We have just seen that between our wants and the satisfaction of these
wants, obstacles are interposed. We succeed in overcoming these obstacles, or
in diminishing their force, by the employment of our faculties. We may say,
in a general way, that industry is an effort followed by a result.
But what constitutes the measure of our prosperity, or of our wealth? Is
it the result of the effort? Or is it the effort itself? A relation always
subsists between the effort employed and the result obtained. Progress
consists in the relative enhancement of the second or of the first term of
this relation.
Both theses have been maintained; and in political economy they have
divided the region of opinion and of thought.
According to the first system, wealth is the result of labor, increasing
as the relative proportion of result to effort increases. Absolute
perfection, of which God is the type, consists in the infinite distance
interposed between the two terms — in this sense, effort is nil, result
infinite.
The second system teaches that it is the effort itself that constitutes
the measure of wealth. To make progress is to increase the relative
proportion which effort bears to result. The ideal of this system may be
found in the sterile and eternal efforts of Sisyphus.[1]
The first system naturally welcomes everything which tends to diminish
pains and augment products; powerful machinery that increases the forces of
man, exchange that allows him to derive greater advantage from natural
resources distributed in various proportions over the face of the earth,
intelligence that discovers, experience that proves, competition that
stimulates, etc.
Logically, the second invokes everything which has the effect of
increasing pains and diminishing products; privileges, monopolies,
restrictions, prohibitions, suppression of machinery, barrenness, etc.
It is well to remark that the universal practice of mankind always points
to the principle of the first system. We have never seen, we shall never see,
a man who labors in any department, be he agriculturist, manufacturer,
merchant, artificer, soldier, author, or philosopher, who does not devote all
the powers of his mind to work better, to work with more rapidity, to work
more economically — in a word, to effect more with less.
The opposite doctrine is in favor only with theorists, legislators,
journalists, statesmen, ministers — men, in short, born to make experiments
on the social body.
At the same time, we may observe that in what concerns themselves
personally they act as everyone else does, on the principle of obtaining from
labor the greatest possible amount of useful results.
Perhaps I may be thought to exaggerate, and there are no true sisyphists.
If it be argued that in practice they do not press their principle to its
most extreme consequences, I willingly grant it. This is always the case when
one sets out with a false principle. Such a principle soon leads to results
so absurd and so mischievous that we are obliged to stop short. This is the
reason why practical industry never admits sisyphism; punishment would follow
error too closely not to expose it. But in matters of speculation, such as
theorists and statesmen deal in, one may pursue a false principle a long time
before discovering its falsity by the complicated consequences to which men
were formerly strangers; and when at last its falsity is found out, the
authors take refuge in the opposite principle, turn round, contradict
themselves, and seek their justification in a modern maxim of incomparable
absurdity: in political economy there is no inflexible rule, no absolute
principle.
Let us see, then, if these two opposite principles that I have just
described do not predominate by turns, the one in practical industry, the
other in industrial legislation.
I have already noticed the saying of Mr. Bugeaud that "when bread is
dear agriculturists become rich"; but in Mr. Bugeaud are embodied two
separate characters, the agriculturist and the legislator.
As an agriculturist, Mr. Bugeaud directs all his efforts to two ends — to
save labor, and obtain cheap bread. When he prefers a good plough to a bad
one; when he improves his pastures; when, in order to pulverize the soil, he
substitutes as much as possible the action of the weather for that of the
harrow and the hoe; when he calls to his aid all the processes of which
science and experiment have proved the efficacy — he has but one object in
view, viz. to diminish the proportion of effort to result. We have indeed no
other test of the ability of a cultivator, and the perfection of his
processes, than to measure to what extent they have lessened the one and
added to the other. And as all the farmers in the world act upon this
principle we may assert that the effort of mankind at large is to obtain, for
their own benefit undoubtedly, bread and all other products cheaper, to
lessen the labor needed to procure a given quantity of what they want.
This incontestable tendency of mankind once established should, it would
seem, reveal to the legislator the true principle, and point out to him in
what way he should aid industry (in so far as it falls within his province to
aid it); for it would be absurd to assert that human laws should run counter
to the laws of Providence.
And yet we have heard Mr. Bugeaud, as a legislator, exclaim: "I
understand nothing of this theory of cheapness; I should like better to see
bread dearer and labor more abundant." And following out this doctrine,
the representative of the Dordogne votes legislative measures, the effect of
which is to hamper exchanges, for the very reason that they procure us
indirectly what direct production could procure us only at greater expense.
Now, it is very evident that Mr. Bugeaud's principle as a legislator is directly
opposed to the principle on which he acts as an agriculturist. To act
consistently he should vote against all legislative restriction, or else
import into his farming operations the principle that he proclaims from the
tribune. We should then see him sow his corn in his most barren fields, for
in this way he would succeed in working much to obtain little. We should see
him throwing aside the plough, since hand-culture would satisfy his double
wish for dearer bread and more abundant labor.
Intervention has for its avowed object, and its acknowledged effect, to
increase labor.
It has also for its avowed object, and its acknowledged effect, to cause
dearness, which means simply scarcity of products; so that, carried out to
its extreme limits, it is pure sisyphism, such as we have defined it — labor
infinite, product nil.
Baron Charles Dupin, the light of the peerage, it is said, on economic
science, accuses railways of injuring navigation; and it is certain that it
is of the nature of a better means of conveyance to reduce the use of a worse
means of conveyance. But railways cannot hurt navigation except by attracting
traffic; and they cannot attract traffic but by conveying goods and
passengers more cheaply; and they cannot convey them more cheaply but by
diminishing the proportion that the effort employed bears to the result
obtained, seeing that that is the very thing that constitutes cheapness.
When, then, Baron Dupin deplores this diminution of the labor employed to
effect a given result, it is the doctrine of sisyphism he preaches.
Logically, since he prefers the ship to the rail, he should prefer the cart
to the ship, the pack-saddle to the cart, and the pannier to all other known
means of conveyance, for it is the latter that exacts the most labor with the
least result.
"Work constitutes the wealth of a people," said Mr. de
Saint-Cricq, that minister of commerce who has imposed so many restrictions
upon trade. We must not suppose that this was an elliptical expression,
meaning, "The results of work constitute the wealth of a people."
No, this economist distinctly intended to affirm that it is the intensity of
labor that is the measure of wealth, and the proof of it is that, from
consequence to consequence, from one restriction to another, he induced France
(and in this he thought he was doing her good) to expend double the amount of
labor, in order, for example, to provide herself with an equal quantity of
iron. In England iron was then at 8 francs, while in France it cost 16
francs. Taking a day's labor at one franc, it is clear that France could, by
means of exchange, procure a quintal of iron by subtracting eight days' work
from the aggregate national labor. In consequence of the restrictive measures
of Mr. de Saint-Cricq, France was obliged to expend 16 days' labor in order
to provide herself with a quintal of iron by direct production. Double the
labor for the same satisfaction, hence double the wealth. Then it follows
that wealth is not measured by the result, but by the intensity of the labor.
Is not this sisyphism in all its purity?
And in order that there may be no mistake as to his meaning, the minister
takes care afterwards to explain more fully his ideas; and as he had just
before called the intensity of labor wealth, he goes on to call the more
abundant results of that labor, or the more abundant supply of things proper
to satisfy our wants, poverty. "Everywhere," he says,
"machinery has taken the place of manual labor; everywhere production
superabounds; everywhere the equilibrium between the faculty of producing and
the means of consuming is destroyed." We see, then, to what, in Mr. de
Saint-Cricq's estimation, the critical situation of the country was owing: it
was to having produced too much, and her labor being too intelligent, and too
fruitful. We were too well fed, too well clothed, too well provided with
everything; a too rapid production surpassed all our desires. It was
necessary, then, to put a stop to the evil, and for that purpose to force us,
by restrictions, to labor more in order to produce less.
I have referred likewise to the opinions of another minister of commerce,
Mr. d'Argout. They deserve to be dwelt upon for an instant. Desiring to
strike a formidable blow at beet-root culture, he says, "Undoubtedly,
the cultivation of beet-root is useful, but this utility is limited. The
developments attributed to it are exaggerated. To be convinced of this it is
sufficient to observe that this culture will be necessarily confined within
the limits of consumption. Double, triple, if you will, the present
consumption of France, you will always find that a very trifling portion of
the soil will satisfy the requirements of that consumption." (This is
surely rather a singular subject of complaint!) "Do you desire proof of
this? How many hectares had we under beet-root in 1828? — 3,130, which is
equivalent to 1/10,540th of our arable land. At the present time, when
indigenous sugar supplies one-third of our consumption, how much land is
devoted to that culture? — 16,700 hectares, or 1/1,978th of the arable land,
or 45 centiares in each commune. Suppose indigenous sugar already supplied
our whole consumption we should have only 48,000 hectares under beetroot, or
1/689th of the arable land."[2]
There are two things to be remarked upon in this quotation — the facts and
the doctrine. The facts tend to prove that little land, little capital, and
little labor are required to produce a large quantity of sugar, and that each
commune of France would be abundantly provided by devoting to beet-root
cultivation one hectare of its soil. The doctrine consists in regarding this
circumstance as adverse, and in seeing in the very power and fertility of the
new industry, a limit to its utility.
I do not mean to constitute myself here the defender of beetroot culture,
or a judge of the strange facts advanced by Mr. d'Argout; but it is
worthwhile to scrutinize the doctrine of a statesman to whom France for a
long time entrusted the care of her agriculture and of her commerce.
I remarked at the outset that a variable relation exists between an
industrial effort and its result; that absolute imperfection consists in an
infinite effort without any result; absolute perfection in an unlimited
result without any effort; and perfectibility in the progressive diminution
of effort compared with the result.
But Mr. d'Argout tells us there is death where we think we perceive life,
and that the importance of any branch of industry is in direct proportion to
its powerlessness. What are we to expect, for instance, from the cultivation
of beet-root? Do you not see that 48,000 hectares of land, with capital and
manual labor in proportion, are sufficient to supply all France with sugar?
Then, this is a branch of industry of limited utility; limited, of course,
with reference to the amount of labor it demands, the only way in which,
according to the ex-minister, any branch of industry can be useful. This
utility would be still more limited if, owing to the fertility of the soil
and the richness of the beet-root, we could reap from 24,000 hectares what at
present we only obtain from 48,000. Oh! Were only 20 times, 100 times, more
land, capital and labor necessary to yield us the same result, so much the
better. We might build some hopes on this new branch of industry, and it
would be worthy of state protection, for it would offer a vast field to our
national industry. But to produce much with little! That is a bad example,
and it is time for the law to interfere.
But what is true with regard to sugar cannot be otherwise with regard to
bread. If, then, the utility of any branch of industry is to be estimated not
by the amount of satisfaction it is fitted to procure us with a determinate
amount of labor, but, on the contrary, by the amount of labor it exacts in
order to yield us a determinate amount of satisfactions, what we ought
evidently to desire is, that each acre of land should yield less corn, and
each grain of corn less nourishment; in other words, that our land should be
comparatively barren; for then the quantity of land, capital, and manual
labor that would be required for the maintenance of our population would be
much more considerable; we could then say that the demand for human labor
would be in direct proportion to this barrenness. The aspirations of Misters
Bugeaud, Saint-Cricq, Dupin, and d'Argout would then be satisfied; bread
would be dear, labor abundant, and France rich — rich at least in the sense
in which these gentlemen understand the word.
What we should desire also is that human intelligence should be enfeebled
or extinguished; for as long as it survives, it will be continually
endeavoring to augment the proportion that the end bears to the means, and
that the product bears to the labor. It is in that precisely that
intelligence consists.
Thus, it appears that sisyphism has been the doctrine of all the men who
have been entrusted with our industrial destinies. It would be unfair to
reproach them with it. This principle guides ministers only because it is
predominant in the Chambers; and it predominates in the Chambers only because
it is sent there by the electoral body, and the electoral body is imbued with
it only because public opinion is saturated with it.
I think it right to repeat here that I do not accuse men such as Misters
Bugeaud, Dupin, Saint-Cricq, and d'Argout of being absolutely and under all
circumstances sisyphists. They are certainly not so in their private
transactions; for in these they always desire to obtain by way of exchange
what would cost them dearer to procure by direct production; but I affirm
they are sisyphists when they hinder the country from doing the same thing.