Poverty (1943)

From the September 1943 issue of the Socialist Standard

To those of us interested in social progress, the greatest of evils that has confronted and still confronts humanity, is Poverty. Poverty is a cancerous growth that has shattered the lives of workers. Housed in poisonous slums, an exhibition of ugliness and dirt, who can but wonder that workers have their senses dulled, and their creative aspirations crushed out of them. Debased through overwork and periodic unemployment, living in conditions of squalor-breeding disease, and having little time to review the world around them, it is understandable why the working class have not yet found a solution to their poverty.

And what of the respectable poverty of those workers who dwell in sweet suburbia? Those workers who surreptitiously scrimp and save in order to keep up appearances in a life which offers them a monotonous round of “pictures”—Saturday, “Local” or Church on Sunday, and of being “something in the city” during the rest of the week. A demoralising existence, but one of Respectability which must be maintained at all cost, even if it means apeing in manners, speech and dress the parasitic ruling class. Behind this grinning mask of false jovialness is the growing fear of insecurity. Capitalism is casting a dark shadow of doubt in the minds of workers wherever they live.

And you, the workers in khaki, scattered over the face of the globe on your mission of death and destruction—possibly the only time you travel abroad—you will find a colossal contrast between the wealth of the rich and the poverty of the workers, no matter in which country you find yourselves.

Poverty and riches are relative. In China and India the teeming millions of toilers literally have a hand to mouth existence, while the industrialists, mandarins and princes live in luxury, comfort and ease. In the highly developed Capitalist countries, because of the development of machinery and speed of production, the workers produce far more wealth than the Indian peasants and workers, but receive only sufficient on an average to maintain them in efficient working condition. In contrast to this, the capitalists have, in abundance, those things that are denied to the workers. Yet the working class produce everything that is placed on the world market.

Workers, it is no use relying on the capitalist class to solve your problems. If they could abolish poverty, they would lose their privileged position, power and prestige. The Beveridge Plan, the Atlantic Charter, Churchill’s Four-Year Plan, and any other nostrum can all be thrown on the scrap heap. They do not delve into the roots. It is the Socialist, and only the Socialist who has the solution, and it is the working class who have the power to build a world in which life can be a beautiful adventure. A world where slums, starvation, dole—in a word, POVERTY, no longer exists.

How can this social evil which hangs like a spectre over the working class be eradicated ? It is necessary to repeat a truism that few people now deny, but many unfortunately forget. THERE ARE TWO CLASSES IN SOCIETY. The capitalist class who constitute the minority in society,own the factories, mines, workshops, slums, ships, railways, airways, and all the machinery for producing wealth, but who are parasitic because they do not take part in its production. . . . The working class who are forced to sell their energies to the private property owners, because they, the workers, do not own the means and instruments of wealth production, and are propertyless. The working class constitute the vast majority.

THERE IS A CLASH OF INTERESTS within capitalism. On the one hand workers organise on the industrial field in Trade Unions to struggle for better working conditions, and higher wages : while capitalists struggle to force wages down. Conditions are favourable for workers in their struggle when there is little unemployment, as at the present time when conscripts have replaced the queues of job-hunters outside the Labour Exchanges, and unfavourable when there is widespread unemployment.

There is no way out for workers within the framework of capitalism. Struggle as they may to improve their lot, and they do sometimes get a few crumbs, THERE ARE TWO CLASSES IN PRESENT-DAY SOCIETY. Here lies the root of the trouble. When the majority of workers become class-conscious nothing will prevent them from overthrowing and replacing Capitalism by the common ownership and democratic control of the means and instruments of wealth production, which presupposes a moneyless, classless society, in which people will have free access to all the good things that society can produce. This is SOCIALISM.

Is this too much to ask of those who produce but do not possess? Only you can judge. Would that we could circulate our literature over a wider field. Would that our pens could in a few words crystallise to each one of you weary slaves, the message of Socialism. WORKERS AWAKE FROM YOUR SLUMBERS—YOU HAVE A WORLD TO GAIN.

S. W. C.

Poor but respectable (1947)

From the May 1947 issue of the Socialist Standard

For too long the working class have had their strength drained by poverty and economic insecurity. Although harassed and undernourished, they have accepted their condition as being inevitable : content with the reform crumbs that have been grudgingly given after bitter struggles. As yet they know of no alternative.

Their arguments in defence of their position are proverbial, and like schoolchildren chanting the multiplication table, they have repeated the ‘‘catch-phrases” of their masters. “There have always been rich and poor.” “You must have Capital and Labour.” ‘‘Hard work never hurt anyone.” ‘‘The bosses have got the brains.” These phrases have dulled workers' political alertness, because, always hoping to rise in the social sphere by hard work, they eventually discover there is nothing on that road but work and poverty. They do not know the alternative.

Poverty is a social disease which has undermined the health of the working class. The slum dwellers of to-morrow—the suburbanites, think the term poverty refers to the slum dwellers of to-day. They in turn think it refers to beggars and tramps. It is never on their own doorstep. It is always the other person who is poor.

The poverty of sweet suburbia is more respectable than that of the slum areas. They have no bugs. They eat from tablecloths, not newspapers. They have baths, not bowls in which to perform their ablutions. They have a lounge, not a parlour. Their children wear “college” caps and do not “run the streets.” Unmarried expectant mothers have been kicked out of their homes to maintain their family’s respectability. ‘‘ What will the neighbours think?” outweighs consideration for their daughter’s welfare. Respectability knows no bounds.

In sweet suburbia they have a different outlook from the slum dweller. They desire to ‘‘get on” in the world. Being snobs, they try to find out what the other fellow does ‘‘in the city.” It is never called work. They receive a ‘‘salary,” not a wage. They visit the "local” not the "pub.” They wear out their lives trying to keep up appearances, and have been known to go without food in order to do so. Property-conscious, with shoddy clothes and affected speech, they ape their masters in an endeavour to hide their poverty. Their condition is wretched, for they are acting a lie throughout their lives. All have one fear — the fear of losing a job.

Foolish workers! Not only do you produce the wealth which the Capitalist class enjoy, but they control your thinking, and you are content despite your wretchedness, that this should be so. It is true you grumble—that is a safety valve, but animals do not whine and skulk in corners.

One can understand the Capitalist class defending their power, prestige and property. They have got a lot to lose, but you have only your poverty—and how you like it!

You are the toiling millions who produce the wealth of the world, for others to enjoy. As yet, the Capitalist class is not afraid of you, for they have got you where they want you, but when you begin to think in your own interests, they will not be so flagrant. The newspapers will not show a photo of a super ship with its millionaires on board, and on the same page, an offer to the miners of an extra ounce of rationed meat.

Workers, rouse yourselves from your lethargy. Try to understand the world in which you exist. Join with us in working for a society where poverty and degradation will be replaced by comfort and a full life for all.

S. W. C.

The Escape To Freedom (1948)

From the July 1948 issue of the Socialist Standard

The brave new world so glibly promised by politicians when workers were being urged to slaughter each other to maintain the material interests of their respective masters, is one of the many promises that has not materialised. No one with an ounce of realism, can deny that conditions in the world today are bristling with the possibilities of a war, an atomic, germ war, in the none too distant future. So much for the brave new world.

Instead of facing up to this situation in an attempt to find a solution, it is tragic that workers are seeking a temporary escape in the “entertainment” that Capitalism offers as a safety valve. Football, the “dogs” and “pictures,” all provide a temporary escape from, but no solution to, the many problems with which we are beset. Yet the solution is a simple one, and only requires a little serious thought.

The most formidable class in numbers is the working class. Its power lies not alone in numbers but in the knowledge of its members of their class position in society. If a majority of workers accepted this simple fact alone—that Capitalism runs in the interest of those who own and control industry—they would be better able to look after their class interests. Yet most workers think they have an identity of interest with their masters. “You must have Capital and Labour ” say they, while the world is seething with conflict and unrest.

When we talk and write about Socialism, we mean a classless society in which the means of producing food, clothing, houses, and all the amenities of life, shall be owned in common and democratically controlled by the community. There will be an identity of interests, for no one will covet what his neighbour has if there is an abundance to satisfy his needs. This is the foundation which we claim will solve war and the major evils of the world. Socialism is the only sane way. All other methods have been tried and failed. It does not follow that Socialism will succeed because it has never been tried. It requires thought and inquisitiveness on the part of workers, to understand why Socialism will succeed.

With the basis of Socialist society firmly established, it is not difficult to see that mankind will be free to enjoy life to the full. Man will give of his best to society, for he will know that society's resources will be there for the taking. He will produce the best and receive the best. He will be free to develop his natural desires and aptitudes. Production will be a task which men will enjoy, for they will be working in the knowledge that goods are actually being produced for the benefit of the community. Man will be free to enjoy the arts of the world.

No longer will man be assessed by his bank balance or his property, for money would serve no function under Socialism. Today, money in the form of wages keeps workers in subjection, and poverty, for they can only buy back a proportion of the wealth they produce. As all means of production would be owned in common for the benefit of mankind, war will be an impossibility, for a socialist society would not fight for something it already possessed.

Workers, do not attempt to escape from the problems thrown up by Capitalism by ignoring the cold facts of reality. Face up to the situation that Capitalism is now decadent, and that mankind can build a new world in which life will be a beautiful experience. The nightmares of yesterday will then gradually recede in the distance. When Socialism is obtained the Escape to Freedom will be complete.

S.W.C.

Holiday Meditation (1948)

A Short Story from the August 1948 issue of the Socialist Standard

He lay stretched out on the beach, and felt the warm glow of the sun and the faint sea breeze on his skin. To his left he could hear the murmur of conversation, and in the distance the delighted shrieks of children playing on the sand and in the sea. The sea mirrored the cobalt blue sky, and the foam was white where the waves broke. An occasional gull dipped on the waves, and flew off with a morsel of food. He felt that he was beginning to live. He looked searchingly at the scene before him, and sank back, closing his eyes, his thoughts lost in meditation . . . 

People seemed different on holiday: for a week or a fortnight in the year they were carefree. He contrasted in his mind the worn and worried faces that he saw in the tube trains every morning and evening going to and from work. Those dead pans were the same people who on holiday were happy. Of course he was no different. He would have to spend a lifetime at a monotonous job, with an occasional glimpse of what life could be like. Yet no doubt a life of leisure could also be monotonous, but there were such long stretches of work ahead, and at the end of it, what?

Work seemed to crush out any creative inspirations. He smiled grimly as he recalled having escaped to Epping Forest on Saturdays with his brushes and paints in order to attempt to catch on paper the changing shades of the green foliage. Yes, it was an attempt; that is all he could say, but the effort was worth while, because it prevented him from getting into a rut—of becoming a work beast. Of having no interest in life except work.

Why was. it that he hated work? He recalled that when he was young, life seemed like an adventure. Then he was fired with ambition. “Work hard, my boy, and you will reach the top of the tree,” was the advice of his father. Well, he had always worked hard . . .  He had long ago learned that efficiency did not increase his earning capacity. It is true that he had been grudgingly given a rise when he had married, but he still had only enough to eke out week by week, and this applied to the other chaps on the job. Did he hate work because a lifetime was expended doing the same routine, and of being denied the right to enjoy and have the good things of life. Or was it because of the mental conflict of holding a job he disliked, in order that he could exist. He had noticed of late that he had become more irritable. To him his future seemed hopeless. Yet there were thousands in a similar position to him. What did they think and feel? Or had they become part of the machines they tended? This was the machine age and the machines had left their mark. This was the age of despair, and the future seemed grim and dark.

He shuddered slightly. Overhead a seagull circled and dipped and gave its strident call as if to mock him.

S. W. C.