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Crossposted from another forum.
And if I'm crazy or stupid or ignorant, well, I can always append an Emily Latella "Never mind."
Is there something about the fundamentals of economics -- and by that I mean economics of any political persuasion -- that is simply lost on the majority of human beings, including more than a few DUers? Or have I been operating on a flawed premise all this time?
It seems to me that economies, all economies, start with three basics:
1. Agriculture and other food production (including fishing, hunting, raising crops, gathering berries, whatever) 2. Mining and other resource extraction (including timber cutting) 3. Manufacturing of all objects not found naturally.
The first is essential to human existence at any economic level, even paleolithic.
The second is essential to progressing beyond #1 to #3 and the creation of transferable wealth.
All of these require the addition of human labor in order to make them useful to the human creature. Homo sapiens sapiens has to pick the berries or grab the fish outta the water in order to eat. That's labor. The addition of labor makes the resource usable.
There is no value to anything without the addition of labor.
It's labor that picks up the stone and takes it back to the cave and shapes it into a clovis point. It's labor that pick up a long straight stick and takes it back to the cave. It's labor that fashions the string from animal sinew and uses it to attach the clovis point to the stick and make it into a spear. It's labor that uses the spear to bring down the mammoth.
Okay, have I got it right that far?
We're talkin' about An Economy at the most basic level. No money, no loans, no prime vs. Alt-A mortgages. Human subsistence. If you got questions or wanta throw in a "Yeah, but what if...?" you can just shut up 'cause you can't interrupt my rant while I'm the one at the keyboard.
So the point is that something lying on the ground or in the ground or growing on a bush or hopping down the bunny trail represents potential usefulness but it only becomes useful through the application of human labor. On the ground or on the tree it's nothing, until the application of human labor makes it something.
As our species progresses, using its talents and skills to turn resources into useful things, it develops other products besides food and the tools to acquire food. All of those products are produced with human labor. Whether it is hollowing out a log to make a canoe to go further out on the lake and spear bigger fish. Whether it is fashioning needles out of deer antler and thread out of deer guts to sew together deer skins into warm clothing that allows comfortable movement. The production of these objects constitutes the creation of "wealth." Useful items that can be accumulated and/or transferred are "wealth." The clan with a good canoe that can go out in the lake with four spearfishers and bring back a mess o' fish every day without sinking is a "wealthier" clan than the one otherwise equally equipped that has no canoe.
These are possessions. They have value insofar as they are of use to the humans who own them.
Our species develops further. One group of folks makes really great canoes. Their spearfishers always bring home more fish in a single day because their canoes are more stable and leak less, allowing them to stay out on the lake longer. The problem is that they don't do so good at making spear points. They have to take an extra spearfisher on every fishing trip because too many of their throws don't spear a fish. So they bring home more fish in their better canoes, but it actually takes MORE labor than if they had good spearpoints. Let's call this clan the Boatwrights.
Their rivals on the lake can only stay out on the water half as long. Their canoes are wobbly and they ship water easily with the slightest waves. But these folks make superb spears. They know where there's a deposit of large obsidian nodules from which they make razor sharp spear points. And they've perfected a technique for making perfectly balanced spear hafts to which to attach those points. So even though they don't bring back as many fish in a day's outing as the Boatwrights, the Spearmaker clan only spends one quarter of their day on the lake. They can actually go out every single morning, bring home the day's catch before noon, and spend the rest of their day making new spear points.
The Boatwrights, on the other hand, come back late in the afternoon, exhausted. They've got a two- or three-days' supply of fish, a good portion of which will rot before it gets eaten. And they can't go out again tomorrow because they're just worn out from throwing their spears with dull points.
Well, those of you with any imagination at all will probably figure out that the Spearmakers and the Boatwrights are going to get together and EXCHANGE THEIR LABOR. Now, with better boats AND better spears, they can bring home tons of fish every day.
In fact, they'll have way more fish than they need or can even consume. They have SURPLUS GOODS. So what ends up is that the Boatwrights build boats, and the Spearmakers make spears, and the best of each group become the Fishers who go out each day and bring back some fish to eat and some to trade with the tribe in the inland forest, the Hunters, who have perfected a nice little snare for rabbits and therefore have more dead bunnies than they can use.
So now we've got a nice little economy going on here. Boats, spears, fish, snares, rabbits -- all acquired with LABOR. It's LABOR that produces everything. One group doesn't "buy" the boat -- they "buy" the labor that turned the fallen tree trunk into the boat, and they "pay" for it with fish caught with human labor. The neolithic housewife doesn't "buy" the freshly killed deer; she buys the hunter's labor in stalking and killing it.
Nothing happens without labor.
Advancing a few generations, we now have a rudimentary civilization. Our Boatwrights and Spearmakers, Fishers and Hunters, Skinners and Potters, Farmers and Shepherds have built a little town with little huts. They have some petty crime and occasional raids from a distant tribe. They need some watchers, people who will stroll through the village and keep their eyes open for trouble, whether it's kids maliciously pulling down thatch just before a big storm or those raiders from across the river. The problem is that the watchers will have to have places to live and food to eat, so how can they take time away from those necessary activities in order to patrol the village?
This can only happen if the other villagers produce enough surplus to "pay" the Constables for their services. And since no one knows ahead of time which villager will actually need the Constables' service EVERYONE chips in to the common fund. And so taxation -- and socialism -- are born.
Let's move up a few more generations. In addition to the Boatwrights' canoe business and the Spearmakers' weaponry shop, the village now has a pottery factory, a cart factory, a tannery. They're so good at what they do that every family has a private cart, a set of every day pots and "good" pots, all kinds of wealth. In fact they have so much that they're trading their products around the whole region. They're "buying" sparkly stones from the Miners up in the mountains and fancy furs from some Minskies that come into town once in a while from parts unknown. They're even able to pay priests to do nothing but pray all day. Whether the priests actually get results from these prayers is questionable, since everything is supposed to happen after death -- those 72 virgins and all that -- and no one has provided any proof, but anyway it happens. The villagers have a lot of surplus LABOR stored up in their possessions.
Eventually of course they establish a medium for their trading, and money is born. This makes it easier to exchange the goods they make with their labor and to pay for those who don't produce any actual products, like the hairdresser and the musicians at the daughter's wedding.
About that wedding. See she was planning to get married next fall, after the harvest was brought in, but she and the guy got to bundling up one winter night and you know what happens, so to save the family's reputation, the wedding got moved up to spring. And now the dad has to go to the musicians and says, "Hey, fellas, I woulda had the money in October but we gotta have this wedding in April, so can I like pay you half now and the other half in October?" And they talk it over for a while and tell him, "Yeah, sure, but it's gonna cost you more." Rather than lose face by having the wedding after the baby comes or, worse, having a wedding without musicians, Dad agrees to pay more. And voila! Credit was born.
Credit is essentially the buying of Time. Time does not make things. Only Labor makes things.
Whether it's the individual family, the village, or a whole 21st century nation, debt is the purchase of Time, and the only way to pay off the debt is with Labor.
If you have two families or two villages who trade only in services -- whether it's protection from thieves or teaching the children -- there can be no creation of wealth for exchange. Wealth comes only from the production of goods beyond the needs of the producer, and then those goods can be exchanged for other goods or for services. At some point in any economy more complex than simple individual existence, the essential three activities have to be engaged in and be healthy. Any complex economy that doesn't provide its own food, procure its own raw materials, and manufacture its own products cannot survive.
Time is not a viable commodity. Time, in the form of credit, can facilitate 1 or 2 or 3, but it cannot take the place of any of them. And when the extension of credit, or the sale of Time, exceeds the ability of Labor to repay the debt, then the economy collapses. It may be an individual's maxed out credit cards, or it may be an entire nation that has such a voracious appetite for the things other nations' economies make or for useless commodities like War and Faith that it cannot pay for them.
And when the sellers of Time, those who have tried to alter reality so that the villagers believe Time is a real thing and a necessary Thing to their existence, more important in fact than the very real goods and services that they need to remain alive, then the economy begins to collapse. People begin to sell more and more of their Labor -- which is ultimately the only source of Wealth -- for less and less of value. Like the Boatwrights in their marvelous canoes that could go out on the lake all day and never sink or turn over, these people are working harder but getting less in return. If it used to take five fish to buy a bucket of berries, it now costs 12 fish.
Why did the price of berries suddenly go so high?
Well, there's a clan of folks who weren't any good at canoe building or spear sharpening so they went off to live on some scrubby swampy land loaded with mosquitoes and prickly bushes. All they had going for them was the berries on those bushes. They tasted good, but no one wanted to get down in there with the mosquitoes and the prickers on the bushes. The Berry clan, however, found out that they could pick a few extra berries, take 'em down to the village and sell 'em for lots of "cash." And then they found out that they could pay people a little bit of that cash to pick berries for them. So they'd sell a bucket of berries for five fish, pay someone two fish to pick 'em, spend another fish on the bucket, and pocket two fish for profit! Such A Deal!
And capitalism was born. The Berrys didn't do any work. They added nothing in Labor to the production of the fruit they were selling. They owned the land and they hired some Harvesters to do the real work, and they kept the profits.
And the next year it was six fish a bucket. And the Berrys bought out the family who made the village's leather. The Tanners retired and the Harvesters brought in some immigrants to run the tannery, but the Newcomers didn't control the price of the product or the quality. They didn't own the tannery the way the Tanners had; they just sold their labor to the Berrys. The Berrys paid them way less than the Tanners had made, but the Berrys were able to lower the price and still took the profit. And they used that profit to buy out the tannery in the next village and the next. The people in the villages had nowhere else to buy their leather, and they knew the new stuff wasn't nearly as good quality as when they were buying from the people who actually owned and ran the business with their own LABOR, but hey, the prices were cheap and what could you do?
Next thing you know, the price of berries is eight fish a bucket. The Berrys are getting richer all the time, but they are producing nothing. And the priests who make all the after-death promises are saying the Berrys are perfectly right in what they do, so all the people who live in misery as a result of the Berrys are told to shut the fuck up!
The Berrys and all of their ilk eventually create the whole banking and "insurance" industries, all of which create no wealth; they simply facilitate the transfer of it, sometimes for good, sometimes for not so good, and either way th bankers and the insurers take their cut.
What too many of us have not realized -- or not been taught -- is that without productive LABOR, the kind that produces the transferable wealth, there can be no economy. Banks are not an economy. Insurance companies are not an economy. Stock markets are not an economy. Labor is. Labor that produces useful goods and services (such as health care and teaching that facilitate labor to produce physical goods) is the foundation of any and all Economies.
We need the Boatwrights and the Spearmakers. We need the Carters and the Fishers and the Farmers and the Miners and the Tanners and the Shoemakers. It's possible to have an economy without the Bankers; it's not possible to have an economy without Labor.
Until more of our people understand this, we won't be able to turn this catastrophe around. And sadly, there are a whole bunch of people on DU even who don't get it.
Or else the one person who REALLY doesn't get it is
Tansy Gold
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