Waste. the work of his predecessors. Consumption', wrote Adam Smith, is the sole end and purpose of all production; and the interest of the producer ought to be attended to only so far as it may be necessary for promoting that of the consumer. The maxim is so perfectly self-evident that it would be absurd to prove it.' It was, indeed, one of the main counts in Adam Smith's indictment of the mercantilists that the interest of the consumer was so constantly in their system sacrificed to that of the producer, and that they seemed to regard production and not consumption as the ultimate end and object of all industry and commerce.1 The French economist, J. B. Say (1803), and the Russian economist, Henry Storch (1815), treated the consumption of wealth as a definite division of the subject. N. W. Senior emphasized the point that wealth is produced for the purpose of being made use of', and even J. S. Mill, by his insistence on the distinction between productive and unproductive labour, implicity recognized the importance of consumption. Still, Ruskin here, as elsewhere, did good service by emphasizing the point, the importance of which, though not ignored, had perhaps been somewhat inadequately enunciated. There is, however, little danger that what are now known as the Dynamics' of wealth will ever again be neglected; least of all when an attempt is made to treat of the Ethics as well as the Economics of Wealth. The very word 'Economics', properly the ordering of the household', would seem to recall attention to this aspect of the subject. The household is, indeed, specially concerned with the art of wise spending and the avoidance of waste. But what is waste? Strictly regarded, everything is waste which is not productively consumed, nor can anything be productively consumed except by someone who is himself a productive labourer; nor is anything productively consumed, even by a productive worker, which is in excess of necessaries. This statement compels us, however, to give a somewhat extended connotation both to productive' and to' necessaries'. The whole subject is indeed of considerable 1 Wealth of Nations, iv, c. 8. complexity. Even the straitest economic Pharisees would admit that anyone is doing productive work who produces any commodity or renders any service in return for which he can obtain anything of value. The moralist, on the other hand, would be inclined both to extend and to narrow this definition. He would regard as essentially productive much work for which nothing ever has been, or ever will be, given in exchange. The laborious research of a Casaubon, for example, frequently turns out to possess no exchange value. On the other hand, the moralist would refuse to apply a term so honourable to much work and many services for which there is an eager competitive demand. national Perhaps it may help to unravel a complicated issue if we Essential recall the experience gained during the recent war. During services. that period the whole nation was mobilized for public service. Economic truths were accentuated, familiarized, and, in a sense, simplified by the entire concentration of the activities of a whole community on one supreme task. People rightly looked askance upon anyone who was obviously on personal pleasure bent, and hardly less upon those who merely ministered to pleasure or luxury. Thus, long before conscription was applied, every patriotic citizen released his footman and his younger gardeners. A more delicate and more difficult question was raised by the exemption, say, of a young teacher, a young actor, or a curate. Was the amusement of the people an essential national service during war-time? Was even the teaching of the young, or the cure of souls? Many people will answer all three questions in the affirmative. Some may answer one or more in the negative; and for every answer, even though contradictory, there may be something to be said. It might reasonably be agreed that it was a real national service to keep up the spirits and to sustain the morale of the home-workers, and that even the men at the front would be inspired and comforted by the thought that those whom they had left at home, whether to work or merely to wait, were not deprived of the consolations of religion or even of the distractions of entertainment. That those who were at work in laboratory The mobi lization of national resources in peacetime. What is essential Service? or mine, in office or factory, were doing service not less essential to the winning of victory than the men at the front-even if the former obtained for their service a reward grossly disproportionate as compared with the latter-will not and cannot be denied. The essential point is, however, that during those years of strain and stress, every man and woman of conscience put to himself the question: Is my expenditure of energy and time the most effective and economical from the point of view of attaining the one object which really matters? As time went on that question was answered for all, except the aged, by the imperative orders of the State. Similarly, the problem of economic consumption was also temporarily solved by State action; the principle of sumptuary legislation was applied to the minutest detail of daily existence; in short, the whole resources of the State were mobilized for victory. How far are the lessons inculcated by war-time experience applicable to peace? It would, of course, be sheer affectation to suggest that the same rigid standard of 'productive labour' or necessary consumption should be applied in time of peace. But economists and moralists are agreed that even if the connotation of 'necessity' and 'productive' be greatly enlarged the same principle must be rigidly applied to peace-time as to war. Only those who work, who contribute to the State some form of national service, are in strictness entitled to eat. To many who have watched an August crowd at Vichy, or Aix, or Karlsbad, the thought must have often occurredfor what purposes are these people being cured? Would the world be worse off if an earthquake were to swallow them en masse? Evidently in answering that question we must discriminate. Among the crowd at Llandrindod, or Harrogate, or Aix, or Vichy, may be many men and women still capable of effective service and productive labour in the strict economic sense. There may be many again whom, for social or domestic reasons, it is important to restore to health and vigour. Even the confirmed invalid, bed-ridden and helpless, may be performing, either actively or passively, essential national service; it may be only by the influence of a beautiful character; it may be simply by the example of suffering patiently endured; it may be merely as an object of unselfish devotion and altruistic service from others. Plainly, this is a matter on which a dogmatic decision were out of place. But it is also of the highest significance, both economic and ethical, to consider very carefully how far it is justifiable to provide even necessaries for entirely unnecessary people; how far it is justifiable to provide anything beyond necessaries for anyone; and finally, how 'necessary' and 'necessaries' are to be defined. saries and It may clear the path of a difficult argument if we deal Necesfirst with points on which we may assume a general agree- luxuries. ment. First, there may quite well be overwhelming reason, social or ethical, for keeping alive unnecessary' people, that is, people who are incapable of rendering any economic service, but there cannot be any economic reason for doing this; though we must be exceedingly careful as to the definition of 'economic service', before, even on economic grounds, we condemn such persons to euthanasia. Secondly, it cannot be economically justifiable to provide luxuries, or even necessaries, in excess for anyone. Thirdly, it is not economically sound or ethically right that any person, necessary or unnecessary, should have luxuries while effective workers lack any of those things which conduce to efficiency. Fourthly, it is on every ground important to enlarge the desires of men, or in other words to raise the standard of comfort. As Professor Roscher has truly said: ‘A much greater number and the longer continuance of his wants are among the most striking differences between man and the brute. While the lower animals have no wants but necessities, and while their aggregate wants even in the longest series of generations admit of no qualitative increase, the circle of man's wants is susceptible of indefinite extension. And, indeed, every advance in culture made by man finds expression in an increase in the number and in the keenness of his rational wants.' > Is luxury A good deal may be thought to turn upon the interpreta- good for trade? Modes of expenditure. tion of the epithet rational'. But even so it is perhaps dangerous to assume that the aphorisms enunciated above will command universal assent. Expenditure on commodities, which are admittedly not necessary and even conspicuously luxurious, is frequently justified on the ground that such expenditure is good for trade. That fallacy has been with many others, for all time, exposed by the genius of Bastiat. The hilarious undergraduate who goes round a College quadrangle smashing every pane of glass within his reach is indulging a taste for luxury, and the money expended on repairing the damage he has wrought will certainly give satisfaction to the glaziers. Thus luxury of window-breaking is certainly good for a particular trade. Similarly, the fashionable costumiers of Bond Street or the Rue de la Paix undoubtedly derive great benefit from what is generally called a 'good season' in London. But the problem which economists have to solve is how far such expenditure is good, not for particular trades, but for trade: how far it tends to increase the aggregate wealth of the community. One admission may, at the outset, be made. It is quite conceivable that it may stimulate productive labour to permit a considerable latitude in expenditure to those who succeed in the economic race. To incite the industry and then deny to the industrious the fruits of toil, even if the fruits be over-rich and over-abundant, would be as absurd ethically as it would be economically disastrous. But, things being as they are, the faithful steward will scrutinize very closely all expenditure beyond that which can obtain economic justification. Whether or not we can in law assent to the principle of absolute ownership, no scrupulous or high-minded man can regard himself as otherwise than a steward or trustee of those goods with which he is temporarily endowed. It may be asked, however, what a man is to do with his income if he does not spend it? Every one spends his income; but the difference between the wise man and the fool lies in the skill with which he discriminates between the several objects of expenditure. Even saving, as we |