CHAPTER VI

WHAT IS TO BE DONE

I

In the foregoing chapters I have intimated that every phase of the

question of freedom for women is bound up with the larger question

of human freedom. If it is freedom that women want, they can not be

content to be legally equal with men; but having gained this equality

they must carry on their struggle against the oppressions which

privilege exercises upon humanity at large by virtue of an usurped

economic power. All human beings, presumably, would gain by freedom;

but women particularly stand to gain by it, for as I have shown, they

are victims of special prepossessions which mere legal equality with

men may hardly be expected to affect.

If, on the other hand, it is dominance that they desire, they might,

indeed, conceivably attain this without freedom; but one can not see

much encouragement for that wish in the present trend of affairs.

Before women could dominate, they would not only have to overcome

the prejudices, superstitions, and legal disabilities which have

contributed to their subjection; but they would also have to get the

upper hand of men economically. They would have to manœuvre themselves

into that advantage in opportunity which men at present enjoy. One

can hardly see how this could be brought about except by some kind of

_coup d’état_, for the tendency of modern legislation, as I have shown,

far from being calculated to enlarge the scope of women’s economic

activity, is likely rather to narrow it; nor is it entirely probable

that the establishment of mere legal equality would count for much in

the premises, for the courts may always decide that any legislation

designed for the Larger Good is valid even though it may clash with

the principle of equal rights.[30] Suppose, however, that the momentum

gathered by the woman’s movement should carry society through a period

of sex-equality and bring it out on the other side--the side of female

domination--then men and women would simply have exchanged places,

and the social evils which now afflict mankind would remain, _mutatis

mutandis_. Women would be more nearly free than men, as men are now

more nearly free than women; but no one would be really free, because

real freedom is not a matter of the shifting of advantage from one

sex to the other or from one class to another. Real freedom means the

disappearance of advantage, and primarily of economic advantage. It

can not be too often repeated that political and social freedom are

unattainable unless and until economic freedom has been attained--but

this is not a concern of either sex or class. In order to live, women,

like men, must eat; to eat, they, like men, must labour; to labour,

they, like men, must have opportunity. Control of men’s and women’s

economic opportunity, therefore, means control of their livelihood,

and control of men’s and women’s livelihood means control of men and

women. Real freedom, therefore, does not come in sight of either men

or women until this control is abated; that is to say, until (speaking

in technical terms) the two active factors in production, capital and

labour, which are _pro tanto_ sexless, have free access to the passive

factor, natural resources--in other words, until the private monopoly

of natural resources is dissolved.

If the struggle of women to rid themselves of their peculiar

disabilities were to turn out into an attempt to dominate men as men

have for so long dominated women, one could perfectly understand

the psychology behind such an attempt. With the exception of a few

individuals, humankind has thus far achieved no very high idea of

freedom. The ambition of subject classes has never gone much beyond

the desire to enjoy the privileges usurped by their masters. They

have resented being dominated, but not domination; they have had no

repugnance to the thought of dominating others. Their psychology was

very well summed up by _Punch_, in the remark of one old market-woman

to another (I quote from memory): “You see, Mrs. ----, when we have a

Labour Government we’ll all be equal, and then I shall have a servant

to do my work for me.” It is because of this myopic view of the nature

of freedom that all revolutions have been mere scrambles for advantage,

and have accomplished nothing more than a shifting of power from one

class to another, or as John Adams said, “a mere change of impostors.”

If the woman’s movement should resolve itself into a similar scramble,

it would be unfortunate but not surprising, for women may hardly be

expected to rise at once above the retaliatory spirit which is one of

the common curses of humanity.

They would have good _ex parte_ arguments ready to their tongue; many

an argument, indeed, which has been advanced to defend their subjection

might be effectively turned around. Their part in parenthood for

example, has long been held to justify their subjection under the

guise of protection in this function. It would be equally logical to

argue that women, as mothers of the race, should dominate the family

because, as givers of life, they have a deeper personal interest and

a greater natural right in their children than men have. It might be

argued that they should control all public affairs because of the

greater understanding of the value of human life and deeper interest

in the welfare of humanity that motherhood brings. One often hears the

argument--which no amount of female bloodthirst in time of war ever

seems to make effectively ridiculous--that if women were in power there

would be no wars, because they, knowing the cost of giving life, would

not consent to its wilful wholesale destruction. The doctrine that

women are closer to the race than men is really dangerous to those who

now preach it; for it affords the best kind of basis for the contention

that women should dominate in all matters concerning the race--and all

human affairs may be held to concern the race in one way or another.

Perhaps the best argument for the domination of women is that if

society, like parliamentary government, must for ever contemplate a

mere sterile succession of outs and ins, it is time that women had

their innings. But the analogy with the parliamentary system goes

further. Public faith in the parliamentary principle has waned almost

to the disappearing-point, and the system has suffered wholesale

discredit, because it became slowly but surely evident that what

actually kept them up was “the cohesive power of public plunder.”

If women took what might be called by analogy the political view of

their right to their innings, and let it animate them in a scuffle for

predominance, the general reaction would be similar. In a matter of

this kind, great numbers of people would be found objective enough to

glance at such an effort and pass it by in disapproval of the waste of

energy involved in bringing about a readjustment that promised nothing

better than a shifting of the incidence of injustice. Women would thus

forfeit a great deal of sympathy, and at the same time probably create

even more antagonism than they have thus far had to face. They would

place themselves in a position similar to that of organized labour,

which is so intent on contending for what it conceives to be its own

interest--a position of advantage in bargaining on wages and conditions

of labour--that by the narrowness of its policy it antagonizes a great

deal of public sentiment which must inevitably be enlisted on its

behalf if it undertook to contend for the general interest, in which

its own is included, and in the service of which its own is bound, in

the long run, to be best served.

What the nature of this general interest is, I have already intimated.

It is economic, and it can be advanced only through the establishment

of an order of society in which every human being shall enjoy the

natural right to labour and to enjoy all that his labour produces.

It is upon mankind’s security in this right that human freedom,

in whatever mode or aspect--social, philosophical, political,

religious--primarily depends.

The right to labour and to enjoy the fruits of one’s labour means

only the right of free access to the source of subsistence, which is

land.[31] If access to that source may be arbitrarily denied, the right

to labour is denied, and the opportunity to get one’s living becomes

a privilege which may be withheld or granted as suits the need or

convenience of the person who bestows it, and wholly on his own terms.

If access may be had only on the payment of tribute, the condition

abrogates the right to enjoy the fruit of one’s labour, for the tribute

consumes a share of it.

While access to land is free, no one need know want; for he may always

get his living by applying his labour to natural resources “on his

own.” He may always, that is, work for himself instead of depending

for his living on the chance to work for an employer. Under such

conditions, moreover, no one need content himself, as the labourer

is forced to content himself at present, with a small share of what

his labour produces, for as Turgot pointed out a century and a half

ago, he can always demand of an employer the full equivalent of what

he could earn by working for himself. It is clear that under such an

economic system, the share of the capitalist in any product would

amount only to a fair competitive return on his actual investment.

Under the present system the capitalist often enjoys both directly and

indirectly the advantage of monopoly, which enables him to appropriate

an unfair proportion of his workers’ labour-product. He is a direct

beneficiary of monopoly when he holds legal title to the source of

his product--cultivable land, mines, forests, water-power--or where

he holds franchises or profits by protective tariffs or embargoes.

He is an indirect beneficiary when he profits by the competition

for work among workers whom monopoly has deprived of free access to

land. The steel-trust, as I have remarked, is a striking example of a

capitalist organization which benefits both directly and indirectly by

monopoly. On the one hand, it monopolizes and holds out of access vast

mining-properties, and monopolizes the home market through a protective

tariff. On the other, it levies tribute on labour by virtue of the

scarcity of opportunity created by monopoly in general.

Another excellent instance of this dual advantage is furnished by the

railways of this country. Not only have they received governmental

land-grants worth enough to cover their construction-costs many times

over, but they hold a valuable franchise-monopoly in the exclusive

right to do business over a long continuous strip of land called their

“right of way”; by means of which monopoly they drain the commerce

of a vast area as a river drains its waters. Through the enormous

wealth which these monopolies have enabled them to accumulate, they

have been able to influence governmental policy in ways designed to

enhance their privileges; for example, they have been able to curtail

water-transportation and thus reduce competition. They have profited by

tariffs, as through the emergency-law some years ago, which raised the

tariff on wheat just enough to cover the difference between the cost

of landing a bushel of wheat from the Argentine at one of our Eastern

ports, and the rate for transporting it by railway from our Western

wheat-fields. Through the Interstate Commerce Commission, of which they

captured control almost as soon as it was formed, they are allowed

to levy rates which represent not the cost of transportation but the

amount which can be exacted for it. So much for their direct benefit

from monopoly. Indirectly they benefit in the same way as any other

capitalist, through the opportunity to exploit a labour-surplus created

and maintained by monopoly; and while they are somewhat hindered in

making the most of this opportunity by the effectiveness of defensive

organization among their skilled employees, they have a pretty free

hand with their thousands of unskilled workers, and manage on the whole

to do very well out of them.

Even where the capitalist is not himself to any significant extent a

monopolist, he derives great benefit from monopoly, for it is thanks to

the monopolist of natural resources that he is able to keep labourers

at, or very near, the margin of subsistence. He is not always, however,

undisturbed in the enjoyment of his advantage; for he may be himself

quite as much at the mercy of monopoly as the workers he exploits.

The tenant-farmer affords an excellent example of this. He is the

capitalist in the farming-industry, who pays to the land-monopolist

tribute in the form of rent, to the railways tribute in exorbitant

freight-rates on his implements and products, to the manufacturers of

his implements tribute in the form of tariffs. He furnishes the capital

necessary for operating the farm, pays the wages of such labour as he

may require, and takes for himself what is left after all these charges

have been met, which in this country is so little that it does not

suffice to pay him both interest on his capital and wages for his own

labour--a condition which explains the steady drift of our population

from the farms to the cities, and which also accounts for the

extraordinary fact that agriculture, which is in volume our greatest

industry is, _qua_ industry, bankrupt. All the money in farming is now,

and for some time has been, in the rise of land-values. It is evident,

then, that save where capital and monopoly are united, capital as well

as labour is victimized by monopoly. This is one of the most important

facts of our system, and almost everyone overlooks it. The whole

producing organization is levied upon by a power which itself performs

no service whatever in return for the wealth that it appropriates;

which is, on the contrary, an incubus on the producing organization.

To put this statement more clearly, the monopolist, whose control of

the sources of production makes his exactions inescapable, is limited

in those exactions only by the amount that the traffic will bear. If a

condition arises which makes a certain kind of production especially

desirable, there will naturally be a pressure of people desiring to

undertake that kind of production, and the monopolist who controls its

source will exact in payment for access to that source an amount fixed

by the number of competitors seeking access. He is thus able to absorb

all the returns of the industry which depends on his monopoly, except

just so much as is necessary to encourage people to keep on with it.

For example, during the war the owners of our Western wheat-lands, who

had been demanding one-third of the crop in rent, raised the amount to

two-fifths, because at the price fixed by the Government wheat-growing

was profitable and there were many would-be producers seeking access to

wheat-lands. The same condition was reflected in the selling price of

land. Farms were sold and resold at advancing prices until land that

had sold before the war for sixty-five dollars an acre was bringing

two hundred. During the period of deflation thousands of acres bought

on mortgages reverted from one buyer to another until the original

owner had back his land plus whatever profit he had had from its sale.

All this raising of rents and this buying and selling at inflated

prices, did nothing for production, obviously, except to drain off the

lion’s share of its proceeds into the pocket of the monopolist; for all

speculative values must necessarily be paid finally out of production,

since there is no other source for them to come from. The producing

organization thus carries an enormous load of people who draw their

living from it and give neither goods nor services in return; who live,

that is to say, by appropriating the labour-products of others without

compensation--in other words, by legalized theft.

As monopoly extends and tightens its grip on the sources of production,

it is enabled to exact an increasing share of the proceeds, until

the point is reached where industry can no longer meet its demands

and continue to pay interest and wages. For example, so long as this

country had a frontier, the monopolist was in no position to exact a

very great share of production, for the producer had the alternative

of pushing on to the margin of cultivation where there were as yet

no landlords to support. The monopolist, therefore, could exact no

more than the difference between what a man might earn in a sparsely

settled country, remote from markets, and what he could earn by

carrying on production in a more thickly settled and more nearly

monopolized region. So long as this condition endured, production in

this country was able to pay tribute to monopoly and still pay the

capitalist a fairly good rate of interest and the labourer a fairly

good wage. But since the late nineteenth century, when the frontier

was closed, all the best of the country’s land and natural resources

being legally occupied, monopoly has been able to exact an ever greater

share of production; for while monopoly progresses, the population

grows, and competitive demand for access to the source of production

increases; and these two causes combine to cut down free economic

opportunity to the disappearing point. Thus it seems only a matter of

time until production will break down under the exactions of monopoly

and revolution and readjustment will follow. The breakdown has already

begun in the basic industry, agriculture, for, as I have stated above,

the tenant farmer is no longer able to meet the charges of monopoly

and still earn interest and wages. Therefore our agrarian population,

literally starved off the land, is steadily drifting to the cities, to

swell the numbers of workers who crowd the industrial labour-market.

This is to say that our civilization is dying at the root; and this

having presently grown too rotten to nourish it or support it, a little

wind of revolution or foreign invasion will one day overturn it, as all

civilizations which have hitherto existed have been overturned by the

same cause. “_Latifundia_,” said Pliny, “_perdiderunt Romam_.”

This same economic system exists in all the great countries of the

world save Russia, where it broke down under the Czarist régime and has

not been re-established. It is farther advanced in the countries of

the old world than it is here, because this country is more recently

settled. This fact constitutes the only difference between the economic

order in the old world and that in the new--a difference in the degree

that exploitation has reached.

Wherever exploitation exists, whether in the new world or the old, it

exists by means of a governmental organization which its beneficiaries

control and use to protect their privileges against the expropriated

and exploited masses. There is general agreement among scholars that in

government, exploitation came first, and what we know as law and order

are its incidental by-products; and that however far the development

of these by-products may go, they are never allowed to interfere with

exploitation. “The State,” says Oppenheimer, “grew from the subjugation

of one group of men by another. Its basic justification, its _raison

d’être_, was and is the economic exploitation of those subjugated.”

Both the origin and the essential nature of the State remain perfectly

clear so long as the conquering class remains distinct from the subject

classes and keeps these in a state of vassalage, without freedom of

movement, and subject to transfer from one owner to another along with

the land on which they dwell. In our own age, they are quite evident

in the dealings of the Western powers with weak peoples, as in India

or the Philippine Islands, or the mandated territories under the

League of Nations, where foreign Governments, through their military

organizations, protect their nationals in an economic exploitation of

the native population, and themselves levy taxes upon the natives to

pay the costs of the process. The nature and purpose of the State are

clear, indeed, in any community where the owning and exploiting class

exercises direct control over the propertyless dependent classes

as more or less chattels. The landed aristocracy of Europe formerly

exercised this direct control, as their titles, now grown meaningless,

indicate.

But where the form of the State has undergone a change which precludes

this direct control by the owning class, the nature of the State, and

its essential function, are obscured. Under the republicanism which

succeeded the American and French revolutions, the expropriated classes

have gained freedom of movement, a limited freedom of opinion, and a

nominal share in the exercise of government. The peasant is no longer

bound to the soil he tills; he may leave it at will to seek his fortune

elsewhere--on the terms of another landlord. The owning classes no

longer directly exercise government or directly enjoy honours and

titles by virtue of ownership. The peoples of the Western world,

at least where parliamentarism has not broken down, have a nominal

freedom with little of the reality. Nominal freedom of movement is

worth little to the man who faces the alternative of being exploited

where he is, or being exploited elsewhere. Nominal freedom of opinion

is not extremely valuable when expression of opinion may cost one the

opportunity to earn one’s living; and the right to vote offers little

satisfaction when it means merely a right of choice between rival

parties and candidates representing exactly the same system of economic

exploitation.

The political revolution which followed the breakdown of feudalism did

the world its greatest service in launching the _idea_ of freedom; it

did nothing--or relatively very little--for its substance. Through its

agency the equal right of all human beings to “life, liberty, and the

pursuit of happiness” has come to be granted in theory though not in

fact; it remained for the Russian Revolution to proclaim the further

idea that the basis of this right is not political but economic. The

political revolution did more; by establishing political democracy,

it put into the hands of the people the power to achieve economic

democracy by peaceful means. But by that very act it obscured the

essential function of the State and the source of its power, which

remained clear as long as those who owned ruled directly by virtue

of ownership; and thus it hindered a clear perception of the causal

relation between privilege and slavery. By abolishing hereditary power,

it effected a redistribution of privilege, and at the same time forced

privilege to exercise its control of government by indirect means.

Privilege was no longer seated on the throne, but it remained, through

its control of economic opportunity, the power behind the throne;[32] a

power all the more difficult to dislodge now that it exercised control

without assuming responsibility. Republicanism has proved the futility

of dislodging a privileged class without abolishing privilege; for this

simply prepares the way for the rise of a new privileged class which

will use government to enforce its exploitation of the propertyless

class, in a different way, perhaps, but quite as effectively as its

predecessors.

The psychological effect of the political equality established under

republicanism is extremely demoralizing. As I have remarked, the

subject classes have never desired freedom so much as a chance at

the privileges that they see other people enjoy. Political equality,

with its breaking-down of class distinctions, creates an impression

of equality of opportunity--and indeed to the extent that government

maintains no disabling legal discriminations among members of the

enfranchised class,[33] it actually establishes equality. No member

of that class is excluded from the benefits of privilege by anything

save his inability to get possession of it; and this fact, especially

in a country where opportunity is comparatively plentiful, is more

likely to confirm people in their loyalty to a system under which

they stand even a dog’s chance to become beneficiaries of privilege,

than it is to stimulate an endeavour to abolish privilege altogether.

In this country the incalculable richness of natural resources and

the enormous wealth to be gained by speculative enterprise under a

government which gives full rein to monopoly, contributed immensely to

the corruption of the citizenry. Speculation became the normal course

of enterprise, the most approved method of money-getting; and the more

ruinously did the monopolist exploit the country’s resources, as Mr.

Veblen has pointed out, the greater the regard in which he was held

by his fellow citizens. Never before in the world’s history had so

many people a chance at the enjoyment of privilege as in the pioneer

period of American development. The country’s resources were gutted for

profit, not developed for use. The use-value of land was incidental

to its value as real estate. Every farmer became a speculator, and

consequently the margin of cultivation, instead of being pushed out

gradually in response to the natural increase in the country’s needs,

was extended artificially and with extreme rapidity, with the result

that farms were miles apart and unnecessary difficulties in marketing,

and in the maintenance of education and social life, were created.

The country resembled the modern city-addition of the real-estater,

with all the framework of settlement, waiting for the pressure of

population to enhance the selling-price of land. Not only was the

public mind corrupted by the apparently limitless opportunity to enjoy

privilege--not only was speculation confused with production--but

all this opportunity was blindly attributed to the blessings of

republicanism. “The greatest government on earth” came to be regarded

as the guardian of free opportunity for all citizens, in spite of the

very evident fact that no government which protects land-monopoly can

possibly maintain freedom of opportunity, for in the course of monopoly

all available natural resources are shortly pre-empted, and those

people who are born after occupation is complete will find nothing left

to pre-empt. Thus American patriotism took on a religious fervour, and

the corruption of the populace was complete.

The rise of industrialism has done as much as anything else to

engender misapprehension of the State’s essential nature, its chief

function, and the source of its power. It is significant that the

Physiocrats lived and observed the workings of the State before the

industrial era, in an agricultural country, where the relation between

land-monopoly and government was direct and inescapable; and that

Karl Marx lived and wrote after the rise of the factory-system, in a

highly industrialized country. The Physiocrats, for whom the basic

economic problem was unobscured, therefore attributed involuntary

poverty to its actual cause; while Marx, confusing capital’s fortuitous

advantage from monopoly with monopoly itself, laid the responsibility

at the door of capitalism. To be sure, Marx recognized and stated the

fact that expropriation must precede exploitation; but he did not

draw the obvious conclusion that the way to break capital’s power to

exploit the worker is by simple reimpropriation. At present there

is a general impression that the factory-system lured the population

into the cities, and thus caused the overcrowding that results in

scarcity of jobs and inadequacy of wage. As a matter of fact, the

factory-system found the cities already overcrowded with exploitable

labour. In England, for example, the Enclosures Acts had deprived the

people of what common land remained to them, and had driven them into

the cities where they lived in inconceivable filth and squalor, eking

out a miserable existence under the old family-system of industry.

The machine-system found all this expropriated and exploitable human

material ready to serve its ends--far more, indeed, than it needed,

as the riots among the workers deprived of their livelihood by its

labour-saving tools, plainly indicated. The industrial revolution,

then, did not produce the overcrowding of the labour-market; but the

capitalist of the revolution profited by an overcrowding that already

existed. He reaped indirectly the fruits of monopoly. He profited

likewise, and profits still, by every labour-saving device, for it

enabled him at once to dispense with some labourers and, because of

the increase of unemployment thus caused, to pay his remaining workers

less. Capital was thus enabled to appropriate much more than its

rightful share of production, and hence to amass enormous wealth, by

means of which it influenced government on behalf of its own further

enrichment. In this country, it has secured a system of protective

tariffs which amount to a governmental delegation of taxing-power to

the protected industries; it gives them a monopoly of the home-market

and enables them to add to the price of their product the amount of

the tariff which has been set against the competing foreign article.

Capital has found other ways of creating monopolies, such as the

combinations in restraint of trade at which the ineffectual Sherman

law was levelled. As the exactions of monopoly increase, and the

exploitation of labour nears the point of diminishing return, the

capitalist-monopolist embarks, with the protection of government,

on a policy of economic imperialism. He monopolizes the markets of

weak nations at the point of his Government’s bayonets. He invests

in foreign enterprises which offer high returns for himself and risk

of war for the Government which backs him--that is to say, for the

exploited masses at home who must support the Government and furnish

its soldiers. In short, he constitutes himself a menace to peace and

prosperity both at home and abroad; so that it is not to be wondered

at if people observing his sinister activities, take capital to be

the cause of the economic injustice from which it derives its power.

Yet, if natural resources were put freely in competition with industry

for the employment of labour, the inflamed fortunes of the capitalist

class would disappear. Monopoly having been abolished,[34] the

capitalist-monopolist would no longer exist, and the capitalist would

no longer be in a position to exact from production anything more than

his rightful interest--that is, as I have said, the amount fixed by

free competitive demand for the use of his capital.

There is yet another cause of confusion in the long-established custom

of regarding land as private property, whereas it is not, rightly

speaking, private property at all, but the source from which property

is produced by the combined efforts of labour and capital. The right

to property in wealth which has been produced, as, for instance, the

coat on one’s back, may be defended on the ground that it is the

product of one’s own labour, or has been acquired through exchange of

an equivalent amount of one’s own product; but the right to property

in land can not be defended on the same ground, because land is not a

labour-product. The distinction is simply between labour-made property

and law-made property. Under our present system of tenure, to be sure,

the purchase price of land--that is, the investment of capital that the

owner has made in order to get title--may represent human labour--but

this is merely to say that the owner has invested his capital in

privilege, or law-made property; that he has purchased, under

governmental guarantee, a certain delegation of taxing-power, precisely

as the investor in governmental securities purchases a governmental

guarantee that a certain share of future labour-products will be

taken from the producers and turned over to him. The fact that, under

political government, capital may be invested in privilege in no wise

alters the iniquitous nature of privilege, and a sound public policy

would disallow an investor’s plea of good faith _ex post facto_.[35]

Under a system which did not permit such investments, those people who

wished to put their capital to gainful use would invest it in the only

legitimate way, which is in productive enterprise.

It is, perhaps, partly because of the confusion of thought produced by

all these causes, that no revolution has ever abolished the exploiting

State and the privileges that it exists to secure. But it must also be

remembered that all revolutions have risen out of factional disputes

or class-wars, and that in the latter case, the chief interest of the

revolting class has been not to abolish privilege but to redistribute

it. The French Revolution, for instance, expropriated the land-owning

nobility, but its politicians dared not abolish private land-monopoly,

for the bourgeoisie which supported the revolution would not have

tolerated such an interference with their own enjoyment of privilege.

In one important respect the Russian Revolution is an exception to

this rule. It is a class-revolution, but its avowed ultimate purpose

is to abolish even that State-organization which itself at present

maintains.[36] It is too early for any forecast to be made concerning

the outcome of this attempt; but whether it succeeds or not, the

Russian Revolution has already performed an inestimable service to the

world in proclaiming that the nature of freedom is not political but

economic, and in refusing, as a State-organization, to use its power

for the maintenance of an idle, rent-consuming class, living by the

exploitation of labour at home or in spheres of influence abroad.

In order to abolish privilege it is not necessary, in a political

democracy, to wait for the economic breakdown which its exactions

inevitably bring about--that is to say, it is not necessary to wait

until the number of wasteful idlers that production must support shall

become so numerous and so wasteful that it can no longer meet their

exactions. The ballot has been a pretty ineffectual weapon in the hands

of the rank and file, but--so much must be said for republicanism--it

could be made effective. First, however, the rank and file would

have to learn what it is that this weapon should be used against--it

would have to become aware of the nature of real freedom, and to wish

real freedom to prevail. The power of privilege under republicanism

depends not only on its control of wealth, but much more upon its

control of thought and opinion. That a campaign of education among the

voters can seriously endanger the position of privilege was proved

in England during the great land-values campaign of 1914, which was

cut short by the war. But the task of education is not easy, because

of the conditions I have just been discussing, which obscure the

essential nature of privilege, and of the State. We have had in this

country a great deal of outcry against privilege, and it has aroused

considerable popular sympathy; but the zeal engendered thereby has not

advanced the cause of freedom, because the outcry was directed against

the capitalist and the exploiting power gained by his fortuitous

advantage from privilege, but not against privilege itself. The nature

of privilege was obscured. It is evidently necessary, then, if the

ballot is ever to be successfully employed against privilege, to know

what privilege means and to clear away all confusion about it, so that

the voters may see what is at fault in our economic system, and what

remedial steps are necessary.

The essential nature of freedom has been already shown. It comes out

in the abolition of monopoly, primarily monopoly of natural resources,

resulting in complete freedom of the individual to apply his productive

labour where he will. It is freedom to produce, and its corollary,

freedom to exchange--the _laissez-faire_, _laissez-passer_ of the

Physiocrats. How this freedom is to be obtained is not for me to say.

I am not a propagandist, nor do I regard the question as at present

so important as that of establishing a clear understanding of the

nature of freedom. When enough people come to see that the root of all

bondage, economic, political, social--even the bondage of superstition

and taboo--is expropriation, reimpropriation will not be long in

following; and it may be achieved by a method quite different from all

those which theorists have thus far devised. When people know what

they need, they are usually pretty resourceful about finding means to

get it; and so long as they do not know what they need, all the means

of securing it that can be suggested, however excellent, must remain

ineffective from the lack of sufficient will to use them.

II

In the foregoing chapters I have spoken of the effect that freedom

would have upon this or that phase of human relations. There is really

no field of human activity that would not be profoundly affected by

it. A system of free economic opportunity would exert upon the lives

of human beings precisely as great an influence as that exerted by the

present economic system: that is to say, their mode of life, their

education, their quality of spirit, their cast of thought, would all

be determined by their command of wealth, precisely as they now are.

But where the present economic system operates to place the great mass

of wealth at the command of a very small percentage of the population

and thus to keep the majority in an involuntary and oppressive poverty

unfavourably affecting body, mind and spirit in a thousand ways, a

system of free opportunity would place in the hands of every human

being all the wealth that his labour, freely employed, could produce,

and at the same time it would relieve productive labour from the heavy

burden of privilege. Thus that huge share of wealth which now goes

to maintain the privileged classes in luxurious idleness, and that

further huge share which supports vast bureaucracies and keeps up

armies and navies to secure the foreign investments of the privileged

classes, would be diverted to its proper use. The number of workers

would be augmented by all those privilegees and placeholders who

now live without producing;[37] but opportunity would be increased

in infinitely greater proportion; therefore these newcomers would

find no difficulty in supporting themselves. On the other hand, the

immense reduction in luxury and waste thus brought about would very

much shorten the hours of labour. The worker whose labour, in addition

to maintaining himself and his dependents, is supporting two or

three idlers and paying for a share of governmental waste besides,

must necessarily spend many more hours at work than the worker whose

exertions are required only for the support of himself and his natural

dependents. But while the labour of each producer would decrease,

production would be increased by the opening of new opportunities, by

the increase in number of the producers, and by the enhanced power of

consumption made possible through their greater command of wealth.

The redistribution which would follow upon the establishment of free

opportunity, and the curtailment of waste, would satisfy a share of

this new demand; but just as production and exchange, in a period of

comparative prosperity at present, are stimulated by the increased

consuming power of the public, so, when artificial restrictions on

production had been removed, the increased power of consumption which

would result would act as a permanent stimulus to production and

exchange.

I will not speculate about the conditions arising during the period

of adjustment to the new conditions of economic freedom. If bad,

they would be but temporary, and though they are often magnified as

arguments against freedom by those who either can not or do not wish to

see beyond them, they have no proper place in this discussion, which

is concerned only with the permanent effect of free opportunity on the

lives, spirits and minds of human beings. It may be doubted that the

intercalary hardships of the transition would be great; but if they

were to be twice as great as the most timorous would forecast them,

would they not be preferable to those attending the protraction of the

present system to its inevitable break-up? That is the real question.

Thomas Jefferson said that rather than the French Revolution should

fail, he would see half Europe perish, and “though but an Adam and Eve

were left in every country, and left free, it would be better than it

is now.”

Who can picture the profound alteration in the attitude of people

toward life and their fellow-beings, if they were but emancipated from

the fear of want which now besets all of humankind? Even the rich and

the well-to-do are not exempt from this fear; for an economic security

based on an unsound economic system is like those walks which are

thrown along the thin crust of earth among the geysers of Yellowstone

Park, where those who walk them are in danger that a misstep may plunge

them through the thin crust to perish in the scalding heat beneath.

While an economic system based upon the legalized robbery of one class

by another remains in force, the abyss of involuntary poverty will

always yawn for those who may lose their command of wealth through

their own incapacity for management, or through circumstances beyond

their control. It seems likely that an instinctive sense of this is at

least partly responsible for the constant effort of people already

well off to increase their fortunes. It is certainly responsible for a

great deal of effort to get wealth by dishonest means--that is to say,

by those forms of dishonesty which are without legal sanction. The fear

of want produces avarice, chicanery, fraud, servility, envy, suspicion,

distrust. It leads to unlegalized theft, to murder, to prostitution.

It produces a class of people who, in a society which denies free

opportunity and puts a premium on graft, live by their wits, and in

so doing often display an energy and ability which would be useful

to a society that offered it no opportunity save that for honest

and useful employment. Moreover, this fear of want keeps the great

majority of people constantly occupied with the means of existence,

when they should properly be devoting a large share of their time to

the fulfilment of its purpose, which is that enjoyment gained from

developing one’s spiritual capacities and pursuing spiritual interests.

Those thus preoccupied can not employ with either imagination or profit

what leisure they have. Rather, they will merely use their leisure to

overcome their weariness of themselves. Their pleasures will be mere

pastimes, of the kind that subvert thought and dull imagination. Thus

little scope is left for the higher activities of the spirit, and the

quality of life is impoverished.

The spiritual effects of the fear of want are naturally most clearly

observable in countries where it is most widespread and deep-rooted.

England offers a particularly good field for observation of these

phenomena, for economic exploitation by a conquering class which has

merged into a powerful owning aristocracy, is there advanced to the

point of breakdown; therefore all the results of economic exploitation

are present in overflowing measure. The most striking, perhaps, are

the servility and snobbery which find sanction even in the Church

catechism, in the passage admonishing candidates for confirmation to

order themselves lowly and reverently unto all their betters--that is

to say, those born to a higher place in the social order. The English

novelists, from the days of Richardson and Fielding down to the

present, have faithfully recorded the unlovely characteristics bred

in a people by the ever-present necessity of keeping an eye to the

main chance; by the knowledge that fortune may depend less on merit

and ability than on a servile currying of favour with those powerful

persons who, through the fortuitous circumstance of birth, are in

control of economic opportunity. Richardson was himself demoralized

by the social system to which the economic system had given rise. His

acceptance of arrogance in the owning class and abjectness in the

exploited, shows how acquiescence in injustice can corrupt even a man

of genius. “Pamela” is a veritable study in servility; an unconscious

and devastating exposition of the basic principle of English society.

Fielding, on the other hand, was too critical to be corrupted by

it, and his books are all the more valuable for the objectivity

with which he presents the demoralization that a predatory economic

system has produced. What an array of characters he parades before

his readers--avaricious, envious, suspicious, self-seeking, arrogant,

venal! Even the hero of his great novel, “Tom Jones,” is not above

prostituting himself to an elderly lady of wealth when he finds himself

in danger of want and with no more honest means of getting a living,

having been brought up as a gentleman, that is to say, an idler. This

greatest of English novelists was well aware of the effect produced on

the collective life of his nation by an arbitrary division of human

kind into “High people and Low people,” and he took occasion to comment

upon it with a penetrating satire.

Now the world being divided thus into people of fashion and

people of no fashion, a fierce contention arose between them; nor

would those of one party, to avoid suspicion, be seen publicly

to speak to those of the other, tho’ they often held a very good

correspondence in private ... but we who know them, must have

daily found very high persons know us in one place and not in

another, today and not tomorrow; ... and perhaps if the gods,

according to the opinions of some, made men only to laugh at them,

there is no part of our behavior which answers the end of our

creation better than this.

One might say that the profuseness of unamiable qualities with which

Fielding endows so many of his characters, was due to a peculiar humour

or pessimism in this writer, if one did not find those same qualities

plentifully distributed among the characters of his successors. Dickens

created a whole gallery of highly interesting and unadmirable folk, and

one finds such faithful counterparts in Thackeray, for example, or in

George Eliot, that they are to be explained not as the mere creation of

any author’s imagination, but as a product of the society in which he

lived and observed.

There is material for an excellent study of the relation of the

economic and social system to the literary art, in the important rôle

that money plays in English fiction. That intense preoccupation with

the means of existence which is enforced by the fear of want, has

profoundly affected the plots and characters of English novels. The

number of plots which hinge on someone’s attempt to get someone else’s

money, is astonishing. The number of men and women who either marry

or attempt to marry for money, is legion; and no English novelist has

the hardihood to settle his characters for life without providing them

with a living, generally through inheritance or the generosity of some

wealthy patron. It is significant that if they are going to make their

own fortunes they usually strike out to make them in the new world,

where there is some opportunity. The preoccupation with getting money,

not through industry but through inheritance, cadging, or chicanery,

is reduced to its lowest terms in the stories of W. W. Jacobs about

life along the waterfront of London. These entertaining and racy

stories, with monotonous regularity, present one theme, and that theme

is the attempt of one character to do another--usually his closest

associate--out of some trifling sum of money. It is interesting to note

that one of the striking differences between English and American

fiction is that where the former deals with money-getting the latter is

likelier to deal with money-making. The one represents a society where

opportunity is pretty thoroughly monopolized; the other a society in

which it is as yet somewhat less so.

It is not the fear of want alone which demoralizes and corrupts. In

a society where the greatest respect is paid to those who live in

idleness through legalized theft; where men of genius may be treated

like lackeys by those whose only claim to superiority is their command

of wealth; where industry and ability yield smaller returns than

flattery and servility; in such a society there is little to encourage

honesty and independence of spirit. So long as honour is paid to those

who live by other people’s labour, in proportion to their power of

commanding it, so long will praise of honesty, industry, and thrift

savour of hypocrisy, and so long will the mass of people be under small

temptation to cultivate these virtues; and so long, also, will the

moralists who seek to inculcate them be open to the same suspicion of

insincerity as are those bankers who stand to profit substantially by

the thrift they preach among depositors. There is something grimly

amusing in the complaints so frequently heard from those who live

in ease, about the shiftlessness of the working classes and their

dishonest workmanship; complaints which are well founded, perhaps, but

do not take into account the slight incentive that is furnished by the

knowledge that the profits of industry and honest workmanship will

be diverted into other pockets than those of the workers. If labour

takes every opportunity of giving as little as it can for as much as

it can get, one must remember that it but follows the example set by

the owning classes, an example that has yielded them rich returns both

in wealth and in the esteem of their fellow-men. Under a free economic

system no such demoralizing example would exist. The material rewards

of honesty, industry, and thrift would accrue to those who practised

these virtues; and since there would be no opportunity to gain esteem

through the appropriation of other people’s labour, those who wished

to enjoy it would be forced to depend on more worthy means, such as

ability, integrity, and uprightness in their dealings with other people.

In a free society, ignorance, vice and crime would tend to disappear.

We should have no people in high places whose large-scale theft

would make them fitter inmates for jails, and no people in jails for

those petty thefts to which need is a perennial incentive. Jails,

indeed, would be very little needed by such a society; for what with

the abolition of the State, with its long list of law-made crimes,

and the disappearance of those social conditions which are largely

responsible for the few infractions of moral law which constitute real

crime, there would be very few offenders to occupy them. I have already

remarked that need is a constant incentive to theft; it is also the

chief cause of ignorance; and ignorance and misery are fecund sources

of vice, as well as of the physical and mental degeneracy which result

in imbecility and idiocy. If need were removed, if every human being

were assured from birth of physical well-being and ample opportunity to

develop mentally to the full extent of his capacity, these distressing

results of involuntary poverty would not long exist to menace the peace

and health of communities and fill reformers and eugenists with alarm.

The cities where human beings are crowded together under conditions

subversive of health and decency would be gradually emptied of their

surplus population. At present they are largely asylums for the

expropriated, but when land was once more freely available they would

resume their natural character as centres of industry and exchange.

There would be no more centres of want, misery and vice, like centres

of infection, to menace the health and well-being of society. Man,

reclaimed by the land which is his natural home, would appear for

what he really is, a child of the earth, rather than an industrial

machine far removed from his rightful heritage of close, health-giving

connexion with the soil from which his sustenance comes. Life, in

short, having been placed on its natural basis, might be expected

to proceed along natural lines of development. Mankind, assured of

physical health, would progress steadily in health of mind and activity

of spirit; and being freed from its pressing need to take thought of

the morrow, it would have leisure to seek the kingdom of heaven--not

that heaven which the church promises as a future reward for orthodox

communicants, but the kingdom of heaven which “is within you,” the

happiness that comes from the harmonious development of the highest

faculties of body, mind and spirit, and their use in the promotion of a

beautiful individual and collective life. Superstition and intolerance

would disappear with the ignorance that produces them. Thought would

no longer be hampered either by fear or the consciousness of dependence

on an order of things unfit to bear the light of reason; but every

human being would be free to exercise that independence of mind

that only the most courageous or the most securely placed may allow

themselves at present. The long story of martyrdom for opinion would

come to an end when freedom of opinion no longer threatened a vested

interest in the perpetuation of injustice. Thus that “progressive

humanization of man in society” which is civilization in the highest

sense, would be in a way to be promoted as it has never been promoted

in any society of which the world has knowledge.

III

Theoretically, it might still be possible for free economic opportunity

and its benefits to exist for men only or for women only; but in

order to exclude a whole sex from participation in them, it would be

necessary to reduce its members to the status of chattels. Now, to

reduce half of humanity to slavery is practically unthinkable; it would

necessitate a reversion to an order of thought that has largely been

outgrown; for all social injustice, in the last analysis, is founded in

an ignorance and prejudice which cause even its victims to acquiesce

in it. Indeed, without this acquiescence, social injustice may be

called impossible. “After the primary necessities of food and raiment,

freedom is the first and strongest want of human nature.” Because of

this instinct for freedom, the subjection of any class in society can

be continued only so long as that class itself fails clearly to realize

the injustice of its position; when it comes into a clear realization

of this injustice it will demand and eventually obtain the removal

of its disabilities. The subjection of women, such as it has been,

lasted only so long as women themselves acquiesced in it.[38] When they

developed a sense of injury, they began to demand the equality with

men which is their right, and ignorance, prejudice and superstition

are yielding before the demand. There is no reason to suppose that

women, having progressed thus far, would tolerate without a sharp

struggle any reversion to the injustice from which they have escaped.

Ignorance, prejudice, and superstition, moreover, are incompatible

with the enlightenment which will be necessary in order to secure

economic justice even for one-half of humanity; for that enlightenment

postulates not only the desire to enjoy freedom oneself, but the desire

that all people may enjoy it--that is, it postulates repudiation of the

idea of dominance. Thus society not only could not endure half slave,

half free; it would not wish so to endure.

Women are at present under certain disabilities which legal equality

with men can hardly be expected to remove. Those disabilities are:

1. Economic: Women are the victims of unjust discriminations in

industry and the professions in regard to training, opportunities,

tenure of employment, and wages. They are also victimized by

ill-considered “welfare” legislation sponsored by benevolent persons,

and by male workers whose purpose is to rid themselves of unwelcome

competition.[39]

If legal equality of the sexes were established, women might be able,

under the law, to force public industrial schools to give them equal

opportunities for training; they might also be able to enforce a demand

for equal pay with men for equal work. It is even conceivable that they

might force employers to lay off workers, during periods of depression,

on a proportional basis--men and women together, in proportion to

the number of each sex employed. All this, however, would entail

unremitting vigilance, and great effort in getting legal enactments;

it would also entail a great deal of governmental machinery, with all

the waste and ineffectiveness implied by the term; and it would leave

the general labour-problem precisely where it is at present. As for the

matter of opportunity, so long as industry is in the hands of private

concerns, I see no way by which employers can be forced under an

equal-rights law to employ women where they prefer to employ men. Nor

is there any certainty that legal equality will save working women from

having the race “safeguarded” at their expense. But if land were put

freely in competition with industry for the employment of labour, all

these disabilities would disappear. Women would enjoy the same freedom

as men to get their living by their labour, and since there would be no

such thing as a labour-surplus, their wage, like that of men, would be

the full product of their labour, and not that share which employers

or governmental boards thought fit to grant them. There would be no

need for reformers or other benevolent persons to secure them fair

hours and conditions of labour, or to get them excluded from hazardous

employments; for there is no way to make a worker accept onerous

conditions of labour from an employer if he have an ever-present

alternative of going out and creating more agreeable conditions by

working for himself. The worker whose independent position makes it

possible to refuse to work an excessive number of hours or under

unhealthful or dangerous or disagreeable conditions, will simply

refuse, and there will be an end of it. Thus employers, instead of

being prevented from exploiting women beyond a certain point, would be

rendered incapable of exploiting anyone in any degree. Nor would male

workers longer have any incentive to avail themselves of “protective”

legislation in order to reduce the competition of women with men in

the labour-market; for it is only where opportunity is artificially

restricted that there are “not enough jobs to go around.”

Certain direct consequences of the economic inferiority of women might

be expected to disappear when that inferiority no longer existed.

Foremost among these is the demoralizing temptation to get their

living by their sex. Prostitution would disappear from a society which

offered women ample opportunity to earn their living without doing

violence to their selective sexual disposition. Marriage would no

longer be degraded to the level of a means of livelihood, as it is

today for a great many women; for economic security would no longer

in any wise depend upon it. This being the case, the expectation now

put upon women to undertake marriage as a profession would disappear,

and marriage would come to be regarded in the light of a condition,

freely and voluntarily assumed by both sexes, who would jointly and

equally undertake its responsibilities. Under such circumstances, one

might confidently expect a further modification of institutionalized

marriage which would remove all those privileges and disabilities

now legally enforced on either party by virtue of the contract. The

idea that woman’s place is the home--which implies that marriage,

for her, necessarily involves acquiescence in a traditional sexual

division of labour and a traditional mode of life--with all its

disabling economic and psychological consequences, would disappear

from a society in which she was able freely to choose her occupation

according to her abilities. Thus, from the status of a class regarded

as being divinely ordained to be the world’s housekeepers, women would

emerge into the status of human beings, free to consult their interests

and inclinations in the ordering of their lives, without regard to

traditional expectations which, being no longer enforced by economic or

legal sanctions, would have no longer any power over them.

2. Psychological: Those prejudices and superstitions which now hamper

women in their development and in the ordering of their lives, might

be expected to disappear from a free society. In so far as they are

the consequences of woman’s subjection, they would yield before her

emergence into the status of a human being, sharing equally with man in

the freedom of opportunity that would result from the establishment of

economic justice, and the increased cultural advantages that freedom

of opportunity would bring. In so far as they are the outgrowth of

primitive ignorance and superstition, they would yield before the

increased intelligence and enlightenment which might be expected to

result from the abundance and leisure afforded to every human being

by economic freedom. Thus those artificial differentiations between

the sexes which have been built up by fear, by superstitions, and by

masculine dominance, would tend to disappear. Women would no longer

be regarded as extra-human beings endowed with superhuman powers for

good or ill; they would no longer be regarded exclusively or chiefly

as a function, being no longer forced to occupy that status; theories

of their mental and spiritual inferiority based on the results of

centuries of subjection would yield before a more humane and scientific

attitude; and as freedom promoted individuation among women, it would

become evident that the traditional notions concerning the feminine

nature were drawn from qualities which, having been bred by their

subjection, should have been regarded as characteristics not of a sex

but of a class.

Concerning Women · 第 6 / 7 章