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The Sifted Bookshelf: Why Marx Was Right by Terry Eagleton
When a thinker has had an impact on history, it's hard to put that out of your mind and read his or her words in their original context. It's hard not to judge Christ by the Christians, or Freud by the Freudians. Nietzsche was done writing before Hitler was born, but it is hard not to equate Nietzsche's supermen with Hitler's master race.
That's what Terry Eagleton is asking us to do for Karl Marx: Put aside the distorting lens of Stalinism, Leninism, and Maoism and read Marx on his own terms -- as a 19th-century critic of capitalism rather than the patron saint of 20th-century communism. The book's main point is that most of what "everybody knows" about Marx is stereotype, not reality. Correctly understood, Marxist ideas about 19th-century capitalism still provide a lot of insight into what's going wrong with 21st-century capitalism.
Eagleton defeats one stereotype immediately: that Marxists are dour and humorless, and that they write in an impenetrable style whose jargon is meaningful only to other Marxists. Chapters of his books begins with plainly stated present-day attacks on Marx. Chapter One, for example :
- Marxism is finished. It might conceivably have had some relevance to a world of factories and food riots, coal miners and chimney sweeps, widespread misery and massed working classes. But it certainly has no bearing on the increasingly classless, socially mobile, postindustrial Western societies of the present.
Capital, property, and oppression. Here's the main definition you need in order to understand Eagleton's version of Marxism: Capital is labor that makes future labor more productive. The purpose of clearing and plowing a field, for example, is not any immediate consumption; the purpose is to make future planting and reaping more productive.
Economic progress happens because capital accumulates, and so labor keeps getting more productive. So I'm more productive as a journalist because I can use computers, which wouldn't be possible if people like Ben Franklin hadn't spent countless hours experimenting with electricity. Franklin's labor -- and the labor of generations of successor scientists and engineers -- is capital for me.
The fundamental mystery of economic progress, then, is: Why do people create capital? They could be laboring to produce something immediately consumable, or they could be resting or playing. Why labor to make future labor more productive?
Marx has two answers: property and oppression. A person will create capital if the surrounding society will recognize it as property. (I'll plant in the spring if my tribe will recognize that the fall crop is mine to reap. Otherwise I probably won't. Or I'll clear the stumps out of a field if people will recognize it as my field, so that it is my future labor that will be more productive.)
A society's level of technology determines what kinds of capital are possible, and that in turn determines what kinds of property the society will recognize. The Native Americans who sold Manhattan to the Dutch, for example, had no notion of what it meant to "own" an island. It would be like someone offering you trinkets in exchange for your share of the Moon. The Moon isn't property to us, but it could be to a space-traveling society.
The other reason people create capital is oppression -- someone forces them. They work, and the capital they create belongs to someone else. (Picture the slaves who dug the irrigation systems of ancient Sumer.)
Property and oppression interact. If I own all the arable land in a region, then people will work for me or they will starve. Naturally, I will set them to raising the food that they will consume. But I will also make them create capital that will belong to me, not them.
Subsistence and abundance. Looking at individuals, Marx saw two important production levels: subsistence, which is enough to keep the person alive, and abundance, the level at which a person will stop working and enjoy leisure. (When a deer is cooking, a tribal hunting band will not keep hunting. They'll gather around the fire and tell stories.)
Looking at societies, Marx saw that any surviving society had to be achieving subsistence. But until his own era, no society had achieved a level of production that could provide abundance for everyone. For that reason, he theorized that every previous society had needed oppression to keep growing its capital. Somehow, large numbers of people had to be kept working for future productivity, even though their present needs were not being satisfied.
So when Marx looked at any historical society, he saw:
- a technological level that determined what could be produced,
- a definition of property appropriate to that production system,
- a ruling class that owned the vast majority of the defined property,
- a system of oppression that forced everyone else to labor at creating capital for the ruling class.
He wasn't judgmental about this. It was just the way things had to be if a society was going to grow its capital to a point where it could provide abundance. (How, for example, could ancient peoples have invented writing -- a great capital improvement for the rest of history -- if slaves hadn't supported a class that had the time to think about such things?)
But in his own era, Marx believed that abundance-for-everybody was finally possible, because the highly efficient oppression of capitalism had accumulated enough capital to make labor sufficiently productive. If only the fruits of labor could be properly distributed, everybody could work enough to produce abundance for himself/herself, and then stop and enjoy leisure. To the extent that capital needed to develop further, it could be a kind of play -- like Ben Franklin mucking about with electricity or volunteers creating the Wikipedia.
In Marx's era (and even moreso today) considerable effort went into controlling production, so that overproduction didn't swamp the markets and ruin the capitalists. So you frequently had (and have) fallow fields, idle factories, unemployed workers, un-used raw materials -- and people whose needs go unsatisfied.
This state-of-affairs Marx did get judgmental about, because he believed we could finally be done with systems of oppression. The only thing that prevented this happy development was that society was still organized around the goal of growing capitalists' capital as fast as possible. He believed that a revolution was necessary to re-orient the economy towards producing abundance-for-everybody rather than ever-increasing capital for the ruling class.
So what didn't Marx foresee? Several things. He didn't foresee the European welfare state, which produces something like abundance-for-everybody by taxing capitalism rather than overthrowing it. He also didn't foresee the extent to which technology could create new products and advertising could create dissatisfaction, so that people would keep working for iPhones and HDTVs and designer jeans even after they had achieved a 19th-century level of abundance.
But mainly he didn't foresee that communist revolutions would happen in countries like Russia and China, which hadn't accumulated enough capital yet to provide abundance. So he didn't anticipate Stalinism: communist oppression to build mines, factories, and other productive capital. The kind of revolution Marx expected -- one in a highly developed capitalist economy like England -- has never happened.
Say you want a revolution? To Marx, it goes without saying that the ruling class rules for its own benefit, and preserves the institutions that solidify its power. Everything putters along nicely as long as the interests of the ruling class are in line with the economic possibilities of the era, and its institutions are socially productive.
But sooner or later new possibilities develop, and those possibilities line up with the interests of a new class. Eventually that class achieves enough consciousness to understand its potential, and then you have a tug-of-war until the new class comes out on top. The prime example here was what Europe had recently gone through: the transfer of power from the feudal aristocracy to the businessmen. Unlike the suddens spasms of the French or Russian Revolutions, the feudalism/capitalism revolution played out over centuries.
The symptoms of a revolution, then, are also symptoms of a ruling class being out of joint with its times. The institutions, traditions, concepts, and categories that support the ruling class become baggage rather than assets. Society has to do complicated tricks to keep them functioning, and they seem increasingly artificial rather than natural. (To see how artificial feudal traditions looked in the early capitalist era, read Jane Austen.)
In this context, it's interesting to look back at Martin Ford's The Lights in the Tunnel, which I reviewed two weeks ago. Ford is worrying about how we will provide human jobs in an era of intelligent machines, and so continue to have enough viable consumers to keep a consumer market economy going. He winds up with elaborate systems to pay people for socially productive behaviors that aren't considered "jobs" today.
Whatever you may think of Ford's specific suggestions, they're a symptom. Capitalist-era concepts like jobs and profits are starting to hobble economic thinking rather than facilitate it. Increasingly, the problem isn't how to produce stuff and distribute it; the problem is how to produce stuff at a profit and distribute it by paying people to work jobs.
Now that the 19th-century proletariat is shrinking, I don't have a clue what class Marx would think is achieving consciousness or what re-definitions could make the economy work for them. But it sure looks like this era is getting long in the tooth.
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