Manhattan For Rent, 1785-1850
Conclusion: The Housing Question
Elizabeth Blackmar
[Excerpt from the book published in 1991]
By 1850, New York City's capitalist housing market had transformed
the spatial organization of everyday life and with it the social
relations of real property. Landownership had lost its association
with the conditions of independent proprietorship, and houses no
longer sheltered and integrated trade and domestic labor. Though the
proprietary house and shop persisted as a residual form, particularly
in family-operated taverns, groceries, and handicraft shops, the vast
majority of New York households had moved onto the cash nexus of wages
and rent. The social distribution of shelter like that of any other
commodity produced for profit, measured economic power; and in the
years 1785 to 1850, New York City's working people had lost power,
their collective claims on the city's resources, including the value
that they created as workers and as tenants. No matter how many
individual families might move up and down the economic ladder, the
housing market organized class divisions as permanent features of the
city's social landscape.
In a culture that vigorously denied fundamental class antagonisms and
celebrated "society's" progress, the construction and
preservation of social distance through distinct residential
neighborhoods had become a key strategy for ordering city land use
into profitable investment. The displacement of older institutions of
proprietary independence was only one part of a larger process that
did yield the progress of an increasing social capacity to produce new
material wealth. Where for centuries control of land and housing had
represented the primary means of controlling labor, the organization
of property relations as market relations that measured value through
exchange dissolved traditional structures of social hierarchy,
monopoly, and appropriation. But in New York City, control over land
and housing had assumed new social meanings and represented a new kind
of social power.
By the mid-nineteenth century, landed property relations in New York
City had changed in part through a change in the social composition
and goals of landowners. New investors, particularly speculators and
developers who bought up large tracts for construction at the city's
periphery, joined and gradually replaced an older generation of
merchant rentier families. These real estate entrepreneurs did not
expect to attach their names to the landscape, to pass on the stored
wealth of prestigious country estates to sons or daughters, or to
claim political privileges. Rather they looked to sell or to develop
land in a favorable market and quickly reinvest the returns. And when
they asserted political power it was through the influence of their
money and strategic coalitions rather than through propertied
status.[1]
Manhattan real estate continued to be distributed through a tiered
system of long-term ground leases, building leases, and subleases. If
exposes of Trinity Church's slum housing in the 1840s and i850s and
again in the 1870s prompted that venerable institution to divest
portions of its eighteenth-century land grants, other rentier families
and new entrepreneurs retained and distributed large tracts through
ground leases.[2]Still, property taxes and assessments for streets and
utilities made the holding of Manhattan land a luxury that could be
afforded -- even when the land was inherited -- only through close
calculation of opportunity costs: interest and taxes set against rent
revenues or alternative investment outlets. Political economic theory
reconceptualized "ground rent" itself to analyze not only
revenues collected from tenants but even land's "cost" to an
owner-occupier who might pursue alternative investments. Whereas
historically land investments had been central to the formation of the
city's bourgeoisie, by 1860 real estate represented one choice -- and
not necessarily the most lucrative -- among many outlets for
accumulated capital or savings, including finance, industry,
transportation, and western lands.
Even as social calculations of land's value changed, fluctuations in
the real estate market continued to register the health of the city's
larger economy. Thus the experience of 1837 was replayed in 1857 and
again in the mid-i870s. Though real estate remained a relatively open
sector and continued to absorb the petty capital of small
entrepreneurs, each depression reinforced the trend toward
institutional consolidation. By the 1870s, real estate brokerage and
Manhattan management firms, incorporated building companies, financial
institutions and neighborhood real estate associations sought to
coordinate competition and further landed interests in particular
locales, and trade journals imparted strategic wisdom alongside recent
market information.[3]
Some elements of that wisdom had emerged from the trials and errors
of the first half of the century. As in the 1820s and 1830s, new
residential construction was liveliest at the edge of the built town.
For this very reason, by the 1870s Manhattan real estate investments
were closely linked to transportation systems, first to the
horse-drawn railways and later to the elevated railroads and subways.
Having learned the benefit of public open ground in establishing
residential districts, in the 1850s uptown landowners and developers
embraced the creation of Central Park, more than 8oo acres of
landscaped beauty guaranteed to increase the value of lots and
buildings in its vicinity. But the rapid growth of Brooklyn and New
Jersey towns also expanded the field of real estate competition.[4]
Then, too, after decades of debate over the problematic
respectability of multifamily dwellings, by the late 1870s Manhattan
developers were shifting from single- and two-family row houses to
apartments. In doing so they followed the same logic of absorbing land
costs through intensified occupancy which had prompted the production
of "tenements." To overcome middle-class New Yorkers'
suspicions of a housing form historically associated with poverty,
builders added amenities lacking in tenements -- new utilities and
ornamentation -- and promoted the value of prestigious addresses and
the "convenience" of yet a new style of "modern
housekeeping." No less than the single-family dwelling, the
emergence of middle-class apartments restructured domestic labor
relations by reducing the need for live-in servants to guarantee the
home's smooth operation and respectability. And as with the management
of tenant houses, the introduction of new tiers of agents and managers
whose work it was to collect middle-class rents added another layer of
housing cost, even as it created another sector of managerial
employment.[5]
Still, despite these industry-wide strategies, specific conditions of
landownership, prior land use, commercial competition, neighborhood
succession, and the uncertain rhythm of building cycles continued to
shape the history of particular Manhattan blocks. Not until the
twentieth century did government support of the residential real
estate market discover in zoning a new means of regulating land use to
stabilize neighborhoods and enforce spatial and social uniformity as a
primary public goal. And hot until the emergence of Harlem in the
early decades of the twentieth century did the Manhattan real estate
market take race -- as distinguished from poverty -- as a primary
category of spatial organization.[6]
Even as new uptown housing absorbed the revenues of the city's
middling and elite families in the years 1850 to 1880, the city's
laboring people remained concentrated in territories first claimed by
the families of artisans and journeymen, especially on the Lower East
Side. As each depression ripened downtown lots on the old Rutgers, De
Lancey, and Stuyvesant lands by reducing acquisition costs, builders
replaced earlier generations of subdivided tenant houses with
tenements and launched a new cycle of filtering from within. Some of
the city's older artisan neighborhoods gave way to commercial
redevelopment -- particularly the West Side Fifth and Eighth wards,
which became the warehouse district now known as SoHo, with expanded
sweatshops above the stores in cast-iron buildings. In the 1850s, as
metal shops, gas-houses, and factories located along Manhattan's
shores, new Irish and German working-class neighborhoods extended
north into Hell's Kitchen on the West Side and Yorktown on the East
Side.[7]
At the heart of the housing market remained the essential strategy of
securing demand by restricting supply. The permanent housing crisis
moved in waves, exacerbated by swells of immigration following each
depression. Doubtless for thousands who settled in the city, as for
the Irish in the 1840s and 1850s, tenements, however crowded,
represented an improvement over the living conditions they left
behind. Each generation of new arrivals adapted their housekeeping to
the exigencies of crowding and mobility. And working-class families
developed cooperative strategies to maintain their standard of living
against repeated encroachments from landlords and employers alike --
from low wages and rent hikes that in reducing housing space
intensified the requirements and reduced the value of domestic labor.
However frequent their change in domestic quarters, wage-earning New
Yorkers created neighborhood institutions -- informal credit networks,
saloons, ward clubhouses, benevolent societies, unions, and church
congregations -- which transformed the territories of hardship into
the staging grounds of ongoing social contest.[8]
If investment maps and the logic of the bifurcated housing market
systematically created class territories, New Yorkers drew their own
boundaries through the daily patterns of social traffic and
interaction. By the 1850s, a new literature of "guides" that
"uncovered" and "exposed" the city to its
middle-class residents testified to the irrelevance of spatial
proximity to social knowledge.[9] But the practical necessities of
sharing the city landscape also exposed social and spatial
contradictions that could not be ignored. The questions that emerged
in the mid-nineteenth century remain with us today: What were the
social limits of private property rights? Who bore the social costs of
unlimited rights of appropriation? How within a shared environment
could any individual justly claim an exclusive interest in and control
of resources necessary to all? These questions arose not from the most
oppressed but from middle-class New Yorkers who saw in the city's
mid-nineteenth century housing conditions a danger to their own
health, safety, and domestic tranquility, and a threat to the social
equilibrium of a free-market society. Their answers to these questions
were constrained by the contradictions of the mid-nineteenth-century
liberal republican response to the transformation of property
relations into market relations. Regarding private property in land
(as well as in labor) as the means to independent living, reformers
who took up the housing question had limited ways of addressing the
consequences of the circulation of land, housing, and labor as
commodities.
The Politics of Property
Challenges to the Anglo-American tradition of landed property rights
first emerged not in the United States but in Europe, where the
privileges of crown, church, and aristocracy came under assault, and
in the West Indies, where Haiti's successful slave revolution broke
asunder the landed basis of racial domination. Such New Yorkers as
Chancellor James Kent warned of the "Jacobin" threat to
republican institutions, but it was not just radicals who had begun to
question the historical foundations and justice of exclusive rights in
land or enslaved labor. Steeped in a faith in natural rights and
natural laws of economic behavior, liberal political thinkers could
find no principle that overrode every man's right to the property of
his own labor; and they had begun to question the legitimacy of a
landed elite's monopoly of the wealth of nations.[10]
American political leaders had built and compromised their nation on
contradictory principles of protecting the institution of slavery
while at the same time affirming private property rights that found
their justification in a person's ownership of self. The compromise
collapsed, but only at that moment when the principle of labor's
alienability, the free labor market, had transformed the meaning of
property in labor. Labor power, not persons, not the self, could be
bought and sold like any other commodity. And where, as in the South,
emancipated labor had no access to the means of subsistence,
landowners reasserted their control over labor through their control
of land.[11]
Having embraced the principle of free labor half a century earlier,
northern republican leaders sought to secure the benefits of
proprietary independence by abolishing the vestigial property
relations of a "feudal order." In New York, farmers drew on
the language of the Revolution for seventy-five years to attack the
state's "landed aristocracy." In the 1840s and 1850, New
Yorkers struck new compromises on the meaning and extent of real
property rights through constitutional and legal reforms, and the last
preemptive powers of a landed social order gave way to the imperatives
of the market. The political debates of the mid-nineteenth century
framed the possibilities for state intervention in the housing market.
The 1846 movement to write a new constitution in New York drew
strength from overlapping political developments. Popular attacks on
the powers of corporations chartered by special legislation, anxieties
over rising taxes that bailed out state-sponsored canals, and the
pressures of creditor-debtor relations following the panic of 1837
laid the ground for a bipartisan coalition that saw in a revised state
constitution a new democratic charter. Although motivated by different
concerns, anti-canal Bamburners, Anti-Rent farmers, and reform-minded
lawyers joined in dismantling an older commonwealth tradition of
direct legislative involvement in the economy. Attacking state debts
(which taxed individual initiative), special charters, and feudal
tenures, constitutional reformers denounced "monopolies"
that ran against the democratic republican grain. They simultaneously
called for a reduction of government's powers and an increase in
electoral participation. Thus the 1846 constitution sharply restricted
the Legislature's power to incur debts for internal improvements,
endorsed general incorporation laws, and abolished state inspection of
commodities. New provisions for biennial Senate elections,
single-member Assembly districts, the election of judges, voter
referenda on state debts, and the abolition of property requirements
for office holding aimed at bringing government action more closely
under citizens' control.[12]
Constitutional and legal reforms of the 1840s and 1850s endorsed a
laissez-faire economy and purported to shift government's role from
that of an active agent in economic development to that of the
grounds-keeper of the neutral playing field of contractual private
property relations. But while democratic utilitarian thought embraced
competition as the greatest public good, laying the legal and
constitutional foundations of a free-market economy required the
setting of limits on preemptive property rights. Antebellum judges had
themselves initiated the process of weighing absolute private rights
against public policy by modifying common law doctrines that inhibited
new industrial land uses. The tensions of redefining property rights
and adapting them to new market conditions without infringing on the
principle of the state's responsibility to protect private property
was evident in the treatment of tenure relations in the 1846
constitution.[13]
Advocates of the 1846 constitution saw its reforms as fulfilling the "policy
of our government which was to favor free alienation of property, and
to discourage the accumulation and perpetuation of large estates in
particular families." Thus the constitution abolished feudal
tenures, as had the Legislature by statute repeatedly since 1779.
Furthermore, in an effort to end "feudal" conditions in
leases for life or in fee, the constitution voided "all fines,
quarter sales or other like restraints upon alienation reserved in any
grant of land." Finally, the constitution incorporated the
statutory rule against parole (oral) leases of more than a year's
duration, By making written leases a matter of fundamental law, the
state presumably encouraged tenants to reject unreasonable covenants
and thereby protect themselves against feudal customs and even the
common law.[14]
But delegates representing the cities expressed concern that these
reforms on behalf of rural leaseholders would interfere with the
rights and interests of urban landowners. Landlords in the "vicinity
of cities" often leased their extensive speculative holdings "for
agricultural purposes for long term, and in view of their being wanted
hereafter for city purposes, explained one delegate, who was himself a
member of a prominent Manhattan merchant landowning family.
Restrictions upon the length of leases, the delegate complained, would
render such lands utterly "unproductive" until such time as
they might be developed for city use. Furthermore, delegates warned
that proposals to restrict covenants against tenant alienation of
leases "would admit of a more general construction allowing
tenants to sub-rent without consent." If extended to cities, such
a provision threatened the interests of landlords "who took care
to know who were to be their tenants when they made leases and [who]
should not be deprived of the right to do so."[15]
City landowners saw to it that reforms that established the principle
of land's free alienability did not also discourage strategies that
made real estate investments competitive with other sectors of
capital. The 1846 constitution placed an "agricultural"
qualifier on its prohibition of leases for terms of longer than twelve
years, allowing city rentiers to continue speculative trading in
ground leases of twenty-one years and longer. The restriction on
covenants against tenant alienation of leases remained, however, and
was largely ignored by city rentiers, who continued to covenant
against subletting without permission.[16]
A similar ambiguity in extending private property rights by limiting
traditional prerogatives of landholding emerged with the passage of
New York's first married women's property act in 1848. Despite the
aggressive campaign of such of feminists as Ernestine Rose and
Elizabeth Cady Stanton, most lawmakers who supported the reform saw it
less as an attack on the economic foundations of patriarchy than as a
measure that extended men's powers to protect dependent women. New
York's wealthiest families had long used trusts to create separate
estates that sheltered wives' property from husbands' obligations for
debts. But reform lawyers who viewed equity jurisdiction as cumbersome
and restricted in its benefits joined debtors in the campaign to place
all wives' property beyond the reach of creditors. Like the
mid-century general incorporation laws that replaced special
legislative charters, married women's property acts can be read as
part of the larger trend to promote commercial ventures by creating a
personal safety net. Married women's property rights abolished the
patriarchal structure of landed property and labor relations in a
commercial economy that no longer questioned the rights of
appropriation that those relations embodied.[17]
Alongside the 1846 constitution and 1848 Married Women's Property
Act, the mid-nineteenth century land reform movement broadened popular
discussion of the republican conception of private property rights and
indeed to many people represented a means of resolving the tensions
between the sanctity of those rights and the problematic social powers
of monopoly. The intellectual seeds of land reform were laid in
England and Ireland, where Chartists, militant tenants, and liberal
political economists all attacked the political and economic position
of an elite landed class. David Ricardo and, a generation later John
Stuart Mill questioned the economic utility and social justice of land
monopolies; class monopolies of the limited supply of natural
resources, they argued, arose not from individual initiative but from
inherited rank. If labor produced all value, what right did landowners
have to collect in rising rents the "unearned" value that
resulted from the labors of society as a whole?[18]
In the middle decades of the nineteenth century, Americans gave the
principles of land reform a distinctive twist. As in Europe, radical
and liberal strains of land reform found different followers. New York
mechanics who embraced Owenist (and later Fourierist) associationist
ideas envisioned utopian communities that, replacing competition with
cooperation, would share the resource of land as common property.
Although Jacksonian workingmen remained skeptical that freely
distributed land could resolve the conflicts they had only begun to
articulate as divided interests of capital and labor; they placed land
reform on their political agenda alongside free education, lien
legislation, and the abolition of banking monopolies. But when in the
late 1820s such radicals as Thomas Skidmore carried Owenist principles
to their logical conclusion and called for the abolition of private
property, trade unionists hastened to reassure the public that they "only
want to be secure in our labor and have no more intention of taking
what does not belong to us than we have of taking arsenic."[19]
The stronger strain of American land reform drew on the agrarian
republican tradition, which viewed individual proprietorship as the
foundation of personal and civic virtue. Unlike Europe, the United
States enjoyed an abundance of vacant land. When the frontier was
opened to settlers, the nation would tap its natural resources without
challenging the principle of private property rights in land (or,
indeed, in labor). In the 1840s and 1850s, this faith mobilized
popular support for the conquest of western territories and triggered
lively debate over policies to distribute public lands to
homesteaders. By the late 1850s, the antislavery movement had linked
free soil and free labor, and the new Republican party endorsed
liberal homesteading policies that reinforced the antislavery alliance
of northern farmers, small producers, western merchants, railroads,
and land speculators.[20]
Antebellum land reform addressed the question of the exclusive
appropriative powers of landownership by promising those rights to
increasing numbers of people. Attaching the republican goal of
proprietary independence to migration, land reformers implicitly
conceded that that goal could not be realized in eastern cities. But
as taken up by the labor movement, land reform also represented a
strategy to improve the conditions of working people within the free
labor market: if workers' families could migrate to affordable
homesteads, those who remained behind might stand in a better
bargaining position. In New York City, workingmen further called on
the city to distribute corporation common lands for the construction
of workers' housing. At the very moment when the city took more than
8oo acres of uptown land out of the market to create Central Park,
unemployed demonstrators sought to apply the principles of land reform
to the city's housing crisis. But with immigration accelerating,
neither western migration nor cheap city lands could alleviate the
condition of workers caught between employers' and landlords' drive
for profit.[21]
Liberal land reformers, like the advocates of the constitutional and
legal reforms of the mid-nineteenth century, saw in the distribution
and unconstrained circulation of abundant land a solution to the
threat that concentrated wealth posed to a democratic social order.
Once positive state policy guaranteed the conditions of distribution,
government could step back from the market and give private property
rights free reign. But if the distribution of land embodied the goal
of independent proprietorship, laissez-faire principles extended to
all forms of property. Even as an older order of landed property
relations finally gave way to the ideology of a free market that
preserved the principle of access to proprietorship, a new system of
property relations had begun to emerge. In a development prefigured by
the absentee ownership of land, corporations organized individual
property rights as claims not on the direct use of land, labor, or
other resources but as rights to revenues, benefits severed from use.
And even as new corporate institutions and powers of absentee
ownership emerged, liberal New Yorkers began to formulate a new
defense of state regulation of individual private property rights in
the use of city land and housing.
Housing Reform
New York City's first housing reform movement, responding to
conditions twenty years in the making, took another twenty years to
achieve its legislative goals. By the 1850s, the housing crisis had
received a decade of publicity from city officials faced with the task
of explaining and controlling the rising mortality rate, from
newspaper editors who called upon capitalists to undertake
philanthropic building ventures, and from private charity leaders who
found their agenda for moral reform overwhelmed by housing conditions
that contradicted the very definition of morality attached to
respectable home life. Whereas reformers of the 1820s and 1830s had
focused on the contamination of particular neighborhoods tenanted by "vagrants,"
by the 1840s respectable New Yorkers were beginning to view housing
conditions throughout the city as cause and symptom of new and
dangerous social divisions. Indeed, housing conditions became a
primary field of social interpretation and debate which incorporated a
range of mid-century intellectual and political currents.
Discussions of agrarian land reform spilled over into the Whig Courier's
attack on the "practical Fourierism" of working-class
neighborhoods and Horace Greeley's Tribune editorials
advocating western migration. Irish and English immigrants applied
their own radical brands of land reform in attacks on parasitic city
landlords. Physicians, drawing on English investigations, added a
scientific gloss to moral reform efforts, stressing the impact of the
social environment on individual character and the value of
professional medical expertise in investigations of the problem.
Utilitarian merchants who defined the public interest as an
ever-expanding economy warned that poor housing conditions and the
social disorders they bred would scare away investors, customers, and
new city residents. Manufacturers saw in high rents the fuel of worker
militancy and in tenement life the corruption of disciplined work
habits. Nativists and Whig politicians warned that unscrupulous
Tammany politicians would exploit ethnic neighborhoods to their own
advantage by trading drinks for votes.[22]
The above section
ends at the end of the first paragraph of page 260 and begins
again below with page 265. |
The principle gained in the first housing reform legislation was an
important one: the state could set limits on strategies of
profitmaking -- sanctioned by private property rights. The old common
law principle that restrained a landowner from usingproperty in such a
way as to injure the interests of a neighbor had been effectively
recast: the city as a whole constituted the neighborhood. And in
separating housing from other forms of private property, reformers
sought to consider its distinctive spatial and social attributes and
the consequences of inadequate shelter within a shared landscape. Yet
this very separation also exposes the limits of housing reform as a
solution to the social costs of capitalist property relations. The
appropriative powers buried in the historical construction of "individual"
property rights in land and housing, a householder's right to
dependents' labor, had become class rights to the value of society's
labor.
Those limits could be seen more clearly in one of the nineteenth
century's most radical social movements -- Henry George's campaign for
a single tax on land. In his 1879 Progress and Poverty, George
drew on antebellum land reformers' critique of the social monopoly of
natural resources to argue that "the great cause of inequality in
the distribution of wealth is inequality in the ownership of land."
The solution therefore was to eliminate the benefits of landownership
when it was severed from land use, to tax away landowners' "unearned
increment," the ground rent they collected from appreciating land
values. The community created that value through its labors, and no
individual could claim exclusive rights in the common property of
natural resources. With a single tax on land, George argued, "no
one could afford to hold land that he was not using, and consequently,
land not in use would be thrown open to those who would use it."[35]
It was a remarkable critique and program in a nation that had
enshrined private property rights in land as its unique heritage and
the foundation of republican government. George rejected the call of
antebellum land reformers for the distribution of public lands through
homesteading policies. Having spent time in San Francisco, he had
observed at firsthand the monopolization of western lands by
railroads, speculators, and mining companies. Any measures which
merely permit or facilitate the greater subdivision of land," he
insisted, could not offset the "tendency to concentration."
Instead, George called for a single tax that would inhibit speculation
and landlordism and restore land to the people who occupied and used
it; such a measure would not infringe on property rights in
improvements that contributed to material progress.[36]
The abolition of rentiers' right to expropriate social wealth in
ground rent, George argued, would free capitalists and workers to
cooperate in the shared project of increasing that wealth. Thus,
though he abandoned earlier agrarian land reformers' faith in
homesteading, he shared their producerist assumptions and analysis of
land's benefit to industrial workers. If the alternative of
independent proprietorship was restored, "competition would no
longer be one-sided. Instead of laborers competing against each other
for employment and in their competition cutting down wages to the
point of bare subsistence, employers would everywhere be competing for
laborers, and wages would rise to the fair earnings of labor.''
Furthermore, employers would bid ''against the ability of laborers to
become their own employers upon the natural opportunities freely
opened to them by the tax which prevented monopolization."[37]
George brought his program to New York City, and in 1886 he formed an
alliance between the city's trade union movement and middle-class
reformers and ran for mayor as the United labor Party candidate. Few
labor leaders shared his optimism that the single tax represented a
permanent solution to poverty or that the elimination of land monopoly
would reconcile the interests of capital and labor. Yet in the 1850s
the cooperative labor movement itself, and particularly the Knights of
labor, had moved far beyond shop-floor relations to experiment with
multi-issue community organizing.[38]
George's mayoral campaign found its institutional base in the
independent political culture that had sprung up in the city's ethnic
neighborhoods. As the historian David Scobey has shown, the George
campaign organized "pledge drives, neighborhood meetings, and
street-corner rallies . . . supported by informal social networks
within the working-class community and by the rhetorical traditions of
organized labor." Unlike efforts at housing reform twenty years
earlier, the George campaign mobilized wage-earning families who saw
improved housing conditions as only one of the benefits of abolishing
land monopolies. And though the insurgent party was defeated, the
threat of working-class militancy prompted propertied New Yorkers to
renew discussion of housing reform as a solution to class
conflict.[39]
Yet George's ideas were symptomatic of the larger problem of limiting
a critique of private property to only one of its forms. By the late
nineteenth century, rentiers who collected an unearned increment were
not simply landowners, for land no longer stood at the heart of the
American economy, and its unequal distribution was not the only source
of social inequality. A program that captured the landed wealth of an
Astor or a Vanderbilt left untouched the even greater wealth -- and
appropriative powers -- of a Morgan, Rockefeller; or Carnegie. Nor
would the abolition of property in land affect the power of the
stock-and bondholders who "owned" the means of industrial
production. Property relations had moved beyond the family and market
relations that determined labor's access to land and housing as
resources for independent subsistence. Corporate absentee ownership
had "socialized" the ownership of capital -- and claims on
the value of labor -- without risking the principle of exclusive
appropriation. Capitalists in effect paid landowners the private tax
of ground rent in exchange for the historical legacy and legitimacy of
private property rights. If George, no less than Karl Marx and
Friedrich Engels, declared that property in land was theft, socialists
took the argument the next step and called for the abolition of all
private property.[40]
The first half of the nineteenth century yielded contradictory
concepts of private property rights within the liberal tradition. On
one level, the triumph of laissez-faire claims to absolute property
rights reinforced the concept that the state exists only to protect
those rights. On another, nineteenth-century housing reformers
formulated the concept of an overriding public interest that justified
the expansion of the state's police power to restrain the exercise of
property rights that infringed on the "domestic tranquility"
of the community as a whole. The two conceptions opened the way to the
weighing of private interests and public consequences so
characteristic of land-use regulation today. And in a sense George's
single-tax campaign recovered a third tradition of property rights --
that of common rights in natural resources. New theories of social
limits on private property rights have emerged when the social costs
of exclusive appropriation have been felt to be too great. These
debates continue as New York City once again faces a housing
crisis.[41] In order to address the contemporary housing question it
is necessary, as it was in the past, to look at how the larger
structures of property and labor relations have emerged and worked
together to determine people's access to shelter. To view these
relations as having a history is also to see the possibility of their
future transformation.
[see original source for all footnotes]
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