| Work and Wealth (ebook.html) |
CHAPTER VIII: HUMAN COSTS IN THE
SUPPLY OF CAPITAL
§1. So far, in discussing the human 'costs' of production, we
have confined our attention to the activities of body and mind directly
operative in producing marketable goods or services, grading them from the
creative and generally 'costless' work of the artist and inventor to the
repetitive and 'costly' work of the routine manual labourer. We now proceed to
examine the human costs involved in the processes of providing the capital which
cooperates with labour in the various productive operations. The economic
'costs', for which payment is made out of the product to capital, are two,
risk-taking and saving. What are the human costs involved in these economic
costs?
To clear the ground for this enquiry it will be well to begin by
making plain the sense in which risk-taking and saving are 'productive'
activities. Neither of them is 'work' in the ordinary organic sense of the
application of muscle or nervous energy to the production of wealth. Both would
rather be considered as activities of the human will and judgment which increase
the efficiency of the directly productive operations. Their productivity may
thus be regarded as indirect. But it is none the less real and important on that
account. For unless there was postponement of some consumption which might have
taken place, and the application of the non-consumptive goods, which this
postponement enabled to come into existence, to uses involving risks of loss,
'work' would be very unproductive in comparison with what it is.
Risk-taking,
the giving up of a present certain utility or satisfaction for the chance of a
larger but less certain satisfaction in the future, is, we know, the essence of
business enterprise. Such enterprise by no means always entails a human cost. In
industry, as in all human functions, experiments, involving risk, are frequently
a source of vital interest and of conscious satisfaction. There are two roots of
this satisfaction, the staking of one's judgment and skill in forecasting and
determining future events, and the actual joy of hazard. The former is a common
trait of intelligent personality, the latter a powerful, though less general
motive, involving a 'sporting' interest in life. The spirit of adventure applied
to business, enhances the conscious values. Whether it be motived by some
physical restlessness or by some element of faith, it must be accounted an
organic good, alike as means and end. If all the risk-taking involved in current
industry were of this nature, it would not then figure in our bill of human
costs, but on the other side of the account. But where the conditions of actual
business impose elements of risk that are either in kind or magnitude
compulsory, not voluntary, not only does no satisfaction attend the taking of
these risks, but considerable loss and suffering may accrue. Risks that are
either great in themselves or great in relation to the capacity to bear them are
frequently required by the conditions of modern business enterprise. The men who
undergo these risks do not deliberately or with express intention stake their
faith and foresight on a game of gain or loss, or even enter into the risks with
the gambler's zest. They undergo these risks because they cannot help
themselves, and the anxiety attendant on these risks is often one of the
heaviest psychical and physical costs of the business man.
§2. In analysing
risk-taking as a special cost of capital, I must guard against one
misunderstanding. Risk-taking, of both sorts, humanly good and humanly bad, is
not of course by any means confined to administration of capital. Everyone who,
either by choice or by the necessity of his situation, devotes his personal
energies to making any product for the market, or to improving some personal
capacity with a view to its productive use, incurs risks. In some cases the
risks may not indeed entail real human waste, as where the artist or inventor
speculates with his creative faculty. Or the professional man, preparing for his
career, may willingly and with zest enter a competition in which prizes are few.
Men equipped with vigorous intellect and determination will get out of the
struggle for professional or commercial success a satisfaction of which the risk
of failure is a necessary condition. But for most men a small quantum of hazard
suffices. A little risk may stimulate but a larger risk will depress efficiency.
A doctor, a lawyer, an engineer is willing to put his natural and acquired
ability against those of his fellows in a fair field where the chances of
success are reasonably large. But when the risks are so numerous and so
incalculable as they are to-day in most professional careers, the anxiety they
cause must be accounted a heavy human cost. The same applies to the career of
most modern business men. It also constitutes a new and growing cost of
labour.
For though it may be true that the actual risks of a working life,
personal or economic, are no greater than in former times, the emotional and
intellectual realisation of these risks is growing. Education enables and
compels the intelligent workman to understand the precarious nature of his
livelihood, and his growing sensibility accumulates in 'worry'. This is
certainly one of the main sources of 'industrial unrest'.
But though
risk-taking thus enters as a human cost into the life of other owners of
productive powers, we do right to accord it special attention in relation to the
supply of capital. For in the provision of all forms of capital, and in the
payment for its use, risk-taking is an element of primary importance, and,
though in theory separable from the act of abstinence, postponement, or waiting,
which comes into prominence as the direct psychical cost of saving, it is not
separable in industrial practice.
§3. Let us first examine the economic costs
involved in the provision of industrial capital. That process consists in
making, or causing to be made, non-consumable goods, which are useful for
assisting the future production of consumable goods, instead of making, or
causing to be made, directly consumable goods. We need not discuss at length the
shallow criticism pressed by some socialists to the effect that since labour
makes all goods whether non-consumable or consumable, the only economic and
human cost of providing these forms of capital is the productive energy of
labour. For the decision and effort of mind or will, which determines that
non-consumables shall be made instead of consumables, proceeds not from the
labour employed in making them, but from the owners of income who decide to save
instead of spending. This decision to save instead of spending is the economic
force which causes so much of the productive power of labour to occupy itself in
making non-consumables. It is of the first importance that the ordinary business
man, to whom 'saving' is apt to mean putting money in a bank, or buying shares,
shall realise the concrete significance of his action. What he is really doing
is causing to be made and to be maintained some addition to the existing fabric
of material instruments for furthering the future production of commodities.
This is not, as it may at first appear, a single act of choice, the
determination to use a portion of one's income, say £100, in paying men to make
steel rails or to put up a factory chimney, instead of paying them to make
clothes, furniture, or wine for one's current consumption. The effort of
postponement, or the preference of uncertain future for certain present
consumables, necessary for supplying capital, if it is an effort, is a
continuous one lasting all the time the capital is in use. The critic who asks,
why a single 'act of abstinence' which is past and done with should be rewarded
by a perpetual payment of annual interest, fails to realise that, so far as
saving involves a serviceable action of the saver, it goes on all the time that
the saver lies out of the full present enjoyment of his property, i.e., as long
as his savings continue to function as productive instruments.
This view, of
course, by no means begs the question whether there is of necessity and always
some human cost or sacrifice involved in such a process of saving. It is,
indeed, clear that a good deal of capital may be supplied without any human
costs either in postponement of current satisfaction or in risk-taking. The
squirrel stores nuts by an organic instinct of economy against the winter, as
the bear stores fat. The thrifty housewife lays up provisions by a calculation
hardly less instinctive against the probable requirements of the family in the
near future. The balancing of future against present satisfaction, involved in
such processes, cannot be considered as involving any human cost, but rather
some slight balance of utility. I am certainly in no sense the loser in that I
do not lay out all my income the same day that i receive it in purchasing
immediate satisfaction. Why I am not the loser is evident. The first 5 per cent
of my income I can perhaps spend advantageously at once upon necessaries and
comforts which contribute immediately to my welfare. But if I know the sum has
got to last me for six months, it will evidently pay me in organic welfare to
spread nearly all the rest in a series of expenditures over the whole period, so
that I may have these necessaries and comforts all the time. If my income is no
more than just sufficient to keep me in full health, i.e., in providing vital
'necessaries', organic welfare demands a quite even expenditure, entailing the
proper quantity of postponement. If there is anything over for expenditure on
unnecessaries, this will not be quite evenly spread over the six months. For any
comforts it affords appear to bring more pleasure if enjoyed now than in three
or six months' time.1 And, besides, there is the question of uncertainty of
life, upon the one hand, and the risk of being unable to get bold of the future
comforts when I may want them. This depreciation of future as compared with
present satisfaction and these risks will properly induce me to grade downwards
the expenditure on comforts during the period in question. But in this laying
out of my income, so as to secure for myself the maximum of satisfaction and
utility,2 there is no human cost or sacrifice. On the contrary, any failure to
'save' or 'postpone' might be attended by a heavy cost. Many a savage has died
of starvation because he has gorged to repletion instead of storing food to tide
him over till he gets possession of a new supply. Thus this simplest economy of
saving, the spreading of consumption over a period of time, is evidently
costless.
§4. Now, though the saving which consists in keeping stores of
consumables for future consumption does not furnish what would be called
capital, and so does not come directly within the scope of our particular
enquiry into 'costs of capital,' it gives a useful test for the economy of
saving under modern capitalism. The modern saver does not, indeed, usually keep
in his possession for future consumption a store of consumable goods. It would
be inconvenient to store them, many of them are by nature perishable and so
incapable of storage. Besides, modern industry affords him a way of making
industrial society store them for him, or, more strictly, makes it produce a
constant supply of fresh consumables to which he can get access. Nay, it
provides still better for his needs, for it enables him, by postponing some
present consumption to which he is entitled, not merely to take out of the
constant social supply the full equivalent of his postponed consumption at any
time he chooses, but to receive an additional small regular claim upon other
consumptive or productive goods, called interest.
This extra payment was
regarded by the classical economists as a cost or price paid for an effort of
abstinence. More recent economists have usually chosen to substitute for
abstinence 'waiting' or some equally colourless term. But abstinence is better,
for it does suggest a painful effort involving some human cost, some play of
motives naturally adverse to saving which requires to be overcome by a positive
economic payment. Thus, not merely the economic, but the moral or human
necessity of interest is best asserted.
This abstinence or postponement of
possible present consumption of commodities is admittedly the condition or even
the cause of the supply of the productive instruments which increase the
production of future wealth and incidentally furnish the fund out of which the
interest is paid. For our present purpose, then, it makes no difference whether
we look at the primitive saving which stored consumables for future use, or the
modern saving which causes productive instruments to be created, applied and
maintained. The question whether there are human costs of saving, and what they
are, is in the last resort the same in both cases.
Out of any individual, or
social, income a certain amount or proportion of saving evidently may be
'costless' in the human sense. That is to say, the person or society that saves
it sustains no organic loss or injury by doing so, though he may sometimes think
or feel he does. If he does so think or feel, society must set a counter-weight
against this false imaginary loss, in the shape of interest. But, as we have
already noted, there is a good deal of saving which represents the calculated
outlay over a period of time, which the owner of an income will make in his own
interest. In such cases there is no human cost, and if an economic cost
(interest) is defrayed, it has no human correlative. From the standpoint of
human distribution of wealth it involves a waste.
The organic utility to
individuals of hoarding, in order, by distributing consumption over a longer
period of time, to get from it a larger aggregate of goods, will thus furnish a
considerable quantity of instrumental capital to modern industry. For, only by
putting the postponed consumption into the form of instrumental capital, can the
savers establish the lien they want upon the future output of consumables. If
all the required capital could be got by this simple play of motives, the savers
balancing more useful future units of consumption against less useful present
units, with due allowance for risks connected with postponement, the supply of
capital would be humanly 'costless.' Though some element of risk, inherent in
the proceeding, would, taken by itself, carry a cost, the superior utility
attaching to the postponed units of consumption, as compared with that which the
same number of units would afford when added to the consumption already
provided, would offset that cost, so that the arrangement, as a whole, would be
costless.
§5. Though the method of our analysis has obliged us to approach
this problem of saving as part of our enquiry into processes of production,
because it is the means by which a productive factor, viz. capital, is supplied,
it appertains directly to the process of consumption, or outlay of income on
consumables. As the current expenditure of any member of industrial society will
be distributed among a number of different purchases, contributing by natural,
conventional, or purely personal connections, towards a standard of consumption
endowed with maximum utility (or what the consumer takes for such), so will it
be with the distribution of expenditure over points of time. Let us elevate into
a clear conscious policy of calculation what is in large measure a blind
instinctive conduct, and the organic relation between the two 'economies' is
apparent. It involves an intricate balancing of larger future utilities,
weighted by risks, against smaller present utilities not so weighted. To take
the simplest instance. If, out of an income of £600 coming in this year, I
decide to consume £500 in the current expenditure of the year and to put aside
£100 for consumption in five years' time (when I purpose to work only half-time
and earn only half my present income), I shall have estimated that the luxuries
which i could buy this year by the sixth hundred pounds expenditure are slightly
less agreeable or 'useful' to me than the comforts purchasable by the fourth
hundred pounds as visualised five years off, with an allowance for the chance
that i may then be dead, or that I may have come into a legacy which renders
this postponement of consumption unnecessary. In a word, this economic ego must
be conceived as operating by a plan of outlay which, in regard to the disposal
of the current income, has a longitude and latitude of survey and valuation.
Just as the different ingredients of present consumption make a complex organic
whole with delicately proportioned parts, the size and form of each dictated by
the unified conception of the current standard of comfort, so the disposition of
the income over a series of points of time in which present values of each
several consumable and of the whole standard are compared with future values,
involves the similar application of a plan for the realisation of my economic
ideal. Though a fully rational conception and calculus, either for the
composition of current expenditure or for prospective outlays, is very rare,
some half-conscious, half-instinctive calculus of the sort must be accredited to
everybody.3 So far as it is rightly conducted by their reasoning or just
instinct, it means that, out of all or most of the members of an industrial
society, some humanly costless saving could be got, some contribution towards
the socially desirable fund of capital.
§6. As, then, we have seen that a
certain proportion of the various current activities, which are directly
productive in the shape of skilled and unskilled labour of brain and hand, are
either humanly costless or carry some positive fund of human utility, so is it
also with the processes of saving and risk-taking, which go to the supply and
maintenance of capital. It is not difficult to conceive a society in which all
the saving needed for the normal development of industry might be costless. In a
primitive society, based chiefly on agriculture and simple handicrafts, one
might find the bulk of the working population earning a secure and sufficient
livelihood, but with no margin of savings for instrumental capital. The
comparatively small amount of such capital as was needed might be furnished
mainly or entirely from the surplus incomes of a landowning or a governing
class, extracted as rent or taxes. Of course, if, as would commonly occur, such
rents or taxes were extorted from the peasantry by starving them or by imposing
a burden of excessive toil, the human costs of such saving would be very heavy.
But where a class of feudal lords drew moderate rents and fines from their
tenants, or where a governing caste, such as the Incas in ancient Peru, applied
to useful public works a large share of what would be called the 'economic rent'
of the country, taken in taxation, such saving need entail no human cost. Nor is
such costless provision of capital necessarily confined to a society living
under simple industrial conditions in which comparatively little saving can be
utilised. Even in an advanced industrial society the large incessant increments
of capital might be provided costlessly. For if the national dividend were not
only very large but so well or equably distributed, as income, that all classes
had more than enough to satisfy their current organic needs, such a society
would, by a virtually automatic economy, secrete stores of capital to meet the
future needs of a growing population or a rising standard of consumption, as
every animal organism naturally lays up stores of fat, muscle and physical
energy, for future use.
A well-ordered socialistic state, were such possible,
would certainly apply the industrial forces at its disposal, so as to secure an
adequate supply of costless capital. After making proper provision out of
current industry for the physical and moral health of the whole population, and
for normal progress in personal efficiency of work and life, it would apply the
surplus of industrial energy to improving the capital fabric of industry so as
to provide for the production of increasing wealth, leisure, and other
opportunities in the future. The calculation, as to what proportion of current
industrial energy should be thus applied to preparing future economic goods to
ripen for utility at various distances of time, would of course be a delicate
operation. But so far as it were correctly carried out, it would be socially
costless. For on the hypothesis that adequate provision for current needs of
individual stability and progress had been a first charge on the industrial
dividend, the postponement of any additional consumption involved in social
saving could not rightly be regarded as involving any net human cost. For, if,
instead of the surplus being saved, it had been paid out to individual members
of society for current consumption, it would ex hypothesi be unproductive of
organic welfare, being applied in an injurious and wasteful attempt to force the
pace of advances in the current standard of living. Applying the organic
metaphor, one would say that it was a natural function of an organised society
to secrete capital in due quantity for its future life.
§7. But how far can
it be held that an industrial society like ours is so organised as 'naturally'
to secrete the 'right' quantity of capital, to provide it in a costless way, and
to distribute it economically among its various uses? A full answer to these
questions must be deferred until our analysis of the consumption side of the
national dividend enables us to assess the human utility of the productive work
to which capital is applied. At present we must assume the utility of the
£300,000,000 of savings applied out of the aggregate national income to the
enlargement of industry, and confine ourselves to enquiring what proportion of
this amount is likely to be 'costless' and how to estimate the 'human costs'
attached to the other part. It is, of course, quite evident that such answer as
can be given is of a general and speculative nature, with no pretence at
quantitative exactitude.
In considering savings with an eye to discovering
the human costs. It will be well to classify these savings under three heads.
First will come what may be termed the automatic saving of the surplus income of
the rich, that which, remaining over, after all wants, inclusive of luxuries,
are satiated, accumulates for investment. The proportion of new capital
proceeding from this source will vary with the amount and regularity of such
income, its distribution among the rich, and their attitude of mind towards the
expenditure of their incomes. The automatic or spontaneous character of this
saving is due to the fact that no close relation exists between progress in
industry and the evolution of a personal standard of consumption. Sudden rapid
advances of income are not usually accompanied by a corresponding pressure of
new personal wants tending immediately to absorb in increasing expenditure each
increase of income. Though no limit can be set upon the expenses of a luxurious
standard of consumption and the vagaries of personal extravagance, expensive
habits take time for their establishment, and in a progressive industrial
society where skilful, or lucky, business men are making fortunes rapidly, their
acquisitive power will be apt to run far ahead of their consumptive practice.
Moreover, the absorption in the practice of making money evidently retards the
full acquisition of habits of lavish expenditure, giving full scope to the
development neither of tastes nor of opportunities. This will be particularly
true of incomes growing not by regular increments but by sudden rushes. Extreme
instances abound in the recent history of America. Where the quick skilful
seizure of new sudden opportunities, conjoined with a general development of
national resources at an abnormally rapid pace, enables a Jay Gould or a John D.
Rockefeller to amass millions within a few years, a wide natural divergence is
created between income and expenditure. Enormous masses of unspent income thus
roll up into capital which again continually grows by the accumulation of the
unspent interest it earns. Though the number of persons in this position of
financial magnitude is very few, a considerable class of successful business men
in America and in every advanced European country comes into the same category
as regards capacity of saving. While their personal and family expenditure may
be continually rising, it will tend to keep in safe adjustment to what may be
termed a conservative estimate of their income. The occasional great trading
coups, the enormous profits of a commercial or financial boom, will not even
tend to be assimilated in expenditure.
Wherever the economic circumstances of
a country are such as to throw a large proportion of the growing wealth into the
hands of a class of busy rising men, by a series of great windfalls or more or
less incalculable increments, the new capital flowing from these superfluous
incomes will be large. Moreover, so far as it is automatic, it will have little
if any regard to rate of interest, and thus to 'social demand', so far as
interest can be considered a just index of social demand.4
Even when the
element of fluctuating or fortuitous increase of income is not present, a fairly
rapid advance of income, particularly where it is 'earned' and therefore carries
no presumption of indefinite continuance, will ordinarily leave a considerable
margin of automatic saving. This will be larger where the standard of living is
already established on a high level. For though certain curious psychological
traits seem to show an extraordinary concentration of personal interest in the
extravagances which give personal distinction in 'society', the low pressure of
organic utility, or the emergence of positive disutility inherent in many of
these forms of luxury, must be considered to exercise some check. Putting the
matter simply, one would say that real primary human needs are more readily
assimilated in a standard of consumption than purely conventional or positively
injurious modes of expenditure. So, making every allowance for the depravity of
tastes and the zest for competitive extravagance, it will remain true that the
classes with large incomes will tend to contribute to capital a large amount of
surplus income by a process of automatic accumulation.
For such saving there
is neither an economic nor a human cost involved: the interest it receives is in
the economic sense as much a 'surplus' as the rent of land. Not merely is there
no human cost, there is a positive human utility in such saving, for it is an
instinctive rejection of the injurious effort to incorporate this surplus in a
current expenditure already adequate to satisfy all felt wants, good or
bad.
It is likely that a large and a growing proportion of the total volume
of saving in England and in the Western world is of this order. For though it
may not be generally true that the rich are growing richer and the poor poorer,
it is probably true that both a larger quantity and a larger proportion of the
national income are in the hands of rich and well-to-do business men whose means
have been advanCing faster than their expenditure.
§8. So much for the
automatic saving of the rich. We have next to take into account the admittedly
large contribution of the classes who in respect of income are 'middle'. This
comprises the great majority of families engaged in the directive work of
manufacture and commerce, and almost the whole of the upper grades of the
professional and official classes in such a country as ours, as well as a
considerable number of persons of moderate 'independent' means. A certain amount
of conscious 'thrift' is traditional in these classes. It is by no means
automatic, but involves for the most part some conscious sacrifice of current
satisfaction in favour of a greater estimated future satisfaction to the saver
or his family. The motives which influence such saving, alike in its amount and
its application as capital, are complex and various. But the sacrifice ascribed
to such saving cannot be assumed to involve any economic cost, in the sense that
it requires the payment of economic interest to evoke it. Still less can it be
assumed to involve a human cost. A good deal of this middle-class saving, though
less automatic than the savings of the rich, is a calculated postponement of
some expenditure which might purchase present comforts or luxuries, in order to
make provision for the purchase of necessaries or conveniences at some future
time. In a word, it is of the nature of the 'stocking' saving, which the
better-to-do peasants have always practised before the opportunities of
profitable and fairly safe investment were open to them. Though utilised to earn
interest, the saving would be made just the same if no objective interest were
attainable, provided it were tolerably secure against pillage or destruction.
Risk counts for more than interest in such saving, and the bulk of the so-called
interest which such savings demand, as a condition of loan or investment, is not
true interest but insurance. But in practice inseparable from such saving is
that undertaken with the direct object of earning interest upon the capital. A
great deal of middle-class saving, and some saving of the rich class would not
take place without the hope of receiving interest. If no interest were
attainable, though some saving might take place, in order to provide against the
possibility of a total collapse of current earning power and a consequent
deprivation of the necessaries of life, there would be little disposition to
give up any present free expenditure on comforts in order to provide for future
comforts which might not be wanted, or which, in consequence of loss of savings,
might not be procurable. A positive bonus in the shape of interest seems
necessary to evoke this latter saving. The operation of this bonus as an
inducement is, however, very complex. It might appear at first sight obvious
that, the larger the bonus in the shape of rate of interest, the greater the
aggregate of saving it would evoke. So far as non-automatic saving is motived by
a general desire to be better off in the future, in order to attain a standard
of consumption and of social consideration which denote success and satisfy
personal ambition, or in order to bequeath a large estate to one's family,
higher interest will tend to evoke a corresponding increase of saving in those
whose current incomes enable them to save considerable sums without encroaching
upon their established standard of comfort. Young or middle-aged men, of an
aspiring nature and with rising incomes, will undoubtedly save more if they see
a handsome return on their investments. But, as most men will realise more
clearly and feel more keenly these future economic and social gains if the full
fruits of such savings will be reaped by themselves, not by their heirs, ageing
men will be likely to respond less freely to this motive. Present comfort,
security, and power, will mean more to them than a future liberality of living
which they can only hope to enjoy for a few years, if at all. The amount,
therefore, of the acceleration of saving achieved by a rise of interest will
depend a good deal upon the relative importance this general desire to be better
off possesses as an inducement to save. That relative importance again will
depend a good deal upon whether the economic and social conditions of the
community place considerable numbers of younger business or professional men in
a position of rising incomes and of considerable saving power, or, on the
contrary, confine such surpluses chiefly to older men.
If, instead of taking
as our motive a general desire to be better off, we take a desire to save in
order to make some limited specific provision, as for example to buy an annuity
of £100, the effect of a higher rate of interest upon volume of saving is likely
to be different. Though it may serve to quicken in some degree the pace at which
the sum required will be amassed, it will reduce the absolute amount of saving.
For when interest is higher, the capital sum required to yield an annuity of
£100 a year will be less than before. Against this, however, must be set the
fact that, when a definite sum is needed in order to pay off some debt, or to
furnish a sufficiency for retirement, a high rate of interest may be required in
order to make this saving possible or certain. If a man cannot save enough to
attain such definite object, he will not save at all, for an insufficient amount
will be held futile; whereas, if a rise of interest gives him a good prospect of
saving the required amount, he will put forth the effort.
§9. But making due
allowance for counteracting motives, it is tolerably certain that a rise of
interest, showing any signs of continuance, will stimulate an increase of
'motived' saving, though by no means a proportionate increase. Thus it will
appear that, so far as this large section of middle-class saving is concerned,
some definite measurable economic costs, in the sense of deprivation of current
consumption, are involved, requiring compensation in the shape of interest. But
the question which concerns us is whether there are human costs corresponding to
and involved in these economic costs. In answering this question, it is not
enough to point to the admitted fact that this saving involves the failure to
satisfy some current desire for increased consumption. It has to be considered
whether the sacrifice of current 'satisfaction' is really a sacrifice of
welfare, either from the standpoint of the saver, or of the society of which he
is a member. For we have not taken the view that the personal transient desires
and valuations of consumers are a final criterion, either of personal or social
welfare. If then the saving evoked by paying interest merely means that certain
fairly well-to-do folks abstain from comforts or luxuries, which, though
agreeable and innocent, carry no organic benefit, there is no human cost, or
even if there is some slight cost, it may be offset by the individual or social
benefit resulting from the postponement of consumption. A large proportion of
motived middle-class saving undoubtedly falls within this category. But by no
means all. A good deal of lower middle-class saving eats into certain factors of
humanly serviceable expenditure, particularly expenditure in education of the
young. Frequently it injures the free life of the home by the constant pressure
of niggling economies, which, though not perhaps injurious in the particular
privations they impose, leave no margin for the small pleasures and amenities
which have a vital value. Even though we assume that such saving brings, in the
ownership of property and the interest it yields, a full vital compensation to
the individual who saves, it by no means follows that it is socially justified,
when a true criterion of social welfare is applied. Take for instance the saving
which is diverted from expenditure on education, precluding the children from
getting a university or professional training and turning them on the world to
earn a living, less effectively equipped than they might have been. Society may
be a heavy loser by its policy of evoking such thrift by means of interest, for
it obtains a certain amount of material capital in place of the more valuable
intellectual or moral capital which the money, expended upon education, might
have yielded. Even regarded from the standpoint of future economic productivity,
the stimulation of this sort of saving is likely to be injurious.
§10. Far
graver importance attaches to this consideration when we approach the savings of
the working-classes. The contribution made from this source to the flow of fresh
capital, the £300,000,000 per annum, is evidently attended by heavy human costs.
Very little of it can be regarded as the considered reasonable outlay over a
long period of time of income not needed for current organically useful
consumption. Most of it involves a stinting of the prime necessaries or
conveniences of life, or of some rise in present expenditure which would promote
the health or efficiency of the family. Almost the only saving made by ordinary
wage-earners not attended by this human sacrifice is that applied by young
workers, who having only themselves to keep, can afford to set aside some
portion of their pay in full employment so as to furnish a future home, and to
insure against a few special emergencies involving loss of earning power or
expenses connected with death or sickness. Even such personally serviceable
insurances the married worker can seldom properly afford. Though the narrower
view of the economy of a self-sufficing family may appear to justify savings
made out of a wage the entire present expenditure of which can be applied to
purposes of organically useful consumption, the wider social standpoint does not
endorse this policy. For a workman to pinch on housing, clothing, the education
of his children, or upon wholesome recreation, in order to avoid worse pinching
in some unforeseen but probable emergency, may be sound individual economy. But,
unless society is unable from other resources at its disposal to provide against
these emergencies of working-class life, it is an unsound social economy,
involving a heavy net cost of social welfare. The issue is a very vital one. It
may be stated in this concrete form. Most of the savings effected in this
country out of a family income of 30/ or less per week, and much of the savings
made out of a larger income when the worker's family is young, involve a sort of
abstinence which is fraught with heavy net costs in the social economy. No part
of the economically necessary fund of annual capital ought to be drawn from this
sort of saving. It is literally a coining of human life into instrumental
capital, and the degradation of the term 'thrift' in its application to such
saving is a damning commentary upon the false standard of social valuation which
endorses and approves the sacrifice. The great risks of loss which actually
attend such saving, and the heavy expenses of the machinery of its collection
and administration, aggravate the waste. If we ascribe £50,000,0005 out of the
£300,000,000 to this class of savings, a proper social book-keeping would put
the human costs of this working-class abstinence as a large offset to the net
utility of the other £250,000,000. The forethought, endurance, and other real or
supposed benefits to the character of the workers imputed to this 'thrift' can
no more be regarded as a compensation for such social injury, than can the
discipline and fortitude of soldiers be regarded as a testimony to the net human
economy of war.
NOTES:
1. Observe that this appearance is illusory. The maximum of
organic utility would probably involve an even expenditure of all the elements
of income without allowance for my preference of present over future.
2. It
may be urged that, even in respect of necessaries, there will be some discount
for future as compared with present consumption. But in any class of civilised
men, whose income is paid at long intervals, this discount will be very small
and may be ignored.
3. For a discussion of the nature and limitations of this
calculus see Chapter XXI.
4. 'So ingrained is the habit of accumulation among
the prosperous classes of modern society, that it seems to proceed irrespective
of the rate of interest.' Taussig, Principles of Economics, Vol. II, p.
27.
5. This is most likely a gravely excessive estimate. Probably £30,000,000
or 1/10 of the national saving would be nearer the mark. Moreover, a large
proportion of working-class savings is not destined to purposes of permanent
investment but to provision for some early probable emergency, e.g., burial or
unemployment which will cancel the saving. There exist no approximately reliable
estimates of the amount of capital belonging to the working-classes. The usually
accepted figure includes under the head of Post Office Savings Bank and Building
Societies a large but unknown quantity of middle-class savings.
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