When Karl, Rosa, Michal and Maynard met in London[1]
Sergio
Cesaratto
In a previous post I argued that if one wants to
be convinced of the Classical and Sraffian surplus approach, she should read
Jared Diamond. I would add now Jack London’s The Iron Heel (1908) to the list. Although Jack
London is a figure with some ambiguities, this book is prescient of
the bellicose and authoritarian tendencies of capitalism. Orwell considered it
an inspiration for 1984. The book
sounds as a militant, didactic introduction to a Marxist interpretation of
capitalism. In this capacity it uses the surplus approach, but not in its Marxian version that employs the labour theory of value –
pregnant of moralist meanings -, that Marx received from Ricardo’s Principles, but the more terse, so to
speak, material version of Ricardo’s Essay
on Profits. The social surplus, that in a capitalist society is
appropriated by capitalists, appears as the difference between the amount of
commodities produced and the amount of them paid to worker as wages (we are
talking of a novel, so I feel free not to be extremely rigorous; the interested
reader can consult Garegnani 1984).
In Chapter 9 the
hero of the novel (Ernest Everhard) tries to explain to a group of small capitalists
(represented by Mr. Kawalt, Mr. Calvin and others) the structure of capitalism.
The existence of a surplus of commodities seized as profits is
straightforwardly linked by London
to the question of finding a market to them. Foreign markets,
including those in underdeveloped countries, are one possible debouche, as
later Rosa (Luxemburg) and Michal (Kalecki) suggested, but once more and more countries develop, the
difficulty to find a debouche in the “external markets” markets become more difficult
So, either we luddistically destroy productive capacity by going back to
antediluvian methods of production, that is we escape “the problem of the surplus by not producing any surplus”, or through a
more “equitable distribution of the products of the wonderful machines” we avoid
any “unconsumed surplus”. Oligopoly capitalism might however react with
repression and authoritarianism.
(From
Chapter 9)
<<"And now we come to the point. Four billion dollars of
wealth is produced in one year in the United States. Labor buys back and
consumes two billions. Capital does not consume the remaining two billions.
There is a large balance left over unconsumed. What is done with this balance?
What can be done with it? Labor cannot consume any of it, for labor has already
spent all its wages. Capital will not consume this balance, because, already,
according to its nature, it has consumed all it can. And still remains the
balance. What can be done with it? What is done with it?"
"It
is sold abroad," Mr. Kowalt volunteered.
"The
very thing," Ernest agreed. "Because of this balance arises our need
for a foreign market. This is sold abroad. It has to be sold abroad. There is
no other way of getting rid of it. And that unconsumed surplus, sold abroad,
becomes what we call our favorable balance of trade. Are we all agreed so
far?"
"Surely
it is a waste of time to elaborate these A B C's of commerce," Mr. Calvin
said tartly. "We all understand them."
"And
it is by these A B C's I have so carefully elaborated that I shall confound
you," Ernest retorted. "There's the beauty of it. And I'm going to
confound you with them right now. Here goes.
"The
United States
is a capitalist country that has developed its resources. According to its
capitalist system of industry, it has an unconsumed surplus that must be got
rid of, and that must be got rid of abroad. What is true of the United States
is true of every other capitalist country with developed resources. Every one
of such countries has an unconsumed surplus. Don't forget that they have
already traded with one another, and that these surpluses yet remain. Labor in
all these countries has spent it wages, and cannot buy any of the surpluses.
Capital in all these countries has already consumed all it is able according to
its nature. And still remain the surpluses. They cannot dispose of these
surpluses to one another. How are they going to get rid of them?"
"Sell
them to countries with undeveloped resources," Mr. Kowalt suggested.
"The
very thing. You see, my argument is so clear and simple that in your own minds
you carry it on for me. And now for the next step. Suppose the United States disposes of its surplus to a
country with undeveloped resources like, say, Brazil. Remember this surplus is
over and above trade, which articles of trade have been consumed. What, then,
does the United States get
in return from Brazil?"
"Gold,"
said Mr. Kowalt.
"But
there is only so much gold, and not much of it, in the world," Ernest
objected.
"Gold
in the form of securities and bonds and so forth," Mr. Kowalt amended.
"Now
you've struck it," Ernest said. "From Brazil
the United States,
in return for her surplus, gets bonds and securities. And what does that mean?
It means that the United States
is coming to own railroads in Brazil,
factories, mines, and lands in Brazil.
And what is the meaning of that in turn?"
Mr.
Kowalt pondered and shook his head.
"I'll
tell you," Ernest continued. "It means that the resources of Brazil are
being developed. And now, the next point. When Brazil, under the capitalist
system, has developed her resources, she will herself have an unconsumed
surplus. Can she get rid of this surplus to the United States? No, because the United States
has herself a surplus. Can the United States
do what she previously did—get rid of her surplus to Brazil? No, for Brazil now has
a surplus, too.
"What
happens? The United States
and Brazil
must both seek out other countries with undeveloped resources, in order to
unload the surpluses on them. But by the very process of unloading the
surpluses, the resources of those countries are in turn developed. Soon they
have surpluses, and are seeking other countries on which to unload. Now,
gentlemen, follow me. The planet is only so large. There are only so many
countries in the world. What will happen when every country in the world, down
to the smallest and last, with a surplus in its hands, stands confronting every
other country with surpluses in their hands?"
He
paused and regarded his listeners. The bepuzzlement in their faces was delicious.
Also, there was awe in their faces. Out of abstractions Ernest had conjured a
vision and made them see it. They were seeing it then, as they sat there, and
they were frightened by it.
"We
started with A B C, Mr. Calvin," Ernest said slyly. "I have now given
you the rest of the alphabet. It is very simple. That is the beauty of it. You
surely have the answer forthcoming. What, then, when every country in the world
has an unconsumed surplus? Where will your capitalist system be then?"
But
Mr. Calvin shook a troubled head. He was obviously questing back through
Ernest's reasoning in search of an error.
"Let
me briefly go over the ground with you again," Ernest said. "We began
with a particular industrial process, the shoe factory. We found that the division
of the joint product that took place there was similar to the division that
took place in the sum total of all industrial processes. We found that labor
could buy back with its wages only so much of the product, and that capital did
not consume all of the remainder of the product. We found that when labor had
consumed to the full extent of its wages, and when capital had consumed all it
wanted, there was still left an unconsumed surplus. We agreed that this surplus
could only be disposed of abroad. We agreed, also, that the effect of unloading
this surplus on another country would be to develop the resources of that
country, and that in a short time that country would have an unconsumed
surplus. We extended this process to all the countries on the planet, till
every country was producing every year, and every day, an unconsumed surplus,
which it could dispose of to no other country. And now I ask you again, what
are we going to do with those surpluses?"
Still
no one answered.
"Mr.
Calvin?" Ernest queried.
"It
beats me," Mr. Calvin confessed.
"I
never dreamed of such a thing," Mr. Asmunsen said. "And yet it does
seem clear as print."
It
was the first time I had ever heard Karl Marx's doctrine of surplus value
elaborated, and Ernest had done it so simply that I, too, sat puzzled and
dumbfounded.
"I'll
tell you a way to get rid of the surplus," Ernest said. "Throw it
into the sea. Throw every year hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of shoes
and wheat and clothing and all the commodities of commerce into the sea. Won't
that fix it?"
"It
will certainly fix it," Mr. Calvin answered. "But it is absurd for
you to talk that way."
Ernest
was upon him like a flash.
"Is
it a bit more absurd than what you advocate, you machine-breaker, returning to
the antediluvian ways of your forefathers? What do you propose in order to get
rid of the surplus? You would escape the problem of the surplus by not
producing any surplus. And how do you propose to avoid producing a surplus? By
returning to a primitive method of production, so confused and disorderly and
irrational, so wasteful and costly, that it will be impossible to produce a
surplus."
Mr.
Calvin swallowed. The point had been driven home. He swallowed again and
cleared his throat.
"You
are right," he said. "I stand convicted. It is absurd. But we've got
to do something. It is a case of life and death for us of the middle class. We
refuse to perish. We elect to be absurd and to return to the truly crude and
wasteful methods of our forefathers. We will put back industry to its pre-trust
stage. We will break the machines. And what are you going to do about it?"
"But
you can't break the machines," Ernest replied. "You cannot make the
tide of evolution flow backward. Opposed to you are two great forces, each of which
is more powerful than you of the middle class. The large capitalists, the
trusts, in short, will not let you turn back. They don't want the machines
destroyed. And greater than the trusts, and more powerful, is labor. It will
not let you destroy the machines. The ownership of the world, along with the
machines, lies between the trusts and labor. That is the battle alignment.
Neither side wants the destruction of the machines. But each side wants to
possess the machines. In this battle the middle class has no place. The middle
class is a pygmy between two giants. Don't you see, you poor perishing middle
class, you are caught between the upper and nether millstones, and even now has
the grinding begun.
"I
have demonstrated to you mathematically the inevitable breakdown of the
capitalist system. When every country stands with an unconsumed and unsalable
surplus on its hands, the capitalist system will break down under the terrific
structure of profits that it itself has reared. And in that day there won't be
any destruction of the machines. The struggle then will be for the ownership of
the machines. If labor wins, your way will be easy. The United States,
and the whole world for that matter, will enter upon a new and tremendous era.
Instead of being crushed by the machines, life will be made fairer, and
happier, and nobler by them. You of the destroyed middle class, along with
labor—there will be nothing but labor then; so you, and all the rest of labor,
will participate in the equitable distribution of the products of the wonderful
machines. And we, all of us, will make new and more wonderful machines. And
there won't be any unconsumed surplus, because there won't be any
profits."
"But
suppose the trusts win in this battle over the ownership of the machines and
the world?" Mr. Kowalt asked.
"Then,"
Ernest answered, "you, and labor, and all of us, will be crushed under the
iron heel of a despotism as relentless and terrible as any despotism that has
blackened the pages of the history of man. That will be a good name for that
despotism, the Iron Heel.">>
Still, how can an authoritarian capitalism solve the
question of the realization of the capitalists’ surplus. Well, the same way the
Egyptian ruling class solved the question of spending the social surplus, by
building pyramids or other magnificent public works. And, of course, anybody
would wonder at this point if it was Jack London that inspired Maynard’s famous
passages of the General Theory on the pyramids. Capitalists’
autonomous consumption is therefore another “external market” that can provide
a debouche to capitalists’ surplus. Notably “external markets”, or “non capacity-creating autonomous-components” of
aggregate demand do not play a relevant role in so-called neo-Kaleckian growth
models that should more aptly be defined as neo-Harrodian models. Moreover, by using odd
arguments about a variable normal degree of capacity utilization, these models
also abandon the conflict view of distribution proper to the Classical
economists and Marx
(From Chapter
14)
<<"But
if the Oligarchy persists," I asked him that evening, "what will
become of the great surpluses that will fall to its share every year?"
"The
surpluses will have to be expended somehow," he answered; "and trust
the oligarchs to find a way. Magnificent roads will be built. There will be
great achievements in science, and especially in art. When the oligarchs have
completely mastered the people, they will have time to spare for other things.
They will become worshippers of beauty. They will become art-lovers. And under
their direction and generously rewarded, will toil the artists. The result will
be great art; for no longer, as up to yesterday, will the artists pander to the
bourgeois taste of the middle class. It will be great art, I tell you, and
wonder cities will arise that will make tawdry and cheap the cities of old
time. And in these cities will the oligarchs dwell and worship beauty.*
"Thus
will the surplus be constantly expended while labor does the work. The building
of these great works and cities will give a starvation ration to millions of
common laborers, for the enormous bulk of the surplus will compel an equally
enormous expenditure, and the oligarchs will build for a thousand years—ay, for
ten thousand years. They will build as the Egyptians and the Babylonians never
dreamed of building; and when the oligarchs have passed away, their great roads
and their wonder cities will remain for the brotherhood of labor to tread upon
and dwell within.
"These
things the oligarchs will do because they cannot help doing them. These great
works will be the form their expenditure of the surplus will take, and in the
same way that the ruling classes of Egypt of long ago expended the
surplus they robbed from the people by the building of temples and pyramids.
Under the oligarchs will flourish, not a priest class, but an artist class. And
in place of the merchant class of bourgeoisie will be the labor castes. And
beneath will be the abyss, wherein will fester and starve and rot, and ever
renew itself, the common people, the great bulk of the population. And in the
end, who knows in what day, the common people will rise up out of the abyss;
the labor castes and the Oligarchy will crumble away; and then, at last, after
the travail of the centuries, will it be the day of the common man. I had
thought to see that day; but now I know that I shall never see it." >>
As a reminder, here
is Keynes:
<<Ancient
Egypt was doubly fortunate and doubtless owed to this its fabled wealth, in
that it possessed two activities, namely pyramid building as well as the search
for precious metals, the fruits of which, since they could not serve the needs
of man by being consumed, did not stale with abundance. The Middle Ages built
cathedrals and sang dirges. Two pyramids, two masses for the dead, are twice as
good as one; but not so two railways from London
to York.>> (131)
<< In so far as millionaires find their satisfaction in building mighty
mansions to contain their bodies when alive and pyramids to shelter them after
death, or, repenting of their sins, erect cathedrals and endow monasteries or
foreign missions, the day when abundance of capital will interfere with
abundance of output may be postponed. 'To dig holes in the ground', paid for
out of savings, will increase, not only employment, but the real national
dividend of useful goods and services. It is not reasonable, however, that a
sensible community should be content to remain dependent on such fortuitous and
often wasteful mitigations when once we understand the influences upon which
effective demand depends.>> (220)
Even
the outrage, Keynes seems to have got from London.
Yet crisis are still possible, as in the years the
novel takes place, and a conflict can erupt between the mercantilist countries
that struggle to control the external markets (in this regard this post argues
that mercantilism is a constant characteristic of capitalism and advocates that
mercantilism is given its proper place in the Classical surplus approach).
Moreover, wars are another important debouche for capitalists’ surplus, as
Michal later suggested. In the novel the working class of the two mercantilist
countries, the U.S. and (easy guess) Germany, succeed in stopping the world war
– unfortunately socialists failed seven year later in this regard. In the novel
German socialists even succeed in a socialist revolution, also attempted by the
American workers. Unfortunately this attempt failed and was followed by
repression and by three centuries of authoritarian regime, later followed by
the eventual victory of the resilient socialists. Well, socialist actually
tried a failed revolution in post-WWI Germany
(led by Rosa), followed (although not
immediately) by an authoritarian regime. Unfortunately one century later we
have not a full socialist regime, but horrible Angela. Cesaratto’s dream is of course
a final (for Germany)
like that in the novel:
“By the very
nature of the socialist state, the German population would consume all that it
produced. Of course, it would trade abroad certain things it produced for
things it did not produce; but this would be quite different from an unconsumable
surplus.”
In the novel, indeed, the outcome is less positive
for American workers: the retreat from the external markets of the main
mercantilist competitor (the by now socialist Germany) provided even more
justification for the American capitalism to repress internal demand and wages
so to increase the exportable surplus.
(From Chapter
13)
<<The
hard times at home had caused an immense decrease in consumption. Labor, out of
work, had no wages with which to buy. The result was that the Plutocracy found a
greater surplus than ever on its hands. This surplus it was compelled to
dispose of abroad, and, what of its colossal plans, it needed money. Because of
its strenuous efforts to dispose of the surplus in the world market, the
Plutocracy clashed with Germany.
Economic clashes were usually succeeded by wars, and this particular clash was
no exception. The great German war-lord prepared, and so did the United States
prepare.
The
war-cloud hovered dark and ominous. The stage was set for a world-catastrophe, for
in all the world were hard times, labor troubles, perishing middle classes,
armies of unemployed, clashes of economic interests in the world-market, and
mutterings and rumblings of the socialist revolution.
The
Oligarchy wanted the war with Germany.
And it wanted the war for a dozen reasons. In the juggling of events such a war
would cause, in the reshuffling of the international cards and the making of
new treaties and alliances, the Oligarchy had much to gain. And, furthermore,
the war would consume many national surpluses, reduce the armies of unemployed
that menaced all countries, and give the Oligarchy a breathing space in which
to perfect its plans and carry them out. Such a war would virtually put the
Oligarchy in possession of the world-market. Also, such a war would create a
large standing army that need never be disbanded, while in the minds of the
people would be substituted the issue, "America versus Germany," in
place of "Socialism versus Oligarchy."
And
truly the war would have done all these things had it not been for the
socialists. A secret meeting of the Western leaders was held in our four tiny
rooms in Pell Street.
Here was first considered the stand the socialists were to take. It was not the
first time we had put our foot down upon war,* but it was the first time we had
done so in the United States.
After our secret meeting we got in touch with the national organization, and
soon our code cables were passing back and forth across the Atlantic
between us and the International Bureau.
The
German socialists were ready to act with us. There were over five million of
them, many of them in the standing army, and, in addition, they were on
friendly terms with the labor unions. In both countries the socialists came out
in bold declaration against the war and threatened the general strike. And in
the meantime they made preparation for the general strike. Furthermore, the
revolutionary parties in all countries gave public utterance to the socialist
principle of international peace that must be preserved at all hazards, even to
the extent of revolt and revolution at home.
The
general strike was the one great victory we American socialists won. On the 4th
of December the American minister was withdrawn from the German capital. That
night a German fleet made a dash on Honolulu,
sinking three American cruisers and a revenue cutter, and bombarding the city.
Next day both Germany and
the United States
declared war, and within an hour the socialists called the general strike in
both countries.
For
the first time the German war-lord faced the men of his empire who made his
empire go. Without them he could not run his empire. The novelty of the
situation lay in that their revolt was passive. They did not fight. They did
nothing. And by doing nothing they tied their war-lord's hands. He would have
asked for nothing better than an opportunity to loose his war-dogs on his
rebellious proletariat. But this was denied him. He could not loose his
war-dogs. Neither could he mobilize his army to go forth to war, nor could he
punish his recalcitrant subjects. Not a wheel moved in his empire. Not a train
ran, not a telegraphic message went over the wires, for the telegraphers and
railroad men had ceased work along with the rest of the population.
And
as it was in Germany, so it
was in the United States.
At last organized labor had learned its lesson. Beaten decisively on its own
chosen field, it had abandoned that field and come over to the political field
of the socialists; for the general strike was a political strike. Besides,
organized labor had been so badly beaten that it did not care. It joined in the
general strike out of sheer desperation. The workers threw down their tools and
left their tasks by the millions. Especially notable were the machinists. Their
heads were bloody, their organization had apparently been destroyed, yet out
they came, along with their allies in the metal-working trades.
Even
the common laborers and all unorganized labor ceased work. The strike had tied
everything up so that nobody could work. Besides, the women proved to be the
strongest promoters of the strike. They set their faces against the war. They
did not want their men to go forth to die. Then, also, the idea of the general
strike caught the mood of the people. It struck their sense of humor. The idea
was infectious. The children struck in all the schools, and such teachers as
came, went home again from deserted class rooms. The general strike took the
form of a great national picnic. And the idea of the solidarity of labor, so evidenced,
appealed to the imagination of all. And, finally, there was no danger to be
incurred by the colossal frolic. When everybody was guilty, how was anybody to
be punished?
The
United States
was paralyzed. No one knew what was happening. There were no newspapers, no
letters, no despatches. Every community was as completely isolated as though
ten thousand miles of primeval wilderness stretched between it and the rest of
the world. For that matter, the world had ceased to exist. And for a week this
state of affairs was maintained.
In
San Francisco we did not know what was happening
even across the bay in Oakland or Berkeley. The effect on
one's sensibilities was weird, depressing. It seemed as though some great
cosmic thing lay dead. The pulse of the land had ceased to beat. Of a truth the
nation had died. There were no wagons rumbling on the streets, no factory
whistles, no hum of electricity in the air, no passing of street cars, no cries
of news-boys—nothing but persons who at rare intervals went by like furtive
ghosts, themselves oppressed and made unreal by the silence.
And
during that week of silence the Oligarchy was taught its lesson. And well it
learned the lesson. The general strike was a warning. It should never occur
again. The Oligarchy would see to that.
At
the end of the week, as had been prearranged, the telegraphers of Germany and the United States returned to their
posts. Through them the socialist leaders of both countries presented their
ultimatum to the rulers. The war should be called off, or the general strike
would continue. It did not take long to come to an understanding. The war was
declared off, and the populations of both countries returned to their tasks.
It
was this renewal of peace that brought about the alliance between Germany and the United States. In reality, this was
an alliance between the Emperor and the Oligarchy, for the purpose of meeting
their common foe, the revolutionary proletariat of both countries. And it was
this alliance that the Oligarchy afterward so treacherously broke when the
German socialists rose and drove the war-lord from his throne. It was the very
thing the Oligarchy had played for—the destruction of its great rival in the
world-market. With the German Emperor out of the way, Germany would
have no surplus to sell abroad. By the very nature of the socialist state, the
German population would consume all that it produced. Of course, it would trade
abroad certain things it produced for things it did not produce; but this would
be quite different from an unconsumable surplus.
"I'll
wager the Oligarchy finds justification," Ernest said, when its treachery
to the German Emperor became known. "As usual, the Oligarchy will believe
it has done right."
And
sure enough. The Oligarchy's public defence for the act was that it had done it
for the sake of the American people whose interests it was looking out for. It
had flung its hated rival out of the world-market and enabled us to dispose of
our surplus in that market.
"And
the howling folly of it is that we are so helpless that such idiots really are
managing our interests," was Ernest's comment. "They have enabled us
to sell more abroad, which means that we'll be compelled to consume less at
home."
As said, after a failed socialist coup, in the U.S. The Iron Heel prevailed (Chapter 14). Notably, the oligarchs
coopted the skilled working class in the regime, assuring it higher wages and a
good welfare state. The unskilled working class was reduced to semi-slave
labour and all the universal welfare state institutions, including public
education, were dismantled. To the discomfort of our neo-Keleckian friends,
growth was not wage-led (how it can? wage-consumption is an induced component
of aggregate demand, therefore it cannot drive growth), but it relied on the autonomous consumption of capitalists.
[1] These posts are divertissement :-); I do not pretend extreme rigour, but
just to be suggestive. Hundreds of thousand become communists after having read
The Iron Heel. Perhaps one or two
guys will become Sraffian-Kaleckians after reading this post.
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