The Philosophy of Freedom
Joseph Dana Miller
[The Introduction to the book, Single Tax Year
Book, published
by the Single Tax Review Publishing Company, New York, 1917]
The movement whose modern impulse dates from the publication of Progress
and Poverty in 1879 has now grown to formidable proportions. This
does not mean that there are not many thousands to whom the name of
Henry George or the Single Tax is wholly unfamiliar. It does not even
mean that to a majority of the people of the United States the
philosophy which has become the breath of intellectual life to so
many, is anything more than a name. But it does mean that what Matthew
Arnold called "the saving remnant" of the people have
embraced in whole or in part the truth which Single Taxers contend
for, and that it is to he regarded with respect and consideration in
determining their attitude toward political and economic problems as
they arise. By that mysterious influence which determines the
circulation of great ideas among men whose -minds undergo what for
want of a better term we may call "saturation," the Single
Tax is today a very real and growing power in the world.
This is shown in many ways: in the changed attitude of public
officials toward the movement itself; in the recommendations of State
tax commissions and the luminous revelations of many of the reports of
independent tax commissions; in the hospitable reception accorded to
our doctrines by farmers' organizations, State and national granges,
and, perhaps more significant than all, by the organized socialists,
notably those of Western states, as Texas and California.
What this testifies to is not that all the world is coming to our
belief, but that public opinion is being "mobilized;" that
instead of having to deal with unorganized and incoherent forces
privilege will soon have to contend with a thoroughly equipped army
whose plan of campaign has long been mapped out, and whose massed
forces have finally agreed for an advance on the enemy's point d'
appui.
That much still remains to be done along educational lines is
apparent. The realm of argument is yet full of discordance. The
professorial class have numbered a great many hostile critics, but a
distinct change is noticable, and the Single Tax philosophy has
secured in recent years many notable adherents among the professors of
political economy.
The nineteenth century closed in a series of dazzling intellectual
triumphs. Steam and electricity had reached developments which opened
vistas before which the imagination was able to contemplate a
civilization rounded and complete. There seemed indeed no limit to the
heights to which material development might not attain.
And more: as the twentieth century opened the sphere of human
sympathy was widened. The sense of brotherhood assumed new meaning. At
no time in the world's history, it seemed, were men and women so busy
in devising ways and means of service. Unprecedented sums were
expended in charity and schemes of philanthropy, in the investigation
of diseases, in the amelioration of human suffering. Humanitarian
ideals seemed for a time destined to complete triumph. Socialism, with
its gospel of brotherhood, claimed its disciples even among those of
the highest station. Men embraced it who were frankly distrustful of
its practical aims. Pulpits became rostrums for men and women with
dreams for social betterment. An enormous mass of books treating of
social questions came from the press in a steady stream. Novels
dealing with social problems and frankly critical of long existing
institutions, like Bellamy's Looking Backward, and No.5
John Street, and the novels of John Galsworthy, as well as
innumerable plays based upon the conflict of capital and labor, held
the public attention almost to the exclusion of topics with which
drama and fiction had been hitherto chiefly concerned.
Surely a century out of which a vision of promise might have been
prefigured! But with 1914 the era closed in blood and flame. Europe
and America were finally engulfed in the most hideous calamity that
has ever appalled the centuries. And the end is not yet.
In the variety of theories that have been ascribed as the origin of
the present war, one great fact stands out. The mass of men are
disinherited from the earth. To live at all they must ask the
permission of kings and princes of privilege. In such a state of
society the mere forms of democracy must remain shadowy and
unsubstantial. They do not enter the life of the laws by which men are
governed, but are ignored or set aside at the will or whim of those
who control the government. Peoples become the easy prey of political
kings and princes, to be commanded to their own destruction, or
deluded by the grossest superstitions of prejudice or carefully
nurtured national hatreds. Until men are really free, economically as
well as politically, wars and the fears of war must continue.
International conflicts are only a little more bloody and spectacular
than the suppression of free life and the resultant killing of the
spirit that social injustice entails.
The importance of events that attend the present war is no greater
than those that impend as consequences. Just as other great wars in
history have been followed by results not foreseen, so the results of
this one are certain to be in proportion to the magnitude of the
conflict. To say that the world will never be the same for millions of
human beings is to utter what now sounds like a commonplace.
If it is a war to make the world safe for democracy, the most vital
thing that can be done is to alter the economic relations of men. We
may differ as we will on the results of war, yet the effects of wars
hitherto have been rather for the amalgamation than the separation of
peoples. Had these amalgamations resulted in permanent economic
changes for the better we might indeed have regarded more
philosophically the outpourings of blood and treasure. But the
retention of the same economic disorders following conclusions of
peace has left in the ground ~the same seeds of dissolution, so that
resultant political unity has actually strengthened the influences
that make for national decay. So if out of the present world war
emerges the new internationalism of which so many eager spirits speak
longingly and hopefully, we shall welcome it only if accompanied by
the recognition of the Rights of Man -- which mean the rights of the
individual, not so much the rights of men or nations. And these rights
-- what are they? Are they not summed up in the little understood term
democracy-the right of a man to himself, the right to a place on the
planet, the right to person and product, the right to live, produce
and trade without tribute to any man in all the earth?
There is much to hope for, but the path stretching before us is a
long and tortuous one, and beset with dangers. Much is happening and
much is being said and taught not a little disquieting. Here for
instance is a work recently issued by the Harpers and written by
Charles P. Steinmetz, America and the New Epoch. It calls for
industrial organization after the war. The example held up to us for
emulation is Germany. We must imitate the industrial organization of
that country, or resign ourselves after the war to become like China a
"field of influence," to be parcelled out as the Yellow
Kingdom is today. Yet Mr. Steinmetz seems to have some little doubt of
the existence among us of the collectivist temperament that has made
of Germany a machine without a soul. The >New York Globe asks
editorially if Edward Bellamy, "writing more than a score of
years ago was a true prophet and will we have conscription for peace
as well as war." And the Globe seems to incline to the
acceptance of some vague collectivist programme.
In the North American Review for April the editor, George
Harvey, says: "It is time for America to awake to the importance
of fulfilling more perfectly the provision of the Constitution
(namely, to provide for the general welfare). The principle of laisser
faire will no longer serve our purpose in the increasingly intense
competition among nations.
We ought to realize the necessity of
universal co-ordination between the government and private industry as
the only rational and effective method of securing the industrial and
commercial efficiency which will enable us successfully to defend
ourselves and improve our opportunities in the era of restored peace
which will presently come to the world."
It would be a curious outcome of the present conflict if Germany
defeated in the war should win in the economic field of America. And
this testimony from eminent sources shows the dangers of just that
kind of economic victory. For with the termination of hostilities we
shall be confronted with a large standing army, always a menace to
liberty. To keep this army alive the people must be fed on rumors of
war and the war spirit. We shall be told of "the Japanese menace;"
Mexico may serve again as a good enough Morgan." A large navy may
tempt us to a Chinese policy in the interests of American concessions
which will bring us face to face with Japan. Liberties that we have
yielded readily enough through patriotic devotion for a successful
prosecution of the war may not be so easily recovered in the days when
the war ends. We may be face to face with the gravest situation that
ever confronted the Republic.
What is the most powerful influence opposed to these tendencies that
will gal her strength with the war's aftermath? We cannot,
unfortunately, depend on the socialistic movement. There is a certain
consanguinity, both philosophically and practically, between Socialism
and the type of thought which lends itself, consciously or
unconsciously, to those forms of governmental supervision of industry
which its friends call "collectivism" and its enemies "Prussianism."
Bismarck understood the intimate kinship between fraternal
collectivism and alien governmentalism. The ablest and perhaps the
last imperialistic statesman of our times used socialism to build up a
paternalistic government and the most monstrous military machine of a~
time. The dream of a more equitable distribution of wealth, not by
throwing open natural opportunities to employment and trusting the
natural laws of distribution, but by artificial means and devices of
State regulation, was stolen by Bismarck while the friends of liberty
slept -- and lo, Germany became an industrial autocracy over-night. A
curious metempsychosis accompanied the transformation. Democracy
disappeared from the minds of all but a few-Socialism became as
autocratic as Junkerdom. Bismarck had triumphed over his enemies by
swallowing his enemies whole and announcing their programme as his
own. It was the most notable triumph of that rapacious combination of
blood and iron that ever determined the destines of States. The hope
of democracy died in Germany the day Bismarckism was married to
Marxian socialism.
In view of the fact that socialism, despite its high aims and dreams
of human brotherhood, is powerless to combat this tendency, because of
a curious affinity with those forces which would destroy liberty by
the regulation of industry, to what influences shall we appeal? Surely
we can only invoke in this extremity the philosophy which is its
antithesis, the philosophy which would trust the natural law of
economic freedom, which has certain well-defined notions of individual
rights, of the beneficent laws of free competition under conditions
where long existing institutions that make for the unequal
distribution of wealth shall cease to exist. This is the philosophy
which considers human values rather than the avoirdupois weight of the
nation's total product, and measures efficiency in the value of the
human soul to the community rather than in the material output of the
human machine.
And this philosophy is that of the Single Tax. It goes deeper than
methods of taxation, of land reform, or even a free earth; for it
includes a complete social philosophy of the restoration of the
natural order. Other problems that will arise are those of adjustments
to conditions in the spirit of that philosophy.
It is a philosophy denied often enough in our American social life,
and set at defiance in an infinite variety of laws which burden the
statute books. But nevertheless it is not inimical to American spirit
and tradition. It spoke in the teachings of Jefferson when he said: "The
earth belongs in usufruct to the living and the dead have no
right nor claim over it." It was the unconscious dream of those
who blazed a pathway across a continent; it spoke in the rough-hewn
democracy of men to whom the great West sent its call in the first
half of the last century; it was written into our charter at the very
birth of the Republic; it helped to mould many of our early
institutions.
America is the soil where the Single Tax finds its most complete
beginnings, and may yet find its great fulfillment. Henry George was
born in Pennsylvania and wrote in California. A score of years after
his death California cast a quarter of a million votes for the
principle he died for and Pennsylvania passed laws for two of its
cities, Pittsburg and Scranton, that bring his great ideal measurably
nearer.
And the movement must gain strength with the years. Civilization can
be saved only through freedom-political and economic -- and the first
without the second cannot long endure. It is this that makes the truth
for which we contend, once sneered at and despised, so fascinating to
earnest minded men who are now being attracted by its steady,
imponderable march. Well informed men no longer doubt its ultimate
triumph. It cannot perish from the earth save by a mighty cataclysm
that would bury all the garnered knowledge of the years and all the
aspiration of the ages. In the full fruition of time it will come-a
free earth, free men, and free trade, and a race unshackled to grasp
those mightier problems that concern themselves not with earth and
time, but with eternity and the spiritual nature of man. This i9 the
goal of freedom set for mankind when the aboriginal prototype swung
his stone axe in the primeval forest. For man is more than a working,
producing animal; he is an immortal soul.
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