[01] The manner
in which increasing population advances Rent, as explained and
illustrated in current treatises, is that the increased demand
for subsistence forces production to inferior soil or to inferior
productive points. Thus, if, with a given population, the margin
of cultivation is at 30, all lands of productive power over 30
will pay rent. If the population be doubled, an additional supply
is required, which cannot be obtained without an extension of
cultivation that will cause lands to yield rent that before yielded
none. If the extension be to 20, then all the land between 20
and 30 will yield rent and have a value, and all land over 30
will yield increased rent and have increased value.
[02] It is here
that the Malthusian doctrine receives from the current elucidations
of the theory of rent the support of which I spoke when enumerating
the causes that have combined to give that doctrine an almost
undisputed sway in current thought. According to the Malthusian
theory, the pressure of population against subsistence becomes
progressively harder as population increases, and although two
hands come into the world with every new mouth, it becomes, to
use the language of John Stuart Mill, harder and harder for the
new hands to supply the new mouths. According to Ricardo's theory
of rent, rent arises from the difference in productiveness of
the lands in use, and as explained by Ricardo and the economists
who have followed him, the advance in rents which, experience
shows, accompanies increasing population, is caused by the inability
of procuring more food except at a greater cost, which thus forces
the margin of population to lower and lower points of production,
commensurately increasing rent. Thus the two theories, as I have
before explained, are made to harmonize and blend, the law of
rent becoming but a special application of the more general law
propounded by Malthus, and the advance of rents with increasing
population a demonstration of its resistless operation. I refer
to this incidentally, because it now lies in our way to see the
misapprehension which has enlisted the doctrine of rent in the
support of a theory to which it in reality gives no countenance.
The Malthusian theory has been already disposed of, and the cumulative
disproof which will prevent the recurrence of a lingering doubt
will be given when it is shown, further on, that the phenomena
attributed to the pressure of population against subsistence would,
under existing conditions, manifest themselves were population
to remain stationary.
[03] The misapprehension
to which I now refer, and which, to a proper understanding of
the effect of increase of population upon the distribution of
wealth, it is necessary to clear up, is the presumption, expressed
or implied in all the current reasoning upon the subject of rent
in connection with population, that the recourse to lower points
of production involves a smaller aggregate produce in proportion
to the labor expended; though that this is not always the case
is clearly recognized in connection with agricultural improvements,
which, to use the words of Mill, are considered "as a partial
relaxation of the bonds which confine the increase of population."
But it is not involved even where there is no advance in the arts,
and the recourse to lower points of production is clearly the
result of the increased demand of an increased population. For
increased population, of itself, and without any advance in the
arts, implies an increase in the productive power of labor. The
labor of 100 men, other things being equal, will produce much
more than one hundred times as much as the labor of one man, and
the labor of 1,000 men much more than ten times as much as the
labor of 100 men; and, so, with every additional pair of hands
which increasing population brings, there is a more than proportionate
addition to the productive power of labor. Thus, with an increasing
population, there may be a recourse to lower natural powers of
production, not only without any diminution in the average production
of wealth as compared to labor, but without any diminution at
the lowest point. If population be doubled, land of but 20 productiveness
may yield to the same amount of labor as much as land of 30 productiveness
could before yield. For it must not be forgotten (what often is
forgotten) that the productiveness either of land or labor is
not to be measured in any one thing, but in all desired things.
A settler and his family may raise as much corn on land a hundred
miles away from the nearest habitation as they could raise were
their land in the center of a populous district. But in the populous
district they could obtain with the same labor as good a living
from much poorer land, or from land of equal quality could make
as good a living after paying a high rent, because in the midst
of a large population their labor would have become more effective;
not, perhaps, in the production of corn, but in the production
of wealth generally -- or the obtaining of all the commodities
and services which are the real object of their labor.
[04] But even where
there is a diminution in the productiveness of labor at the lowest
point -- that is to say, where the increasing demand for wealth
has driven production to a lower point of natural productiveness
than the addition to the power of labor from increasing population
suffices to make up for -- it does not follow that the aggregate
production, as compared with the aggregate labor, has been lessened.
[05] Let us suppose
land of diminishing qualities. The best would naturally be settled
first, and as population increased production would take in the
next lower quality, and so on. But, as the increase of population,
by permitting greater economies, adds to the effectiveness of
labor, the cause which brought each quality of land successively
into cultivation would at the same time increase the amount of
wealth that the same quantity of labor could produce from it.
But it would also do more than this -- it would increase the power
of producing wealth on all the superior lands already in cultivation.
If the relations of quantity and quality were such that increasing
population added to the effectiveness of labor faster than it
compelled a resort to less productive qualities of land, though
the margin of cultivation would fall and rent would rise, the
minimum return to labor would increase. That is to say, though
wages as a proportion would fall, wages as a quantity would rise.
The average production of wealth would increase. If the relations
were such that the increasing effectiveness of labor just compensated
for the diminishing productiveness of the land as it was called
into use, the effect of increasing population would be to increase
rent by lowering the margin of cultivation without reducing wages
as a quantity, and to increase the average production. If we now
suppose population still increasing, but, between the poorest
quality of land in use and the next lower quality, to be a difference
so great that the increased power of labor which comes with the
increased population that brings it into cultivation cannot compensate
for it -- the minimum return to labor will be reduced, and with
the rise of rents, wages will fall, not only as a proportion,
but as a quantity. But unless the descent in the quality of land
is far more precipitous than we can well imagine, or than, I think,
ever exists, the average production will still be increased, for
the increased effectiveness which comes by reason of the increased
population that compels resort to the inferior quality of land
attaches to all labor, and the gain on the superior qualities
of land will more than compensate for the diminished production
on the quality last brought in. The aggregate wealth production,
as compared with the aggregate expenditure of labor, will be greater,
though its distribution will be more unequal.
[06] Thus, increase
of population, as it operates to extend production to lower natural
levels, operates to increase rent and reduce wages as a proportion,
and may or may not reduce wages as a quantity; while it seldom
can, and probably never does, reduce the aggregate production
of wealth as compared with the aggregate expenditure of labor,
but on the contrary increases, and frequently largely increases
it.
[07] But while the
increase of population thus increases rent by lowering the margin
of cultivation, it is a mistake to look upon this as the only
mode by which rent advances as population grows. Increasing population
increases rent, without reducing the margin of cultivation; and
notwithstanding the dicta of such writers as McCulloch, who assert
that rent would not arise were there an unbounded extent of equally
good land, increases it without reference to the natural qualities
of land, for the increased powers of co-operation and exchange
which come with increased population are equivalent to -- nay,
I think we can say without metaphor, that they give -- an increased
capacity to land.
[08] I do not mean
to say merely that, like an improvement in the methods or tools
of production, the increased power which comes with increased
population gives to the same labor an increased result, which
is equivalent to an increase in the natural powers of land; but
that it brings out a superior power in labor, which is localized
on land -- which attaches not to labor generally, but only to
labor exerted on particular land; and which thus inheres in the
land as much as any qualities of soil, climate, mineral deposit,
or natural situation, and passes, as they do, with the possession
of the land.
[09] An improvement
in the method of cultivation which, with the same outlay, will
give two crops a year in place of one, or an improvement in tools
and machinery which will double the result of labor, will manifestly,
on a particular piece of ground, have the same effect on the produce
as a doubling of the fertility of the land. But the difference
is in this respect -- the improvement in method or in tools can
be utilized on any land; but the improvement in fertility can
be utilized only on the particular land to which it applies. Now,
in large part, the increased productiveness of labor which arises
from increased population can be utilized only on particular land,
and on particular land in greatly varying degrees.
[10] Here, let us
imagine, is an unbounded savannah, stretching off in unbroken
sameness of grass and flower, tree and rill, till the traveler
tires of the monotony. Along comes the wagon of the first immigrant.
Where to settle he cannot tell -- every acre seems as good as
every other acre. As to wood, as to water, as to fertility, as
to situation, there is absolutely no choice, and he is perplexed
by the embarrassment of richness. Tired out with the search for
one place that is better than another, he stops -- somewhere,
anywhere -- and starts to make himself a home. The soil is virgin
and rich, game is abundant, the streams flash with the finest
trout. Nature is at her very best. He has what, were he in a populous
district, would make him rich; but he is very poor. To say nothing
of the mental craving, which would lead him to welcome the sorriest
stranger, he labors under all the material disadvantages of solitude.
He can get no temporary assistance for any work that requires
a greater union of strength than that afforded by his own family,
or by such help as he can permanently keep. Though he has cattle,
he cannot often have fresh meat, for to get a beefsteak he must
kill a bullock. He must be his own blacksmith, wagonmaker, carpenter,
and cobbler -- in short, a "jack of all trades and master of none."
He cannot have his children schooled, for, to do so, he must himself
pay and maintain a teacher. Such things as he cannot produce himself,
he must buy in quantities and keep on hand, or else go without,
for he cannot be constantly leaving his work and making a long
journey to the verge of civilization; and when forced to do so,
the getting of a vial of medicine or the replacement of a broken
auger may cost him the labor of himself and horses for days. Under
such circumstances, though nature is prolific, the man is poor.
It is an easy matter for him to get enough to eat; but beyond
this, his labor will suffice to satisfy only the simplest wants
in the rudest way.
[11] Soon there
comes another immigrant. Although every quarter section of the
boundless plain is as good as every other quarter section, he
is not beset by any embarrassment as to where to settle. Though
the land is the same, there is one place that is clearly better
for him than any other place, and that is where there is already
a settler and he may have a neighbor. He settles by the side of
the first comer, whose condition is at once greatly improved,
and to whom many things are now possible that were before impossible,
for two men may help each other to do things that one man could
never do.
[12] Another immigrant
comes, and, guided by the same attraction, settles where there
are already two. Another, and another, until around our first
comer there are a score of neighbors. Labor has now an effectiveness
which, in the solitary state, it could not approach. If heavy
work is to be done, the settlers have a logrolling, and together
accomplish in a day what singly would require years. When one
kills a bullock, the others take part of it, returning when they
kill, and thus they have fresh meat all the time. Together they
hire a schoolmaster, and the children of each are taught for a
fractional part of what similar teaching would have cost the first
settler. It becomes a comparatively easy matter to send to the
nearest town, for some one is always going. But there is less
need for such journeys. A blacksmith and a wheelwright soon set
up shops, and our settler can have his tools repaired for a small
part of the labor it formerly cost him. A store is opened and
he can get what he wants as he wants it; a postoffice, soon added,
gives him regular communication with the rest of the world. Then
come a cobbler, a carpenter, a harness maker, a doctor; and a
little church soon arises. Satisfactions become possible that
in the solitary state were impossible. There are gratifications
for the social and the intellectual nature -- for that part of
the man that rises above the animal. The power of sympathy, the
sense of companionship, the emulation of comparison and contrast,
open a wider, and fuller, and more varied life. In rejoicing,
there are others to rejoice; in sorrow, the mourners do not mourn
alone. There are husking bees, and apple parings, and quilting
parties. Though the ballroom be unplastered and the orchestra
but a fiddle, the notes of the magician are yet in the strain,
and Cupid dances with the dancers. At the wedding, there are others
to admire and enjoy; in the house of death, there are watchers;
by the open grave, stands human sympathy to sustain the mourners.
Occasionally, comes a straggling lecturer to open up glimpses
of the world of science, of literature, or of art; in election
times, come stump speakers, and the citizen rises to a sense of
dignity and power, as the cause of empires is tried before him
in the struggle of John Doe and Richard Roe for his support and
vote. And, by and by, comes the circus, talked of months before,
and opening to children whose horizon has been the prairie, all
the realms of the imagination -- princes and princesses of fairy
tale, mailclad crusaders and turbaned Moors, Cinderella's fairy
coach, and the giants of nursery lore; lions such as crouched
before Daniel, or in circling Roman amphitheater tore the saints
of God; ostriches who recall the sandy deserts; camels such as
stood around when the wicked brethren raised Joseph from the well
and sold him into bondage; elephants such as crossed the Alps
with Hannibal, or felt the sword of the Maccabees; and glorious
music that thrills and builds in the chambers of the mind as rose
the sunny dome of Kubla Khan.
[13] Go to our settler
now, and say to him: "You have so many fruit trees which you planted;
so much fencing, such a well, a barn, a house -- in short, you
have by your labor added so much value to this farm. Your land
itself is not quite so good. You have been cropping it, and by
and by it will need manure. I will give you the full value of
all your improvements if you will give it to me, and go again
with your family beyond the verge of settlement." He would laugh
at you. His land yields no more wheat or potatoes than before,
but it does yield far more of all the necessaries and comforts
of life. His labor upon it will bring no heavier crops, and, we
will suppose, no more valuable crops, but it will bring far more
of all the other things for which men work. The presence of other
settlers -- the increase of population -- has added to the productiveness,
in these things, of labor bestowed upon it, and this added productiveness
gives it a superiority over land of equal natural quality where
there are as yet no settlers. If no land remains to be taken up,
except such as is as far removed from population as was our settler's
land when he first went upon it, the value or rent of this land
will be measured by the whole of this added capability. If, however,
as we have supposed, there is a continuous stretch of equal land,
over which population is now spreading, it will not be necessary
for the new settler to go into the wilderness, as did the first.
He will settle just beyond the other settlers, and will get the
advantage of proximity to them. The value or rent of our settler's
land will thus depend on the advantage which it has, from being
at the center of population, over that on the verge. In the one
case, the margin of production will remain as before; in the other,
the margin of production will be raised.
[14] Population
still continues to increase, and as it increases so do the economies
which its increase permits, and which in effect add to the productiveness
of the land. Our first settler's land, being the center of population,
the store, the blacksmith's forge, the wheelwright's shop, are
set up on it, or on its margin, where soon arises a village, which
rapidly grows into a town, the center of exchanges for the people
of the whole district. With no greater agricultural productiveness
than it had at first, this land now begins to develop a productiveness
of a higher kind. To labor expended in raising corn, or wheat,
or potatoes, it will yield no more of those things than at first;
but to labor expended in the subdivided branches of production
which require proximity to other producers, and, especially, to
labor expended in that final part of production, which consists
in distribution, it will yield much larger returns. The wheatgrower
may go further on, and find land on which his labor will produce
as much wheat, and nearly as much wealth; but the artisan, the
manufacturer, the storekeeper, the professional man, find that
their labor expended here, at the center of exchanges, will yield
them much more than if expended even at a little distance away
from it; and this excess of productiveness for such purposes the
landowner can claim just as he could an excess in its wheat-producing
power. And so our settler is able to sell in building lots a few
of his acres for prices which it would not bring for wheatgrowing
if its fertility had been multiplied many times. With the proceeds,
he builds himself a fine house, and furnishes it handsomely. That
is to say, to reduce the transaction to its lowest terms, the
people who wish to use the land build and furnish the house for
him, on condition that he will let them avail themselves of the
superior productiveness which the increase of population has given
the land.
[15] Population
still keeps on increasing, giving greater and greater utility
to the land, and more and more wealth to its owner. The town has
grown into a city -- a St. Louis, a Chicago or a San Francisco
-- and still it grows. Production is here carried on upon a great
scale, with the best machinery and the most favorable facilities;
the division of labor becomes extremely minute, wonderfully multiplying
efficiency; exchanges are of such volume and rapidity that they
are made with the minimum of friction and loss. Here is the heart,
the brain, of the vast social organism that has grown up from
the germ of the first settlement; here has developed one of the
great ganglia of the human world. Hither run all roads, hither
set all currents, through all the vast regions round about. Here,
if you have anything to sell, is the market; here, if you have
anything to buy, is the largest and the choicest stock. Here intellectual
activity is gathered into a focus, and here springs that stimulus
which is born of the collision of mind with mind. Here are the
great libraries, the storehouses and granaries of knowledge, the
learned professors, the famous specialists. Here are museums and
art galleries, collections of philosophical apparatus, and all
things rare, and valuable, and best of their kind. Here come great
actors, and orators, and singers, from all over the world. Here,
in short, is a center of human life, in all its varied manifestations.
[16] So enormous
are the advantages which this land now offers for the application
of labor, that instead of one man -- with a span of horses scratching
over acres, you may count in places thousands of workers to the
acre, working tier on tier, on floors raised one above the other,
five, six, seven and eight stories from the ground, while underneath
the surface of the earth engines are throbbing with pulsations
that exert the force of thousands of horses.
[17] All these advantages
attach to the land; it is on this land and no other that they
can be utilized, for here is the center of population -- the focus
of exchanges, the market place and workshop of the highest forms
of industry. The productive powers which density of population
has attached to this land are equivalent to the multiplication
of its original fertility by the hundredfold and the thousandfold.
And rent, which measures the difference between this added productiveness
and that of the least productive land in use, has increased accordingly.
Our settler, or whoever has succeeded to his right to the land,
is now a millionaire. Like another Rip Van Winkle, he may have
lain down and slept; still he is rich -- not from anything he
has done, but from the increase of population. There are lots
from which for every foot of frontage the owner may draw more
than an average mechanic can earn; there are lots that will sell
for more than would suffice to pave them with gold coin. In the
principal streets are towering buildings, of granite, marble,
iron, and plate glass, finished in the most expensive style, replete
with every convenience. Yet they are not worth as much as the
land upon which they rest -- the same land, in nothing changed,
which when our first settler came upon it had no value at all.
[18] That this is
the way in which the increase of population powerfully acts in
increasing rent, whoever, in a progressive country, will look
around him, may see for himself. The process is going on under
his eyes. The increasing difference in the productiveness of the
land in use, which causes an increasing rise in rent, results
not so much from the necessities of increased population compelling
the resort to inferior land, as from the increased productiveness
which increased population gives to the lands already in use.
The most valuable lands on the globe, the lands which yield the
highest rent, are not lands of surpassing natural fertility, but
lands to which a surpassing utility has been given by the increase
of population.
[19] The increase
of productiveness or utility which increase of population gives
to certain lands, in the way to which I have been calling attention,
attaches, as it were, to the mere quality of extension. The valuable
quality of land that has become a center of population is its
superficial capacity -- it makes no difference whether it is fertile,
alluvial soil like that of Philadelphia, rich bottom land like
that of New Orleans; a filled-in marsh like that of St. Petersburg,
or a sandy waste like the greater part of San Francisco.
[20] And where value
seems to arise from superior natural qualities, such as deep water
and good anchorage, rich deposits of coal and iron, or heavy timber,
observation also shows that these superior qualities are brought
out, rendered tangible, by population. The coal and iron fields
of Pennsylvania, that today are worth enormous sums, were fifty
years ago valueless. What is the efficient cause of the difference?
Simply the difference in population. The coal and iron beds of
Wyoming and Montana, which today are valueless, will, in fifty
years from now, be worth millions on millions, simply because,
in the meantime, population will have greatly increased.
[21] It is a well-provisioned
ship, this on which we sail through space. If the bread and beef
above decks seem to grow scarce, we but open a hatch and there
is a new supply, of which before we never dreamed. And very great
command over the services of others comes to those who as the
hatches are opened are permitted to say, "This is mine!"
[22] To recapitulate:
The effect of increasing population upon the distribution of wealth
is to increase rent, and consequently to diminish the proportion
of the produce which goes to capital and labor, in two ways: First,
by lowering the margin of cultivation. Second, by bringing out
in land special capabilities otherwise latent, and by attaching
special capabilities to particular lands.
[23] I am disposed
to think that the latter mode, to which little attention has been
given by political economists, is really the more important. But
this, in our inquiry, is not a matter of moment.
