Loe raamatut: «Robinson Crusoe's Money»

Preface

The origin of this little book is as follows: Some months ago, the expediency was suggested to the author, by certain prominent friends of hard money in this country, of preparing for popular reading—and possibly for political campaign purposes—a little tract, or essay, in which the elementary principles underlying the important subjects of money and currency should be presented and illustrated from the simplest A B C stand-point. That such a work was desirable, and that none of the very great number of speeches and essays already published on these topics in all respects answered the existing requirement, was admitted; but how to invest subjects, so often discussed, and so commonly regarded as dry and abstract, with sufficient new interest to render them at once attractive and intelligible to those whose tastes disincline them to close reasoning and investigation, was a matter not easy to determine.

At last the old idea—recognized in fables, allegories, and parables—of making a story the medium for communicating instruction, suggested itself; and, in accordance with the suggestion, a remote island community has been imagined, in which, starting from conditions but one remove from barbarism, but gradually rising to a high degree of civilization, the progress, the use, and the abuse of the instrumentalities and mechanism of exchange—through barter, money, and currency—have been traced consecutively; and the effect of the application of not a few of the most popular fiscal recommendations and theories of the day practically worked out and recorded. And, in carrying out this scheme, the reader will not fail to perceive, by reference to the marginal notes accompanying the text, that hardly an absurdity in reference to exchange, money, or currency can be imagined, which somewhere and at some time has not had its exact counterpart in actual history or experience.

If any apology for the objects designed or the course pursued is needed, the author thinks he finds it in the precedent established by the illustrious Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., who, in the introduction to his “Tales of a Traveler,” thus happily sets forth the special advantage which accrues from the proper employment of a story as a means of communicating information. “I am not,” he says, “for those barefaced tales which carry their moral on their surface, staring one in the face; on the contrary, I have often hid my moral from sight, and disguised it as much as possible by sweets and spices; so that while the simple reader is listening with open mouth to a ghost or love story, he may have a bolus of sound morality popped down his throat, and be never the wiser for the fraud.”

Whether in “Robinson Crusoe’s Money” the author shall succeed in inducing his fellow-countrymen—to whom the ordinary currency medicine is becoming distasteful—to swallow without wry faces the same dose sugar-coated, remains to be determined.

Norwich, Conn., January, 1876.

Chapter I.
The Three Great Bags of Money

All who have read “Robinson Crusoe” (and who has not?) will remember the circumstance of his opening, some time after he had become domiciled on his desolate island, one of the chests that had come to him from the ship. In it he found pins, needles and thread, a pair of large scissors, “ten or a dozen good knives,” some cloth, about a dozen and a half of white linen handkerchiefs concerning which he remarks, “They were exceedingly refreshing to wipe my face on a warm day;” and, finally, hidden away in the till of the chest, “three great bags of money—gold as well as silver.”

The finding of all these articles—the money excepted—it will be further remembered, greatly delighted the heart of Crusoe; inasmuch as they increased his store of useful things, and therefore increased his comfort and happiness. But in respect to the money the case was entirely different. It was a thing to him, under the circumstances, absolutely worthless, and over its presence and finding he soliloquized as follows: “I smiled at myself at the sight of all this money. ‘Oh, drug!’ said I, aloud, ‘what art thou good for? Thou art not worth to me, no, not the taking off the ground. One of these knives is worth all this heap. Nay, I would give it all for a gross of tobacco-pipes; for sixpenny-worth of turnip and carrot seed from England; or for a handful of pease and beans, and a bottle of ink.’”

In introducing this episode in the life of his hero, nothing was probably further from the thought of the author, De Foe, than the intent to give his readers a lesson in political economy. And yet it would be difficult to find an illustration which conveys in so simple a manner to him who reflects upon it so much of information in respect to the nature of that which is popularly termed “wealth;” or so good a basis for reasoning correctly in respect to the origin and function of that which we call “money.” And in such reasoning, the truth of the following propositions is too evident to require demonstration:

1st. The pins and needles, the scissors, knives, and cloth were of great utility to Robinson Crusoe, because their possession satisfied a great desire on his part to have them, and greatly increased his comfort and happiness.

2d. Possessing utility, they nevertheless possessed no exchangeable value, because they could not be bought or sold, or, what is the same thing, exchanged with any body for any thing.

3d. They had, moreover, no price, for they had no purchasing power which could be expressed as money.

4th. The money, which is popularly regarded as the symbol and the concentration of all wealth, had, under the circumstances, neither utility, value, nor price. It could not be eaten, drunk, worn, used as a tool, or exchanged with any body for any thing, and fully merited the appellation which Crusoe in another place gives it, of “sorry, worthless stuff.”

Finally, the pins, needles, knives, cloth, and scissors were all capital to Robinson Crusoe, because they were all instrumentalities capable of being used to produce something additional, to him useful or desirable. The money was not capital, under the circumstances, because it could not be used to produce any thing.

Starting, then, with a condition of things on the island in which money had clearly neither utility nor value, let us next consider under what change of domestic circumstances it could become useful, acquire value, become an object of exchange, and constitute a standard for establishing prices.

Chapter II.
A New Social Order of Things

The first person that came to join Robinson Crusoe on his island was Friday, and next, Friday’s father. But even with this increase of numbers there was still no use for the money, inasmuch as the three constituted but one family, the members of which labored and shared all useful things they acquired in common, and made no exchanges. But when Will Atkins and the English sailors came, and the population of the island, we may suppose, was largely and permanently increased, a new social order of things became inevitable. Incompatibility of taste and temper, and a natural desire for personal independence, soon made it impossible for all to live and share in common as one family. And self-interest also soon taught, that, in order that the quantity of useful things available for the new community as a whole might be increased, and their quality perfected, it was desirable, that, instead of each man endeavoring to supply all his own wants, and for this purpose following irregularly the business of a carpenter, baker, tailor, mason, and the like, it was best for each man to pursue but one occupation, and, making himself skilled in it, procure the things which he himself did not produce, and which he might need, by exchanging his own products or services for the products or services of some other man. They saw instinctively that Robinson Crusoe, although originally civilized, would, if he had remained alone on the island, have inevitably become a pure savage, and simply because he was alone, and could make no exchanges. For a time, the things which he obtained from the wreck raised him above this condition; for what the ship brought him—the knives, axes, guns, cloth, etc.—were capital, or the accumulated labor of other men. But if the ship had given him nothing, he would have had to make every thing for himself—“his hat, his garments, his feet-covering, his bread, his meat with bow and arrows, his house by blows of his hatchet, his hatchet by blows of his hammer, his hammer heaven knows how”—and become a barbarian in spite of himself, because all his effort would have been required, and would have only sufficed, to insure him a bare subsistence.

Systematic division of labor and the exchange of products and services thus, for the first time on the island, came in, and constituted a part of the perfected machinery of production, or the means of getting a living. And it is also to be here noted, that, because commodities and services now for the first time became exchangeable, they also for the first time acquired the attribute which we call value.

Chapter III.
The Period of Barter

All exchanges must, however, in the first instance, have been made directly, or, as we term it, by barter; so much of one commodity or service being given for so much of some other commodity or service—corn for cloth, furs and skins for knives or tobacco, so much labor in building a house for so much skill in constructing a canoe. But in all this method of exchanging, which, while it is the most ancient, is also one which still extensively prevails in even the most civilized societies, there was no place for the use or intervention of money; and consequently, also, there was no such thing as price; for price, as before stated, is the purchasing power of any commodity or service expressed in money.

But the people on Robinson Crusoe Island soon found out by experience that there was an obstacle in the way of carrying on all exchanges according to the principle of direct barter, so serious in its nature as to constitute, unless removed, a complete bar to any further considerable progress in civilization and social development. And the discovery happened somewhat in this wise:

Twist, who was a tailor, and had made a coat, discovered all at once that he was out of bread; and being hungry, suspended work, and went in search of Needum, the baker, to effect an exchange. He found him without difficulty, just heating his oven, and with plenty of bread to dispose of; but as the baker had all the coats he wanted, he declined to trade. Needum, however, kindly informed Twist that if any fellow should call with any surplus grain or flour, he (Needum) would be most happy to supply him with all the bread he needed in exchange; but as the tailor was neither a farmer nor a miller, and had neither of these articles, he (Twist) set off for the other end of the island, where there was another baker, to see how the latter was situated in respect to garments. On his way, Twist was overtaken by Pecks, the mason, who had no coat, and, wanting the very garment which Twist had been making, had stopped work on a stone wall and gone in search of the tailor, to whom he proposed to exchange the coat for a new chimney. But as Twist had already two chimneys to his house, and nothing to cook, and didn’t want another chimney, the mason was as unsuccessful in his effort to trade with the tailor as the tailor had been just before with the baker. At last, after much vexatious traveling about, involving great waste of time and labor, Twist found a baker who wanted to exchange bread for the coat, and Pecks a tailor who would give a coat for a chimney; Needum having, in the mean time, shut up his bakery and gone in search of Diggs, the farmer, who was willing to supply grain for bread. But when all these different persons, each desirous of exchanging his special products or services, had been found, and had come together, a new perplexity at once made its appearance, and one so embarrassing as to cause each man seriously to consider whether it were not better to return home and endeavor to produce every thing for himself, rather than attempt to exchange any thing. “For how,” said they all, “is the comparative value of our different commodities and services which we propose to exchange to be ascertained?” “How can I know,” said Twist, “how many loaves I ought to receive for my coat?” “Or I,” said Pecks, “find out how high and broad a chimney I ought to make for my garment?” Diggs, furthermore, got up a little private dispute of his own with Needum, growing out of the circumstance that the latter wanted to make his entire payment in bread to the former at once; while Diggs, who did not relish the idea of living on stale and possibly moldy bread for an indefinite length of time, wanted pay for his grain, from the baker, at the rate of one fresh loaf per day. As for poor Twist, he had become by this time so humble through hunger that he had not the heart to object to the proposition to take a cart-load of bread at once in exchange for his coat, although his house was so small that he knew he would have to store part of his “pay” on the roof, where it would be certain to be eaten by others than his own family.

There was another incident which happened about this time which made much talk among the island community. A man who had nothing to sell but his labor had been employed to load a vessel with coal—a vein of which had been discovered; and, after working faithfully all day, had received in pay for his services a ton of coal. But as it was meat, drink, and lodging, and not coal (although the latter was greatly needed for some purposes), which the laborer wanted, there was nothing left for the laborer to do but to attempt to exchange his coal, and that, too, as soon as possible, in order to satisfy his immediate necessities. Being too poor to hire a horse and cart, he therefore borrowed a wheelbarrow, and, filling it with coal, went in search of persons who had a surplus of meat, drink, and lodgings to dispose of. But all of them happened to have all the coal they wanted; and morning found the laborer still trundling through the streets his most useful commodity unexchanged, and ready to sink with hunger and exposure. A like experience befell also the journeyman butcher, blacksmith, carpenter, and dry-goods clerk, who received for their day’s labor respectively a sheep-skin, a dozen horse-shoes, a piece of pine timber, and two yards of red flannel. All were in no condition, through bodily exhaustion, to resume work on the next day; and all also clearly saw that their condition would not have been much improved, if each had received an entire payment in either meat, drink, or lodging, in place of coal, skin, lumber, horseshoes, or cloth.

The laborers, therefore, held a meeting, and at once resolved: “That whereas it was evident that the system of paying for labor with a portion of the commodity which each laborer produced would necessitate as much time and labor to make their wages serviceable to their wants as was required in the first instance to earn said wages; therefore, it was but right and proper that the employers should allow the laborers to use half of the whole time for which they were paid, for the purpose of rendering their wages wholly available for their immediate necessities.” But to this the employers rejoined that such an agreement would be equivalent not only to doubling the proportion of wages to direct production, but also to impairing, to the extent of one-half, the effectiveness of all labor engaged in production, thereby increasing scarcity, diminishing abundance, and rendering further advance in material development exceedingly slow, if not altogether impossible. For a time, therefore, there was a prospect of a very serious difficulty between the representatives of labor and the representatives of capital; resulting, as is always the case, in immense losses, not only to those directly concerned, but to the whole community.

Chapter IV.
How They Invented Money

The people on the island—both laborers and employers—were, however, fully agreed that life was too short to waste a good part of it in a game of “blindman’s-buff” on a large scale—for such this attempt to conduct exchanges on a basis of direct barter substantially was;¹ but they nevertheless also clearly perceived that the game would continue to be played, to the interruption of all material progress, unless some other method of exchanging could be devised and adopted. Under the guidance, therefore, as it were, of instinct (Robinson Crusoe encouraging), and without any enactment of law, Twist, Needum, Pecks, Diggs, Friday, Friday’s father, Will Atkins, and every body else, by common consent, agreed to select and adopt some single commodity which all should agree to take in exchange for whatever of products or services they might have to dispose of; so that whenever any one had any thing to exchange, he might first exchange it for this commodity, whatever it might be, and then with such intermediate object purchase at such times and places, and in such proportions as he might desire, whatever he might need. And the moment this was done, civilization on the island took a long step forward, and the first great embarrassment growing out of the attempt to exchange exclusively by direct barter was removed. The tailor was no longer in danger of starving; the mason had no longer any anxiety about procuring clothing, and the laborer received as pay for his labor something which gave him an equivalent in meat, drink, lodging, and other necessities which he might need, without trouble; every man giving freely of his goods or services for the intermediate object, because he knew that every other person desirous of exchanging would be willing to do the same.

Again: the selection of some commodity or article, and the investing it by common consent with a universal and comparatively unvarying purchasing power, also solved the second perplexity, inasmuch as it provided a measure or standard, for ascertaining the comparative value or purchasing power of every other exchangeable commodity or service; and in precisely the same manner as the length or weight of any thing is ascertained, i.e., by comparing it with some other thing which the community have universally agreed to recognize as a standard of length or weight—as, for example, the rod of wood which we call a yard-stick, or a piece of metal which is termed a pound. “My loaves are each worth ten pieces of the intermediate commodity,” said Needum, the baker! “My coat,” rejoined Twist, the tailor, “is worth a thousand pieces!” The terms of fair exchange between the baker and the tailor would therefore have been one hundred loaves for one coat.

The general name given to the commodities or articles which the people of different countries universally accept in exchange, as the equivalent for all other commodities or services, and as the measure of values, is money.

The commodities or articles which have been selected by men at various times and places to serve as this universal equivalent, intermediate agent, or medium for facilitating exchanges, have been exceedingly various. Among the North American Indians, and the early settlers who came among them, wampum and beaver-skins were used as money; among the natives of West Africa, money consists of small shells called “cowries;” in Abyssinia, the common money of to-day is salt; in Chinese Tartary, it is cubes of pressed tea; and within a comparatively recent period small cakes of soap have been used as money on the west coast of Mexico. Among pastoral people of antiquity, cattle and sheep were so extensively used for money that our common English word pecuniary has its derivation from the old word pecus, signifying a flock. And while we read in Homer that the price of the armor of Glaucus was one hundred head of cattle, we also know that the Zulus of South Africa pay their debts to-day in cattle, and reckon their wealth by the same standard.

Money, therefore, existed before statutes, and exists and is used to-day among nations who have no written or acknowledged code of laws.

It is also of importance to a clear understanding of this subject to recognize at this point another fundamental fact, namely, that there is no evidence that any nation or people has ever adopted, in the first instance, any article or commodity to use as money which did not possess, by reason of some inherent or intrinsic desirable qualities, a natural purchasing power or value. And a little reflection will make it obvious that this must have been so from necessity. For in the absence of all law defining what money should be, and regulating exchanges, the adoption of any article to serve as money which represented little or no effort for its production or accumulation would enable the shrewd, the idle, or unscrupulous, easily, and without fear of punishment or restraint, to take from the rest of the community products which represented the expenditure of time and labor, without giving in return any equivalent. Thus, for example, if dried leaves, or pieces of paper with such marks as any might choose to stamp or scrawl upon them, had been invested with a universal purchasing power, the primary practical result of the use of such money would have been to enable somebody to obtain something for nothing, or to permit those who would not work or save, to rob those who did. The people on the island, being uneducated, never did any such foolish thing; but when they came to study history, they found out, to their great surprise, that the people of other countries had repeatedly used things worthless in themselves as money; and many years afterward a man who aspired to be a great teacher even came to the island from the United States, and endeavored to convince the people that it was a great defect to use any thing as money which had any intrinsic value as a commodity.² The children of the first school he attempted to talk to soon made his position embarrassing by reading from their histories that the people of every country, especially the poor and ill-informed, who had ever attempted to facilitate their exchanges by using something as money which had no intrinsic value, had in every case been so swindled and robbed, as a consequence, that sooner or later they were always compelled, as a measure of simple self-protection, to abandon its use, and in its place adopt something as money which had a generally acknowledged and comparatively permanent inherent value or purchasing power as a commodity.

The following were some of the narrations which the children found and read out of their histories:

“In December, 1861, a poor soldier’s widow put into the savings-bank two hundred dollars in specie, and then removed with four young children to California. In July, 1864, when gold stood at two hundred and eighty, she sent for her money. In return, she received a gold draft for eighty-three, accrued interest at six per cent, included.”—Henry Bronson, Nature and Office of Money.

“The morals of the people were corrupted (by the Continental irredeemable money) beyond any thing that could have been believed prior to the event. All ties of honor, blood, gratitude, humanity, and justice were dissolved. Old debts were paid when the paper money was worth no more than seventy for one. Brothers defrauded brothers, children parents, and parents children. Widows, orphans, and others were paid for money lent in specie with depreciated paper.”—Breck, Sketch of Continental Money.

“The assignats gradually dwindled down to nothing, involving the whole land in ruin—excepting a few lucky speculators—and resulted eventually in national bankruptcy. When thousands of wretches, even before the final collapse of the assignats, were committing suicide to escape starvation, war was a blessing; and Napoleon was the instrument by means of which all Europe was made to feel the results of worthless money, either directly or by inoculation, from its maddened victims.”—Notes on the French Assignats, and their Influence.

“He had to pay four hundred dollars for a hat; for a pair of boots the same. He wanted a good horse, but was asked a price equivalent to ten years’ pay.” “My six months’ earnings will scarce defray the most indispensable outlay of a single day. * * * For a bed, supper, and grog for myself, my three companions, and their servants, I was charged, on going off without a breakfast next day, the sum of eight hundred and fifty dollars.”—Life of General De Kalb.

“In all, from first to last (1835 to 1841), the amount of notes, bills, drafts, bonds, etc., issued by the Treasury of the Republic of Texas, and serving to a greater or less extent as a ‘circulating medium,’ amounted to $13,318,145, or at the rate of more than two hundred and sixty dollars per head of the entire population. If paper issues serving as money could have made a people rich, the Texans ought to have been the richest people in the universe. In January, 1839, Texas treasury-notes were worth no more than forty cents on the dollar; in the spring of 1839, they were worth thirty-seven and a half cents; in 1841, from twelve to fifteen cents; and in 1842 it required, in the characteristic language of the times, ‘fifteen dollars in treasury-notes to buy three glasses of brandy-and-water without sugar.’ ‘By this time there was little circulating medium of any kind in Texas; but this was no great calamity, as the people had but little left to circulate.’ The evils the system did were immense, and such as for which, even were it so disposed, the Government could afford no compensation to the sufferers.”—Gouge’s Fiscal History of Texas.

Again, one of the principal objects for which money was devised and brought into use was to serve as a measure, or standard, for estimating the comparative value of other things. But it seems hardly possible to conceive of a person desirous of using money for such purpose, selecting an article to measure values which in itself possesses no value, or costs no labor to produce, any more than he would select as a standard for measuring length something which had no length, or as a standard for measuring weight something which had no weight. The people of the island must have been unusually stupid if they did not from the outset, therefore, clearly see that nothing can be reliable and good money under all circumstances which does not of itself possess the full amount of the value which it professes on its face to possess.