Unemployment -- The Social Paradox
Charles A. Gilchrist
[Reprinted from the Single Tax Review, 1915]
Unemployment seems to be a more pressing problem than ever before. To
many of us it is a very real personal issue, and to others it is of
such vital interest that much of the current literature is discussing
it.
Stop and consider for a moment the significance of unemployment in
the light of our most simple intuitions -- of all that we naturally
associate with the idea of work.
The natural inference to be drawn from a condition of a general
reduction of work, is that men are finding it possible to produce what
they need with less labor. The condition seems to imply that labor
saving machinery is at last beginning to save labor and that the cry
of efficiency is also having its effect. Poverty and its long train of
attendant evils must disappear and men will be free to enter more and
more into that broader life that comes with leisure. An ever
increasing number of men will be able to travel, study, to romp with
their children, to ride in their own motor car, to delve into art,
music and literature -- and best of all, men will learn how to play.
The ethical evils which now attend the idleness of those who do not
have to work, will disappear, for all in like measure will be relieved
of the necessity of working. Work -- economic work -- will decline,
while economic leisure will gain, but activity will go on. Being
blessed with "over production" there will be more time for
consumption -- an art now frowned down because so few understand it.
Production on lines far broader than the economic will doubtless go
on, although it will not be for the purpose of keeping the wolf from
the door. But to paint a state like this resembles a sick man
considering the things he would do if he were to recover. That
consideration is not quite pertinent, for whatever he would do after
recovery, he knows the tendency of regained health is for his good. So
we are certain that whatever new problems might confront us in the
social state we have been imagining, the tendency of a general
reduction of economic work with its accompanying increase in economic
leisure, is always for the better.
Such is the natural inference.
Nothing of the kind, however, can be inferred. Indeed, the social
state we picture as a result of a general reduction of work is
diametrically opposed to the picture we have drawn. The inference
people do draw is not the natural inference. And therein lies the
paradox, why, in spite of the insatiable and righteous desire of
mankind to economize labor, we look upon increase of work and
employment as a good.
The answer to this question comes with the recognition of the most
vital of social questions which is now so manifest in that "ground
swell" of social unrest; and which is being so generally
apprehended by all sympathetic and thinking people. Why, in spite of a
century of the most marvelous advance in the productive power of labor
that the world has ever seen, should the great mass of men be
condemned to compete for wages which give but the barest living? That
some great fundamental injustice exists in society, and distorts the
distribution of wealth to the most unheard of extremes, is now so
generally recognized that it is not necessary to turn to current
articles on unemployment to see evidence of it. We know, when we
reflect, that men want work only because there has been withheld from
them in some uncomfortable but persistent way, so much of what they
produce, that nothing ever remains to them for consumption in a period
of economic idleness -- a period which otherwise should be the
sweetest and fullest time in life. We know that men are forced to
compete for "wages of bare subsistence" because the
alternative, self -employment, is in some way denied them. It is not
my purpose here to add anything to what is being said as to the cause
and remedy for this, but only to point out the curious inversion of
ideas which is the outcome of that injustice -- that inversion --
which makes us look upon economy of labor in our daily personal life
as good, while in the general social life of the nation we look upon
work as a boon, and upon the class who "furnish employment"
as a class of public benefactors.
So insidious is the advance of this inverted idea into the minds of
people, that it might be called a popular illusion. It is not true
that men want work. It is not true that he who furnishes employment is
by that act a benefactor. What men want is the result of work. And
what, pray, is employment that it should become the property of a few,
to be served out by their grace as a dole? These are not fine
distinctions or vague generalities, they are distinctions which, if
not carefully drawn, distort our most fundamental intuitions in regard
to economic and social questions. They do this because they draw our
attention from the vital cause of the social unrest to its superficial
aspects. They draw our attention from treating the disease to nursing
the symptoms. That men should cry for work is incongruous; it is a
symptom of something profound. That some should give employment in the
sense of employment in general being theirs to give, seems to be too
true; but it is nevertheless preposterous and unnatural.
Here are a few examples of this mental inversion that so often comes
when we pass from a survey of our personal benefits to those of
society.
If I spill paint upon the floor, it "makes work," but I
regret the circumstance. Yet the heavy fall of snow in New York City,
even though it were an enormous obstruction to traffic, was regarded
by many as a public boon since its removal would at least furnish
employment. Certain public buildings were -- in the course of a
discussion -- being condemned as useless and the remark was finally
added, "Well at any rate their destruction will furnish
employment to a whole army of men." But would the man who felt
like that about the public buildings consider for a moment, the idea
of furnishing himself employment by constructing with his own hands, a
garage, for example, along impracticable lines?
Removing snow from the streets of New York is productive employment
only because it is not in the power of man to prevent its fall. Had no
snow fallen, society would have been by that much the gainer. Just to
the extent that the public buildings are useless, are the wages of
those who work on them a charity from the taxpayers. Do we solve our
problem when we support labor on charity, deluding it into the idea
that it is doing something worth while?
In those instances where work is recommended for its own sake, that
is, in spite of its failure to be fully productive, the employment so
undertaken involves two evils. First, it degrades the employed into
the position of a child who must have "work for idle hands,"
and is not fully responsible for the product. Secondly, it befogs the
mind of the employer to the real issue, the restoration of labor to
its right of self employment.
There are some excellent illustrations of this tendency of thought
that were discussed recently in the Outlook, where the question was
raised, "Is it right to stop buying books, thereby increasing the
already desperate plight of printers and publishers, in order to send
more money to the widows and orphans of the war?" And speaking of
ways to retrench, "As a concrete example of what should not be
done," various societies are instanced, "which have
announced that all banquets and dinners will be foregone for this year
and the money thereby saved turned over to various relief funds."
It was "pointed out that such action worked hardship on a large
class of waiters, caterers and florists; that it was hardly fair to
ask a waiter to donate so large a portion of his wages to charity."
When we cease to want books for any reason whatever, be it a saving
for charity or a disinclination to read, it is right to stop buying
regardless of the effect upon printers and publishers. If this is not
so, then the same idea carried to greater length would place some
responsibility upon us to be sick occasionally in order that doctors
should not lack employment and so be reduced to "desperate
plights." The reference to banquets and dinners is a particularly
good one since waiters, caterers and florists are producers of things
that can most readily be dispensed with when retrenchment becomes
desirable. Contrary to the sentiment quoted, it would seem to be a "concrete
example" of a very good way to retrench, for if retrenchment must
throw some workers out it is certainly well to begin with workers in
those employments that administer to luxury. More than this: In both
of these instances the specific purpose of retrenchment is to assist
relief funds, that is, it is not to curtail consumption but merely to
change its form. Just so far as the demand for books and banquets is
impaired the demand for food stuffs and other articles needed by the
suffering will be augmented. Just to the extent that booksellers and
waiters are thrown out of emplo3mient, food and clothes producers will
be offered employment. In the language of political economy,
employment is being transferred from less productive to more
productive forms -- a process that is going on and must constantly go
on in all growing communities. This is not to say that in hard times
there is not a net reduction in consumption as well as in emplo3mient,
but the cases here quoted are not instances of it.
The idea expressed in the last instance that a waiter in being
discharged thereby "donates" a portion of his wages to
charity is a novel one.
"Work for works sake" blinds us in our vision of real
causes. It is like trying to raise the level of the ocean by damming a
bay, where we do in fact raise the level of all we immediately see and
touch, but produce an infinitesimal and widely extended and reverse
effect upon the ocean at large. The "furnishing employment"
idea as a social reform, if it means anything at all, implies that the
employer consciously sets aside to a greater or less extent, the usual
consideration of getting the greatest return for the least output. To
the extent that it is reform at all, it implies employment not fully
productive -- employment that would not otherwise have been
undertaken. We must all have deep sympathy for the motives of those
who would better hard times by "furnishing employment," but
such action can have no effect in alleviating hard times in general,
and must produce a reverse effect by diverting us from the true
problem of restoring to men those, rights which not only make self
employment possible as an alternative to wage working, but which
raises wages through the simultaneous reduction in competition in the
labor market. Were it easier for labor to employ itself, employers
would be called upon to bid against each other to get labor. Instead
of the phrase "furnishing employment," we would have the
phrase "furnishing labor." The feeling of obligation would
be the other way. This does not necessarily mean that men would employ
themselves, for in so doing the advantage of production on large
scales would be lost, but enough would turn to self employment to
equalize the labor market and make employment and self employment
equally attractive.
When I employ labor I do not fully need, the good I do is
concentrated within the field of my every day vision, but the
degradation to labor at large is spread over the whole body politic.
The sentiment of charity is the most beautiful of all sentiments, but
under these circumstances the charity is administered under false
pretences. Those instances whose employment is held over a dull
period, or instances where a personal attachment enters in, as often
happens where one has an affection for a servant -- are not instances
of work for work's sake, for a little reflection will at once show
that employment is there most fully productive. Unemployment is, of
course, simply a more acute form of poor employment -- it is the next
step to starvation wages. Wages in general can never be raised until
workers have the power to compel their increase and this power resides
in the right of all to equal benefits from the use of the earth, a
right now effectually denied by the institution of private property in
land. Could we devise a way to restore this right, the evils we
associate with non-employment would automatically disappear, for the
distribution of wealth is to society what the vital functions are to
the body -- we may consciously give these functions a free field, but
we may not consciously direct their workings.
But we are beginning to touch the question we promised not to touch.
Without it our argument has been destructive rather than constructive,
and to that extent undeniable without being convincing. But those who
do see light in the great social question will be able not only to
see, but to sympathize with our point of view. They will see that we
are only clearing a bit of ground for reconstruction, that we are only
insisting that men must be just before they are charitable.
We have pointed out that unemployment is but the next step to poor
cmplo3mient. Even when unemployment does not exist, the greater part
of the people are living on "wages of bare subsistence." To
touch effectively the evils of unemployment minimum wages at all times
must be higher, very much higher, not ten per cent, or fifty per
cent., but several times higher. Then unemployment will be a boon, a
needed rest, a time for spiritual growth, not for some people, but for
all the people. And the raising of wages carries with it a corollary
-- the reduction of fortunes. If we believe there is injustice in the
distribution of wealth, it is futile to look for remedies for poverty
that do not have an accompanying effect upon riches. If some have less
than is just, others are getting more than is just. We are too much in
the habit of looking upon great fortunes as justifiable objects of
ambition -- as if it were possible to attain them by any fair means.
Such is not the case, for in the last analysis a fortune is simply an
inordinate lien upon the labor of the country -- inordinate in the
sense of commanding far greater service than the recipient could
possibly give in return. We may agree with that school of economists
which says that land and natural resources as well as the products of
labor are wealth; or we may agree with their adversaries who say that
wealth is solely the product of labor -- but in either case the
possession of wealth has ultimate value solely because it can buy the
products of labor, that is, command the service of others. If I have
title to a mountain of iron ore, or a strip of Manhattan Island, I
have a fortune, not because I can consume those things but because
they give me the power to demand the service of men without return.
There is no just way to acquire wealth except to give an equivalent of
work for it, and it is not within the power of a human being to give
an equivalent of work for what is in these days considered a fortune.
These things we must fight tooth and nail. The fight against poverty
is one with the fight against riches, for they are co-relatives.
When Christ said, "It is easier for a camel to pass through the
eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven,"
He simply put in the emphatic form of Eastern metaphor a statement of
fact as coldly true as the statement that two parallel lines never
meet. And so it is utterly impossible in this, or in any other
conceivable world, to abolish unjust poverty without at the same time
abolishing unjust possessions. This is a hard word to the softly
amiable philanthropists who, to speak metaphorically, would like to
get on the good side of God without angering the devil. But it is a
true word nevertheless." (pp. 307, The Science of Political
Economy, by Henry George).
|