A Short Guide to Capitalism (2017)

From the April 2017 issue of the Socialist Standard

Capitalism can be defined as a world-wide economic system involving commodity-production by wage-labour, driven by the imperative to make profits and to accumulate them as more and more capital.

Generalised commodity-production, nearly all wealth being produced for sale on a market: '

Commodity' is a term inherited by Marx from the Classical Political Economists Adam Smith and David Ricardo who used it to mean an item of wealth produced for sale on an 'anonymous' market, that is without knowing in advance who the buyer will be. This existed before capitalism, but only on the margins. With capitalism, the production of commodities becomes general with nearly all items of wealth produced for sale. As such they have an 'exchange value', or, in money terms, a price, which is ultimately related to the amount of labour that needs to be spent to produce them from start to finish.

The investment of capital in production with a view to obtaining a monetary profit: 

Capital, as a sum of money used to make more money also existed before capitalism but, once again, only marginally, as with moneylenders and long-distance merchants who bought cheap and sold dear. In neither case, however, was the money invested in production. This only began when certain conditions arose, such as productive techniques involving large-scale operations, the accumulation by a few of wealth in the form of money, but above all, the creation of a landless proletariat. Then, money-capital seeking a profit came to be invested in the production of commodities by hired wage workers. So, capital is a sum of money invested in production with a view to profit, or a sum of exchange values used to produce a greater amount of exchange values. Marx described it as 'self-expanding value.'

The exploitation of wage labour, the source of profit being the unpaid labour of the producers: 

That most production of wealth today is carried out by people paid a wage or salary is not controversial. It's obvious, an everyday experience. This reflects the division of society into a minority who, together, own/control all the means of wealth production, and the rest who, excluded from such ownership, are forced by economic necessity to try to sell their working skills for a living. What is perhaps not so obvious is that this involves 'exploitation'. The word is associated with low wages and bullying overseers, but this is not the sense used here. Here, it refers to the fact that, as wealth can only be produced through work, a non-work income derived from production, such as profits are, can only come out of what those who work have produced. In more technical terms, productive workers produce new wealth with a value greater than that of their working skills, the difference being 'surplus value.'

The regulation of production by the market via a competitive struggle for profits: 

There is not much controversy over this either, but two questions arise. First, what are the units of competition? They are capitals – sums of money invested in production with a view to profit – but embodied in 'enterprises'. An enterprise can be an individual owner, a joint-stock company or corporation, a nationalised industry, even a workers' co-operative; the institutional form of the enterprise is not important as far as competition is concerned. The second question is: who are enterprises competing with? It might be thought that competition is only between enterprises in the same line of business, but in fact it is much wider than this. All enterprises are ultimately competing against each other to draw as much profit as they can from the pool of new surplus value produced in all lines of business. Due to the tendency of all capitals to make the same rate of profit, while surplus value is created in production it is won on the market. This gives rise to the illusion shared by those in charge of enterprises that this is where profits originate and that they are 'the wealth producers'. In fact, business acumen in the competitive struggle for profits affects only how much profit a particular enterprise gets, not where it comes from.

The accumulation of capital out of profits, leading to the expansion and development of the means of production: 

Capitalism is a profit system. Profit is what makes it go round. But it is not a system of profits for the consumption of the owning class. Certainly, they get a share of profits to enjoy themselves and lead a life of luxury, but to maintain their privileged lifestyle is not what capitalism as an economic system is about. It is not driven by their greed. The system works in such a way as to compel the re-investment of most profits as more capital, as more money invested in production. Marx remarked that the battle of competition is fought by the cheapening of commodities. The way enterprises do this is by improving productivity so that the unit cost of their commodity falls (more of them produced in the same period of time), so improving their competitiveness. The main way they do this is by installing new, more efficient machines, paid for out of profits. So, capital comes to be accumulated as more and more means of production, which also leads to enterprises becoming larger and larger. Growth of both productive capacity and production, under pressure of the competitive struggle for profits, is built-in to the system and imposes itself as an external force on those in charge of enterprises.  This is what drives capitalism. If an enterprise didn't re-invest its profits but disbursed them all for the personal consumption of its shareholders, then eventually it would lose out in the battle of competition and go bust. Capitalism is a system of profit for capital accumulation, not simply a system of production for profit.

A single world economy: 

You often hear talk about 'the British economy', 'the German economy', 'the American economy' and so on, which can suggest that capitalism is a collection of national capitalist economies. But it's not. It's a single economic system that now dominates the whole world. So-called national economies are merely parts of its domain that fall under the political jurisdiction of one or other of the 190 or so states into which the world is divided. Capitalism in one country is just as impossible as socialism in one country. Quite apart from when they run their own enterprises (nationalised industries), states, along side enterprises, are actors in the world capitalist system in their own right. They act to try to ensure that as much of world surplus value finds its way as profits to enterprises operating from within its borders, by helping to procure and protect overseas markets, investment outlets and sources of raw materials. But what they can do here is limited by the need to avoid undermining the competitiveness of enterprises operating from within their borders. States, too, have to submit to the economic imperatives of capitalism.

Short Story: The Armchair (1987)

A Short Story from the April 1987 issue of the Socialist Standard

It was a very beautiful chair. People did not believe that he had made it himself. They asked how much it cost. Only their children understood. They always asked to sit in it and he always let them. Parents stood aside and smiled wryly, as if apologising. But the children knew what Karel's chair was for.

His hands were old. He could not make things any more. People knew that he was poor, and that he could not afford to eat well or keep his house warm. They offered to buy the armchair at a low price. Karel smiled and shook his head. They did not ask again. They knew it was Karel's chair. But they let their children visit him.

He had a strange accent. The children asked if he was a Russian spy. He nodded gravely and they shrieked. He showed them his woodworking tools and told them the names. Some of them tried to make things. On his mantelpiece was a collection of animals with the children's names cut on them. Terry said: "It's s'posed to be a horse. It's for if I ever go away". He put it into Karel's hands. It was the first thing he had ever made.

One day Rosie cut her hand badly, and had to go to hospital. After that the children did not come any more. Karel sat in his armchair and smoked his pipe and waited. They did not come. Only the ticking of the carriage clock disturbed the silence.

He stroked the arm of his chair. It was old and darkened walnut. His fingers ran idly along the engravings, feeling the wood twist and writhe under his skin. It could be a blind man's chair. The leather upholstery was scented and soft as vintage port, the back smooth and caressing. But for the sighted there was the inlay. The swirling flows and florets of mother-of-pearl had a luminous rainbow sheen which danced and flickered in the firelight and gave life and power to the grain. Slowly the fire died. The room grew darker. In the gloom Karel dozed.

He had come to England in 1926, the year of the General Strike. He was young and excited, anxious to start work, eager to use his hands to carve and chisel and polish, ready to pass on his dead father's skills. First he found work on the docks, later on a building site. For three years he did only heavy labouring, and made enough to live. Then he was made apprentice to a cabinet-maker. It was what he had waited for. He soon earned respect for his craftsmanship and his pay was raised. He began to receive commissions to make furniture for the wealthy families of the area. Although there was a slump and very little work, these families had more money to spend than ever, and he often praised his good fortune in having a skill he could sell at such a time. With time he became well-known. His furniture appeared at auctions and fetched high prices among the rich. But he never became wealthy himself. The market was very small. Most people could not afford such luxury, and he made only small profits on what he could sell. The wealthy knew his situation and often wrangled with him over his price. Sometimes he even had to sell at a loss.

In 1953 he gave up and went back into paid employment as a joiner. He was obliged to use pine and cedar, and thin veneer, and to work to deadlines. The furniture he made was mediocre. He did not bother to initial it. The owners of the firm came round for inspections. They knew nothing about wood. They asked instead how long he was taking, how much material he wasted, how many he could produce in a week. Karel worked on. disheartened.

He calculated that he earned approximately fifteen per cent of the final price of each table, and twelve per cent of each chair that he made. He did not have the energy or the heart to make things at home, and so when it became necessary to have a table of his own, to replace one which was worm-rotted, he was obliged to save for five weeks in order to buy one of those which he made at work in four hours. The humour of this did not escape him. One day, after work, he passed in front of an antiques shop and saw one of his own chairs for sale. It was one he had made at the request of a writer in 1938. He remembered it. The writer had asked grandly for a work of art. Karel had taken six weeks over it, and then the writer had been furious at the expense, demanding a lower price or no sale. In the end Karel had sold it for cost. Yet it was a magnificent piece for all that. It was priced at seventy pounds. Karel stared at it for a long time. Then he went into the shop and gave the owner a deposit of thirty shillings. Every month he returned with another thirty shillings. It took him four years to pay. In those four years something went out of him. He never made anything of his own again.

When he came to retire the firm were very nice to him and the manager made a little speech. All the employees had an extended tea-break and he was presented with a carriage clock and a solid silver wine goblet. They shook his hand and wished him luck and hoped he would not forget them and would come back for visits. He said he would like that. Then he was on the street and alone. He clutched the goblet and the clock tightly all the way home, and then he locked the front door and drew the curtains and sat in his armchair and wept quietly.

The chair creaked a little under him. He woke up. The fire was nearly out. The children had not come. He stared into the darkness. He sighed and stood up wearily, his hand went up to stroke the wooden figures on the mantelpiece. Pain seized him momentarily, in the silence he could almost hear their shouts and laughter. The children understood. They knew what things were made for. He breathed hard. There was life in the crude cut of their figures, life and vitality and perhaps even joy. And there was a kind of beauty and truth in the creation of things for their own sake, to be used and loved and perhaps abused but still loved. Karel's chair had been sold for the last time. It should not have been made for sale, but for love. And it was. His heart jumped. He went to the light and switched it on. He was dazzled. He caught at his breath. The first thing he saw was the table he had made and bought from work.

He stared at it, a sense of distaste growing inside him. It did not belong here, in the same room with the armchair and the animals. His chest felt constricted. Pain stabbed at him. It did not belong here! He went over to it, grasped the edge in both hands, and began to lift it up. The table weighed very little. He dragged it to the doorway and manoeuvred it through. His breath came in short gasps. He wanted to sit down. The table stuck fast in the doorway. His strength seemed to ebb away. He realised that something was happening to him. He became frightened. His chest tightened as if in a vice. He could not move the table. He walked unsteadily through the other door into the workroom and found a small hatchet. His legs shook. There was a ringing sound in his ears. He stumbled over to the table, swung the hatchet down. The shock ran up his arm and made him gasp as the wood splintered and flew. He struck again, and then again. His eyes clouded over. He could not breathe. He dropped the hatchet and staggered over to the armchair. He fell sprawling into it. The blood pounded in his temple and behind his eyes. He did not have the breath to cry out. His hands went down to the arms of the chair, gripped them hard. His back arched in pain and then his body doubled over, fingers searching in the carvings and grooves of the chair-arms, groping in panic for help. Hideous laughter seemed to burst all around him. Toneless music deafened him. The room turned grey and dull. He tried to look round at his animals, at his chair. They had become empty and lifeless. All the colour had fled. He could scarcely see them. There was nothing left. His mind began to race. He knew what he had done, what they had all done. There was no escaping it. Only the children understood. But money would teach them not to understand. It would make them forget. It would stop them listening. It would stop them looking. It would stop them loving anything for its own sake because it had the power to beat them and trample them and starve them until they they learned to care more for cost than for life itself. And he had not understood that. He was like the children. Only the grown-ups understand the world they have made. He did not fit. His chair did not fit. That was the real truth.

The room seemed to tilt away from him. His hands froze on the edges of the chair. His head rushed as though in a strong wind. He knew that his heart had stopped. His face was a white mask, but somewhere in his whirling brain a smile flashed momentarily. He did not belong. His animals and his armchair and his love, they did not belong. It was all alright now.

Paddy Shannon

Obituary: Bill Kerr (1994)

Obituary from the April 1994 issue of the Socialist Standard

We have to report the death of Bill Kerr at the age of 85. Bill joined the West Ham Branch in January 1941, and immediately busied himself attending lectures and after a few weeks joined a Speakers class. Opportunities for speaking outdoors at that time were somewhat limited owing to war-time conditions, although he did manage to get the opportunity to open up on a few occasions at Hyde Park.

However he and his brother George felt the need for propaganda in their own area. The Branch members agreed to give it a try and they opened up at an old venue, the ’Cock Hotel" which was just off High Street North. East Ham. The meetings at the “Cock" were an immediate success and this inspired us to extend further and we settled finally for Station Road. Ilford.

These venues were run very successfully in both attendances and literature sales. However all this came to an end towards the end of the 1950s. Outdoor meetings became impossible except in places like Hyde Park owing to the tremendous growth of motor traffic.

In that period of time from early 1940s to 1955/6 the branch membership had increased from about 30 members to about 70. Bill was elected onto the EC about this time and sat for three years or so.

In the 1950 General Election, the Party fought the East Ham South constituency. It was an excellent effort by the Party with much help from outside. Bill gave all he had in speaking and canvassing most evenings during the preceding weeks.

Bill had the misfortune to severely injure himself when he was blown off the platform at Hyde Park in a gale-force wind and fractured his skull. However he recovered in about a month although his hearing was permanently impaired.

After undergoing major surgery for lung cancer in 1958. Bill transferred his membership to Central Branch. He gave an occasional lecture around the London Branches. From the mid-1970s, apart front an occasional visit to a branch, he was not in evidence, although he kept a keen interest in the Party to the end.

Obituary: William Isherwood (1994)

Obituary from the April 1994 issue of the Socialist Standard

We arc saddened to have to report the death of our Comrade William Isherwood at the age of 90 in the Isle of Man.

Bill Isherwood first came into contact with the Party in Manchester in 1928, joining the local branch there in 1933. He worked as a commercial traveller and the poverty he saw made a great impression on him and turned him into a lifelong socialist. On retirement he went to live on the Isle of Man, where he continued to put the Socialist case, particularly in the local press.

Leading up the wrong path (1995)

Book Review from the April 1995 issue of the Socialist Standard

Radical Theories: Paths Beyond Marxism and Social Democracy by Darrow Schecter. (Manchester University Press, 1994.)

Exactly why we should want to follow a path “beyond Marxism” is not altogether clear from this book, and it is to be suspected that the title is the publisher’s and not the author’s. In it, Marxism is often equated with the "state socialism" of the former USSR and its satellites, but here and there are intriguing signs that Schecter thinks there is more to it than this. Unfortunately, he doesn't proceed too far beyond the signposts.

Schecter writes at one point that the “verdict on Social Democracy is still open”, following up this remark with the comment that “it remains to be seen whether Keynesian techniques will continue to be effective in terms of minimising unemployment and ensuring economic growth". We would have thought that by now the inefficacy of Keynesian techniques had been demonstrated beyond any shadow of doubt.

Schecter argues that, with the collapse of what he misleadingly insists on calling "state socialism", the task of socialists today is "to define the contours of a non-authoritarian socialist alternative to capitalism”. In approaching this task, Schecter examines six different strands of anti-authoritarian thinking: anarchism, such as that propounded by Proudhon and Kropotkin; syndicalism, especially that associated with Georges Sorel (who paradoxically also did much to influence Italian fascism); council communism, principally the ideas of Pannekoek; G.D.H. Cole's guild socialism; market socialism together with the co-operative and self-management movements; and finally green socialism. Schecter concludes that all these strands of thinking have their strengths and weaknesses, though it is clear that his preference is for a form of "Communitarian Anarchism" as the others suffer from problems as to how to regulate and organise production in a non-authoritarian manner.

Given his preference for non-market and decentralised systems of democracy and planning, it is curious that Schecter should have restricted himself to analysis of these six particular theories. Conspicuous by their absence are socialist industrial unionism and another branch of what is sometimes called "impossibilism” - the type of politics advanced by the Socialist Party of Great Britain. Schecter's book cries out for an analysis of the non-market socialism promoted by so-called “impossibilist” groups together with the rigorous approach to definition and argumentation which this political sector brings.

That his book ignores the contributions to the development of political thought on democratic organisation and socialist production by the Socialist Party's political sector, with its conceptions of non-authoritarian socialist democracy and planning, is not just our loss - Schecter's book is all the poorer without it.

Dave Perrin

Er . . . come again Jessica (1996)

Book Review from the April 1996 issue of the Socialist Standard

Soundings: A journal of politics and culture. Issue I. Autumn 1995, Lawrence & Wishart.

One can imagine the discussion in the editorial office of Lawrence and Wishart, the old Communist Party publishing house. "What we need is a brand new journal that will really put the old left-wing ideas back on the map." says Jessica to Justin. "That’s right." he enthuses, "a real journal of ideas—like Marxism Today used to be, only this time we won’t turn out so respectable that we become Tories and end up writing for the Sunday Times." Jessica dribbles with delight. "So, we'll get Stuart Hall to write a thirteen-page editorial about nothing in particular, which will show that we’re not Leninists like we used to be. but we’re still full of the old reformist tripe.’’ Stuart Hall’s editorial is undoubtedly a masterpiece in saying nothing eloquently, a must for all English as a Foreign Language students. "Then we'll get Barbara Castle to write a twelve-page article on the lessons which the Blair government must learn. Of course, she’ll support Blair, but she'll offer some penetrating warnings about moving too far to the right." Yawn! "Then Beatrix Campbell, the leading theorist of femino-Leninist-Channel-Fourism, will write an eighteen-page critique of communitarianism." They speak of little else in Hackney. “And that much-loved leftist interpreter of international affairs will write a twelve-page article on .. ." Pass the smelling salts; by now anyone with the slightest interest in original thought will be passing out. “Oh, and just to keep the kids happy, we'll have this utterly incomprehensible eighteen-page whopper on "Music in Post-modern East End"— just to show the yoof and the sociology lecturers that we’re still in touch with the cutting edge of ideas." And then—wait for it—they have the bloody nerve to charge £10.99 for the launch issue. They’ll be queuing up to buy this one at the local dole offices—we think not. What will be a safer bet Prescott for a future seat in the House of Lords or Soundings to go out of existence before the year 2000? If there’s any justice in the publishing world issue two of this dull, confused, confusing and pretentious journal should never see the light of day. It is sad proof that old CPers refuse to publish a short, dignified classified ad in the Guardian saying "We were wrong", but insist on their right to continue inventing new and more long-winded ways of offering the world their wrong ideas. Like the rather more accessible, but almost equally boring magazine, Red Pepper, this reviewer’s advice is that rather than buy a copy you might as well give the money to a beggar in the street— you’ll certainly be doing as much to change the world.

Steve Coleman

Contemporary European Paradox (1996)

Book Review from the April 1996 issue of the Socialist Standard

Yugoslavia Dismembered by Catherine Samary, translated from French by Peter Drucker (Monthly Review Press, New York. I99S. £11.95.)

If you are one of the countless people who are baffled by the events in what used to be called Yugoslavia this book is the simplest and most readable account published so far. It is packed with very useful chronological tables and easy to comprehend statistical information. It is analytically rooted in a Marxist approach, although this must be distinguished from dogmatic economic determinism which is not present.

Samary successfully connects this war with the contemporary European paradox of an economic supra-nationalism combined with re-emerging ideological nationalisms. The case for the extreme fragility of what is over-optimistically called European unity, and the possibility of regarding the Yugoslav war as a precursor of national rivalries yet to break out in Europe is well argued. The author could be accused of having too rosy a retrospective view of the successes of Titoist federalism, but she makes well the point that national cultures cannot be created in test tubes, even though many of the allegedly deep roots of distinct Serbian and Croatian national cultures were largely the monstrous inventions of dangerous Frankenstein-like intellectuals. As a study of the problem this book is good; as for the root of the problem and the solution to it, readers will be better looking at this journal’s coverage of the subject.

Steve Coleman

Worldwide is the only way (1999)

Editorial from the April 1999 issue of the Socialist Standard

Tommy Sheridan surely put his finger on it when he said, in a letter to the Glasgow Herald (10 February), that the "the problem is that wealth is owned and controlled by a tiny minority of society in an undemocratic and unaccountable fashion".

This obscene concentration of wealth in a few hands lies at the heart of all major social problems which confront us today. Far from being irrelevant, as some argue, the property question is the most important social question of the modern age. It cries out for a solution.

What, then, is Sheridan's solution? By his own account, it is "the collective ownership and democratic control of the means of production throughout Scotland".

This won't work. Scotland is only a small part of an economic system which embraces the whole world. It could never enjoy any real autonomy or self-sufficiency in the face of the world market. From day one it will be buffeted by hostile economic forces entirely beyond its control.

In no time at all, Scotland will be faced with two choices—either total ruin, or the complete restoration of capitalist economics. Councillor Sheridan's "independent socialist Scotland" would be neither independent nor socialist.

We completely share Tommy Sheridan's disgust at what capitalism does to people. We can readily understand his impatience for an end to poverty in all its hideous guises. But we think he has allowed his impatience to get the better of him, to lead him down short-cuts that go nowhere.

There is no sense in dodging the issue. Since the property problem is in its essence worldwide, the solution to that problem must also be worldwide. That is why the Socialist Party insists that the socialist transformation of society must be carried out on a worldwide basis. Quite simply, nothing less will do.

"Socialism in one country" is an illusion. That is the lesson of history. If the Soviets could not manage it, we fail to see how the Scots could.

Life of Marx (2000)

Book Review from the April 2000 issue of the Socialist Standard

Karl Marx by Francis Wheen. Fourth Estate, London.

Journalist Wheen has performed a staggering feat. In just over 400 pages, he has traced the action-packed life of Karl Marx from childhood in Triers in the Moselle valley to university life in Bonn and Berlin and political exile in France, Belgium and finally London.

In the hands of Wheen the story is one of almost cinematic action. The heady student days of feverish philosophical debate fuelled by too much wine and beer are vividly portrayed. His foray into political journalism, his jousts with state censors and his eventual political banishment, leading to the life of a stateless person trekking through the capitals of Europe in poverty and constant harassment by state authorities and police spies are dealt with in a lively and readable fashion.

The real strength of this book, however, does not rest on the colourful biographical detail, but on its depiction of Marx as a human being, rather than (as has been too often the case in the past) as a god or a devil. Interestingly enough Wheen mentions in his introduction a book, written by an American evangelical preacher, entitled "Was Karl Marx a Satanist?" The other side of the coin, of course, are the books that are nothing less than hagiographies. As the jacket cover says, "Karl Marx emerges as a flamboyantly unmistakable individual, not the stony head of a monolithic, faceless organisation."

Socialists might have wished for more emphasis on Marx's ideas, but when Wheen does this he does an excellent job. Considering that his intention was to deal with Marx more as an individual rather than as an economist, historian, philosopher or revolutionary, the author's discussion of the works of Marx is generally speaking difficult to quarrel with and easy to admire. He distances the writings and actions of Marx from his so-called supporters like Lenin, Stalin and Mao. He has a pop at Karl Popper's criticism and absolutely devastates the attacks on Marx by the likes of Paul Samuelson. The role of Marx in the International Working Men's Association is particularly well documented and his jousts with Michael Bakunin and the anarchists are vividly drawn.

A lot of people are going to hate this book. Left-wingers who see every industrial dispute or petty social unrest as the harbinger of a transformation of society will be reminded (if they ever knew) that Marx's view was that a long period of education and organisation was necessary before the working class could establish socialism. Anarchists with their 19th-century romanticism about conspiracy and direct action will be less than pleased at the reporting of the antics of their anarchist heroes in the International. The academics who have dismissed Marx's views as outdated are not going to like Wheen's view that Marx's criticisms of capitalism are still valid today.

Even if a lot of people are going to hate this book, this socialist loved it and advises readers to get down to their local library immediately. If you are going to buy only one book this year, then this is it.

Richard Donnelly

Another world is possible (2002)

From the April 2002 issue of the Socialist Standard

Last year the New Internationalist asked its readers for “their own vision of a better world”. Under the titles of “Give Us Your Dreams” and “Another World Is Possible” shortened versions of twelve of the replies were published in the January-February issue of the magazine which supports the broad “anti-globalisation/anti-capitalist” movement. Three of these came from members of the World Socialist Movement.

Since the proportion of socialists amongst the “anti-capitalists” is nowhere near 25 percent (if only it were) this can be interpreted as a sign of a lack of vision, or interest in “grand schemes” for a better world, amongst those who are involved in the movement. They have yet to take on board our view that it is not enough just to be “anti”, but that to get anywhere you have to have a clear idea of where you want to go.

Having said this, two of the other replies chosen for publication also envisaged a world without money. One, from Minneapolis in the US, wrote: “I can imagine a global community with no private property beyond immediate possessions, no need for money, no racism or sexism, no enslavement of children, no profit motive to drive the oppression of working people, no battles over personal interpretations of spirituality, and no disrespect for the 'other'“. The other, from Canada, envisaged “a society where the concept of exchange is non-existent” but then went on to propose a system of consumer vouchers which would be issued to everybody in equal amounts and be cancelled on use.

Reformist

Of the other seven, one represented the reformist wing of the movement and proposed a list of “reforms that would be necessary as preliminary measures before more radical programs could be considered”. These included renegotiating trade agreements, a Tobin tax, changing company law, tax incentives to encourage co-operatives, ending nuclear power, etc, etc, etc.

This is the approach of the campaigning charities and non-governmental organisations such as OXFAM, Christian Aid and the others who are the most vocal section of the “anti-globalisation” movement, probably reflecting the views of most of those active in it. Not only does such a reformist approach lead to compromise with capitalism but the reforms proposed are piddling compared with what is needed to end world poverty, protect the biosphere and stop the waste of armaments. That it leads to compromise with capitalism can be seen by the number of activists who have switched sides and gone to work for government bodies and private corporations, believing that you can do more to get piddling mini-reforms from within the system than by pressure group politics from outside. No doubt such individuals are for the most part entirely sincere since they never really did think that there is any practical alternative to the profit-motivated market system. The history of Green Parties everywhere is another illustration of this point, where they have either joined capitalist governments or would if they got the chance.

As to the effectiveness of the reforms proposed, does anyone really think that tax reforms and legislative charges are going to be enough to bring about the massive increase in the production of food and other basic goods and services needed if there are not going to be more people, in absolute numbers, living without basic amenities in 2030 than there are today? Clearly “radical programs” not “preliminary measures” need to be considered right now, today. That makes trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon – or even a tablespoon – a waste of valuable time.

Pathetic

The other replies were, frankly, pathetic, indeed disheartening because they suggest that more people in the anti-globalisation movement entertain these kinds of views than envisage a global change in society, even by reformist means. Three advocated a return to the “simple life”. One looked forward to oil running out forcing people to “return to the land, working side by side with nature, in blissful harmony”. Another urged people to “buy locally and buy certified organic” and to “grow some of your own food” (why not, but as a solution to world problems?). A third wanted a “culture based on cottage industry and gardening”.

But the worst, and most disturbing, came from people expressing religious views. One claimed that “over history our collective subconscious has invented a basic code for humanity to live by, in the form of religion” and that this meant that humans had a “predisposition to co-operation, love, non-violence and selflessness”. This could be seen as harmless mysticism – there is no “collective subconscious”, how could there be, given what we know about biology and inheritance? – but at least this person's heart was in the right place. The same, however, cannot be said of the other two.

One put the more traditional religious view (which explains why these people put our backs up so much) that “no human system, no matter how carefully and idealistically crafted, will create a better world. All in the end are corrupted by self-interest or greed. Eliminating poverty is impossible . . . Only one thing works – the inner change for the better in individuals who have had some kind of illumination from a supernatural entity”. This view was echoed by the other, who wrote that “the ideal world, as it stands in our current understanding of the term, is simply unreachable” and proposed that “the alternative state of global perfection, and an eminently achievable one, consists of not having everything we want, but being totally satisfied with everything we have”.

Clearly, such views are quite incompatible with those of socialists – and not just of socialists but of reformists too. In fact the New Internationalist itself must have been disappointed to have had such replies, presumably more than the two they published. “Eliminating poverty is impossible” and “be totally satisfied with what you have” are what the rich, through the religious ideology that reflected their interests, have always told the poor throughout the ages. We have no choice but to be implacably opposed to such views and to combat them whenever we hear them.

No, eliminating poverty is not impossible and, no, the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night or who lack clean running water or who have no health care or education should not be happy with what they have (not) got. They should be bloody annoyed and upset about it and get together with the rest of us to work for a better world, here and now, down here.

Practical

Not that it is a question anyway of dreaming up a “perfect” or an “ideal” world. What is at issue is establishing a better world, where those problems that people face because of the way society is currently organised can be tackled with some hope of success. The starting point for this is not some idea of a perfect society but the world as it is today. It is rather a question of finding a practical solution to actually existing problems that have arisen at this particular moment in the history of humanity.

Over the past hundred or so years the world has developed the capacity to adequately feed, clothe and shelter every single man, woman and child on the planet. The resources, the technical knowledge and the skilled personnel exist to do this – the information on what to do is lying gathering dust in the archives of the Food and Agriculture Organisation in Rome and the World Health Organisation in Geneva – but it is not done because the world is currently organised on the basis of the minority class ownership of productive resources and the production of wealth with a view to profit.

It is this profit system that stands in the way of satisfying human needs. It only allows production to take place in response to needs that can be paid for and then only if a big enough profit can be made from doing so. It diverts resources into maintaining a whole superstructure of finance and commerce – banks, insurance, accounting, advertising, etc – that is only needed because there is production for the market. And it diverts yet more resources into armed forces and their weapons which every state is compelled to have in view of the competitive struggle for profits – which as a last resort involves war – that is built-in to the system.

Once this artificial scarcity and this built-in waste is eliminated, as it would be in a world where the Earth's resources had ceased to be the private property of states, national and multinational corporations and rich individuals, then these resources could be directed to turning out wealth to meet human needs. It may take some time to completely clear up the mess left by the capitalist profit system, but people dying of hunger could be stopped immediately. So could all problems arising from money worries.

This is the practical solution to the practical problems facing humanity at this particular stage of its historical development. Unless this basic change from class ownership to common ownership, permitting the change from production for profit to production to satisfy human needs, is made, then unnecessary human suffering and a generally unsatisfactory life for everybody except a privileged few will continue.

Yes, another world is possible, but it doesn't involve going back to basic agriculture, even less embracing pessimistic and do-nothing mysticism, but accepting that we already live in one world and going on from there. The solution is global in both senses of the word. Global in that it has to be world-wide, and global in the sense that the change-over has to be all-embracing and not piecemeal reform.

Adam Buick

Depths of alienation (2003)

Book Review from the April 2003 issue of the Socialist Standard

The Culture of Make-Believe. Derrick Jensen, New York, Context Books, 2002

The Future of Success. Robert B. Reich, New York, Knopf, 2001

The stream of books coming out of America on the Holy Global Empire of capitalism continues unabated. The tale is of two classes: arrogant winners and collateral losers, private wealth and public poverty, triumphalist insecurity for the elite and traumatic insecurity for the mass. The system is enthusiastically praised, superficially criticised, but never seriously opposed. There Is No Alternative - or, if you prefer the sporting metaphor, capitalism is the only game in town.

With Derrick Jensen's 700-page blockbuster you get more or less what it says in the blurb: “the atrocities that characterise so much of our culture - from . . .  modern slavery and corporate misdeeds to manufacturing disasters, death squads in developing nations and the destruction of the natural world”. The text is discursive, even gabby. There is no index, which suggests that the author wants you to read it as a novel for entertainment, not a polemic for study.

To give Jensen his due, he's good on slavery:

“. . . the power relationship between slaveholders and slaves can be broken into three components. The first is social, and involves the use or threat of violence by the slaveholder to control the slave. The second is psychological, and has to do with convincing the slaves to perceive their slavery as actually being in their own best interests. The third is cultural, and has to do with transforming force into a right of the powerful and obedience into a duty of the powerless. . .”

He can't bring himself to explicitly oppose wage slavery and the capitalist system of which it is an integral part. Instead he seeks to shock us with the revelation that his solution is to get rid of civilisation. On the last page we get a sanitised biblical story: the appropriately-named Ham, rather than being condemned to perpetual enslavement, feels a happy, fecund sense of freedom.

As an economist, Robert Reich is more upfront about capitalism, which he takes for better and for worse. The good news is for consumers, who can "shift allegiance with the click of a mouse" because they live in "the age of the terrific deal". But the bad news is about quality of non-consuming life: more frenzy, less security, loss of time and energy for friendship, community and self.

Reading through Reich's prose, with its chapter heads like “Of geeks and shrinks” and “The sale of the self”, gives the impression that the author is writing about and for people very much like himself. Of the 6 billion people in the world only perhaps a billion or so have regular employment, and by no means all of those worry about their CV and how they present themselves at interview. Yet Reich asserts that:

“In the new economy, you get ahead not by being well liked but being well marketed… Talented people are even selling shares in themselves… Once, the worst thing that could be said of someone was that he had sold out. Now the worst thing that can be said is that he's not selling”.

By this reckoning, capitalism has plunged depths of alienation that Marx could only have had nightmares about.

Stan Parker

Cooking the Books: What classless society? (2005)

The Cooking the Books column from the April 2005 issue of the Socialist Standard

At one time, a long time ago now, when the Labour Party still retained some sort of vague commitment to being opposed to the workings of capitalism it used to say that it favoured the redistribution of wealth from the rich to the poor. They were going (they said) to establish a more equal society by taxing the rich and using the money to provide better public services for the rest of us.

Actually, in the last century there was a long-term trend towards a less uneven distribution  of wealth ownership. But this did not result from any deliberate policy on the part of governments (the wealthy soon found ways of minimising or avoiding taxes on their existing wealth and on their accumulation of more wealth), but rather from a majority of people coming to own more consumer goods, etc. resulting in the total amount of wealth owned by the non-rich sections of society rising faster than the total amount owned by the wealthy.

The rich still got richer – and, in absolute terms, each one of them got more than each of the rest of us – but, proportionately, together they got less than the rest of us as a group. There was no redistribution from them to us; which would have gone against the logic of capitalism involving as it does the accumulation of more and more capital in the hands of a capitalist class.

In the 1990s this long-term trend (which continued even under Thatcher) was reversed. Since 1991 the rich have been getting richer faster than the rest of us – despite a Labour government. In December the Office for National Statistics published the figures for the latest available year, 2002. Two sets of figures are published, one for all marketable wealth and the other for ““marketable wealth less value of dwellings”. Since capitalism is based on the concentration of the ownership of the means of wealth-production  in the hands of a tiny minority, and since houses are not means of production, it is the second set of figures that are the more relevant (even if they still include other items of wealth such as cars and hi-fi equipment that are also not means of production),

These figures (published on the ONS website at  http://www.statistics.gov.uk/cci/nugget_print.asp?ID=2  show how things have changed since 1996, as the situation inherited by the present Labour government when it came into office:

                                     1996  1999 2000 2001 2002

Top 1% owned               26      34     33     34     35

Top 5%                           49      59     59     58     62

Bottom 95%                    51      41     41     42     38

Bottom 50%                      6       3        2       2       2

As can be seen, whereas in 1996 the top 5 percent owned as much as the bottom 95 per cent - or one out of every 19 persons owned as much as the other 19 (of whom half owned virtually nothing) taken together - by 2002 the top 5 percent owned nearly 40 percent than the rest of us.

Who says that we’re living in a classless society? Who says that the capitalist class have died out? Who says that the Labour Party can deliver a more equal society or is even trying to?

History as propaganda (2007)

From the April 2007 issue of the Socialist Standard

There’s probably more history published today than ever before. As with every genre sold as a commodity most of it is of little value

At its very best history is one of the most important of all disciplines. It seeks to present a narrative explaining not just who we are and how we got here but also why we use these very concepts to understand ourselves. A chronicle of events is of little interest without interpretation; and it is through this that an analysis has any chance of achieving significance.

The interpretation of motivation is seen as important in understanding events but their significance can only be calculated by the effect on later generations. Often the motivation for action is given to be this or that hoped-for effect on later generations. This was part of the stated aim of many historical figures including Caesar, Napoleon and Hitler. It is doubtful whether they were successful in achieving such aims but what cannot be doubted is the need of the support of thousands, sometimes millions, of others to even make the attempt. It is in this support that the real social power resides.

Hitler’s rise was no less dependent on the Treaty of Versailles and the Wall Street Crash than on any characteristics he may or may not have possessed. The ideological values, which evolved within the German state and made millions believe they needed ‘a strong leader’, should be the focus of any historical analysis of the Third Reich. The origin of social power and its relationship with, and expression by, individuals, groups and the masses is the real business of historians.

The conventional definition of history (as distinct from prehistory) is the study of the written record from and about the past. It is no coincidence that this record begins during the so-called ‘Neolithic revolution’ when humans were making the transition from a hunter-gatherer society to that of the private property city-state. Such settlements were made possible by the discovery of sustainable crop growing and animal husbandry. This not only brought an end to the nomadic lifestyle but also dramatically changed the social relationships that went with it.

The production of surplus food changed the basis of power within society forever. It meant, amongst many other changes, that some parts of society were freed from subsistence living to pursue other activities. Foremost amongst these was the development of a warrior elite to protect this surplus from raiding nomads. It was not long before they restricted access to other members of their own settlement.

Those who created the wealth were only granted access to the surplus if they produced more of it. In this way social elites evolved, their power derived from the ownership of the wealth created by others. To this day social power derives from a group or class’s relationship with the means of production and the surplus it produces. Many historians would object to this characterisation of social power and would point to theories of morality, justice and reason as explanations of capitalist ‘civilisation’. Such theories ignore the possibility that the origin of these concepts derive from ‘rationalisations’ of social relationships which seek to justify their existence without reference to their historical source.

Of course the examination of the ‘mode of production’ as a way of understanding historical development is identified with Marxism. To attempt to dismiss it as mere political propaganda is to ignore the ideological content within any historical perspective. Although Marxist historians can with some justification claim that at least their bias is conscious, does this mean that all history is propaganda (conscious or not)? To answer this let’s examine those who create history  –historians.

Blinkered

Most of us do not have the time or resources to become historians. The intellectual division of labour within our culture means that most of them are created by and financially dependent on universities.

Living in Cambridge I have encountered many through the years. They are immersed in a life of study and intellectual rigour with usually only their peers to provide debate and criticism. Specialisation (knowing more about less and less) gives them the right of interpretation.

A memorable conversation with a noted scholar on the Crusades provides a sense of this. When asked about the motivation of the leaders of the first crusade he replied he believed it was an attempt at redemption. Europe’s knights hoped that their God would forgive their violent life style if they ‘liberated’ the holy land. This was so reminiscent of many historians who believed that Lenin, Mao and Castro were socialists because they proclaimed themselves to be so.

The sincere motivation of an individual does not give us any understanding of the origin of the concepts involved or their acceptance by those who are led into any action. The English revolution was not dependent on Cromwell’s belief in an obscure Jewish prophet who lived some 1600 years before. Likewise the English reformation was not caused by Henry VIII’s lust for a young Anne Boleyn. Napoleon was quite possibly not the inheritor of ‘the age of reason’ he supposed himself to be.

The distinction between any proclaimed ideology and the actions of those who profess it seem lost on many historians. Perhaps it is because they themselves are immersed within a deeply ideological culture – from public school to university the cult of individualism is universal. How could it be otherwise within one of capitalism’s oldest establishments?

The elitist ethos is the cornerstone of any authoritarian social structure like ours. I use this to illustrate how ideology permeates historical interpretation. As stated earlier, Marxists do the same in a more conscious manner. But can we ‘prove’ that some historical interpretations are of more value or even of more significance than others?

Why are socialists disgusted but not surprised by the activities of Bush and Blair any more than we were by the crimes of the Bolsheviks and their fascistic ‘Soviet Union’? Because an analysis of history based on an understanding of the relationship between the mode of production and the values and concepts that it creates can only come to one conclusion: people make history but only within the constraints of their historical context. Blair may proclaim himself to be ‘New Labour’ but what is new about worship at the altar of the ‘free market’ to answer all of capitalism’s problems? Can a moral crusade against one’s enemies that means the murder of thousands of innocent people be considered ‘new’?

Neo-conservatives use the same failed ideological excuses as their 18th century counterparts to maintain their wealth and status. Despite all of the socialist rhetoric the Bolsheviks and their subsequent purges and militarism was symptomatic of all regimes that orchestrate the transition between agrarian feudalism and industrial capitalism. China’s ‘cultural revolution’ had infinitely more in common with the ‘terror’ of the French revolution than it did with the Paris commune.

We know this to be so because of the lack of a majority to oppose such actions of the elite (and indeed to be complicit to make them possible). Today it is still this lack of historical knowledge that makes it possible for our rulers to continually repackage their reactionary ideology using the media and helped in no small measure by historians.

Fukuyama, Starkey, Sharma and countless others have and continue to propagate capitalist ideology through their history. Good history is an ideological battleground. Two people present at the same event can give opposing interpretations of its meaning and significance. Most of us were not present and are not historians but we have a political duty to decide which perspective is more likely in the light of our own experiences. Our future depends on the understanding of our past.

Wez.

Capitalist childhood (2009)

Book Review from the April 2009 issue of the Socialist Standard

A Good Childhood: Searching for values in a competitive age. Richard Lazard and Judy Dunn. Penguin, £9.99. 2009.

Some of us have a good childhood; others don’t. Of course it all depends on what you mean by a good childhood. Is it to own a lot of things – or to be happy? Is it more important to have a good relationship with others – or with yourself?

This book is based on the report of an 18-month survey sponsored by the Children’s Society, and is written by an economist and a psychologist. It deals with a wide range of issues connected with childhood: family, friends, lifestyle, values, schooling, mental health and inequalities. Its centre-left viewpoint is well illustrated by the remark “With immense courage the Labour government committed itself in 1999 to abolishing child poverty by 2020 . . . ”

The authors are critical of excessive individualism, by which they mean “the belief that the prime duty of the individual is to make the most of her life, rather than contribute to the good of others”. They reject some features of the face of childhood in present society, but they want to scrub that face clean rather than remodel it. Thus the media “should be embarrassed at the amount of physical violence which they put out and advertisers should be embarrassed at their encouragement of premature sexualization, heavy drinking and over-eating”. No question of the media and advertisers stopping their malign and profit-seeking influence on youngsters—just suggest that they should feel embarrassed at what they do.

The authors are far from holding the view that there is no such thing as society. Indeed they write of moral education that “it needs to offer a vision of a good person and a good society”. But most of the solutions they propose to childhood problems are at the level of individual behaviour rather than societal change: “If we want to improve our quality of life, we must above all produce better people.”

Archbishop Rowan Williams, patron of the Inquiry Panel, contributes an elegantly waffly 12-page afterword in which he claims that “the report ask far more from churches and religious communities – as it does from all kinds of bodies in our society”. The text does in places have a vicarish tone (“Children are a sacred bush”). But the nearest the report gets to churchy religion is to refer to spirituality as “an uplifting experience”.

Stan Parker

Obituary: Vic Brain (2010)

Obituary from the April 2010 issue of the Socialist Standard

Vic Brain has died at the age of 95. He had been a member of the Socialist Party for nearly 60 years, having joined Swansea Group in 1952. In the following year he helped form a fully-fledged Swansea branch, of which he remained a member until his death in December 2009.

Vic had been a member of the Communist Party in the early years of the Cold War period but always said that he had never found it comfortable doing what CP members had to do – support Stalin and the Soviet Union. So when he came into contact with the SPGB, he quickly realised that the CP’s version of ‘socialism’ was effectively a form of capitalism – state capitalism – and that far more congenial to his optimistic hopes for the future of humanity was the classless, stateless, moneyless society of free access advocated by the Socialist Party but never mentioned in the CP.

From then on he never looked back. Over the next 30 years he was an active member of Swansea Branch, involving himself enthusiastically in local activity, fearlessly stating the socialist case wherever he went, writing articles for the Socialist Standard, and giving ebullient talks on subjects that especially interested him such as art and socialism, Welsh nationalism, and the nature of the Labour Party.

With very little formal education, Vic had trained later in life to become an art teacher and was a keen painter who would offer his excellent water colours as presents to branch members. He was a keen rambler and cyclist and, even in later life, thought nothing of cycling the 25 miles from Llanelli to Swansea and back to visit other members. As a first language Welsh speaker, he was also a keen enthusiast of the language but, rather than take the narrow view of minority language survival taken by nationalists, Vic’s take was that it was good for such languages to survive because of the cultural diversity they expressed. Such diversity – and this was a view that he was particularly keen to express to fellow socialists – was being eaten up by capitalism but, if it managed to survive the ravages of the current system, it would flourish and be a positive feature of a Socialist world.

In his later years, Vic’s activity inevitably diminished but he was always ready to talk to members who visited him about what was happening in the world and – the perennial question – when would we get socialism. He will be remembered with great affection by those who knew him. We offer our condolences to his wife Anne, his son Chris and his daughter Pat.

Howard Moss