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    Jeremy Bentham: From Laissez-Faire to Statism

    enFebruary 26, 2023

    About this Episode

    [An Austrian Perspective on the History of Economic Thought (1995)]

     

    Jeremy Bentham (1748–1832) began as a devoted Smithian but more consistently attached to laissez-faire. During his relatively brief span of interest in economics, he became more and more statist. His intensified statism was merely one aspect of his major — and highly unfortunate — contribution to economics: his consistent philosophical utilitarianism. This contribution, which opens a broad sluice-gate for state despotism, still remains as Bentham's legacy to contemporary neoclassical economics.

    Bentham was born in London the son of a wealthy lawyer, whiled away his youth at Oxford, and was admitted to the bar in 1772. But it soon became clear that Bentham was not interested in a career as an attorney. Rather, he settled down for life with his inherited wealth to become a cloistered philosopher, legal theorist, and "projector" or crank, eternally grinding out schemes for legal and political reform which he urged upon the great and powerful.

    Bentham's first and enduring interest was in utilitarianism (which we shall examine further below), and which he launched with his first published work at the age of 28, the Fragment on Government (1776).

    Most of his life, Bentham functioned as the Great Man, scribbling chaotically on endless and prolix manuscripts elaborating on his projected reforms and law codes. Most of the manuscripts remained unpublished until long after his death. The affluent Bentham lived in a capacious house surrounded by flunkies and disciples, who copied revision after revision of his illegible prose to get ready for eventual publication. He conversed with his disciples in the same made-up jargon with which he peppered his writings. While a cheery conversationalist, Bentham brooked no argument from his aides and disciples; as his precocious young disciple John Stuart Mill later recalled with kindly understatement Bentham "failed in deriving light from other minds." Because of this trait, Bentham was surrounded not by alert and knowledgeable disciples but by largely uncomprehending aides who, in the perceptive words of Professor William Thomas, "looked on his work with a certain resigned skepticism as if its faults were the result of eccentricities beyond the reach of criticism or remonstrance." As Thomas continues,

    The idea that he was surrounded by a band of eager disciples who drew from his system a searching critique of every aspect of contemporary society, which they were later to apply to various institutions in need of reform, is the product of later liberal myth-making. So far as I know, Bentham's circle is quite unlike that of any other great political thinker. It consisted not so much of men who found in his work a compelling explanation of the social world around them and gathered about him to learn more of his thoughts, as of men caught in a sort of expectant bafflement at the progress of a work which they would have liked to help on to completion but which remained maddeningly elusive and obscure.William E.C. Thomas, The Philosophic Radicals: Nine Studies in Theory and Practice 1817–1841 (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1979), p. 25.

    What Bentham needed desperately were sympathetic and candid editors of his work, but his relationship with his followers precluded that from happening. "For this reason," adds Thomas, "the steadily accumulating mass of manuscripts remained largely a terra incognita, even to the intimate members of our circle." As a result, for example, such a major work in manuscript, Of Laws in General, astonishingly remained unedited, let alone unpublished, until our own day.

    If anyone could have played this role, it was Bentham's outstanding follower, James Mill. In many ways, Mill had the capacity and personality to perform the task, but there were two fatal problems: first, Mill refused to abandon his own intellectual work in order to subordinate himself exclusively to aiding the Master. As Thomas writes, "Sooner or later all Bentham's disciples faced the choice of absorption or independence." Though he was a devoted follower of Benthamite utilitarianism, Mill's personality was such that absorption for him was out of the question.

    Second, the slipshod and volatile Bentham desperately needed shaping up, and the brisk, systematic, didactic, and hectoring James Mill was just the man to do the shaping. But, unsurprisingly, Bentham, the Great Man, was not about to be shaped up by anyone. The personality clash was too great for their relationship to be anything but arm's length, even at the height of Mill's discipleship, before Mill achieved economic independence from his wealthy patron. Thus, in exasperation, Mill wrote to a close mutual friend about Bentham: "The pain he seems to feel at the very thought of being called upon to give his mind to the subject, you can have but little conception of." At the same time Bentham, even long afterwards, confided his lingering resentment of Mill to his last disciple, John Bowring:

    He will never willingly enter into discourse with me. When he differs he is silent.… He expects to subdue everybody by his domineering tone — to convince everybody by his positiveness. His manner of speaking is oppressive and overbearing.

    There is no better way to summarize the personality clash between them.See, ibid., pp. 35–6.

    Bentham's first published work, the Fragment on Government (1776), gained young Bentham an entrée into leading political circles, particularly the friends of Lord Shelburne. These included Whig politicians like Lord Camden and William Pitt the younger, and two men who were quickly to become Bentham's close friends and earliest disciples, the Genevan Etienne Dumont and Sir Samuel Romilly. Dumont was to be the main carrier of Benthamite doctrine to the continent of Europe.

    While utilitarian political and legal reform continued to be his main interest throughout his life, Bentham read and absorbed The Wealth of Nations in the late 1770s or early 1780s, quickly becoming a devoted disciple. Although Bentham praised practically no other author, he habitually referred to Adam Smith as "the father of political economy," a "great master," and a "writer of consummate genius." In the early 1780s, Bentham's brother Samuel, a wealthy engineer, was engaged by the Empress Catherine the Great to organize various industrial projects. Samuel invited Jeremy to stay with him in Russia, which he did from the mid-1780s to the end of 1787, with a view to presenting an "all-comprehensive [legal] code" to enable that despot to govern her realm more efficiently.

    Bentham characteristically never completed the code for Catherine, but, while in Russia he learned — falsely, as it turned out — that William Pitt, now prime minister, was preparing to urge a reduction in the legal maximum rate of interest from 5 to 4 percent. Agitated, Bentham wrote and soon published, in 1787, his first, and only well-known work on economics: the scintillating and hard-hitting Defence of Usury. Trying to bring more consistency into Smithian laissez-faire, Bentham argued against all usury laws whatever. He grounded his view squarely on the concept of freedom of contract, declaring that "no man of ripe years and of sound mind, acting freely, and with his eyes open, ought to be hindered … from making such a bargain, in the way of obtaining money, as he thinks fit." The presumption, in any situation, is for freedom of contract: "You, who fetter contracts; you, who lay restraints on the liberty of man, it is for you … to assign a reason for your doing so." Furthermore, how can "usury" be a crime when it is exchange by mutual consent of lender and borrower? "Usury," Bentham concludes,

    if it must be an offence, is an offence committed with consent, that is, with the consent of the party supposed to be injured, cannot merit a place in the catalogue of offences, unless the consent were either unfairly obtained or unfreely: in the first case, it coincides with defraudment; in the other, with extortion.

    In his appendix to the Defence of Usury, Bentham restates and sharpens the Turgot-Smith defense of savings. Savings results in capital accumulation: "Whoever saves money, as the phrase is, adds proportionately to the general mass of capital.… The world can augment its capital in only one way: viz by parsimony." This insight leads to the principle that "capital limits trade," that the extent of trade or production is limited by the amount of capital that has been accumulated. In short: "the trade of every nation is limited by the quantity of capital."

    The laissez-faire implication, as Bentham saw, is that government action or spending cannot increase the total amount of capital in society; it can only divert capital from free market to less productive uses. As a result, "no regulations nor any efforts whatsoever, either on the part of subjects or governors, can raise the quantity of wealth produced during a given period to an amount beyond what the productive powers of the quantity of capital in hand … are capable of producing."

    Defence of Usury had a great impact in Britain and elsewhere. Dr Thomas Reid, the distinguished Scottish "common-sense" philosopher who succeeded Adam Smith to the chair of moral philosophy at Glasgow, strongly endorsed the book. The great Comte de Mirabeau, the leading force in the early stages of the French Revolution, had the work translated into French. And in the United States, the tract went into several editions, and it inspired several states to repeal their laws against usury.

    In the course of the Defence, there are hints of valuable analysis. Lending is defined as "exchanging present money for future," and other intimations of time-preference or waiting as a key to saving include such phrases as the saver having "the resolution to sacrifice the present to [the] future." Bentham also intimates that part of interest charged includes a risk premium, a kind of insurance premium for the risk of loss incurred by the lender.

    During the 1780s, Bentham was also writing his "Essay on Reward," published only a half-century later as the Rationale of Reward. In it, Bentham expounded enthusiastically on "Competition as rewards," and hailed the "advantages resulting from the most unlimited freedom of competition." It was on this principle of free competition and opposition to governmental monopolies that "the father of political economy" had, in Bentham's over-enthusiastic words, "created a new science."

    In his next economic work, the unpublished "Manual of Political Economy" (1795), Bentham continued the laissez-faire theme of "No more trade than capital." The government, he emphasized, can only divert investment funds from the private sector; it cannot raise the total level of investment. "Whatever is given to any one branch, is so much taken from the rest.… Every statesman who thinks by regulation to increase the sum of trade, is the child whose eye is bigger than his belly." Towards the end of the same work, however, a cloud no bigger than a man's hand appeared that would eventually take charge of Bentham's economic analysis. For Bentham began his rapid slide down the inflationist chute. In a kind of appendix to the work, he states that government paper money could increase capital if resources were not "fully employed." There is no analysis, as of course there never is in the inflationist canon, of why these resources were "unemployed" in the first place, i.e., why their owners withheld them from use. The answer must be: because the resource owner demanded an excessively high price or wage: inflation is therefore a means of fooling resource-owners into lowering their real demands.

    It did not take long for Jeremy Bentham to slide down the slippery slope from Adam Smith and what would be Say's law back to mercantilism and inflationism. Shortly afterwards, in an unpublished "Proposal for the Circulation of a [New] Species of Paper Currency" (1796), Bentham happily wedded his "projecting" and constructivist spirit to his newfound inflationism. Instead of floating bonds and paying interest on them, the government, he proposed, should simply monopolize all issue of paper notes in the kingdom. It could then issue the notes, preferably non-interest bearing, ad libitum and save itself the interest.

    Bentham was scarcely at his best answering the question of what limit there might be to this government paper issue. The limit, he answered, would obviously be "the amount of paper currency in the country." Bentham's modern editor is properly scornful of this patent claptrap: "It is like saying "the sky's the limit" when we do not know how high the sky may be."Werner Stark, "Introduction," in Stark (ed.), Jeremy Bentham's Economic Writings (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1951), II, 18–19.

    In his later writings on the subject, Bentham searched for some limits to paper issue, if unsuccessfully. But his commitment to a broadly inflationist course deepened further. In his unfinished "Circulating Annuities" (1800), he developed his government paper scheme further, and hailed the serviceability of inflation in wartime. Indeed, Bentham makes an all-out assault on the Turgot-Smith-Say insights and actually declares that employment of labor is directly proportional to the quantity of money: "No addition is ever made to the quantity of labor in any place, but by an addition made to the quantity of money in that place.… In this point of view, then, money, it should seem, is the cause, and the cause sine qua non, of labor and general wealth." Quantity of money is all; so much for Smithian doctrine! In fact, Bentham went further in Circulating Annuities, heaping scorn on his alleged mentor for denouncing the mercantilist preoccupation with the state's piling up of gold and silver and with a "favorable" balance of trade. There is no absurdity, averred Bentham,

    in the exultation testified by public men at observing how [great] a degree of what is called the balance of trade is in favour of this country.… Seduced by the pride of discovery, Adam Smith, by taking his words from the kitchen, has attempted to throw an ill-grounded ridicule on the preference given to gold and silver.

    After once again calling for the elimination of bank paper for the benefit of a government monopoly of paper issue (in the fragmentary "Paper Mischief Exposed," 1801), Bentham reached the acme of inflationism in his "The True Alarm (1801). In this unpublished work, Bentham not only continued the full-employment motif, but also grumbled about the allegedly dire effects of hoarding, of money saved from consumption that went into hoards instead of investment. In that case, disaster: a fall in prices, profits and production. Nowhere does Bentham recognize that hoarding and a general fall in prices also means a fall in costs, and no necessary reduction in investment or production. Indeed, Bentham worked around to the Mandeville fallacy about the beneficial and uniquely energizing effects of luxurious spending. In the mercantilist and proto-Keynesian manner, saving is evil hoarding while luxury consumption animates production. How capital can be maintained, much less increased, without saving is not explained in this bizarre model.

    James Mill and David Ricardo have been considered loyal Benthamites, and this they were in utilitarian philosophy and in a belief in political democracy. In economics, however, it was a far different story, and Mill and Ricardo, sound as a rock on Say's law and the Turgot-Smith analysis, were firm in successfully discouraging the publication of the "The True Alarm." Ricardo scoffed at almost all of later Benthamite economics and, in the case of money and production, asked the proper questions: "Why should the mere increase of money have any other effect than to lower its value? How would it cause any increase in the production of commodities.… Money cannot call forth goods … but goods can call forth money." Bentham's major theme — "that money is the cause of riches" — Ricardo rejected firmly and flatly.

    In his penultimate work of importance on economics, Jeremy Bentham came full circle. He had launched the economic part of his career with a hard-hitting attack on usury laws; he ended it by defending maximum price control on bread. Why? Because the mass of the public would favor cheap bread (assuredly so!), and so there would then be a "rational" and "determinate standard" for the good and moral price of bread, a standard which apparently free contract and free markets cannot set. What would such a standard be? Showing that for Bentham his ad hoc utilitarianism and cost-benefit analysis had totally driven any sound economics out of his purview, he answered that it would have to be empirical and ad hoc. Casting economic logic to the winds, Bentham maintained that the authorities should set a "moderate" maximum price, which would weigh the costs and benefits, the advantages and disadvantages, of each possible price. And Bentham assured his readers of his moderation: he did "not mean it [his proposal] as a whip or scorpion for the punishment of the growers or vendors of corn." But that would be the inevitable result.

    Ad hoc empiricism was now rampant in Bentham. Admitting that all previous attempts at maximum price control were disasters, like any later institutionalist or historicist Bentham denied any relevance, since the circumstances of each particular time and place are necessarily different. In short, Bentham denied economics altogether — that is, denied the possibility of laws abstracting from particular circumstances and applying to all exchanges or actions everywhere.

    In arguing against the opponents of price control, Bentham often used reasoning that was tortuous and even absurd. For example, to the charge that maximum price control would lead to attempted consumption exceeding supply (one of the greatest problems with price control), Bentham insisted that this could not happen in Britain, where the Poor Law ensured welfare payment to the poor with an increase in the price of bread. The opinion that, at some time or other, the demand curve can be vertical and not falling is in every century the hallmark of an economic ignoramus, and Bentham now passed that test. For centuries, writers and theorists knew that demand increased as price fell, and Bentham was now writing as if economics had never existed — and could never exist.

    Since consistency was the realm of despised deductive logic, Bentham denied that his opposition to usury laws had any relation to his defense of price control on bread. But while he still maintained that his earlier analysis had been correct, he now offered a crucial revision: he had overlooked that a notable advantage of a usury law is that the government can then borrow more cheaply (at the expense, of course, of squeezing out marginal private borrowers). And he went on to admit that he now found this "advantage" decisive, so that now he would place usury laws on the governmental agenda: "I should expect to find the advantages of it in this respect predominate over its disadvantages in all others." In short, Bentham, the alleged "individualist" and exponent of laissez-faire, finds that advantage to government outweighs all private disadvantage!

    Again treating his earlier views on usury, Bentham denied that he had ever believed in any self-adjusting and equilibrating tendencies of the market, or that interest rates properly adjust saving and investment. He went on in a revealing diatribe against laissez-faire and natural rights, to demonstrate to one and all the incompatibility between utilitarianism on the one hand and laissez-faire or property rights on the other:

    I have not, I never had, nor shall have, any horror, sentimental or anarchical, of the hand of government. I leave it to Adam Smith, and the champions of the rights of man … to talk of invasions of natural liberty, and to give as a special argument against this or that law, an argument the effect of which would be to put a negative upon all laws. The interference of government, as often as in my jumbled view of the matter the smallest balance on the side of advantage is the result, is an event I witness with altogether as much satisfaction as I should its forbearance, and with much more than I should its negligence.

    One wonders by what mystical standard the "scientific" Bentham managed to weigh the advantages and disadvantages of every particular law.

    Three years later, in 1804, Jeremy Bentham lost interest in economics, a fact for which we must be forever grateful. It is only unfortunate that this waning of zeal had not occurred a half-decade before. The case of Jeremy Bentham, however, should be instructive to that host of economists that attempt to weld utilitarian philosophy with free market economics.

    One would think that the master of utilitarianism would have contributed to utility analysis in economics, but oddly enough Bentham proved to be interested only in the "macro" realms of economic thought. The only exception came in the largely unfortunate True Alarm (1801), in which Bentham not only declared that "all value is founded on utility," but also enters into a cogent critique of Adam Smith's alleged "value paradox." Water, Bentham noted, can and does have economic value, while diamonds do have value in use as a foundation of its economic value. Continuing on, Bentham approaches the marginalist refutation of the value paradox:

    The reason why water is found not to have any value with a view to exchange is that it is equally devoid of value with a view to use. If the whole quantity required is available, the surplus has no kind of value. It would be the same in the case of wine, grain, and everything else. Water, furnished as it is by nature without any human exertion, is more likely to be found in that abundance which renders it superfluous; but there are many circumstances in which it has a value in exchange superior to that of wine.

    This article is excerpted from An Austrian Perspective on the History of Economic Thought (1995), volume II, chapter 2.1.

    Recent Episodes from Interventionism

    The Importance of Hülsmann's Groundbreaking book <em>Abundance, Generosity, and the State</em>

    The Importance of Hülsmann's Groundbreaking book <em>Abundance, Generosity, and the State</em>

    Guido Hülsmann’s Abundance, Generosity, and the State provides readers with an explanation of the nature and causes of gratuitous goods. Hülsmann demonstrates how free markets are infused with both intentional and unintentional gratuity, and how the repressive and permissive interventions of the modern state lead to their destruction.

    This work is desperately needed and represents a remarkable achievement by one of the Austrian School’s leading lights of our time. It is the first successful and systematic treatment of this underappreciated category of human action. Therefore, it is no exaggeration to say that it belongs alongside the great advancements in economic science, and I can say, without hesitation, that it will stand alongside works such as Ludwig von Mises’s Socialism and Murray N. Rothbard’s Power and Market. The knowledge and understanding it provideseconomists and noneconomists alike is indeed a gift.

    Hülsmann breaks new ground in the political economy of gratuitous goods, which fits squarely within the field of praxeology—the theory of all human action. This subcategory of praxeology has been largely ignored, even by those in the Austrian tradition. Meanwhile, the true nature, causes, and consequences of gifts and gratuity have been badly misconstrued by social scientists outside the field of economics. Furthermore, the best and latest attempts to address the topic have all failed to properly evaluate the impact of interventionism upon the economy of gifts. Hülsmann holds up the work of Kenneth Boulding, Catherine Gbedolo, and John Mueller as providing recent and helpful contributions. But despite the best efforts of these scholars, Hülsmann acknowledges that “generosity, gifts, and unearned abundance still stand at the margins of economics.” Thankfully, Abundance, Generosity, and the State sheds new and penetrating light on the subject, and convincingly delivers a Misesian-Rothbardian vision of the nature of generosity and the predations of the state upon it in a robust work of political economy.

    As a master teacher is prone to do, Hülsmann supplies the reader with clear and concise definitions of his terms. Most importantly, he illuminates the essential nature of genuine gifts and donations, which are defined by four key conditions; namely, “the donor intends to benefit some cause or person other than himself, he does not seek any compensation, he freely consents to the transfer, and his donation consists of personal savings.” Violations of each of these conditions produce a different kind of nongift. Donors make grants rather than gifts if they seek their own private benefit, and their transfers have hidden prices if they expect reciprocity. Donors are “fleeced” if they do not actually consent to the donation, and they are merely dispensing “loot” if they do not legitimately own what they are transferring.

    These definitions are systematically carried throughout the book, providing the reader with great clarity. With these distinctions being made, the readers of this periodical may already “smell a rat”—interventionism—that is responsible for driving a great number of individuals to shift their actions from genuine generosity toward these dubious “pseudo-gifts.” This is the explicit purpose of a work in political economy—to provide a demonstration of what human action looks like under conditions of private property protection versus the conditions of life when that principle is violated by the state. The latter situation is rightly described by Hülsmann as a grim picture of a world bereft of genuine gifts and proliferating in genuine miserliness and societal atomization.

    What follows is a summary of Hülsmann’s key findings along with various attempts to illuminate their importance in furthering economic science as well as some of their implications.

    The author identifies his motive early on as an attempt to respond to Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical Caritas in veritate (2009), which exhorted people of good will to “demonstrate, in thinking and behaviour, . . . that in commercial relationships the principle of gratuitousness and the logic of gift as an expression of fraternity can and must find their place within normal economic activity.” What Hülsmann demonstrates is that in a truly free economy, every market exchange is unintentionally infused with gratuitous goods.

    Moreover, the relationship between growing economies and generosity isn’t just a run-of-the-mill positive correlation between wealth and charity. Rather, he explains, “gratuitous goods and markets are not merely complementary but symbiotic. They feed into each other. In order to understand markets, it is necessary to grasp why and how certain economic goods are transferred without payment.”

    To further this finding, Hülsmann extends F.A. Hayek’s observations regarding the nature of market competition. Hülsmann reminds us that competition is best understood as “a process of piecemeal improvements . . . that improves the terms on which customers are served.” What emerges from this process is an unintentional, or spontaneous, gratuity. Indeed, the process of competition in an unhampered market is the mechanism through which society is freely provided with higher-quality goods at lower prices. The author further observes that “competitive behavior in Hayek’s sense entails additional benefits for other market participants. These benefits are gratuitous because in the cases Hayek envisioned, there is no obligation for individuals or firms to improve anything whatsoever and their customers do not have any right to claim such benefits. Moreover, these benefits are provided spontaneously.”

    These initial observations offer the modern reader intellectual ammunition against the age-old equivalence postulate. This Aristotelian idea still occupies the minds of many who view economic exchange as a zero-sum game. Furthermore, the reader is reminded of the fact that “as soon as they engage in an exchange, they cannot prevent the double gratuitousness that it inexorably generates.” Put another way, voluntary exchange only happens because of the improved state of affairs it yields for both participants. The implication is that in the unhampered market, there is a mutually reinforcing relationship where gratuitousness leads to more exchange and more exchange leads to greater gratuity.

    Another important takeaway from Hülsmann’s treatise is his systematic and clear distinction between genuine gifts and “pseudo-gifts.” He rightly notes that even in a free society there will be those whose hearts are duplicitous and who will extend what appear to be genuine gifts or donations while they are—as the biblical proverbs state—inwardly calculating. Such individuals are secretly counting on reciprocity while appearing to give genuine gifts that require not even the slightest form of repayment. Hülsmann refrains from making harsh judgment on the practice of reciprocity—even recognizing its importance in various cases. Indeed, he aptly observes that “reciprocation does not contradict the sacrificial nature of donations. Quite to the contrary, the particular sort of reciprocity that is found in friendship and in the loving relationships between family members can only be understood before the background of genuine sacrifice.”

    Elsewhere, Hülsmann illustrates the dangers of creating overgeneralizations about the motive of reciprocity by drawing our attention to the excesses of the works of French anthropologist Marcel Mauss and his followers, who largely contended that genuine gifts are, in fact, impossible. Mauss’s works from the early 1920s on primitive societies presented the view that “strictly speaking, there is no such thing as a pure gift at all. . . . In the real world, [Mauss] argued, all social relations are based on reciprocity, but the respective obligations cannot be final and conclusive.” It comes as no great shock, then, that Mauss and his disciples were seeking to “develop a theory of human action in deliberate opposition to economics,” motivated by their unwillingness to accept the “political (pro–free market) implications of economics.” Furthermore, the Maussians “blithely disregarded the benefits springing from property law and contracts.” In his retort, Hülsmann makes the salient observation that “it is only when each person’s obligations are clearly defined, as they tend to be in an economy based on the principle of private property, that it becomes possible to do something beyond and in excess of one’s obligations. Only then do genuine gifts become conceivable. Only then does true gratuitousness become a reality.”

    Of course, while humans always have been and will ever remain less than divine in their motives in all things, this problem of the aforementioned “pseudo-gifts” will also always exist. This is not in question. However, the task of the political economist is to demonstrate the contrast between the economics of donations under private property and under interventionism.

    Hülsmann does just that by building on some of his earlier works to explain the impacts of repressive and permissive interventionism on generosity. The former include taxation, prohibition, and regulation, which all “curb the citizens’ exercise of their ordinary property rights” and have the effect of ruining individual initiative. The latter create special classes of people who are protected and indeed encouraged to engage in “irresponsibility and outright frivolous behavior.”

    As is Hülsmann’s wonderful habit, he points to monetary interventionism as a devastating form of permissive interventionism. By manipulating money and credit, the state creates the conditions for an inflation culture. In it, rationality traps and intervention spirals are to be expected, although they may emerge slowly. Hülsmann rightly observes that as this culture begins to take hold, “the willingness to make donations of time and material goods is compromised. Less time is spent on disinterested activities, whether reading, music, sports, education of one’s children, worship, or spending time with others.”

    Monetary interventionism’s antisocial effects cannot be ignored, especially when people are increasingly stingy in sharing time with their children, faith community, or civic organizations— all things enjoyed for their own sake. These aren’t the only things that Hülsmann reminds us that we’ve lost under this statist invention. Indeed, trust, social cohesion, and friendship itself, the normal gifts of life, have eroded.

    In stark contrast to the pernicious effects of monetary interventionism upon the gift economy is the reality of the unhampered market for money. Professor Hülsmann reminds his readers that in the unhampered market money hoarding has gratuitous effects. Indeed, when this occurs, the price level falls and bystanders who expected to pay more for goods find themselves in an environment of falling prices. It is easy to see that this state of affairs benefits those who do not hoard their money, and the benefits do not stop there! With this newly increased purchasing power, people are more likely to give genuine gifts. We have more beautiful displays of shared wealth because of the gratuitous effects of money hoarding. Hülsmann also reminds us that in a free market, free of monetary interventionism, there will tend to be a higher tendency to save and invest, leading to lower returns on capital investment, and the wealthiest members of society will be more likely to make genuine sacrifices. This form of sacrifice is “a chosen abundance of economic goods that could very well be used for self-gratification. The donor deliberately limits the personal use of his resources.” For all the talk of how capitalism and free markets lead to consumerism, frivolity, waste, avarice, and insatiable greed, Hülsmann provides us with a clear-headed and coherent argument for why just the opposite is true. Indeed, it’s the unhampered market—bolstered by virtuous people who shun the promise of power that comes with interventionism—that enables people to live free and to live generously.

    Unfortunately, the permissive forms of interventionism aren’t the only ones lurking in the shadows of statism. The repressive forms of interventionism are no less destructive to generosity and the economy of gifts. Hülsmann powerfully illustrates how the repression of taxation—just one form of repressive intervention—creates conflicts of interest between “tax payers and tax receivers; the government and the citizens; employers and employees; men and women; blacks and whites; old retirees and young professionals.” This observation highlights the importance of recognizing that it is the tax authority itself that must be abolished in order to end what has truly become a war of all against all. This war is not the result of the natural free state of men, but rather is an imposition that destroys friendship, fellowship, and kinship. When the full effects of taxation have taken hold, the author observes, atomized and disintegrated individuals must “organize themselves in order to obtain power sufficient to loot others or to fend off other looters . . . the characteristic friendship of repressive interventionism is the robber gang.” The inexorable descent of many Western cities into politically generated tribal chaos provides a disquieting glimpse of repressive intervention in action.

    The author makes yet another contribution to the economics of generosity by referring to the works of Hans-Hermann Hoppe and Gordon Tullock. At various points, Hülsmann also reminds us that interventionism—especially under democratic systems—contributes to the creation of an entire political class that is sustained by the “hidden prices” that are imposed on the public. Some of the clearest examples of this reality can be clearly seen in the welfare-warfare state apparatus that provides the pseudo-gift of subsidies in exchange for political loyalty. Of course, the modern state continues to use its propaganda machine to “fleece” the public by encouraging them to give up their private wealth as a way to pay their “fair share” or exhibit true patriotism. All the while, the political class enriches itself and distributes the “loot” among the favored few. Indeed, these activities are clearly harmful to the public and as such are properly regarded as a gratuitous evil. Hülsmann in his notably moderate tone of writing never claims that excessive, unreasonable harm is impossible in the free market. However, he reminds the reader that “gratuitous evil is as a rule intentional and can be a regular and permanent side effect of human action only in exceptional circumstances (under a corrupted legal and political order).” Gratuitous evil comes about more frequently under permissive intervention, and Hülsmann reminds us that this is “not an accident, but the natural tendency of modern democratic systems. By the very logic of modern electoral politics, the welfare state is not likely to help the poor. It is likely to impoverish them further.”

    The findings of Abundance, Generosity, and the State have completely unseated the notion of positive externalities as a market failure and completely dispensed with externality theory as a whole. What have been regarded by mainstream economists as “spillovers,” “positive externalities,” and “network effects,” as so-called market failures, are no failures at all. Indeed, the author clearly demonstrates—as noted earlier—that gratuitous goods have a symbiotic relationship with all market exchanges. Furthermore, gratuitous bads are minimized and gratuitous evils dismissed when permissive and repressive interventions are abolished. It should be abundantly clear to keen observers of the interventionist state that externality theory is one of the most important plausible fallacies that the state uses to entrance the public into acquiescing to its power. By toppling this falsehood and upholding the goodness that emerges from genuinely free exchange, Hülsmann has perhaps made a more generous and benevolent future more possible.

    I would be remiss if I failed to mention that the excellence of this treatise is exceeded by the excellence of the man himself. Guido Hülsmann has embodied intentional generosity to his students, and to all those who serve, study, and speak with the goal that liberty, beauty, virtue, and truth may prevail in our time. It is true that the science of economics has been advanced through this work. Indeed, some of the most noxious and long-lasting economic doctrines that uphold the interventionist state—the equivalence postulate, the zero-sum game fallacy, and externality theory—have been cut down to size by Hülsmann’s mighty pen. Furthermore, the importance of this treatise is readily recognizable: it lies primarily in its clear demonstration that the interventionist state is at the root of Western society’s increasingly loathsome, self-destructive, and stingy culture. The author has given a gift of new economic knowledge, and those fortunate enough to know him have the even greater gift of knowing and experiencing his gratuitous kindness and friendship. Bravo, Professor!

    The Myth of the Failure of Capitalism

    The Myth of the Failure of Capitalism

    [This essay was originally published as "Die Legende von Versagen des Kapitalismus" in Der Internationale Kapitalismus und die Krise, Festschrift für Julius Wolf (1932)This essay was translated from the German by Jane E. Sanders, who wishes to gratefully acknowledge the comments and suggestions of Professor John T. Sanders, Rochester Institute of Technology, and Professor David R. Henderson, University of Rochester, in the preparation of the translation.

     

    The nearly universal opinion expressed these days is that the economic crisis of recent years marks the end of capitalism. Capitalism allegedly has failed, has proven itself incapable of solving economic problems, and so mankind has no alternative, if it is to survive, then to make the transition to a planned economy, to socialism.

    This is hardly a new idea. The socialists have always maintained that economic crises are the inevitable result of the capitalistic method of production and that there is no other means of eliminating economic crises than the transition to socialism. If these assertions are expressed more forcefully these days and evoke greater public response, it is not because the present crisis is greater or longer than its predecessors, but rather primarily because today public opinion is much more strongly influenced by socialist views than it was in previous decades.

    1.

    When there was no economic theory, the belief was that whoever had power and was determined to use it could accomplish anything. In the interest of their spiritual welfare and with a view toward their reward in heaven, rulers were admonished by their priests to exercise moderation in their use of power. Also, it was not a question of what limits the inherent conditions of human life and production set for this power, but rather that they were considered boundless and omnipotent in the sphere of social affairs.

    The foundation of social sciences, the work of a large number of great intellects, of whom David Hume and Adam Smith are most outstanding, has destroyed this conception. One discovered that social power was a spiritual one and not (as was supposed) a material and, in the rough sense of the word, a real one. And there was the recognition of a necessary coherence within market phenomena which power is unable to destroy. There was also a realization that something was operative in social affairs that the powerful could not influence and to which they had to accommodate themselves, just as they had to adjust to the laws of nature. In the history of human thought and science there is no greater discovery.

    If one proceeds from this recognition of the laws of the market, economic theory shows just what kind of situation arises from the interference of force and power in market processes. The isolated intervention cannot reach the end the authorities strive for in enacting it and must result in consequences which are undesirable from the standpoint of the authorities. Even from the point of view of the authorities themselves the intervention is pointless and harmful. Proceeding from this perception, if one wants to arrange market activity according to the conclusions of scientific thought — and we give thought to these matters not only because we are seeking knowledge for its own sake, but also because we want to arrange our actions such that we can reach the goals we aspire to — one then comes unavoidably to a rejection of such interventions as superfluous, unnecessary, and harmful, a notion which characterizes the liberal teaching. It is not that liberalism wants to carry standards of value over into science; it wants to take from science a compass for market actions. Liberalism uses the results of scientific research in order to construct society in such a way that it will be able to realize as effectively as possible the purposes it is intended to realize. The politico-economic parties do not differ on the end result for which they strive but on the means they should employ to achieve their common goal. The liberals are of the opinion that private property in the means of production is the only way to create wealth for everyone, because they consider socialism impractical and because they believe that the system of interventionism (which according to the view of its advocates is between capitalism and socialism) cannot achieve its proponents' goals.

    The liberal view has found bitter opposition. But the opponents of liberalism have not been successful in undermining its basic theory nor the practical application of this theory. They have not sought to defend themselves against the crushing criticism which the liberals have leveled against their plans by logical refutation; instead they have used evasions. The socialists considered themselves removed from this criticism, because Marxism has declared inquiry about the establishment and the efficacy of a socialist commonwealth heretical; they continued to cherish the socialist state of the future as heaven on earth, but refused to engage in a discussion of the details of their plan. The interventionists chose another path. They argued, on insufficient grounds, against the universal validity of economic theory. Not in a position to dispute economic theory logically, they could refer to nothing other than some "moral pathos," of which they spoke in the invitation to the founding meeting of the Vereins für Sozialpolitik [Association for Social Policy] in Eisenach. Against logic they set moralism, against theory emotional prejudice, against argument the reference to the will of the state.

    Economic theory predicted the effects of interventionism and state and municipal socialism exactly as they happened. All the warnings were ignored. For 50 or 60 years the politics of European countries has been anticapitalist and antiliberal. More than 40 years ago Sidney Webb (Lord Passfield) wrote,

    it can now fairly be claimed that the socialist philosophy of to-day is but the conscious and explicit assertion of principles of social organization which have been already in great part unconsciously adopted. The economic history of the century is an almost continuous record of the progress of Socialism.Cf. Webb, Fabian Essays in Socialism.… Ed. by G. Bernard Shaw. (American ed., edited by H.G. Wilshire. New York: The Humboldt Publishing Co., 1891) p. 4.

    That was at the beginning of this development and it was in England where liberalism was able for the longest time to hold off the anticapitalistic economic policies. Since then interventionist policies have made great strides. In general the view today is that we live in an age in which the "hampered economy" reigns — as the forerunner of the blessed socialist collective consciousness to come.

    Now, because indeed that which economic theory predicted has happened, because the fruits of the anticapitalistic economic policies have come to light, a cry is heard from all sides: this is the decline of capitalism, the capitalistic system has failed!

    Liberalism cannot be deemed responsible for any of the institutions which give today's economic policies their character. It was against the nationalization and the bringing under municipal control of projects which now show themselves to be catastrophes for the public sector and a source of filthy corruption; it was against the denial of protection for those willing to work and against placing state power at the disposal of the trade unions, against unemployment compensation, which has made unemployment a permanent and universal phenomenon, against social insurance, which has made those insured into grumblers, malingers, and neurasthenics, against tariffs (and thereby implicitly against cartels), against the limitation of freedom to live, to travel, or study where one likes, against excessive taxation and against inflation, against armaments, against colonial acquisitions, against the oppression of minorities, against imperialism and against war. It put up stubborn resistance against the politics of capital consumption. And liberalism did not create the armed party troops who are just waiting for the convenient opportunity to start a civil war.

    2.

    The line of argument that leads to blaming capitalism for at least some of these things is based on the notion that entrepreneurs and capitalists are no longer liberal but interventionist and statist. The fact is correct, but the conclusions people want to draw from it are wrong-headed. These deductions stem from the entirely untenable Marxist view that entrepreneurs and capitalists protected their special class interests through liberalism during the time when capitalism flourished but now, in the late and declining period of capitalism, protect them through interventionism. This is supposed to be proof that the "hampered economy" of interventionism is the historically necessary economics of the phase of capitalism in which we find ourselves today. But the concept of classical political economy and of liberalism as the ideology (in the Marxist sense of the word) of the bourgeoisie is one of the many distorted techniques of Marxism. If entrepreneurs and capitalists were liberal thinkers around 1800 in England and interventionist, statist, and socialist thinkers around 1930 in Germany, the reason is that entrepreneurs and capitalists were also captivated by the prevailing ideas of the times. In 1800 no less than in 1930 entrepreneurs had special interests which were protected by interventionism and hurt by liberalism.

    Today the great entrepreneurs are often cited as "economic leaders." Capitalistic society knows no "economic leaders." Therein lies the characteristic difference between socialist economies on the one hand and capitalist economies on the other hand: in the latter, the entrepreneurs and the owners of the means of production follow no leadership save that of the market. The custom of citing initiators of great enterprises as economic leaders already gives some indication that these days it is not usually the case that one reaches these positions by economic successes but rather by other means.

    In the interventionist state it is no longer of crucial importance for the success of an enterprise that operations be run in such a way that the needs of the consumer are satisfied in the best and least expensive way; it is much more important that one has "good relations" with the controlling political factions, that the interventions redound to the advantage and not the disadvantage of the enterprise. A few more marks' worth of tariff protection for the output of the enterprise, a few marks less tariff protection for the inputs in the manufacturing process can help the enterprise more than the greatest prudence in the conduct of operations. An enterprise may be well run, but it will go under if it does not know how to protect its interests in the arrangement of tariff rates, in the wage negotiations before arbitration boards, and in governing bodies of cartels. It is much more important to have "connections" than to produce well and cheaply. Consequently the men who reach the top of such enterprises are not those who know how to organize operations and give production a direction which the market situation demands, but rather men who are in good standing both "above" and "below," men who know how to get along with the press and with all political parties, especially with the radicals, such that their dealings cause no offense. This is that class of general directors who deal more with federal dignitaries and party leaders than with those from whom they buy or to whom they sell.

    Because many ventures depend on political favors, those who undertake such ventures must repay the politicians with favors. There has been no big venture in recent years which has not had to expend considerable sums for transactions which from the outset were clearly unprofitable but which, despite expected losses, had to be concluded for political reasons. This is not to mention contributions to non-business concerns — election funds, public welfare institutions, and the like.

    Powers working toward the independence of the directors of the large banks, industrial concerns, and joint-stock companies from the stockholders are asserting themselves more strongly. This politically expedited "tendency for big businesses to socialize themselves," that is, for letting interests other than the regard "for the highest possible yield for the stockholders" determine the management of the ventures, has been greeted by statist writers as a sign that we have already vanquished capitalism.Cf. Keynes, "The End of Laisser-Faire," 1926, see, Essays in Persuasion (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1932) pp. 314–315. In the course of the reform of German stock rights, even legal efforts have already been made to put the interest and well-being of the entrepreneur, namely "his economic, legal, and social self-worth and lasting value and his independence from the changing majority of changing stockholders,"Cf. Passow, Der Strukturwandel der Aktiengesellcschaft im Lichte der Wirtschaftsenquente, (Jena 1939), S.4. above those of the shareholder.

    With the influence of the state behind them and supported by a thoroughly interventionist public opinion, the leaders of big enterprises today feel so strong in relation to the stockholders that they believe they need not take their interests into account. In their conduct of the businesses of society in those countries in which statism has most strongly come to rule — for example in the successor states of the old Austro-Hungarian Empire — they are as unconcerned about profitability as the directors of public utilities. The result is ruin. The theory which has been advanced says that these ventures are too large to be run simply with a view toward profit. This concept is extraordinarily opportune whenever the result of conducting business while fundamentally renouncing profitability is the bankruptcy of the enterprise. It is opportune, because at this moment the same theory demands the intervention of the state for support of enterprises which are too big to be allowed to fail.

    3.

    It is true that socialism and interventionism have not yet succeeded in completely eliminating capitalism. If they had, we Europeans, after centuries of prosperity, would rediscover the meaning of hunger on a massive scale. Capitalism is still prominent enough that new industries are coming into existence, and those already established are improving and expanding their equipment and operations. All the economic advances which have been and will be made stem from the persistent remnant of capitalism in our society. But capitalism is always harassed by the intervention of the government and must pay as taxes a considerable part of its profits in order to defray the inferior productivity of public enterprise.

    The crisis under which the world is presently suffering is the crisis of interventionism and of state and municipal socialism, in short the crisis of anticapitalist policies. Capitalist society is guided by the play of the market mechanism. On that issue there is no difference of opinion. The market prices bring supply and demand into congruence and determine the direction and extent of production. It is from the market that the capitalist economy receives its sense. If the function of the market as regulator of production is always thwarted by economic policies in so far as the latter try to determine prices, wages, and interest rates instead of letting the market determine them, then a crisis will surely develop.

    Bastiat has not failed, but rather Marx and Schmoller.

    Energy Economics

    Energy Economics

    Some principles for understanding environmental issues. Can government steer energy use decisions to improve outcomes?

    Download the slides from this lecture at Mises.org/MU23_PPT_37.

    Recorded at the Mises Institute in Auburn, Alabama, on 28 July 2023.

    Economic Inequality

    Economic Inequality

    Inequality is a good thing in the free market. Economic equality is a disastrous government policy that leads to economic ruin for all—including the poor and workers.

    Download the slides from this lecture at Mises.org/MU23_PPT_36.

    Recorded at the Mises Institute in Auburn, Alabama, on 28 July 2023.