Present-day society does not concern itself with determining
the needs of society. Planned economy and capitalism are irreconcilable
contradictions; the one excludes the other. If an economy is planned, then it
has also ceased to be a capitalist economy. Experience has proved that planning
under capitalism is impossible. When we socialists speak of planned economy we
do not mean a plan which leaves all the wastefulness, all the inefficiency and
all the criminal parasitism of capitalism untouched. When we socialists speak
of a society organized on the basis of planned production and distribution we
mean something entirely different. What we have in mind is very simple. It is
clear-cut. Do away with production for profit.
The application of new technologies to human society shows
what immense possibilities for the satisfaction of human wants are contained in
the achievements of science and in its future growth. It can reduce human
labour to the easy task of monitoring computerised automated machinery a few
hours a day. It leaves mankind free to engage in other pursuits. Everybody is
responsible for the welfare of all, everybody works according to his or her
ability and everybody receives from the common stock of goods according to need.
No exploitation, no oppression, no insecurity, no poverty. Life is made humane.
This isn’t a utopia. This isn’t a dream. What we propose is real, capable of
fulfillment, by the forces that already exist and are in operation.
Capitalism is production for the market. The surplus-value
created by the workers cannot be realized by the capitalist in the form of
profit until the product has been sold on the market. It should be borne in
mind that the market, under capitalism, has a far wider meaning than is usually
understood by that term. The capitalist market is not confined to the consumers
who buy the simple commodities required for life – food, clothing, home
furnishings and the like. Every capitalist enterprise produces for the market.
But each one is itself a market. Mines buy lumber, tools and machines. Steel
mills buy coal, brick, concrete, iron, machinery. Machine-tool plants buy
machines and metals. Automobile factories buy machine tools, metals, glass,
rubber, woolens and even agricultural products. Textile mills buy machines,
cotton, wool and synthetic materials.
How does a capitalist enterprise know how many of its
products can be sold on the market, in other words, how many it can safely turn
out for any given period? It does not know. It cannot know. All it can do is to
depend on the market price and a judgment of its trend. Prices are regulated by
supply and demand. Low supply and great demand usually mean high prices, and
vice versa. If prices are relatively high and it looks from the trend that they
will stay high or go higher, the enterprise is stimulated to produce and to
capture from its rivals as large a share of the market as possible. The market
is the only basic regulator of capitalist production. As we shall see, however,
it is a blind regulator.
The capitalist enterprise begins to produce. It acquires
machinery or replaces its old equipment with new, more modern, more efficient
equipment. It purchases raw materials, and uses more fuel and electrical
energy. It may set up an annex to its building, not only to produce a greater
quantity of its commodity but to produce each unit cheaper. It hires a larger
working force.
By these very acts, it stimulates production in other
enterprises. Wages in the pocket of the worker means a greater demand for
ordinary consumers’ goods; the industries producing them therefore increase
their activities. The machine-tool industry expands production; so do those
industries which supply it with raw materials, construction materials, tools,
etc. The raw materials’ industries – chemicals, mining, cotton and leather,
steel and iron – likewise speed up production. Multiply all this a thousand
times and you get a clearer picture of how production gets under way and
develops on an even-wider scale. As the market expands, each capitalist is
impelled to produce more, in the hope of capturing a greater share of the
market and out of fear of losing out to his competitors. They, meanwhile, are
prompted by the same considerations and act in the same way. Even in boom times,
therefore, or rather precisely in time of economic boom, capitalist production
has an inherent tendency to over-production. This tendency to over-produce does
not refer to the real needs of society. There is over-production in relation to
the capitalist market, that is, there is a tendency to produce more than can be
disposed of on the market at a profit.
Let us illustrate the process. The supply of automobiles is
low, the demand high; the market price is therefore high. The capitalist is
stimulated to produce. Each automobile factory begins. None of them has
anything like an exact idea of how much the market can absorb. None of them has
an exact idea of how many automobiles its rivals are planning to produce. The
competitive race commences. This race stimulates the same kind of unplanned
production among the manufacturers of tires and other articles that go into the
making of automobiles. This, in turn, stimulates the production of raw rubber
for the tyres and the machinery required to process it. The production in the
steel mills and aluminum plants is stimulated in the same blind way, each plant
producing more and more in the hope of capturing a larger and larger share of
the growing market. The same holds true of leather factories; the machine-tool
industry; the coal mining and iron ore industries; the plate glass industry;
and a hundred others.
The more they expand production, the more complex the
problem becomes. The expansion in an industry that supplies automobile
manufacturers, in turn stimulates all the industries that supply that one. The
echo of the initial stimulus to production reverberates to the most distant
parts of economic life and back again.
The trouble is that this expansion of production in boom times is in its
very nature unplanned. For example, a 100 per cent increase in wheat production
does not require a 100 per cent increase in the production of threshing
machines. A 100 per cent increase in the production of threshing machines may
mean a 100 per cent increase in the iron that goes into the machines, but only
a 10 per cent increase in the production of the tools by which the threshers
are made. A 100 per cent increase in cotton textiles may require only a 25 per
cent increase in the production of textile machinery. What is more, this small
increase in textile machinery for one year may suffice to keep textile
production at the higher rate for five years – the market for textiles
themselves is more continuous than the market for textile machinery, the one
used up far more rapidly than the other.
If all the enterprises could be joined under one roof, and
production planned with meticulous care, it would be possible to work out a
schedule of expansion for each industry so that each would develop in
harmonious proportion to the other. Planning could regulate the proportions in
which each industry should be expanded so that the whole of economic life
advances harmoniously. But we do not and cannot have that under capitalism. In
place of planned production, there is anarchy of production, competitive
production for the market.
Does the development of monopoly put an end to competition
and anarchy of production? No, under capitalism, monopoly exists side by side
with competition, even though it dominates it. As a matter of fact, monopoly makes
competition fiercer and more brutal.
Under the conditions of “free enterprise,” a big multitude
of capitalist enterprises compete with each other for the market. The weaker
fall by the wayside or are absorbed by the stronger. The many are centralized into
a few. The few tend to unite with each other into a cartel or a single trust,
which has a complete monopoly in the industry. All the branches of industry
undergo the same process, in one degree or another. But inasmuch as each
combination or merger of enterprises is much stronger than all these
enterprises when they existed independently, the competition between monopolies
for the rule of the market becomes more violent.
If competition between one steel mill and another is
replaced by a cartel in which they agree to share the market, or by a single
trust which they establish, a new competition for the market develops between
the steel trust and the aluminum trust, or between both of them and the
newly-developed plastics industry. If coal and oil and electrical companies
cease to compete with other coal and oil and electrical companies by
establishing “horizontal trusts” (trusts covering a whole branch of economic
life, like all of coal mining, all of steel making, etc.), a violent
competition develops for the “fuel” or “energy” market between the coal
monopoly and the oil monopoly. The competition is now between mighty and
extremely ruthless giants. Competition between monopolies extend on a
world-wide scale, in the form of struggles between the monopolies of one nation
and those of the others.
Production is carried
on in every capitalist country in an anarchic, unplanned manner, and that it
cannot be otherwise. What is the result?
As production gathers speed, free rein is given to what we
have called the inherent tendency to over-production. Remember, the capitalist
enterprise does not have an exact knowledge of the state of its particular
industry, to say nothing of the market as a whole. Rising prices give the
capitalist both the urge to produce in greater quantity and the confidence he
will find a profitable market for his products. Each one produces without a
knowledge of the proportions in which his enterprise or industry should expand
with relation to the expansion of the other enterprises in the industry, or in
relation to the expansion of other industries. Capitalism has no way of
establishing what the total demand is, and therefore cannot organize the
production of the total supply to meet this demand.
The automobile manufacturers (assuming that all of them work
it out together) decide that the market will absorb sufficient automobiles to
warrant an increase of production of fifty per cent. Steel, however, may very
well increase sixty per cent in the rising market; rubber, seventy per cent; plate
glass, eighty per cent; aluminum, ninety per cent. Each of these increases is
based not only on a judgment of what automobile production will require, but on
a judgment of what will be required in the form of steel, rubber, glass,
aluminum and the like, in a hundred other industries, in tens of thousands of
other enterprises, each of which operates independently, with its own
production schedule, separate from all others.
There is no way of telling immediately that the demand has
been exceeded by the supply. The rising market stimulates production in
expectation of sales. Machinery and raw materials are not bought only for the
orders received and guaranteed, but also for orders that are expected. Finished
products, as well as raw materials, begin to accumulate, in the stores, in the
warehouses and in the factories themselves. Industry begins to overproduce
without knowing it and without being in a position to know it in advance.
At a certain point a collapse takes place, and very
suddenly. Not enough buyers are to be found for the accumulated commodities of
one enterprise or industry. Because of over-production, supply exceeds demand.
Therefore, prices fall. If the enterprise is not ruined entirely by the fall in
prices, it is at least compelled to suspend production or to cut down
drastically. Workers are discharged or their wages reduced. Orders which the
enterprise previously placed with other concerns are reduced or canceled
altogether. Laid-off workers mean a reduction in the market of consumer goods.
Canceled orders means a reduction in the market of industrial consumption.
Each enterprise is connected with all the others by
thousands of ties. The collapse of one directly or indirectly, immediately or
soon, affects others, and they in turn affect still others, until virtually all
are involved. If, for example, automobile production declines, the production
of steel, coal, aluminum, brass, rubber, glass and all the others which were
dependent upon automobile production, also declines. There is in turn a decline
in production in the enterprises and industries which depended for their market
upon them.
Banking, which is inseparably connected with industry, is
stricken by the collapse. In the boom period there were large borrowings by
industries which were expanding to meet the rising market. With the fall of
prices, the collapse or retrenchment of enterprises, the latter are unable to
meet their obligations to the banks. What is more, individual depositors begin
to withdraw their funds, fearing a coming crisis or needing money because they
are now without work. The difficulties in the sphere of production, on one
side, and the difficulties in the sphere of finance, on the other, combine
meanwhile to upset or knock out entirely the small retailers and businessmen,
dragged down by large stock accumulations, loans they made to finance these
accumulations and falling prices.
Capitalist economy thus reaches the stage of crisis, which
it experiences periodically. It is the kind of crisis that occurs only under
capitalism, a crisis generated by over-production. Thousands of enterprises go
bankrupt. Industries slow down production or stop producing altogether.
Millions of workers are thrown on the street, without employment and without a
source of income, except, possibly, inadequate relief or unemployment
insurance. Plants do not operate because too many machines and too much raw
material have been produced! People cannot buy the food and clothing and home
furnishings they need because too much of them have been produced! Small
businessmen are ruined. Millions of workers go hungry. Their homes are lost.
Their family life becomes a nightmare of insecurity. Suffering and privation
spread like wildfire.
The inevitable result of capitalist production is capitalist
collapse. Production expands under capitalism only to come to a periodic
standstill. Crises of general over-production can be delayed in appearing, but
so long as capitalism exists they cannot be abolished.
The periodic crisis and collapse of production affects all
the classes of society, but in different ways and in different degrees. The
ruin of the middle classes is speeded up and strikes more and more of them. The
weak ones who are driven to the wall by the crisis end up in the ranks of the
working class. Their enterprises are absorbed by the more powerful capitalists,
who are able to weather the storm with greater ease. The higher standard of
living which the worker enjoyed during the “prosperity days” is “evened out,”
so to speak, in the days of crisis, depression and stagnation. The modest
savings with which he may have hoped to enjoy a comfortable old age, or which
he may have planned to use presently in order to “go into business for
himself,” are wiped out. The comforts and little luxuries he may have
accumulated during the boom – a partly-paid-for home, a good radio, an
automobile, time-and-back-saving electrical appliances for the home – must be
disposed of for a song during the crisis.
Just as the boom brings big capital the overwhelming bulk of
the benefits, in the form of stupendous profits, so the crisis brings the
working class the great bulk of the burdens. The capitalists have large
reserves, the workers have next to none. The capitalist class suffers some
losses, but on the whole it survives the crisis with comparative ease. The big
ones emerge from the crisis even stronger than before. While it rages, they
swallow up their smaller and weaker competitors. They enter the new boom period
with increased monopolistic strength. The crisis period shows most glaringly
how reactionary anti-outworn a social system is capitalism. It allows the
spectacle – what else can it do, being what it is? – of millions without work
who want to work, of millions without adequate food because there is too much
food, of industries shut down tight when there is just as urgent a need as ever
for industrial products. The consequences of production for profit, of
unplanned, unorganized, anarchic production, are shown in all their ugliness.
Capitalism refuses to resume production – because it cannot
– until it has been stimulated once more by the prospect of a profitable
market. It awaits the rise cold-bloodedly. Just as cold-bloodedly, it
undertakes the wholesale destruction of useful commodities. Crops are burned in
vast funeral pyres. Vegetables, coffee and other foodstuffs are dumped into the
sea and destroyed as though they were poisonous. Hundreds of thousands are paid
subsidies out of the public funds to “plow under,” to annihilate the precious
yield of agriculture – cotton, wool, corn, wheat, rice, fruit, tobacco, hogs,
sheep and cattle. Hunger stalks a land of plenty!
It is then we see the system in all its hideous absurdity,
as the great destroyer of social wealth, and of human happiness, security and
life itself. The wondrous productive machine which it developed and which, if
rationally organized, could easily supply the needs and comforts of all, proves
to be a mechanism that degrades the people to poverty, wretchedness, suffering
and every social iniquity.
In a rational, planned society, people released from tasks
in one sector of the economy could easily be found work turning out a new range
of goods elsewhere. But we do not live in a rational, planned society. People
only get new jobs in this society if the goods they make can be sold at a
profit. There are three ways in which they can be sold: as consumer goods (to
other workers), as capital goods (to the owners of other factories), or as
exports (to workers or factory owners abroad). If none of these three markets
is expanding, then you can make the most wonderful and useful things in the
world, and still end up on the dole queue.
Production can be
worked by plan, the people as a whole deciding what they need and producing a
sufficient supply to meet it. . Leisure could be used for creative development.
All could live a comfortable life. Service replacing profit, planning replacing
person whim, production could become both scientific and moral having for its
motive the provision of the means of well-being for all.
This age, marred by the private ownership of the means of
life, with all its crippling effects on science and industry with its immoral
emphasis on acquisition, and with it: inevitable consequence of wealth and
poverty, of class; distinctions and class discords, must go. The regulation of production must not be left
to the whim of individual producers, nor to groups of producers. That was why
the instruments of production must be vested in public, not private hands. The
interest of consumers and their need are the pivot around which productive
industry should and must revolve. Consumers must be consulted, and consumers'
needs must be ascertained. In proportion to the relative importance and urgency
of those needs, goods must be supplied. Data to gauge those needs must be
collected and then weighed need against need.
When it has been determined in which order and to what
extent the various needs are to be supplied, then orders can be issued to
producers specifying what commodities and in what quantities goods shall be
produced. In that way factory workers and groups of factory workers, peasants
and groups of peasants, will know what, where, and when to produce. There will
be no glut, because need has been gauged; no slump, no boom, no unemployment.
The Plan demanded, not only the ownership and control of all the resources of
production, but also that the pace of production should be speeded up, in order
that commodities of every kind might be available for distribution without
delay.