From the foregoing review it might appear to be the natural conclusion
that the economic element in the present war is practically negligible.
By far the greater proportion of the trade relations of the world--and
the relations most significant to the general welfare--obtain between
the very nations that are now endeavoring to destroy one another. The
opportunities for concessionary capital that could be secured by any
nation, if completely victorious, can hardly be equivalent to the
losses of the far more important industrial capital at home. It is
certain that if all capital had been conscious of its interest, and the
question of peace or war had been left to capital, each hundred dollars
having one vote, there would have been no war. There is a war: costly
demonstration to the Socialists that capital does not, as alleged,
enjoy control of modern political society.
Before we accept this view, however, let us look somewhat more closely
upon the structure of capital as a social economic force. We shall
find that it is not homogeneous, but embraces two elements differing
widely in character. The one, which we may denominate capital proper,
is characterized by cautious calculation, by a preference for sure
if small gains, to dazzling winnings. The other, which we may call
speculative enterprise, is characterized by a readiness to take
risks, a thirst for brilliant gains. The relative political power
of the two elements, as we shall see, is not proportioned to their
respective pecuniary volumes. Accordingly, altho it may easily enough
be demonstrated that the majority interest of European capital has
been seriously prejudiced by the present war, it does not follow that
a large share of the responsibility for the war may not be fixed upon
capital. The minority interest may have determined a majority vote.
Capital proper thrives best in a settled order of society, where the
risks of loss are at a minimum. It accepts favors from government,
to be sure, but politics is no part of its game; peace, and freedom
from disturbing innovations, are its great desiderata. Speculative
enterprise, on the other hand, thrives best in the midst of disorder.
Its favorite field of operations is the fringe of change, economic
or political. It delights in the realm where laws ought to be, but
have not yet made their appearance. To control the course of legal
evolution, to retard it or divert it, are its favorite devices for
prolonging the period of rich gains. Politics, thus, is an essential
part of the game of speculative enterprise.
At the outset of the modern era, speculative enterprise quite
overshadowed capital proper. Colonial trade, government contracts,
domestic monopolies were the chief sources of middle class fortunes.
But with the progress of industry, slow, plodding capital has been
able steadily to encroach upon the field of enterprise, or to create
new fields of its own. In our own society the promoter of railway, and
public utilities, the exploiter of public lands, the trust organizer,
are as prominent, relatively, as in any modern nation. Quantitatively
their interests are, however, greatly inferior to those of the trader,
manufacturer, banker, the small investor and the farmer, to whom a ten
per cent return is a golden dream, and twenty per cent a temptation
sent by the Evil One.
But quantitatively inferior as the speculative capitalist really is,
his hold upon the popular imagination is vastly more powerful than that
of his slow-going colleague. Say that an employer of this type prefers
to spend money on machine guns to repress strikes rather than in better
wages: instantly it is declared by all the radicals of the earth that
such is the general spirit of capitalism. No radical is able to keep
clearly in mind that the overwhelming majority of employers are doing
their best to keep their working forces contented, and are succeeding
fairly well. The radicals, however, are not the only persons whose
minds are overcrowded with the doings of the speculative capitalist.
You and I read eagerly the lives of Jay Gould, Oakes Ames, Harriman
and Morgan, feeling that somehow we are thereby brought nearer to the
spirit of modern life. We find it impossible to sustain an interest in
the account of the life of James Metzger, grocer, who set out in life
worth ten thousand, and by faithful attendance upon his customers,
without ever once taking a risk, ended life with an estate of one
hundred thousand. James Metzger is a type of the thousands making up
the ranks of capital proper. His story is told in statistics, which you
and I won’t read.
We may love or we may hate the speculative capitalist, but at all
events we admire him. We admire him when he works for the public
interest, and we admire him when his efforts are subversive of the
public good. We admired Harriman when he built the Salt Lake cut-off,
and we admired him when he cut the Alton melon. Now, is it to be
supposed that the speculative capitalist does not turn this popular
admiration to use as a political force, since politics is a part of his
game? Inconceivable! As compared with his brother of the small profits
and quick return, he enjoys a plural vote in our political scheme.