Modern analysis has made it possible to determine Ricardo’s theory of natural price works in System C. Does it work in every economy engaged in reproducing itself cyclically in the manner of System C? As a test of the theory, let us suppose that a more efficient technique has been discovered by the farmers in System C for producing corn. Previously, 100 units of labour were required to be combined with 2 units of corn and 16 units of iron to produce 300 units of corn. Henceforward, the same capital stock can produce the same output when combined with only 50 units of labour. (Once again, I stress that technological realism plays no role in this discussion.) The result, which we shall label System D, is as given in Table 4, assuming that subsistence remains unchanged.
System D
Labour Input Corn Input
Iron Input Books Input Output
Labour Sector
32 16 0 160
Corn Sector 50 2 16 0 300
Iron Sector 90 9 12 0 90
Books Sector 20 1 2 2 40
Total Input 160 44 46 2
In order to calculate
the labour values of corn, iron, and books in System D, we must form new labour
value equations, for the conditions of production in the corn sector have now
changed.
Following the
procedure by which we formulated equations (2) through (4), we obtain:
50 + 2λc + 16λi
+ 0λb = 300λc, (2’)
90 + 9λc + 12λi
+ 0λb = 90λi (3’)
and
20 + λc + 2λi
+ 2λb = 40λb. (4’)
When we solve
equations (2’) through (4’) in order to obtain the labour values of corn, iron,
and theology books in System D, using the same algebraic manipulations that
gave us the labour values in System C, we find that:
λc ≅ 2312
λi ≅ 1.1811
λb ≅ 5946
The change in the
technology of corn production has altered not only the labour value of corn,
but the labour value as well of iron and books. In each case, the new value is
lower than the old one. A moment’s reflection will show why this is so. The
“labour value” of corn is simply the quantity of labour directly or indirectly
required to produce a unit of corn. If a new technique of corn production is
introduced which lowers the quantity of some commodity required as input, then
clearly less labour will be required for the production of the corn output,
because part of the labour required is precisely the labour embodied in the
inputs. But with less labour required for the production of the same output of
corn, the labour embodied in each unit of corn output will be smaller. Now,
corn is required as an input into the iron and books industries. Hence, in
those industries as well, less labour will be required indirectly for
the same output, and so the labour value of iron and books will fall as
well. In this way, a change in the conditions (or “facility”) of production in
one industry radiates throughout the entire economy.
To calculate the
relative prices in System D, we must form new price equations, reflecting the
altered conditions of production in the corn industry. Following the same
procedure as before, with corn chosen as “money” or numeraire, we have:
(50w + 2 + 16pi)(l
+ π) = 300, (5*)
(90w + 9 + 12pi)(
l + π) = 90pi, (6*)
and
(20w + 1 + 2pi
+ 2pb)(l + π) = 40pb. (7*)
When we attempt to
calculate the relative prices and the profit rate in System D, we encounter a
disturbing problem. In manipulating equations (5*) through (7*), we find that
the wage, w, does not drop out of the calculation. In fact, the
prices and the profit rate do not become determinate until we specify the wage.
Following the same procedure used above, we will fix the real wage at .2 units
of corn and .1 units of iron. If we substitute into our equations the
expression w = .2pc + .1 pi and solve for the values of
the variables, we obtain:
pc = 1
pi ≅ 3.869
pb ≅ 1.962
w ≅ .5869
π ≅ 2.217
We can check to, see
whether Ricardo’s theory of natural price holds for System D; as it did for
System C, by substituting the labour values and prices just obtained into
equation (1). When we do, we find that:
(pc/λc)
≅ 4.325
(Pi/λi)
≅ 3.276
where has Ricardo’s theory gone wrong? Let us follow Ricardo’s
own thinking in this matter, for he knew full well that prices are not always
proportional to labour values, and he even saw essentially why they are
not.
As we have seen, in
the heading of section three of the chapter on value in Principles,
Ricardo announces the theory that the natural prices of commodities are
determined by the labour indirectly as well as directly bestowed on them in the
process of their production. Immediately following section three, Ricardo
acknowledges the existence of other factors that affect natural price. The
headings of sections four and five tell the story:
Section IV
The principle that
the quantity of labour bestowed on the production of commodities regulates
their relative value, considerably modified by the employment of machinery and
other fixed and durable capital.
Section V
The principle that
value does not vary with the rise or fall of wages, modified also by the
unequal durability of capital, and by the unequal rapidity with which it is
returned to its employer.
Ricardo states the point exactly correctly when he says: “If
men employed no machinery in production but labour only, and were all the same
length of time before they brought their commodities to market, the
exchangeable value of their goods would be precisely in proportion to the
quantity of labour employed.”
The problem, to put the point abstractly, is that the
production of commodities requires time in addition to nature and human labour.
In the calculation of the labour values – the quantities of labour directly and
indirectly required for production – no account is taken of the time that must
elapse between the moment when the bestowing of labour commences and the moment
when the commodity appears on the market, available for sale. But in the
rational calculations of prudent entrepreneurs, time plays a central role. A
rate of return on capital invested is a percentage increment per period of time
elapsed. If the ruling profit rate is 10 percent, the prudent capitalist will
seek to earn 10 percent per annum on the value of capital invested, which is 21
percent in two years, 33.1 percent in three years, and so forth. Those
commodities produced in a more “roundabout” manner, to use Böhm-Bawerk’s
felicitous phrase, must sell at prices that deviate more significantly from
their labour values in order for their producers to earn the society-wide rate of
profit.
Ricardo was painfully aware of the fact that the failure of
prices to be proportional to labour values undermined his entire economic
theory. So long as prices are proportional to labour values, and so long
therefore as the distributional variables, w and π, are
independent of the prices of commodities, it is possible unambiguously to
analyse the distribution of the social surplus. We can separate out the effects
on the economy of a change in technology, which will show up as a change in
relative prices, and a change in the distribution of the surplus, which will
show up as a rise of the wage and a fall of the profit rate, or vice versa.
Since labour values are derived directly from the technical conditions of
production, they are unaffected by the way in which the surplus is divided
between workers and capitalists – which is to say, they are independent of the
values taken on by w and π. If prices are proportional to
these labour values, then obviously prices as well will be independent of the
wage and profit rate.
In a system of this sort, a rise in the wage is
unambiguously an improvement in the real (i.e., physical) income of the workers.
Changes in relative prices will be a consequence solely of changes in the
facility of production of commodities. Thus, it will be possible always to
distinguish between objective or technical changes on the one hand and social
or distributional changes on the other. To put the same point differently, it
will always be possible to distinguish between a redistribution of the existing
physical surplus and a technological change that alters the size and
composition of the surplus.
But as our analysis of System D reveals, this lovely idea of
Ricardo’s is doomed to failure, as he himself knew. Although there is a good
deal more of importance in Ricardo’s political economy, including his theory of
rent and his analysis of the determination of the real wage, from a strictly
theoretical standpoint, Ricardo’s labour theory of natural price comes to a
dead halt right here. Just as Adam Smith was unable theoretically to extend his
correct analysis of the early and rude state to the case in which the accumulation
of stock and the appropriation of land has taken place, so Ricardo is unable to
provide an adequate analysis of the deviation of natural prices from labour
values as a consequence of unequal times that elapse between the bestowal of
labour on the production of commodities and their realisation, or sale, in the
market.
What is it about some systems that makes their natural
prices independent of the distributional variables and proportional to the
labour values? Why is it that prices are proportional to labour values
in System C, but are not in System D and so many other systems besides?
Is there something peculiar about the structure of System C that yields this
proportionality? Because we are dealing at so high a level of abstraction, in
which our only data are the quantities of labour and commodities required as
inputs in each line of production, the answer can only lie in some quantitative
feature of the relative proportions in which the different inputs are
combined.
In the corn sector of System C, 100 units of labour are
bestowed directly on the production of the corn output. The non-labour inputs
consist of 2 units of corn and 16 units of iron. These embody 2(.4) + 16(1.2) =
20 units of labour, which is thus indirectly required for production. The ratio
of labour directly required to labour indirectly required is 5:1. Analogous
calculations reveal that the same ratio, 5:1, obtains in the iron and theology
books sectors as well. Intuitively, we might guess that when the ratio of
labour directly required to labour indirectly required is the same in all lines
of production, then variations in the wage rate, and consequently in the profit
rate, will affect all commodities proportionally, and hence will not alter the
price of one commodity relative to another. An increase in the profit rate
will, of course, work itself out more heavily the farther back in the past we
carry our calculations, but since the proportion of labour directly to labour
indirectly bestowed is the same for all commodities, no differential advantage
will accrue to one commodity relative to another.
In System D, we find that the ratios of labour directly required
to labour indirectly required in the several sectors are widely divergent. In
System D, the ratio of direct labour inputs to embodied labour in the corn
sector is roughly 2.58 to 1, whereas the ratio in the iron sector is 5.537
to 1. The fact is that our general
theoretical intuition is correct. In linear models like those we have been
examining, so long as there is a positive rate of profit, natural prices are
proportional to labour values if and only if the proportion of labour
directly required to labour indirectly required is the same in all lines of production. Ricardo’s labour theory of natural price
holds true for all and only those surplus-producing economies with
positive rates of profit in which the ratio of labour directly bestowed on
commodities in production to labour embodied in non- labour inputs and thereby
indirectly bestowed on, or transmitted to, commodities in production is the
same in all sectors.
Thus far, our result may appear to be little more than a
theoretical curiosity, for the condition that direct to indirect labour ratios
be the same in all industries is thoroughly contrary to economic experience,
and without apparent significance. Since it is generally the case that
agriculture is relatively labour intensive and industry is relatively capital
intensive, we would never expect to find an actual economy that even
approximated equal ratios of direct and indirect labour across the board.
The result takes on a much deeper historical and theoretical
significance however, when we discover, as we shall presently, that it serves
as the starting point for Marx’s theoretical investigations. The condition of
equality of proportion of direct to indirect labour is arithmetically
equivalent to what, in the terminology of Karl Marx, is called “equal organic
composition of capital.” Beginning precisely at the point where Ricardo’s
theory fails, Marx writes all of volume one of Capital from the point of
view of, or on the assumption of, the proportionality of prices to labour
values. Only after he has thoroughly explored this theoretical terrain does he
go on, in volume three, to examine the general case in which prices deviate
from labour values. Why he should choose to adopt this course will turn out to
be a key to understanding his theory of capitalist exploitation.
With the formulation of the conditions under which Ricardo’s
theory of natural price fails, we have come to the theoretical dead end of his
system. Ricardo himself devoted his last several years to unsuccessful attempts
to analyse the problem, and in an unfinished essay written during the
final weeks of his life, we can see him still turning the puzzle this way and
that. Before turning to Marx, however,
we must devote a few pages to the two portions of Ricardo’s system that we have
thus far passed over in silence, namely his theory of rent and his theory of
the determination of the wage.
Ricardo’s
Theory of Rent
Our analytical story began with Adam Smith’s observation
that commodities fail to exchange in proportion to the labour directly required
for their production once we acknowledge accumulations of capital stock and
private appropriation of land. We have now completed our examination of
Ricardo’s theoretical attempt to take account of the accumulation of capital,
but we have not yet considered how he proposed to handle the fact of privately
appropriated land. Strictly speaking, the Ricardian theory of rent is not
directly relevant to our story, for the problem of rent is a side issue for
Marx. Nevertheless, Ricardo’s solution to the puzzle of rent is one of the
analytical high points of the classical period, and is well worth a slight detour.
All commodities are produced, directly or indirectly, by the
mixing of human labour with nature. Nature is, as Locke put it, a free gift
from God, and so long as human need – or, more accurately, effective market
demand – falls short of the abundant fecundity of God’s gift, the part played
by nature in production has no economic significance. When fertile land
is plentiful, it will make no difference should one man lay claim to a portion
of it and seek, by force of arms or writ of law, to exclude others from it. The
rest will simply move on to new land, equally fertile, and mix their labour
with it. Nor will anyone be willing to pay so much as a farthing for the sheer
privilege of working a piece of land, so long as equally good land remains unclaimed.
Indeed, even if all the fertile land has been
appropriated, Ricardo supposes, virtually no rent will be paid so long as three
conditions are fulfilled: first, no single landholding must comprise so large a
share of the whole that some cultivation of it will be required to satisfy
existing effective demand (this guarantees that no single landowner has a
stranglehold on the market for corn). Second, landlords and entrepreneurs must
be perfectly self-interestedly rational (this guarantees that we can make a
priori predictions of their behaviour purely on the basis of a calculation
of their economic interest). And third, no collusion must take place either
among landowners or among entrepreneurs (this eliminates the possibility of
monopolies or monopsonies that destroy the effects of market competition). If a
landowner were to attempt to charge a rent for the use of his land, competition
from other landowners, whose holdings were earning no rent and had no
alternative uses, would drive the prevailing rent virtually to zero.
Let us now suppose that through population growth, the
demand for food rises until all the available land of the best quality is under
cultivation. As demand continues to grow, the market price of corn will rise
above its natural price, and the entrepreneurs who have invested in corn production
will earn a super-profit. At this point, two things will happen. First, it will
become profitable, for the first time, to bring into cultivation less fertile
lands, lands which require a greater application of capital (more labour, more
fertiliser, more tools) per unit of output. It will be profitable because even
though a bushel of corn grown and harvested on this land costs more to produce,
still the unnaturally elevated price of corn permits entrepreneurs consigned to
the less profitable land to earn at least the going rate of profit, and
possibly more. But second, these newly arrived entrepreneurs, seeing the much
greater rate of return earned by those farming the original, more fertile land,
will offer to pay a rent to the owners of this land for its use, because they
can afford to pay a rent and still do better than on the less fertile land, for
the use of which they pay nothing.
Competition over time equilibrates the system so that the rent
paid on the less fertile land just absorbs the extra return that would
otherwise accrue to the entrepreneurs who grow their corn on it. In this way, a
single system-wide profit rate is re-established. Four things have changed:
more corn is being grown; some of the corn is being grown with a new, less
efficient technique; a rent is being paid on the most fertile land; and the
price of corn has risen.
In fact – and this is for Ricardo the theoretical point of
the entire exercise – the price of corn is determined by the technical
conditions (or “facility of production”) on the least fertile land. It
is those conditions that determine how much an entrepreneur will be willing to
pay in order to shift his production to the more fertile land, and it is thus
those conditions that determine how large a rent will be paid for the more
fertile land.
Now, in a competitive economy, there can be only one natural
price for each commodity, and only one profit rate. By hypothesis, no rent is
paid on the less fertile land. Hence, rent plays no role in the price of the
corn grown on that land. But since the price charged for that corn must be the
single price at which all corn sells, it follows that rent plays no role at all
in the determination of the price of corn. And that being so, rent plays no
role at all in the determination of any price in the economy!
This is a remarkable and thoroughly counterintuitive
conclusion, which merits a bit of reflection. To the entrepreneur who must pay
for his seed, his tools, his machines, his labour, and for the use of
the land on which he raises his crop, it certainly appears that rent plays a
role in the determination of price. The entrepreneur who prices his output
without allowing for rental charges will quickly go broke, no matter what David
Ricardo says. If rent is not a cost of production, what then is it?
Ricardo’s answer, quite simply, is that rent is a deduction
from profits. It is a diversion to the landlords of a portion of the profits
earned by the entrepreneur. Adam Smith and the others have the matter exactly
backwards. The price of corn is not driven up by the rentals paid to the
landlords. No doubt the landlords will extract whatever rent they can, but in a
competitive market entrepreneurs will consent to the payment of a rent only if
they can thereby gain access to fertile land for the growing of corn which
can be sold dear on the market. As Ricardo says in one of the best-known tags
of classical political economy, “Corn is not high because a rent is paid, but a
rent is paid because corn is high.”
Ricardo’s theory of rent is thus, among other things, an
addendum to his answer to the question: Who gets the surplus? In an economy in
which arable land is scarce, a portion of the surplus is appropriated by the landlords
in the form of the rentals they charge for the use of their land. The market is
the mechanism by which they get their rentals, and the size of their share of
the surplus is determined by the relationship between the conditions of
production on the most fertile land and on land of lesser fertility.
In real terms, what has taken place is a transfer of a
portion of the entrepreneurial profit into the hands of the landlords, who
collectively hold a monopoly of a scarce resource – fertile land. The money
wage has changed, but by an amount just sufficient to permit workers to
purchase the same market basket of goods at the new prices. It follows that
there is no real opposition of interest between the landed class and the
working class. The real conflict is between the landed gentry and the
capitalist class.
As the demand for corn grows, it is quite possible that all
of the second-quality land will be brought under cultivation without satisfying
demand. Even less fertile land will then be cultivated. The even less facile
mode of production employed on the least fertile land will result in a still
higher price for corn, and this in turn will increase the rent on the most
fertile land and introduce for the first time a rent on the land of second
quality. The rentals will differ by just enough to maintain a single
economy-wide price for corn. The profit rate will of course fall. In this way,
a schedule of graduated rents can come into existence on lands of decreasing
fertility. Always, there will be no rent paid on the least fertile land, and it
will be the conditions of production on that land that will determine
the price of corn.
The reason for Ricardo’s fear of a “stationary state”
emerges clearly from this analysis. Ricardo, like Smith, was persuaded that
economic growth would come only from the productive investment of the
revenues of the capitalist class, not from the expenditures of rental income,
which he saw as being unproductively consumed in the maintenance of a grand
style of manorial living. As population growth increased the demand for food,
ever less fertile land would be called into cultivation. Rentals would rise and
the profit rate would fall, and a larger and larger share of the social surplus
would be transferred to the unproductive consumption of the landlords. The
portion of the surplus devoted to new investment would shrink until, at the
horrible limit, the entire annual surplus would go for rent, and scarcely
enough would remain in profits to encourage entrepreneurs even to undertake
simple reproduction.
Ricardo’s Theory of Wage Labour
Labour, like all other things which are purchased or
sold, and which may be increased or diminished in quantity, has its natural and
its market price. The natural price of labour is that price which is necessary
to enable the labourers, one with another, to subsist and to perpetuate their
race, without either increase or diminution.
The central fact of capitalism is the historic separation of
the working class from the means of production, and the consequent emergence of
wage labour. Dobb has remarked that Ricardo’s argument against Adam Smith’s
“adding-up” theory of price “turned on his bringing money itself within the
circle of commodities, and in doing so postulating that the price of any commodity
or group of commodities can only rise if more labour is required to produce it
relatively to the amount of labour required to produce an ounce of gold.” It
could even more pointedly be argued that the heart of Ricardo’s theoretical
advance lay in his bringing labour itself within the circle of
commodities.
Everything in Ricardo’s discussion in the chapter “On Wages”
makes it clear that labour is to be analysed as a produced commodity. The
quantity of labour available on the market adjusts itself to long-run
fluctuations in effective demand, just as does the quantity of corn or iron.
And the natural price of labour is determined by the quantity of labour
directly and indirectly bestowed upon its production. Clearly, the
treatment of labour itself as a produced commodity, both by society and by the
theorists of political economy, constitutes a development of enormous
historical and theoretical importance. Since this theoretical and historical
development lies at the heart of Capital, we shall postpone an extended
discussion of it until we come to Marx’s political economy. At this point in
our story, let us confine ourselves to those points that are essential to an
understanding of Ricardo’s theory.
Ricardo was able to incorporate wage labour into an analysis
of the value-determination of produced commodities by adopting Thomas Malthus’
views concerning the growth and fluctuation of population in response to
variations in the real wage. In the opening paragraphs of the Principles,
Ricardo observes that there are some commodities “the value of which is
determined by their scarcity alone. No labour,” he says, “can increase the
quantity of such goods, and therefore their value cannot be lowered by an
increased supply.” Ricardo cites the now classic examples of “some rare statues
and pictures, scarce books and coins, [and] wines of a peculiar quality, which
can be made only from grapes grown on a particular soil.” But he brushes these
sorts of commodities aside impatiently, noting that they “form a very small part
of the mass of commodities daily exchanged in the market.” Like his fellow
analysts of the burgeoning capitalism whose revolutionary productivity was even
then pouring forth such heaps of commodities as had never been seen before,
Ricardo focuses his theoretical attention on common consumer and capital goods
– corn, iron, linen, woolens – not on the luxury goods that had formed the
predominant part of the trade of an earlier age. Rather than argue the matter
at length, Ricardo simply lays it down as a stipulated constraint on his system
that “in speaking then of commodities, of their exchangeable value, and of the
laws which regulate their relative prices, we mean always such commodities only
as can be increased in quantity by the exertion of human industry, and on the
production of which competition operates without restraint.”
There are, however, two items on the market whose quantity
seems, at first sight, not to be capable of increase at will, but whose
importance to the economy does not permit us to consign them to the residual
category of old pictures and fine wines, namely land and labour.
The available acreage of arable land and the labour force seem to be fixed
quantities that must be treated as parameters of any economic model, not as
variables. Ricardo’s theory of value, or indeed any theory of value that
explains price as determined by cost of production, depends upon a successful
treatment of the prices of land and labour – rent and the wage.
Ricardo has handled rent by adopting the
West/Torrens/Malthus analysis, according to which the rental charged by
landlords plays no role in the determination of price. To deal with labour,
Ricardo takes up Malthus’ theory that population adjusts itself to food supply.
The wage is construed as the price of labour, and a cost-of-production
account is given of the determination of that price. When excess demand for
labour (during a period of rapid economic expansion, for example) drives the
market price for labour above its natural price for any significant period of
time, the working class responds by bearing and rearing more children. After a
period of disequilibrium, the augmented supply of labour drives the market
price down to its natural price.
In weighing the plausibility of the Ricardo/Malthus theory
of the wage, particularly in comparison with Marx’s alternative account of the
“reserve army of the unemployed,” we ought to keep in mind that Ricardo was
writing at the beginning of the nineteenth century, at a time when the secular
growth of the labour force was more significant than short-term fluctuations
attendant upon business booms and busts.
Prudent capitalists choose the most efficient techniques
available for the production of their commodities, combining just as little
corn, iron, linen, and labour as is absolutely required by the technology of
the period. Competition ensures that there will be no waste, for the entrepreneur
who allows his tools and raw materials to be used with less than maximal
efficiency will be driven to the wall by competition in the market.
So too, we are to suppose, workers adopt a technique for the
reproduction of their labour – a standard of living, we call it – that is
maximally efficient. The worker who insists on eating steak rather than
potatoes, and who prices her product – her labour – to suit will find herself
unable to sell her product on the market. She will be out of a job, in short.
Thus, the natural or equilibrium price of labour will be a wage just sufficient
to support a subsistence standard of living.
But to this Swiftian tale, Ricardo adds the crucially
important qualification that habit and custom, history and culture, in part
determine what will count, at any moment, as subsistence. One passage
will suffice to represent Ricardo’s views on this subject, which are not very
systematically developed:
It is not to be understood that the natural price of
labour, estimated even in food and necessaries, is absolutely fixed and
constant. It varies at different times in the same country, and very materially
differs in different countries. It essentially depends on the habits and
customs of the people. An English labourer would consider his wages under their
natural rate, and too scanty to support a family, if they enabled him to
purchase no other food than potatoes, and to live in no better habitation than
a mud cabin; yet these moderate demands of nature are often deemed sufficient
in countries where “man’s life is cheap,” and his wants easily satisfied.. Many
of the conveniences now enjoyed in an English cottage, would have been thought
luxuries at an earlier period of our history.
Ricardo shows no awareness that the collective definition of
subsistence might be a matter over which classes could struggle, nor, needless
to say, does he evince any recognition of the deep epistemological problems
posed by the possibility that the cognition of certain elements of social
reality is an object of class conflict.
One of the peculiar consequences of Ricardo’s assimilation
of the reproduction of the working class to the entrepreneurial production of
commodities is that in his theoretical model, workers are the only producers
who have a significant positive interest in employing sub-optimal methods of
production insofar as they are able! From an economic point of view, an
improvement in the standard of living of the working class is a step backward
to a less efficient method of production. A higher standard of living means
less capital available for investment and growth.
Piero Sraffa, in his modern reconstruction of the Ricardian
perspective, adopts an alternative way of analysing the price of labour. He
treats all wage payments as a distribution of a portion of the surplus, in the
manner of neoclassical theory but not of classical or Marxian theory.
He then studies the relationship between the wage and the profit rate,
allowing each to vary from zero to its maximum magnitude. If we look back at
System C, for example, we can calculate that π reaches its maximum at π
= 5, when w = 0. When π = 0, w = 2.5 units of corn.
This mode of analysis has a number of implications, all of which seem to me to
be unfortunate for a fruitful exploration of capitalist economies.
The first is that as far as the formal structure of the
model is concerned, the wage rate can in principle sink to zero, leaving the
workers to live on air. A rise in the wage above zero is construed as a
reflection of some positive measure of political or bargaining power of the working
class. But this is contrary to capitalist reality. As Ricardo and Marx quite
correctly observe, at any specific moment in history there is a physically and
socially defined conception of subsistence that determines a floor below which
the real wage may not for long be allowed to fall.
Viewed from the perspective of Ricardo and Marx,
labour/management bargaining takes two quite distinct forms. The first is a
struggle over the distribution of what is acknowledged to be surplus, with
capital seeking to drive labour’s wage down to subsistence, and labour seeking
to raise the wage above subsistence. The second is a straggle over the social
definition of reality itself – a struggle over what shall count as part of
subsistence. Are medical services necessary, or are they a luxury? Are pensions
necessary, or are they too luxuries? Is meat a necessary part of a
working-class diet? And so on. The periodic redefinition by the U.S. Bureau of
Labour Statistics of a poverty-level standard of living for a family of four is
merely the latest and most sophisticated version of this old struggle.
When scarcity of labour drives the market wage above the
natural wage (as defined by the conditions of subsistence), workers strive to
preserve their gain by redefining “subsistence.” Capitalists meanwhile seek to
drive down the natural wage by branding costly elements of the working-class
real wage bundle as luxuries that are unnecessary and inimical to a
satisfactory rate of capital accumulation. The importance of this direction of
analysis lies precisely in its identification of the ways in which the
collective social definition of reality supersedes merely technical production
relations. This in turn introduces an historical dimension into what is
otherwise a timeless analysis of objective input/output proportions. Sraffa’s
analysis confuses the two quite different forms of labour/capital
struggle.
The second consequence of treating wages as a distribution
from surplus is that wage goods (food, clothing, and shelter) must be construed
formally as luxuries rather than as inputs into production. Food, on this
construal, is not directly or indirectly required for the production of
all commodities, even though labour is directly required in all industries,
because it is in theory possible for workers to consume nothing at all. It
follows that a change in the facility of production of corn will have no effect
on the profit rate. Aside from the fact that this consequence is utterly false
to Ricardo’s intentions and underlying ideas, it is, I suggest, a quite
unfortunate analytical implication to build into one’s basic model.
Third, the Sraffa line of analysis construes labour as a
scarce good whose supply is determined outside the economy, not as a produced
commodity whose natural price is governed by the conditions of its reproduction
and whose available quantity is regulated by market forces. In short, labour
is, in Sraffa’s model, exactly like land. Now, the Sraffa/Ricardo analysis of
rent portrays it as a distribution of a portion of the surplus to landowners as
a consequence of the scarcity of land of the best quality. When land of the
best quality is not in short supply, competition together with the rational
self-interest of the landowners drives rental charges to zero. But as far as
any analytical feature of Sraffa’s formal model is concerned, labour ought
therefore to earn no wage at all. The workers, like the landowners, are the
possessors of a factor of production that is in excess supply and has no
alternative uses. In therefore ought to bear a zero price.
More generally, insofar as we distinguish skill levels, and
admit alternate techniques of production using labour of differing skill
levels, we can suppose that when all the most highly skilled workers have been
employed at vanishingly low wages, a rent will arise on their scarce skills,
and they will begin to receive this wage while their less-skilled brethren
receive no wage at all for unskilled labour. The wage, like ground rent, will
thus be seen as a distribution of the surplus, having no effect on prices. On
this analysis, which is indeed implicit in the Sraffa approach, the only
difference between landlords and labourers is the extra-economic fact that
workers organise to drive the wage above its natural economic level, for
example by unionisation or other techniques for creating artificial scarcity,
whereas landlords do not.
What the post refers to as "a struggle over what shall count as part of subsistence" is indeed important. As RPW observes, Ricardo and Marx recognized this.
ReplyDeleteIt may be interesting to note that some non-Marxists, even conservatives, have made a similar point, minus the emphasis on labor/capital struggle. These formulations refer to a variable standard of subsistence without suggesting exactly how a particular definition of it is arrived at, and, while not using the word "subsistence," they are talking about what standard of living is viewed as minimally acceptable by a society. For instance, in The Inequality of Nations (1977), R.W. Tucker wrote: "What we regard as humane treatment -- that is, the treatment that men [sic] are entitled to by virtue of their humanity -- is a standard that will vary from age to age and will reflect the social and economic conditions of society." Similarly, Kenneth Minogue in The Liberal Mind (1963) referred to "the idea of welfare" as depending on "the variable standards of a rising industrial society...." (I quoted both of these passages in something I wrote once upon a time.)
I do not understand why you are doing this. Know next to nothing about blogidegger but book length seems inappropriate. I would like to know how the heck Heidegger got rehabilitated. One says the Americans did it, following Ms. Arendt. Am really enjoying your Ideology lectures.
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