THAT WHICH IS SEEN, AND THAT WHICH IS NOT SEEN by Frederic Bastiat

THAT WHICH IS SEEN THAT WHICH IS NOT SEEN

       In the department of economy, an act, a habit, an

institution, a law, gives birth not only to an effect, but to a series

of effects. Of these effects, the first only is immediate; it

manifests itself simultaneously with its cause -it is seen. The others

unfold in succession -they are not seen: it is well for us, if they

are foreseen. Between a good and a bad economist this constitutes

the whole difference -the one takes account of the visible effect; the

other takes account both of the effects which are seen, and also of

those which it is necessary to foresee. Now this difference is

enormous, for it almost always happens that when the immediate

consequence is favourable, the ultimate consequences are fatal, and

the converse. Hence it follows that the bad economist pursues a

small present good, which will be followed by a great evil to come,

while the true economist pursues a great good to come, -at the risk of

a small present evil.

       In fact, it is the same in the science of health, arts, and

in that of morals. It often happens, that the sweeter the first

fruit of a habit is, the more bitter are the consequences. Take, for

example, debauchery, idleness, prodigality. When, therefore, a man

absorbed in the effect which is seen has not yet learned to discern

those which are not seen, he gives way to fatal habits, not only by

inclination, but by calculation.

       This explains the fatally grievous condition of mankind.

Ignorance surrounds its cradle: then its actions are determined by

their first consequences, the only ones which, in its first stage,

it can see. It is only in the long run that it learns to take

account of the others. It has to learn this lesson from two very

different masters-experience and foresight. Experience teaches

effectually, but brutally. It makes us acquainted with all the effects

of an action, by causing us to feel them; and we cannot fail to finish

by knowing that fire burns, if we have burned ourselves. For this

rough teacher, I should like, if possible, to substitute a more gentle

one. I mean Foresight. For this purpose I shall examine the

consequences of certain economical phenomena, by placing in opposition

to each other those which are seen, and those which are not seen.

  I. -THE BROKEN WINDOW

       Have you ever witnessed the anger of the good shopkeeper, James

B., when his careless son happened to break a square of glass? If

you have been present at such a scene, you will most assuredly bear

witness to the fact, that every one of the spectators, were there even

thirty of them, by common consent apparently, offered the

unfortunate owner this invariable consolation -"It is an ill wind that

blows nobody good. Everybody must live, and what would become of the

glaziers if panes of glass were never broken?"

       Now, this form of condolence contains an entire theory, which

it will be well to show up in this simple case, seeing that it is

precisely the same as that which, unhappily, regulates the greater

part of our economical institutions.

       Suppose it cost six francs to repair the damage, and you say

that the accident brings six francs to the glazier's trade -that it

encourages that trade to the amount of six francs -I grant it; I

have not a word to say against it; you reason justly. The -lazier

comes, performs his task, receives his six francs, rubs Ms hands, and,

in his heart, blesses the careless child. All this is that which is

seen.

       But if, on the other hand, you come to the conclusion, as is

too often the case, that it is a good thing to break windows, that

it causes money to circulate, and that the encouragement of industry

in general will be the result of it, you will oblige me to call out,

"Stop there! your theory is confined to that which is seen; it takes

no account of that which is not seen."

       It is not seen that as our shopkeeper has spent six francs upon

one thing, he cannot spend them upon another. It is not seen that if

he had not had a window to replace, he would, perhaps, have replaced

his old shoes, or added another book to his library. In short, he

would have employed his six francs in some way, which this accident

has prevented.

       Let us take a view of industry in general, as affected by

this circumstance. The window being broken, the glazier's trade is

encouraged to the amount of six francs; this is that which is seen. If

the window had not been broken, the shoemaker's trade (or some

other) would have been encouraged to the amount of six francs; this is

that which is not seen.

       And if that which is -not seen is taken into consideration,

because it is a negative fact, as well as that which is seen,

because it is a positive fact, it will be understood that neither

industry in general, nor the sum total of national labour, is

affected, whether windows are broken or not.

       Now let us consider James B. himself. In the former

supposition, that of the window being broken, he spends six francs,

and has neither more nor less than he had before, the enjoyment of a

window.

       In the second, where we suppose the window not to have been

broken, he would have spent six francs on shoes, and would have had at

the same time the enjoyment of a pair of shoes and of a window.

       Now, as James B. forms a part of society, we must come to the

conclusion, that, taking it altogether, and making an estimate of

its enjoyments and its labours, it has lost the value of the broken

window.

       When we arrive at this unexpected conclusion: "Society loses

the value of things which are uselessly destroyed;" and we must assent

to a maxim which will make the hair of protectionists stand on end -To

break, to spoil, to waste, is not to encourage national labour; nor,

more briefly, "destruction is not profit."

       What will you say, Monsieur Industriel --what will you say,

disciples of good M. F. Chamans, who has calculated with so much

precision how much trade would gain by the burning of Paris, from

the number of houses it would be necessary to rebuild?

       I am sorry to disturb these ingenious calculations, as far as

their spirit has been introduced into our legislation; but I beg him

to begin them again, by taking into the account that which is not

seen, and placing it alongside of that which is seen. The reader

must take care to remember that there are not two persons only, but

three concerned in the little scene which I have submitted to his

attention. One of them, James B., represents the consumer, reduced, by

an act of destruction, to one enjoyment instead of two. Another

under the title of the glazier, shows us the producer, whose trade

is encouraged by the accident. The third is the shoemaker (or some

other tradesman), whose labour suffers proportionably by the same

cause. It is this third person who is always kept in the shade, and

who, personating that which is not seen, is a necessary element of the

problem. It is he who shows us how absurd it is to think we see a

profit in an act of destruction. It is he who will soon teach us

that it is not less absurd to see a profit in a restriction, which is,

after all, nothing else than a partial destruction. Therefore, if

you will only go to the root of all the arguments which are adduced in

its favour, all you will find will be the paraphrase of this vulgar

saying -What would become of the glaziers, if nobody ever broke

windows?

  II. THE DISBANDING OF TROOPS.

       It is the same with a people as it is with a man. If it

wishes to give itself some gratification, it naturally considers

whether it is worth what it costs. To a nation, security is the

greatest of advantages. If, in order to obtain it, it is necessary

to have an -army of a hundred thousand men, I have nothing to say

against it. It is an enjoyment bought by a sacrifice. Let me not be

misunderstood upon the extent of my position. A member of the assembly

proposes to disband a hundred thousand men, for the sake of

relieving the tax-payers of a hundred millions.

       If we confine ourselves to this answer -"The hundred millions

of men, and these hundred millions of money, are indispensable to

the national security: it is a sacrifice; but without this

sacrifice, France would be torn by factions, or invaded by some

foreign power," -I have nothing to object to this argument, which

may be true or false in fact, but which theoretically contains nothing

which militates against economy. The error begins when the sacrifice

itself is said to be an advantage because it profits somebody.

       Now I am very much mistaken if, the moment the author of the

proposal has taken his seat, some orator will not rise and say

-"Disband a hundred thousand men! do you know what you are saying?

What will become of them? Where will they get a living? Don't you know

that work is scarce everywhere? That every field is overstocked? Would

you turn them out of doors to increase competition, and weigh upon the

rate of wages? Just now, when it is a hard matter to live at all, it

would be a pretty thing if the State must find bread for a hundred

thousand individuals? Consider, besides, that the army consumes

wine, clothing, arms -that it promotes the activity of manufactures in

garrison townsthat it is, in short, the god-send of innumerable

purveyors. Why, any one must tremble at the bare idea of doing away

with this immense industrial movement."

       This discourse, it is evident, concludes by voting the

maintenance of a hundred thousand soldiers, for reasons drawn from the

necessity of the service, and from economical considerations. It is

these considerations only that I have to refute.

       A hundred thousand men, costing the tax-payers a hundred

millions of money, live and bring to the purveyors as much as a

hundred millions can supply. This is that which is seen.

       But, a hundred millions taken from the pockets of the

tax-payers, cease to maintain these taxpayers and the purveyors, as

far as a hundred minions reach. This is that which is not seen. Now

make your calculations. Cast up, and tell me what profit there is

for the masses?

       I will tell you where the loss lies; and to simplify it,

instead of speaking of a hundred thousand men and a million of

money, it shall be of one man, and a thousand francs.

       We will suppose that we are in the village of A. The recruiting

sergeants go their round, and take off a man. The tax-gatherers go

their round, and take off a thousand francs. The man and the sum of

money are taken to Metz, and the latter is destined to support the

former for a year without doing anything. If you consider Metz only,

you are quite right; the measure is a very advantageous one: but if

you look towards the village of A., you will judge very differently;

for, unless you are very blind indeed, you will see that that

village has lost a worker, and the thousand francs which would

remunerate his labour, as well as the activity which, by the

expenditure of those thousand francs, it would spread around it.

       At first sight, there would seem to be some compensation.

What took place at the village, now takes place at Metz, that is

all. But the loss is to be estimated in this way: -At the village, a

man dug and worked; he was a worker. At Metz, he turns to the right

about, and to the left about; he is a soldier. The money and the

circulation are the same in both cases; but in the one there were

three hundred days of productive labour; in the other, there are three

hundred days of unproductive labour, supposing, of course, that a part

of the army is not indispensable to the public safety.

       Now, suppose the disbanding to take place. You tell me there

will be a surplus of a hundred thousand workers, that competition will

be stimulated, and it will reduce the rate of wages. This is what

you see.

       But what you do not see is this. You do not see that to dismiss

a hundred thousand soldiers is not to do away with a million of money,

but to return it to the tax-payers. You do not see that to throw a

hundred thousand workers on the market, is to throw into it, at the

same moment, the hundred millions of money needed to pay for their

labour; that, consequently, the same act which increases the supply of

hands, increases also the demand; from which it follows, that your

fear of a reduction of wages is unfounded. You do not see that, before

the disbanding as well as after it, there are in the country a hundred

millions of money corresponding with the hundred thousand men. That

the whole difference consists in this: before the disbanding, the

country gave the hundred millions to the hundred thousand men for

doing nothing; and that after it, it pays them the same sum for

working. You do not see, in short, that when a tax-payer gives his

money either to a soldier in exchange for nothing, or to a worker in

exchange for something, all the ultimate consequences of the

circulation of this money are the same in the two cases; only, in

the second case, the tax-payer receives something, in the former he

receives nothing. The result is -a dead loss to the nation.

       The sophism which I am here combating will not stand the test

of progression, which is the touchstone of principles. If, when

every compensation is made, and all interests are-satisfied, there

is a national profit in increasing the army, why not enroll under

its banners the entire male population of the country?

  III. TAXES

       Have you ever chanced to hear it said "There is no better

investment than taxes. Only see what a number of families it

maintains, and consider how it reacts on industry; it is an

inexhaustible stream, it is life itself."

       In order-to combat this doctrine, I must refer to my

preceding refutation. Political economy knew well enough that its

arguments were not so amusing that it could be said of them,

repetitions please. It has, therefore, turned the proverb to its own

use, well convinced that, in its mouth. repetitions teach.

       The advantages which officials advocate are those which are

seen. The benefit which accrues to the providers is still that which

is seen. This blinds all eyes.

       But the disadvantages which the tax-payers have to get rid of

are those which are not seen. And the injury which results from it

to the providers, is still that which is not seen, although this ought

to be self-evident.

       When an official spends for his own profit an extra hundred

sous, it implies that a tax-payer spends for his profit a hundred sous

less. But the expense of the official is seen, because the act is

performed, while that of the tax-payer is not seen, because, alas!

he is prevented from performing it.

       You compare the nation, perhaps, to a parched tract of land,

and the tax to a fertilizing rain. Be it so. But you ought also to ask

yourself where are the sources of this rain and whether it is not

the tax itself which draws away the moisture from the ground and dries

it up?

       Again, you ought to ask yourself whether it is possible that

the soil can receive as much of this precious water by rain as it

loses by evaporation?

       There is one thing very certain, that when James B. counts

out a hundred sous for the tax-gatherer, he receives nothing in

return. Afterwards, when an official spends these hundred sous and

returns them to James B., it is for an equal value of corn or

labour. The final result is a loss to James B. of five francs.

       It is very true that often, perhaps very often, the official

performs for James B. an equivalent service. In this case there is

no loss on either side; there is merely in exchange. Therefore, my

arguments do not at all apply to useful functionaries. All I say is,

-if you wish to create an office, prove its utility. Show that its

value to James B., by the services which it performs for him, is equal

to what it costs him. But, apart from this intrinsic utility, do not

bring forward as an argument the benefit which it confers upon the

official, his family, and his providers; do not assert that it

encourages labour.

       When James B. gives a hundred pence to a Government officer,

for a really useful service, it is exactly the same as when he gives a

hundred sous to a shoemaker for a pair of shoes.

       But when James B. gives a hundred sous to a Government officer,

and receives nothing for them unless it be annoyances, he might as

well give them to a thief. It is nonsense to say that the Government

officer will spend these hundred sous to the great profit of

national labour; the thief would do the same; and so would James B.,

if he had not been stopped on the road by the extra -legal parasite,

nor by the lawful sponger.

       Let us accustom ourselves, then, to avoid judging of things

by what is seen only, but to judge of them by that which is not seen.

       Last year I was on the Committee of Finance, for under the

constituency the members of the opposition were not systematically

excluded from all the Commissions: in that the constituency acted

wisely. We have heard M. Thiers say -"I have passed my life in

opposing the legitimist party, and the priest party. Since the

common danger has brought us together, now that I associate with

them and know them, and now that we speak face to face, I have found

out that they are not the monsters I used to imagine them."

       Yes, distrust is exaggerated, hatred is fostered among

parties who never mix; and if the majority would allow the minority to

be present at the Commissions, it would perhaps be discovered that the

ideas of the different sides are not so far removed from each other,

and, above all, that their intentions are not so perverse as is

supposed. However, last year I was on the Committee -of Finance. Every

time that one of our colleagues spoke of fixing at a moderate figure

the maintenance of the President of the Republic, that of the

ministers, and of the ambassadors, it was answered-

       "For the good of the service, it is necessary to surround

certain offices with splendour and dignity, as a means of attracting

men of merit to them. A vast number of unfortunate persons apply to

the President of the Republic, and it would be placing him in a very

painful position to oblige him to be constantly refusing them. A

certain style in the ministerial saloons is a part of the machinery of

constitutional Governments."

       Although such arguments may be controverted, they certainly

deserve a serious examination. They are based upon the public

interest, whether rightly estimated or not; and as far as I am

concerned, I have much more respect for them than many of our Catos

have, who are actuated by a narrow spirit of parsimony or of jealousy.

       But what revolts the economical part of my conscience, and

makes me blush for the intellectual resources of my country, is when

this absurd relic of feudalism is brought forward, which it constantly

is, and it is favourably received too:-

       "Besides, the luxury of great Government officers encourages

the arts, industry, and labour. The head of the State and his

ministers cannot give banquets and soirees without causing life to

circulate through all the veins of the social body. To reduce their

means, would starve Parisian industry, and consequently that of the

whole nation.

    "I must beg you, gentlemen, to pay some little regard to

arithmetic, at least; and not to say before the National Assembly in

France, lest to its shame it should agree with you, that an addition

gives a different sum, according to whether it is added up from the

bottom to the top, or from the top to the bottom of the column.

       For instance, I want to agree with a drainer to make a trench

in my field for a hundred sous. Just as we have concluded our

arrangement, the tax-gatherer comes, takes my hundred sous, and

sends them to the Minister of the Interior; my bargain is at end,

but the Minister will have another dish added to his table. Upon

what ground will you dare to affirm that this official expense helps

the national industry? Do you not see, that in this there is only a

reversing of satisfaction and labour? A Minister has his table

better covered, it is true, but it is just as true that an

agriculturist has his field worse drained. A Parisian tavern-keeper

has gained a hundred sous,I grant you; but then you must grant me that

a drainer has been prevented from gaining five francs. It all comes to

this, -that the official and the tavern-keeper being satisfied, is

that which is seen; the field undrained, and the drainer deprived of

his job, is that which is not seen. Dear me! how much trouble there is

in proving that two and two make four; and if you succeed in proving

it, it is said, "the thing is so plain it is quite tiresome," and they

vote as if you had proved nothing at all.

  IV. -THEATRES AND FINE ARTS

Ought the State to support the arts?

       There is certainly much to be said on both sides of this

question. It may be said, in favor of the system of voting supplies

for this purpose, that the arts enlarge, elevate, and harmonize the

soul of a nation; that they divert it from too great an absorption

in material occupations, encourage in it a love for the beautiful, and

thus act favourably on its manners, customs, morals, and even on its

-industry. It may be asked, what would become of music in France

without her Italian theatre and her Conservatoire; of the dramatic

art. without her Theatre-Francais; of painting and sculpture,

without our collections, galleries, and museums? It might even be

asked, whether, without centralization, and consequently the support

of fine arts, that exquisite taste would be developed which is the

noble appendage of French labour, and which introduces its productions

to the whole world? In the face of such results, would it not be the

height of imprudence to renounce this moderate contribution from all

her citizens, which, in fact, in the eyes of Europe, realizes their

superiority and their glory?

       To these and many other reasons, whose force I do not

dispute, arguments no less forcible may be opposed. It might, first of

all, be said, that there is a question of distributive justice in

it. Does the right of the legislator extend to abridging the wages

of the artisan, for the sake of adding to the profits of the artist?

M. Lamartine said, "If you cease to support the theatre, where will

you stop? Will you not necessarily be led to withdraw your support

from your colleges, your museums, your institutes, and your

libraries?" It might be answered, if you desire to support

everything which is good and useful, where will you stop? Will you not

necessarily be led to form a civil list for agriculture, industry,

commerce, benevolence, education? Then, is it certain that

government aid favours the progress of art?

       This question is far from being settled, and we see very well

that the theatres which prosper are those which depend upon their

own resources. Moreover, if we come to higher considerations, we may

observe, that wants and desires arise, the one from the other, and

originate in regions which are more and more refined in proportion

as the public wealth allows of their being satisfied; that

Government ought not to take part in this correspondence, because in a

certain condition of present fortune it could not by taxation

stimulate the arts of necessity, without checking those of luxury, and

thus interrupting the natural course of civilization. I may observe,

that these artificial transpositions of wants, tastes, labour, and

population, place the people in a precarious and dangerous position,

without any solid basis.

       These are some of the reasons alleged by the adversaries of

State intervention in what concerns the order in which citizens

think their wants and desires should be satisfied, and to which,

consequently, their activity should be directed. I am, I confess,

one of those who think that choice and impulse ought to come from

below and not from above, from the citizen and not from the

legislator; and the opposite doctrine appears to me to tend to the

destruction of liberty and of human dignity.

       But, by a deduction as false as it is unjust, do you know

what economists are accused of? It is, that when we disapprove of

Government support, we are supposed to disapprove of the thing

itself whose support is discussed; and to be the enemies of every kind

of activity, because we desire to see those activities, on the one

hand free, and on the other seeking their own reward in themselves.

Thus, if we think that the State should not interfere by taxation in

religious affairs, we are atheists. If we think the State ought not to

interfere by taxation in education, we are hostile to knowledge. If we

say that the State ought not by taxation to give a fictitious value to

land, or to any particular branch of industry, we are enemies to

property and labour. If we think that the State ought not to support

artists, we are barbarians who look upon the arts as useless.

       Against such conclusions as these I protest with all my

strength. Far from entertaining the absurd idea of doing away with

religion, education, property, labour, and the arts, when we say

that the State ought to protect the free development of all these

kinds of human activity, without helping some of them at the expense

of others, -we think, on the contrary, that all these living powers of

society would develop themselves more harmoniously under the influence

of liberty; and that, under such an influence no one of them would, as

is now the case, be a source of trouble, of abuses, of tyranny, and

disorder.

       Our adversaries consider, that an activity which is neither

aided by supplies, nor regulated by Government, is an activity

destroyed. We think just the contrary. Their faith is in the

legislator, not in mankind; ours is in mankind, not in the legislator.

       Thus M. Lamartine said, "Upon this principle we must abolish

the public exhibitions, which are the honour and the wealth of this

country." But I would say to M. Lamartine, -According to your way of

thinking, not to support is to abolish; because, setting out upon

the maxim that nothing exists independently of the will of the

State, you conclude that nothing lives but what the State causes to

live. But I oppose to this assertion the very example which you have

chosen, and beg you to remark, that the grandest and noblest of

exhibitions, one which has been conceived in the most liberal and

universal spirit -and I might even make use of the term humanitary,

for it is no exaggeration -is the exhibition now preparing in

London; the only one in which no Government is taking any part, and

which is being paid for by no tax.

       To return to the fine arts: -there are, I repeat, many strong

reasons to be brought, both for and against the system of Government

assistance. The reader must see, that the especial object of this work

leads me neither to explain these reasons, nor to decide in their

favour, nor against them.

       But M. Lamartine has advanced one argument which I cannot

pass by in silence, for it is closely connected with this economic

study. "The economical question, as regards theatres, is comprised

in one word -labour. It matters little what is the nature of this

labour; it is as fertile, as productive a labour as any other kind

of labour in the nation. The theatres in France, you know, feed and

salary no less than 80,000 workmen of different kinds; painters,

masons, decorators, costumers, architects, &c., which constitute the

very life and movement of several parts of this capital, and on this

account they ought to have your sympathies." Your sympathies! say,

rather, your money.

       And further on he says: "The pleasures of Paris are the

labour and the consumption of the provinces, and the luxuries of the

rich are the wages and bread of 200,000 workmen of every

description, who live by the manifold industry of the theatres on

the surface of the republic, and who receive from these noble

pleasures, which render France illustrious, the sustenance of their

lives and the necessaries of their families and children. It is to

them that you will give 60,000 francs." (Very well; very well. Great

applause.) For my part I am constrained to say, "Very bad! Very

bad!" Confining his opinion, of course, within the bounds of the

economical question which we are discussing.

       Yes, it is to the workmen of the theatres that a part, at

least, of these 60,000 francs will go; a few bribes, perhaps, may be

abstracted on the way. Perhaps, if we were to look a little more

closely into the matter, we might find that the cake had gone

another way, and that these workmen were fortunate who had come in for

a few crumbs. But I will allow, for the sake of argument, that the

entire sum does go to the painters, decorators, &e.

       This is that which is seen. But whence does it come? This is

the other side of the question, and quite as important as the

former. Where do these 60, francs spring from? and where would they go

if a vote of the Legislature did not direct them first towards the Rue

Rivoli and thence towards the Rue Grenelle? This is what is not

seen. Certainly, nobody will think of maintaining that the legislative

vote has caused this sum to be hatched in a ballot urn; that it is a

pure addition made to the national wealth; that but for this

miraculous vote these 60,000 francs would have been for ever invisible

and impalpable. It must be admitted that all that the majority can do,

is to decide that they shall be taken from one place to be sent to

another; and if they take one direction, it is only because they

have been diverted from another.

       This being the case, it is clear that the taxpayer, who has

contributed one franc, will no longer have this franc at his own

disposal. It is clear that he will be deprived of some gratification

to the amount of one franc; and that the workman, whoever he may be,

who would have received it from him, will be deprived of a benefit

to that amount. Let us not, therefore, be led by a childish illusion

into believing that the vote of the 60,000 francs may add any thing

whatever to the well-being of the country, and to the national labour.

It displaces enjoyments, it transposes wages -that is all.

       Will it be said that for one kind of gratification, and one

kind of labour, it substitutes more urgent, more moral, more

reasonable gratifications and labour? I might dispute this; I might

say, by taking 60,000 francs from the tax-payers, you diminish tile

wages of labourers, drainers, carpenters, blacksmiths, and increase in

proportion those of the singers.

       There is nothing to prove that this latter class calls for more

sympathy than the former. M. Lamartine does not say that it is so.

He himself says, that the labour of the theatres is as fertile, as

productive as any other (not more so); and this may be doubted; for

the best proof that the latter is not so fertile as the former lies in

this, that the other is to be called upon to assist it.

       But this comparison between the value and the intrinsic merit

of different kinds of labour, forms no part of my present subject. All

I have to do here is to show, that if M. Lamartine and those persons

who commend his line of argument have seen on one side the salaries

gained by the providers of the comedians, they ought on the other to

have seen the salaries lost by the providers of the taxpayers; for

want of this, they have exposed themselves to ridicule by mistaking

a displacement for a gain. If they were true to their doctrine,

there would be no limits to their demands for Government aid; for that

which is true of one franc and of 60,000 is true, under parallel

circumstances, of a hundred millions of francs.

       When taxes are the subject of discussion, Gentlemen, you

ought to prove their utility by reasons from the root of the matter,

but not by this unlucky assertion -"The public expenses support the

working classes." This assertion disguises the important fact, that

public expenses always supersede private expenses, and that

therefore we bring a livelihood to one workman instead of another, but

add nothing to the share of the working class as a whole. Your

arguments are fashionable enough, but they are too absurd to be

justified by anything like reason.

  V. PUBLIC WORKS

       Nothing is more natural than that a nation, after having

assured itself that an enterprise will benefit the community, should

have it executed by means of a general assessment. But I lose

patience, I confess, when I hear this economic blunder advanced in

support of such a project. "Besides, it will be a means of creating

labour for the workmen."

       The State opens a road, builds a palace, straightens a

street, cuts a canal; and so gives work to certain workmen -this is

what is seen: but it deprives certain other workmen of work, and

this is what is not seen.

       The road is begun. A thousand workmen come every morning, leave

every evening, and take their wages -this is certain. If the road

had not been decreed, if the supplies had not been voted, these good

people would have had neither work nor salary there; this also is

certain.

       But is this all? does not the operation, as a whole, contain

something else? At the moment when M. Dupin pronounces the emphatic

words, "The Assembly has adopted," do the millions descend

miraculously on a moon-beam into the coffers of MM. Fould and

Bineau? In order that the evolution may be complete, as it is said,

must not the State organise the receipts as well as the expenditure?

must it not set its taxgatherers and tax-payers to work, the former to

gather, and the latter to pay? Study the question, now, in both its

elements. While you state the destination given by the State to the

millions voted, do not neglect to state also the destination which the

taxpayer would have given, bat cannot now give, to the same. Then

you will understand that a public enterprise is a coin with two sides.

Upon one is engraved a labourer at work, with this device, that

which is seen; on the other is a labourer out of work, with the

device, that which is not seen.

       The sophism which this work is intended to refute, is the

more dangerous when applied to public works, inasmuch as it serves

to justify the most wanton enterprises and extravagance. When a

railroad or a bridge are of real utility, it is sufficient to

mention this utility. But if it does not exist, what do they do?

Recourse is had to this mystification: "We must find work for the

workmen."

       Accordingly, orders are given that the drains in the

Champ-de-Mars be made and unmade. The great Napoleon, it is said,

thought he was doing a very philanthropic work by causing ditches to

be made and then filled up. He said, therefore, "What signifies the

result? All we want is to see wealth spread among the labouring

classes."

       But let us go to the root of the matter. We are deceived by

money. To demand the cooperation of all the citizens in a common work,

in the form of money, is in reality to demand a concurrence in kind;

for every one procures, by his own labour, the sum to which he is

taxed. Now, if all the citizens were to be called together, and made

to execute, in conjunction, a work useful to all, this would be easily

understood; their reward would be found in the results of the work

itself.

       But after having called them together, if you force them to

make roads which no one will pass through, palaces which no one will

inhabit, and this under the pretext of finding them work, it would

be absurd, and they would have a right to argue, "With this labour

we have nothing to do; we prefer working on our own account."

       A proceeding which consists in making the citizens cooperate in

giving money but not labour, does not, in any way, alter the general

results. The only thing is, that the loss would react upon all

parties. By the former, those whom the State employs, escape their

part of the loss, by adding it to that which their fellow-citizens

have already suffered.

       There is an article in our constitution which says: -"Society

favours and encourages the development of labour -by the establishment

of public works, by the State, the departments, and the parishes, as a

means of employing persons who are in want of work."

       As a temporary measure, on any emergency, during a hard winter,

this interference with the tax-payers may have its use. It acts in the

same way as securities. It adds nothing either to labour or to

wages, but it takes labour and wages from ordinary times to give them,

at a loss it is true, to times of difficulty.

       As a permanent, general, systematic measure, it is nothing else

than a ruinous mystification, an impossibility, which shows a little

excited labour which is seen, and bides a great deal of prevented

labour which is not seen.

VI.  MIDDLEMEN

       Society is the aggregate of the forced or voluntary services

which men perform for each other; that is to say, of public services

and private services.

       The former, imposed and regulated by the law, which it is not

always easy to change, even when it is desirable, may survive with

it their own usefulness, and still preserve the name of public

services, even when they are no longer services at all, but rather

public annoyances. The latter belong to the sphere of the will, of

individual responsibility. Every one gives and receives what he

wishes, and what he can, after a debate. They have always the

presumption of real utility, in exact proportion to their

comparative value.

       This is the reason why the former description of services so

often become stationary, while the latter obey the law of progress.

       While the exaggerated development of public services, by the

waste of strength which it involves, fastens upon society a fatal

sycophancy, it is a singular thing that several modern sects,

attributing this character to free and private services, are

endeavouring to transform professions into functions.

       These sects violently oppose what they call intermediates. They

would gladly suppress the capitalist, the banker, the speculator,

the projector, the merchant, and the trader, accusing them of

interposing between production and consumption, to extort from both,

without giving either anything in return. Or rather, they would

transfer to the State the work which they accomplish, for this work

cannot be suppressed.

       The sophism of the Socialists on this point is showing to the

public what it pays to the intermediates in exchange for their

services, and concealing from it what is necessary to be paid to the

State. Here is the usual conflict between what is before our eyes, and

what is perceptible to the mind only, between what is seen, and what

is not seen.

       It was at the time of the scarcity, in 1847, that the Socialist

schools attempted and succeeded in popularizing their fatal theory.

They knew very well that the most absurd notions have always a

chance with people who are suffering; malisunda fames.

       Therefore, by the help of the fine words, "trafficking in men

by men, speculation on hunger, monopoly," they began to blacken

commerce, and to cast a veil over its benefits.

       "What can be the use," they say, "of leaving to the merchants

the care of importing food from the United States and the Crimea?

Why do not the State, the departments, and the towns, organize a

service for provisions, and a magazine for stores? They would sell

at a return price, and the people, poor things, would be exempted from

the tribute which they pay to free, that is, to egotistical,

individual, and anarchical commerce."

       The tribute paid by the people to commerce, is that which is

seen. The tribute which the people would pay to the State, or to its

agents, in the Socialist system, is what is not seen.

       In what does this pretended tribute, which the people pay to

commerce, consist? In this: that two men render each other a mutual

service, in all freedom, and under the pressure of competition and

reduced prices.

       When the hungry stomach is at Paris, and corn which can satisfy

it is at Odessa, the suffering cannot cease till the corn is brought

into contact with the stomach. There are three means by which this

contact may be effected. 1st. The famished men may go themselves and

fetch the corn. 2nd. They may leave this task to those to whose

trade it belongs. 3rd. They may club together, and give the office

in charge to public functionaries. Which of these three methods

possesses the greatest advantages? In every time, in all countries,

and the more free, enlightened, and experienced they are, men have

voluntarily chosen the second. I confess that this is sufficient, in

my opinion, to justify this choice. I cannot believe that mankind,

as a whole, is deceiving itself upon a point which touches it so

nearly. But let us consider the subject.

       For thirty-six millions of citizens to go and fetch the corn

they want from Odessa, is a manifest impossibility. The first means,

then, goes for nothing. The consumers cannot act for themselves.

They must, of necessity, have recourse to intermediates, officials

or agents.

       But, observe, that the first of these three means would be

the most natural. In reality, the hungry man has to fetch his corn. It

is a task which concerns himself; a service due to himself. If another

person, on whatever ground, performs this service for him, takes the

task upon himself, this latter has a claim upon him for a

compensation. I mean by this to say that intermediates contain in

themselves the principle of remuneration.

       However that may be, since we must refer to what the Socialists

call a parasite, I would ask, which of the two is the most exacting

parasite, the merchant or the official?

       Commerce (free, of course, otherwise I could not reason upon

it), commerce, I say, is led by its own interests to study the

seasons, to give daily statements of the state of the crops, to

receive information from every part of the globe, to foresee wants, to

take precautions beforehand. It has vessels always ready,

correspondents everywhere; and it is its immediate interest to buy

at the lowest possible price, to economize in all the details of its

operations, and to attain the greatest results by the smallest

efforts. It is not the French merchants only who are occupied in

procuring provisions for France in time of need, and if their interest

leads them irresistibly to accomplish their task at the smallest

possible cost, the competition which they create amongst each other

leads them no less irresistibly to cause the consumers to partake of

the profits of those realized savings. The corn arrives; it is to

the interest of commerce to sell it as soon as possible, so as to

avoid risks, to realize its funds, and begin again the first

opportunity.

       Directed by the comparison of prices, it distributes food

over the whole surface of the country, beginning always at the highest

price, that is, where the demand is the greatest. It is impossible

to imagine an organization more completely calculated to meet the

interest of those who are in want; and the beauty of this

organization, unperceived as it is by the Socialists, results from the

very fact that it is free. It is true, the consumer is obliged to

reimburse commerce for the expenses of conveyance, freight,

store-room, commission, &c.; but can any system be devised, in which

he who eats corn is not obliged to defray the expenses, whatever

they may be, of bringing it within his reach? The remuneration for the

service performed has to be paid also: but as regards its amount, this

is reduced to the small. est possible sum by competition; and as

regards its justice, it would be very strange if the artisans of Paris

would not work for the artisans of Marseilles, when the merchants of

Marseilles work for the artisans of Paris.

       If, according to the Socialist invention, the State were to

stand in the stead of commerce, what would happen? I should like to be

informed where' the saving would be to the public? Would it be in

the price of purchase? Imagine the delegates of 40,000 parishes

arriving at Odessa on a given day, and on the day of need; imagine the

effect upon prices. Would the saving be in the expenses? Would fewer

vessels be required, fewer sailors, fewer transports, fewer sloops, or

would you be exempt from the payment of all these things? Would it

be in the profits of the merchants? Would your officials go to

Odessa for nothing? Would they travel and work on the principle of

fraternity? Must they not live? must not they be paid for their

time? And do you believe that these expenses would not exceed a

thousand times the two or three per cent which the merchant gains,

at the rate at which he is ready to treat?

       And then consider the difficulty of levying so many taxes,

and of dividing so much food. Think of the injustice, of the abuses

inseparable for such an enterprise. Think of the responsibility

which would weigh upon the Government.

       The Socialists who have invented these follies, and who, in the

days of distress, have introduced them into the minds of the masses,

take to themselves literally the title of advanced men; and it is

not without some danger that custom, that tyrant of tongues,

authorizes the term, and the sentiment which it involves. Advanced!

This supposes that these gentlemen can see further than the common

people; that their only fault is, that they are too much in advance of

their age, and if the time is not yet come for suppressing certain

free services, pretended parasites, the fault is to be attributed to

the public, which is in the rear of socialism. I say, from my soul and

my conscience, the reverse is the truth; and I know not to what

barbarous age we should have to go back, if we would find the level of

Socialist knowledge on this subject. These modern sectarians

incessantly oppose association to actual society. They overlook the

fact, that society, under a free regulation, is a true association,

far superior to any of those which proceed from their fertile

imaginations.

       Let me illustrate this by an example. Before a man, when he

gets up in the morning, can put on a coat, ground must have been

enclosed, broken up, drained, tilled, and sown with a particular

kind of plant; flocks must have been fed, and have given their wool;

this wool must have been spun, woven, dyed, and converted into

cloth; this cloth must have been cut, sewed, and made into a

garment. And this series of operations implies a number of others;

it supposes the employment of instruments for ploughing, &c.,

sheepfolds, sheds, coal, machines, carriages, &e.

       If society were not a perfectly real association, a person

who wanted a coat would be reduced to the necessity of working in

solitude; that is, of performing for himself the innumerable parts

of this series, from the first stroke of the pickaxe to the last

stitch which concludes the work. But, thanks to the sociability

which is the distinguishing character of our race, these operations

are distributed amongst a multitude of workers; and they are further

subdivided, for the common good, to an extent that, as the consumption

becomes more active, one single operation is able to support a new

trade.

       Then comes the division of the profits, which operates

according to the contingent value which each has brought to the entire

work. If this is not association, I should like to know what is.

       Observe, that as no one of these workers has obtained the

smallest particle of matter from nothingness, they are confined to

performing for each other mutual services, and to helping each other

in a common object, and that all may be considered, with respect to

others, intermediates. If, for instance, in the course of the

operation, the conveyance becomes important enough to occupy one

person, the spinning another, the weaving another, why should the

first be considered a parasite more than the other two? The conveyance

must be made, must it not? Does not be who performs it devote to it

his time and trouble? and by so doing does he not spare that of his

colleagues? Do these do more or other than this for him? Are they

not equally dependent for remuneration, that is, for the division of

the produce, upon the law of reduced price? Is it not in all

liberty, for the common good, that these arrangements are entered

into? What do we want with a Socialist then, who, under pretence of

organizing for us, comes despotically to break up our voluntary

arrangements, to check the division of labour, to substitute

isolated efforts for combined ones, and to send civilization back?

Is association, as I describe it here, in itself less association,

because every one enters and leaves it freely, chooses his place in

it, judges and bargains for himself on his own responsibility, and

brings with him the spring and warrant of personal interest? That it

may deserve this name, is it necessary that a pretended reformer

should come and impose upon us his plan and his will, and as it

were, to concentrate mankind in himself?

       The more we examine these advanced schools, the more do we

become convinced that there is but one thing at the root of them:

ignorance proclaiming itself infallible, and claiming despotism in the

name of this infallibility.

       I hope the reader will excuse this digression. It may not be

altogether useless, at a time when declamations, springing from St.

Simonian, Phalansterian, and Icarian books, are invoking the press and

the tribune, and which seriously threaten the liberty of labour and

commercial transactions.

 VII. RESTRICTIONS

       M. Prohibant (it was not I who gave him this name, but M.

Charles Dupin) devoted his time and capital to converting the ore

found on his land into iron. As nature had been more lavish towards

the Belgians, they furnished the French with iron cheaper than M.

Prohibant, which means, that all the French, or France, could obtain a

given quantity of iron with less labour by buying it of the honest

Flemings; therefore, guided by their own interest, they did not fail

to do so, and every day there might be seen a multitude of

nail-smiths, blacksmiths, cartwrights, machinists, farriers, and

labourers, going themselves, or sending intermediates, to supply

themselves in Belgium. This displeased M. Prohibant exceedingly.

       At first, it occurred to him to put an end to this abuse by his

own efforts; it was the least he could do, for he was the only

sufferer. "I will take my carbine," said he; "I will put four

pistols into my belt; I will fill my cartridge box; I will gird on

my sword, and go thus equipped to the frontier. There, the first

blacksmith, nailsmith, farrier, machinist, or locksmith, who

presents himself to do his own business and not mine, I will kill,

to teach him how to live." At the moment of starting, M. Prohibant

made a few reflections which calmed down his warlike ardour a

little. He said to himself, "In the first place, it is not

absolutely impossible that the purchasers of iron, my countrymen and

enemies, should take the thing ill, and, instead of letting me kill

them, should kill me instead; and then, even were I to call out all my

servants, we should not be able to defend the passages. In short, this

proceeding would cost me very dear; much more so than the result would

be worth."

       M. Prohibant was on the point of resigning himself to his sad

fate, that of being only as free as the rest of the world, when a

ray of light darted across his brain. He recollected that at Paris

there is a great manufactory of laws. "What is a law?" said he to

himself. "It is a measure to which, when once it is decreed, be it

good or bad, everybody is bound to conform. For the execution of the

same a public force is organized, and to constitute the said public

force, men and money are drawn from the nation. If, then, I could only

get the great Parisian manufactory to pass a little law, 'Belgian iron

is prohibited,' I should obtain the following results: The

Government would replace the few valets that I was going to send to

the frontier by 20,000 of the sons of those refractory blacksmiths,

farmers, artisans, machinists, locksmiths, nailsmiths, and

labourers. Then, to keep these 20,000 custom-house officers in

health and good humour, it would distribute amongst them 25,000, 000

of francs, taken from these blacksmiths, nailsmiths, artisans, and

labourers. They would guard the frontier much better; would cost me

nothing; I should not be exposed to the brutality of the brokers,

should sell the iron at my own price, and have the sweet

satisfaction of seeing our great people shamefully mystified. That

would teach them to proclaim themselves perpetually the harbingers and

promoters of progress in Europe. Oh! it would be a capital joke, and

deserves to be tried."

       So M. Prohibant went to the law manufactory. Another time,

perhaps, I shall relate the story of his underhand dealings, but now I

shall merely mention his visible proceedings. He brought the following

consideration before the view of the legislating gentlemen:-

       "Belgian iron is sold in France at ten francs, which obliges me

to sell mine at the same price. I should like to sell at fifteen,

but cannot do so on account of this Belgian iron, which I wish was

at the bottom of the Red Sea. I beg you will make a law that no more

Belgian iron shall enter France. Immediately I raise my price five

francs, and these are the consequences: "For every hundred-weight of

iron that I shall deliver to the public, I shall receive fifteen

francs instead of ten; I shall grow rich more rapidly, extend my

traffic, and employ more workmen. My workmen and I shall spend much

more freely to the great advantage of our tradesmen for miles

around. These latter, having more custom, will furnish more employment

to trade, and activity on both sides will increase in the country.

This fortunate piece of money, which you will drop into my strong-box,

will, like a stone thrown into a lake, give birth to an infinite

number of concentric circles."

       Charmed with his discourse, delighted to learn that it is so

easy to promote, by legislating, the prosperity of a people, the

law-makers voted the restriction. "Talk of labour and economy," they

said, "what is the use of these painful means of increasing the

national wealth, when all that is wanted for this object is a Decree?"

       And, in fact, the law produced all the consequences announced

by M. Prohibant; the only thing was, it produced others which he had

not foreseen. To do him justice, his reasoning was not false, but only

incomplete. In endeavouring to obtain a privilege, he had taken

cognizance of the effects which are seen, leaving in the background

those which are not seen. He had pointed out only two personages,

whereas there are three concerned in the affair. It is for us to

supply this involuntary or premeditated omission.

       It is true, the crown-piece, thus directed by law into M.

Prohibant's strong-box, is advantageous to him and to those whose

labour it would encourage; and if the Act had caused the crownpiece to

descend from the moon, these good effects would not have been

counterbalanced by any corresponding evils. Unfortunately, the

mysterious piece of money does not come from the moon, but from the

pocket of a blacksmith, or a nail-smith, or a cartwright, or a

farrier, or a labourer, or a shipwright; in a word, from James B., who

gives it now without receiving a grain more of iron than when he was

paying ten francs. Thus, we can see at a glance that this very much

alters the state of the case; for it is very evident that M.

Prohibant's profit is compensated by James B.'s loss, and all that

M. Prohibant can do with the crown-piece, for the encouragement of

national labour, James B. might have done himself. The stone has

only been thrown upon one part of the lake, because the law has

prevented it from being thrown upon another.

       Therefore, that which is not seen supersedes that which is

seen, and at this point there remains, as the residue of the

operation, a piece of injustice, and, sad to say, a piece of injustice

perpetrated by the law!

       This is not all. I have said that there is always a third

person left in the back-ground. I must now bring him forward, that

he may reveal to us a second loss of five francs. Then we shall have

the entire results of the transaction.

       James B. is the possessor of fifteen francs, the fruit of his

labour. He is now free. What does he do with his fifteen francs? He

purchases some article of fashion for ten francs, and with it he

pays (or the intermediate pay for him) for the hundred-weight of

Belgian iron. After this he has five francs left. He does not throw

them into the river, but (and this is what is not seen) he gives

them to some tradesman in exchange for some enjoyment; to a

bookseller, for instance, for Bossuet's "Discourse on Universal

History."

       Thus, as far as national labour is concerned, it is

encouraged to the amount of fifteen francs, viz.: -ten francs for

the Paris article; five francs to the bookselling trade.

 

  As to James B., he obtains for his fifteen francs two

gratifications, viz.:

       1st. A hundred-weight of iron.

       2nd. A book.

       The Decree is put in force. How does it affect the condition of

James B.? How does it affect the national labour?

       James B. pays every centime of his five francs to M. Prohibant,

and therefore is deprived of the pleasure of a book, or of some

other thing of equal value. He loses five francs. This must be

admitted; it cannot fail to be admitted, that when the restriction

raises the price of things, the consumer loses the difference.

       But, then, it is said, national labour is the gainer.

       No, it is not the gainer; for, since the Act, it is no more

encouraged than it was before, to the amount of fifteen francs.

       The only thing is that, since the Act, the fifteen francs of

James B. go to the metal trade, while, before it was put in force,

they were divided between the milliner and the bookseller.

       The violence used by M. Prohibant on the frontier, or that

which he causes to be used by the law, may be judged very

differently in a moral point of view. Some persons consider that

plunder is perfectly justifiable, if only sanctioned by law. But,

for myself, I cannot imagine anything more aggravating. However it may

be, the economical results are the same in both cases.

       Look at the thing as you will; but if you are impartial, you

will see that no good can come of legal or illegal plunder. We do

not deny that it affords M. Prohibant, or his trade, or, if you

will, national industry, a profit of five francs. But we affirm that

it causes two losses, one to James B., who pays fifteen francs where

he otherwise would have paid ten; the other to national industry,

which does not receive the difference. Take your choice of these two

losses, and compensate with it the profit which we allow. The other

will prove not the less a dead loss. Here is the moral: To take by

violence is not to produce, but to destroy. Truly, if taking by

violence was producing, this country of ours would be a little

richer than she is.

  VIII. MACHINERY

       "A curse on machines! Every year, their increasing power

devotes millions of workmen to pauperism, by depriving them of work,

and therefore of wages and bread. A curse on machines!"

       This is the cry which is raised by vulgar prejudice, and echoed

in the journals.

       But to curse machines, is to curse the spirit of humanity!

       It puzzles me to conceive how any man can feel any satisfaction

in such a doctrine.

       For, if true, what is its inevitable consequence? That there is

no activity, prosperity, wealth, or happiness possible for any people,

except for those who are stupid and inert, and to whom God has not