National Assembly to
adopt this course, or make these sentiments heard. They were not in
accordance either with the ideas of the Assembly or the expectations
of the public. They would have terrified society as much as the
proclamation of Communism. To be responsible to ourselves, forsooth!
To trust to the State only for the maintenance of order and peace!
To expect from it neither wealth nor knowledge! To be able no longer
to make it responsible for our faults, our folly, our imprudence! To
trust only to ourselves for the means of subsistence and physical
amelioration, or moral and intellectual improvement! What on earth
is to become of us? Is not society on the eve of being invaded by
poverty, ignorance, error, irreligion, and perversity?
We allow that such undoubtedly would have been the fears which
would have manifested themselves on all sides had the revolution of
February proclaimed Liberty, that is to say, the reign of the natural
laws of society. Then we were either unacquainted with these laws,
or we wanted confidence in them. We could not get rid of the idea
that the motives and springs of action which God has implanted in the
mind of man are essentially perverse; that rectitude resides nowhere
but in the views and intentions of the governing power; that the
tendencies of human nature lead to disorganization, to anarchy,—in a
word, we believed in the inevitable antagonism of interests.
So far was the revolution of February from displaying any tendency
towards a natural organization, that never were the hopes and ideas
of French society so decidedly turned to artificial combinations
as at that epoch. Which of these combinations was in most favour?
I really cannot very well tell. The business, in the language of
the day, was to make experiments—‹Faciamus experimentum in corpore
vili›. Such was their contempt for individuality, so thoroughly
did they assimilate human nature to inert matter, that they talked
of making social experiments with men, just as we make chemical
experiments with acids and alkalies. The first tentative was begun at
the Luxembourg, we know with what success. Erelong the Constituent
Assembly instituted a Committee of Labour, in which a thousand social
schemes were engulfed and swallowed up. A Fourierist representative
seriously demanded lands and money (he would soon have asked for men
also) to enable him to manipulate his model society. Another [p123]
‹Egalitaire› representative offered his recipe, which was rejected.
The manufacturers were more lucky, and succeeded in maintaining
theirs. In the meantime, the Legislative Assembly named a commission
to organize “assistance.”
Now, what strikes us with surprise in all this is, that the Ruling
Power, for the sake of its own stability, did not from time to time
thus enter its protest:—“You are habituating thirty-six millions
of men to regard the State as responsible for all the good or evil
that may befall them in this world. At this rate, Government is
impossible.”
At any rate, if these various social inventions, dignified with the
high sounding title of organization, differ from each other in their
manner of proceeding, they are all founded on the same principle:
Take from one to give to another. Now such a principle clearly
could not meet with such universal sympathy from the people, unless
they were thoroughly convinced that men’s interests are naturally
antagonistic, and that the tendencies of human nature are essentially
perverse.
To take from one to give to another! I know well that things have
gone on in this way for a long time. But before you set yourselves
to imagine various means of realizing this whimsical principle for
the remedy of existing distress, would it not be well to inquire
whether that distress has not proceeded from the very fact that this
principle in a certain form has been realized already? Before seeking
a remedy in new disturbances of the natural social laws, should you
not make sure that such perturbations do not themselves constitute
the very evil from which society suffers, and which it is your object
to cure?
To take from one in order to give to another! Just allow me to mark
here the danger and the absurdity, in an economical point of view,
of this so-called ‹social› aspiration, which, fermenting among the
masses of our population, broke forth with so terrific a force in the
revolution of February.[27]
Where society consists of several grades, we are apt to think that
people of the highest rank enjoy Privileges or Monopolies at the
expense of all the other members of the community. This is odious,
but it is not absurd.
The second grade, the class immediately below the first, will not
fail to attack and batter down monopolies; and, with the assistance
of the masses, they will succeed sooner or later in bringing about
a Revolution. In that case, power passes into their hands, and they
still think that power implies Monopoly. [p124] This is still
odious, but it is not absurd, at least it is not impracticable; for
Monopolies are possible as long as there is, below the grade which
enjoys them, a lower stratum—namely, the public at large, which
supports and feeds them. If the third and fourth grade succeed, in
their turn, in effecting a revolution, they will, if they can, so
arrange as to make the most of the masses, by means of privileges
or monopolies skilfully combined. But then the masses, emaciated,
ground down, trampled upon, must also have their revolution. Why?
What are they going to do? You think, perhaps, that they are going
to abolish all monopolies and privileges, and to inaugurate the
reign of universal justice; that they are about to exclaim—away
with restrictions—away with shackles and trammels—away with
monopolies—away with Government interferences for the profit of
certain classes; begone taxes and grinding impositions; down with
political and diplomatic intrigues? Not at all. They have quite
another aim. They become their own solicitors, and in their turn
demand to be ‹privileged›! The public at large, imitating their
superiors, ask for monopolies! They urge their right to employment,
their right to credit, their right to education, their right to
assistance! But at whose expense? They are easy on that score. They
feel only that, if they are ensured employment, credit, education
for their children, repose for their old days, and all gratis, they
will be exceedingly happy; and, truly, no one disputes it. But is it
possible? Alas! no; and this is the reason why I say that here the
odious disappears, and the absurd has reached its climax.
Monopolies to the masses! Good people, reflect a little on the
vicious circle in which you are placing yourselves. Monopoly implies
some one to enjoy it, and some one to pay for it. We can understand a
privileged man, or a privileged class, but not a privileged people.
Is there below you a still lower stratum of society upon which you
can throw back the burden? Will you never comprehend the whimsical
mystification of which you are the dupes? Will you never understand
that the state can give you nothing with the one hand but what it
has taken from you with the other? that, far from there being for
you in this combination any possible increase of prosperity, the
final result of the operation must be an arbitrary Government, more
vexatious, more exacting, more uncertain, more expensive;—heavier
taxes,—more injustice, more offensive favouritism,—liberty more
restrained,—power thrown away,—occupations, labour, and capital
displaced,—covetousness excited,—discontent provoked,—and individual
energy extinguished? [p125]
The upper classes have got alarmed, and not without reason, at
this unhappy disposition of the masses. They see in it the germ of
incessant revolutions; for what Government can hold together which
has ventured to say—“I am in possession of force, and I will employ
it to support everybody at the expense of everybody? I undertake
to become responsible for the general happiness.” But is not the
alarm which has seized these classes a just and merited punishment?
Have they not themselves set the people the fatal example of that
grasping disposition of which they now complain? Have they not had
their own eyes perpetually turned to the treasury? Have they ever
failed to secure some monopoly, some privilege, great or small, to
manufactures, to banks, to mines, to landed property, to the arts,
even to the means of diversion, to the ballet, to the opera, to
everything and everybody, in short; except to the industry of the
people—to manual labour? Have they not multiplied beyond bounds
public employments, in order to increase, at the expense of the
people, their own resources? and is there at this day a single head
of a family in France who is not on the outlook for a ‹place› for
his son? Have they ever endeavoured to get rid of any one of the
acknowledged inequalities of taxation? Have they not for a long time
turned to account everything, even the electoral franchise? And yet
they are astonished and horrified that the people should adopt the
same course. When the spirit of mendicity has so long infected the
wealthy orders, how can we suppose that it will not penetrate to the
heart of the suffering masses?
However, a great revolution has taken place. Political power, the
power of making the laws, the disposal of the public force, has
passed virtually, if not yet in fact, into the hands of the people
along with universal suffrage. Thus the people, who have proposed the
problem for solution, will be called upon to solve it themselves:
and woe to the country, if, following the example which has been
set them, they seek its solution in Privilege, which is always an
invasion of another’s rights. They will find themselves mistaken, and
the mistake will bring with it a great lesson; for if it be possible
to violate the rights of the many for the benefit of the few, how can
we violate the rights of all for the benefit of all? But at what cost
will this lesson be taught us? And, in order to obviate so frightful
a danger, what ought the upper classes to do? Two things—renounce
all privileges and monopolies themselves, and enlighten the masses,
for there are only two things which can save society—Justice and
Knowledge. They ought to inquire with earnestness whether they do not
enjoy [p126] some monopoly or other, in order that they may renounce
it—whether they do not profit by some artificial inequalities, in
order that they may efface them—whether Pauperism is not in some
measure attributable to a disturbance of the natural social laws,
in order that they may put an end to it. They should be able to
hold out their hands to the people, and say to them, These hands
are full, but they are clean. Is this what they actually do? If I
am not very much mistaken, they do just the reverse. They begin by
guarding their monopolies, and we have seen them even turning the
revolution to profit by attempting to extend these monopolies. After
having deprived themselves of even the possibility of speaking the
truth and appealing to principles, they endeavour to vindicate their
consistency by engaging to treat the people as they have treated
themselves, and dazzle them with the bait of Privilege. Only, they
think themselves very knowing in conceding at present only a small
privilege, the right to “assistance,” in the hope of diverting them
from demanding a greater one—the right to employment. They do not
perceive that to extend and systematize more and more the maxim,
“Take from one to give to another,” is only to strengthen the
illusion which creates difficulties for the present and dangers for
the future.
We must not exaggerate, however. When the superior classes seek in
privilege a remedy for the evils which privilege has caused, they are
sincere, and act, I am convinced, rather from ignorance than from any
desire to commit injustice. It is an irreparable misfortune that the
governments which have succeeded each other in France have invariably
discouraged the teaching of Political Economy. And it is a still
greater misfortune that University Education fills all our heads
with Roman prejudices; in other words, with all that is repugnant
to social truth. This is what leads the upper classes astray. It
is the fashion at present to declaim against these classes. For my
own part, I believe that at no period have their intentions been
more benevolent. I believe that they ardently desire to solve the
social Problem. I believe that they would do more than renounce
their privileges,—that they would sacrifice willingly, in works of
charity, a part of the property they have acquired, if by that means
they were satisfied that an end could be put to the sufferings of the
working classes. It may be said, no doubt, that they are actuated by
interest or fear, and that it is no great generosity to abandon a
part of their fortune to save the remainder,—that it is, in fact, but
the vulgar prudence of a man who insures his property against fire.
But let us not thus calumniate human nature. Why should we refuse to
[p127] recognise a motive less egotistical? Is it not very natural
that the democratic sentiments which prevail in our country should
render men alive to the sufferings of their brethren? But whatever
may be the dominant sentiment, it cannot be denied that everything by
which public opinion is influenced—philosophy, literature, poetry,
the drama, the pulpit, the tribune, the daily press,—all these organs
of opinion reveal not only a desire, but an ardent longing, on the
part of the wealthier classes to resolve the great problem. Why,
then, is there no movement on the part of our Legislative Assemblies?
Because they are ignorant. Political Economy proposes to them this
solution:—«Public Justice»,—«Private Charity». But they go off upon a
wrong scent, and, obeying socialist influences, without being aware
of the fact, they give charity a place in the statute-book, thereby
banishing justice from it, and destroying by the same act private
charity, which is ever prompt to recede before a compulsory poor-rate.
Why, then, do our legislators thus run counter to all sound notions?
Why do they not leave things in their proper place,—Sympathy in its
natural domain, which is Liberty,—Justice in its own, which is Law?
Why do they not leave law to do its own exclusive work in furthering
justice? Is it that they have no love of justice? No; it is that they
have no confidence in it. Justice is Liberty and Property. But they
are socialists without knowing it; and for the progressive diminution
of poverty, and the indefinite expansion of wealth, let them say what
they will, they have no faith either in liberty or property, nor,
consequently, in justice. This is why we see them, in the sincerity
of their hearts, seeking the realization of what is Good by the
perpetual violation of what is Right.
‹Natural social laws› are the phenomena, taken in the aggregate, and
considered in reference both to their motives and their results,
which govern the transactions of men in a state of freedom.
That being granted, the question is, Are we to allow these laws to
act, or are we to hinder them from acting?
The question, in fact, comes to this:
Are we to leave every man master of his liberty and property, his
right to produce, and exchange his produce, as he chooses, whether
to his benefit or detriment; or are we to interfere by means of
law, which is Force, for the protection of these rights? Or, can we
hope to secure a greater amount of social happiness by violating
liberty and property, by interfering with and regulating labour, by
disturbing exchanges, and shifting responsibility?