Showing posts with label catholic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label catholic. Show all posts

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Farm Ownership Linked With Trades Unions


by Reverend John LaFarge, S.J.


Consistently has America probed the causes which keep the labor situation in the United States in perpetual turmoil. It has insisted, in season and out of season, that the internal difficulties which the unions experience are not to be blamed upon the principle of trades-unionism in either form that it may take, whether of the industrial or of the crafts union. It believes that these difficulties are due to personal factors which can be remedied by a change of heart in certain leaders and by the education in the true concept of Christian trades-unionism of the great body of American labor. But another element in the trades-union situation must be reckoned with if trades-unionism is to be saved.

Speaking over the National Farm and Home Hour, William Green, president of the American Federation of Labor, declared that “the farmer’s welfare is labor’s welfare. The two are inseparable.” Mr. Green gave as the reason for his statement the “close and direct relationship” that exists between labor’s economy and the farmer’s economy. “This means that the buying power of the farmer depends directly upon the buying power of labor.” Large-scale agriculture, too, has produced a corresponding body of farm laborers, so that agricultural workers’ unions are now forming in fruit and vegetable farming, in beet growing, in onion growing, in large-scale dairies and in fruit and vegetable packing and canning.

It is not the alleged identity of interests between labor and agriculture which is our concern. Indeed, such an identity is vigorously denied by many prominent farm leaders who look upon such identification as mere propaganda for the proposed Farmer-Labor party. We are concerned with the danger to trades-unionism that was pointed out by Dr. Goetz Briefs of Georgetown University at the recent convention in Richmond, of the National Catholic Rural Life Conference: the formation of an ever-increasing wage-earning proletariat due to the vanishing ownership of the land.

The effect of this vanishing ownership, said Dr. Briefs, is to intensify to the point of madness the rivalries among wage-earners, and between wage-earners and their employers. It makes no difference whether it is an industrial or an agricultural wage-earner that is concerned. The bitterness and rivalry, with corresponding difficulty of reaching a solution increase as a greater and greater percentage of our citizens move into the purely wage-earning class, and thus swell the ranks of an eventual proletariat. The terrific pressure upon trades-unionism created by such a situation adds fuel to the flames of internecine labor disputes. A wider and wider area is opened up for the ambitions of organizers and organizations, and, worst of all, youth grows up conceiving of life only in terms of labor with no other idea of man’s temporal existence.

The Catholic Church appeals to charity and justice as the remedy for these disputes. But charity and justice belong to the supernatural order. They are gifts of Divine Grace, and Divine Grace builds upon nature. If that nature is to be restored, there must be a much greater equalization than now prevails between the two main types of wage-earning and the agrarian; and that can only be accomplished by the restoration of private property to the landless proletariat.

Growing tenantry is a sign of the proletarianizing process. In the rural districts, tenantry has increased from thirty-five per cent of the number of farms in 1900 to forty-five percent in 1935. As was shown by Dr. Edgar B. Schmiedeler, O.S.B., Director of the Catholic Rural Life Bureau of the N.C.W.C., this increased tenantry brings with it physical “erosion” of the farms, which are not cared for by those who do not own them; and social “erosion,” in the shape of irresponsible drifters; “vanishing liberty, since renters, like wage-earners, are not the free people that owners are.” But more threatening than that, it means the continuing of the ranks of competing industrial job seekers in the cities.

The Most Rev. Edwin V. O’Hara, Bishop of Great Falls, father of the Catholic Rural Life Conference, resumed recent Papal teaching as: “First, wide diffusion of privately owned property in land; secondly, the ownership of the land by those who operate it; and, thirdly, the desirability of the family-sized farms as opposed to the larger holdings on which farm laborers were little better than serfs.”

How can all this be brought about? The yearly discussions of the Catholic Rural Life Conference have crystallized certain ideas. The opinion has been very positively formed that no amount of mere economic allurement will attach people to the land who are at present disaffected from it. Farming may be made an attractive business for some of the higher-ups in the cotton or the wheat or the dairying oligarchy, or in the large-scale trucking enterprises, but though some way may be devised to make it yield a good living for the little farmers, the multitudes will not be attracted to farming merely because of its paying facilities. Nor will the multitudes be won by any back to the land mysticism, however it may appeal to individuals. Land as a mere money-making agent, or land as an end in itself, does not offer a sufficiently powerful and reliable incentive. People will only learn to appreciate the land and to value land ownership when they look upon it as an instrument; an instrument given to man by the Creator Himself, but an instrument primarily for a spiritual purpose, and only secondarily for the purpose of commercial or monetary profit.

This spiritual purpose is the sustenance and the physical permanence of the farm home, as the seat of the Christian family. This was put very plainly by the Most Rev. Aloysius J. Muench, Bishop of Fargo, as the fifth of six points with which he summed up the topic of religion and rural welfare: “The principles of social justice, effective tenancy legislation, etc., must have their first point in the farm home. The farmstead as a homestead must be cherished as the priceless social institute in the land.”

In a public address a few days before the Richmond meeting, the Soviet Ambassador to the United States, Alexander Troyanovsky, flung down a challenge to the principle of widely distributed, family-sized land ownership as the foundation for a healthy economic life in the nation. It is impossible, said Mr. Troyanovsky, to apply modern technique to the small-sized or family farm. Modern agricultural technique requires large-scale farming, and this means that the only course for American farming is to become collective. That Soviet statement is simply contrary to fact. Where the local community is organized on a cooperative basis, small farms can enjoy every bit of the modern technical facilities—mechanical, electric, biological, etc.,—as are enjoyed in any collective or large-scale enterprise. As was stated by the Conference in a resolution that drew general applause: “We must retain fee-simple ownership of land in small parcels and make technology and scientific research serve this type of land tenure.” A pioneer spirit can use twentieth-century methods.

Behind the Soviet challenge, however, lay a threat of a much deeper nature, a threat that hangs like a cloud over our congressional deliberations at the present time, to the effect that only rigid governmental control can restrain the domination of large-scale farming, curb wasteful competition and greed, and afford sufficient protection to the small farmer. Hence the farmer is confronted with only two entrees on his menu: virtual dictatorship or ruinous laissez-faire. To this challenge we reply:

First, that an immense amount can (and must) be done by the Government, State as well as Federal, to encourage distributed land-ownership and the useful organization of rural economy which does not fall into the class of rigid control or virtual dictatorship. As Bishop Muench noted in the third of his six points, the state can “safeguard the farmers’ interests in the sale of property so that that acquisition of private property is possible.” Taxes can favor small-scale ownership without invading the rights of individuals or destroying all private initiative. Taxation, said Senator Arthur Capper of Kansas at the recent opening of Congress, should favor the family-size farm. Governmental credit can be organized to help the small owner quite as much as the large.

Second, the amount that can be accomplished in this direction by voluntary effort is woefully underestimated. An experiment like that of Father Ligutti in Granger, Iowa, would have been thought utterly impracticable a few years ago. Yet Father Ligutti’s Slavs and Italians have demonstrated a high degree of self-subsistence and skillful utilization of modern technical resources within a framework provided for them through Federal aid. Other experiments spring up daily, all of them in one form or another teaching that no limit has yet been found to the efficacy of cooperation on Christian—not on merely materialistic—lines. The surface of cooperation between city and country groups, between producer and consumer, on a voluntary and regional basis, has hardly been scratched. How many charitable individuals, for instance, in our large cities, have experimented in a most eminently practical form of cooperation, that of making loans, on long-term payments, to young families starting life in the country? Incredibly little has been done in the field of voluntary international cooperation. We talk of export and surpluses as if these things were decreed by the gods on Olympus. Yet they are amenable to voluntary understandings which transcend governmental lines.

At the present time I know of at least one Catholic rural community which is trying to organize itself upon a cooperative basis. Pastor and Sisters are leading in the work. The community is in the East, and is fairly accessible to large centres. Let us suppose that a city Catholic, with some means and some leisure, were to interest himself in the affairs of such a community, were to spend a certain part of his time therein, study on the spot its possibilities for the exemplification of the Christian cooperative, confer with the local men and women who are trying to put the program across, and extend a certain amount of practical aid to the initial ventures—what an immense amount of good could be accomplished for the Catholic social program! Why should a community of decent, self-respecting people, of our own Faith, be obliged always to choose between the dismal alternatives of starting from absolute scratch, or else applying for Federal bounties which are granted only upon rigidly specified lines, entail heavy obligations and dependencies, and, anyhow, do not touch this sort of effort.

While I was writing this paragraph, Father McGoey, of Toronto, dropped in, who has accomplished such wonders in establishing his forty practically self-sustaining families, with their 241 souls, upon the land. He sees a plenty of ways which an intelligent, city Catholic can aid such a rural community. He can help the cooperatives to finance their project. He can help provide outlets in the city, such as a consumer’s organization, for the community’s produce. He can assist the rural community in getting books and furniture for a rural library. But the useful task of all, in Father McGoey’s opinion, for the city person, is to bring the rural dweller to a better appreciation of his own opportunities. This he can do best if he is himself a man who has made a successful career of city life, and so can add realism to his own comparisons.

Finally, it seems to me that we vastly underestimate, in this, as in other matters pertaining to social justice, the immense efficacy of a widespread popular education in the principles of a right order. Were our Catholic periodicals—speaking of Catholics alone—and our Catholic lecturers and preachers and professors of sociology and economics throughout the country to unite upon a wide and general program of educating the American as to the evils of proletarianism, the necessity of distributed private ownership and the family social unit, the nature and efficacy of Christian cooperation and Christian cooperatives, the possibilities, spiritual cultural of Catholic parish life, a definite brake would be put upon the centralizing and depersonalizing theories of agrarian economy which are now invading political circles. The majority of thinking farm leaders welcome these basic truths when they are explained to them. “We simply must accept your Catholic family-economics program,” said the non-Catholic President of a secular college in conversation with a delegate to the Richmond convention. We have had, I believe, altogether too much agrarian defeatism. Let us begin to market the harvest of knowledge which alone can stop the Bolshevist weed from springing up and choking industry and agriculture to death.


From America Magazine (1937)
Farm Ownership Linked With Trades Unions: The Catholic plan replies to a Soviet challenge

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Thursday, December 25, 2008

Thrift! Thrift! Thrift!

From: America Magazine (March 19th, 1938)





Has thrift become a forgotten virtue since the depression began? One school of economists advises us to purchase all we can, because that will stimulate business. When the number of purchasers falls, goods will be manufactured in smaller volume, fewer workers will be needed, and the period of unemployment will be extended. A depression, they argue, is not the time to hoard. Every dollar should be put to work, and a dollar cannot work when it is kept under a loose brick in the hearth.

No doubt there is a sense in which this advice is excellent. One of the best ways the rich have of helping the poor, Pius XI tells us in the Encyclical On the Reconstruction of the Social Order, is to invest in enterprises which will give the poor profitable work. Those who are not rich can help in their degree by making purchases as they are needed. But this advice should be tempered; purchases should not be made unless they are needed. In a recent number of This Week Mrs. William Brown Meloney tells of an interview with the late President Coolidge a few months before his death. The President was in a happy mood, but his face became serious as he said fidelity to four maxims had “made New England great.” These maxims were: “Eat it up. Wear it out. Make it do. Do without.”

The tale points a moral. We have all known families who lived very comfortably on $2,400 per year, but felt themselves in real need shortly after the annual stipend rose to $4,800. The trouble was not that the purchasing power of the dollar decreased, but that the family’s supposed needs increased out of all proportion. In their new surroundings, they neither ate it up, wore it out, made it do, or did without. The acquisition of more money did not make them happier. It made them discontented.

A sermon on thrift during this depression may seem a sermon preached out of due time. Yet if thrift is a virtue when the times are prosperous, it can hardly be a vice when we are all poor together. The only danger is that the thrift which is now imposed upon us by lack of means, may make us sour and discontented, just as increasing wealth does in days of plenty. Fifty years ago in thousands of American homes, children were taught to look upon food as a gift of the good God to make them well and strong. Hence it was “wrong” not to eat it all. To put it aside on the plea of “I don’t like it,” or “I want something else,” was not tolerated. Similarly little girls were taught to darn their stockings, not to throw them away when worn, and many a little boy went to school in neatly patched clothes. All this was a valuable training in making it do, or doing without.

Certainly there is plenty of poverty today, the result of causes which offend God, causes which cannot be attributed to the poor themselves. But we also fear that there is a poverty which is not real poverty, but only the poverty of people who once had two cars but must now put up with one.

“Keeping up with the Joneses,” is an unhappy social philosophy which was not swept away by the depression. Too few of us are willing to pray the prayer of the Wise Man who asked neither destitution nor riches, but just enough to live on. What we want is enough to live on in ease and comfort.

“A certain amount of comfort,” translates Prior McNabb, O.P. from St. Thomas’ De Regimine Principum, i, 15, “is necessary for the practice of virtue.” When the head swims from weariness, and the stomach is empty, and the rent unpaid, it is extremely difficult to regard the world with sentiments of overflowing kindliness. It is the duty of every man to do all he can to abate this excessive poverty (and still more destitution) and it is the duty of the state to supplement these private efforts with all the power at its command. At the same time, it is the duty of the individual bread-winner to practice thrift as well as patience.

We like to think that the great Saint whose feast we celebrate today was a thrifty man. The home at Nazareth was not a rich home, but we are sure that by foresight and thrift Saint Joseph always managed to provide enough for his holy Spouse and her Divine Son. May he help us all in these hard days to procure enough for those whom we love, and whatever befalls us, to live always in the spirit of Jesus and Mary.

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Sunday, December 21, 2008

An Excerpt From Foundations of a Catholic Political Order



by Thomas Storck

[Editor's note: We thank Thomas Storck for granting permission to reprint an excerpt from his out-of-print book, Foundations of a Catholic Political Order. Mr. Storck will represent The Society for Distributism at next year's debate, Catholicism and Economics.]


...if we have food and clothing, with these we shall be content. But those who desire to be rich fall in temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and hurtful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all evils; it is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced their hearts with many pangs. I Tim. 6:8-10

Come now, you rich, weep and howl for the miseries that are coming upon you. Your riches have rotted and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver have rusted, and their rust will be evidence against you and will eat your flesh like fire. James 5:1-3a


From these as well as other passages in both the Old and New Testaments we ought to be able to see clearly that there is some sort of a problem in regard to riches and moneymaking. Quite obviously the problem is complex and cannot be reduced to saying that all the rich are evil and will end up in Hell nor that the desire for material goods is evil. Neither of these statements is true. Neither, however, can Christians accept the modern world’s attitude toward riches and material things, an attitude which fails to see that there is anything to be troubled about. Catholicism, when it has been free to be true to itself, has always set up safeguards around the activities connected with money and the accumulation of wealth, safeguards for the common good and health of the community, as well as for the spiritual safety of the individual possessor of wealth himself, precisely because the Church knows the weakness of man and his propensity to sin.

Because of the original disaster that affects all of Adam’s descendants, man tends to disorder, his appetites tend to revolt against his reason. We see this clearly in reference to our sexual appetites, but perhaps twentieth-century Catholics do not see this quite as clearly in regard to our appetite for pecuniary gain as did our medieval fathers in the Faith. Moreover, I think that we have not always well understood what it is about our sexual appetites that is disorderly. Some, I fear, have tended to see sexual desire as in a class by itself, either somehow inherently evil, or at least tainted. But this is not the correct way of looking at the matter, for the problem is not in our sexual desire itself, but in the entire integration of our human nature.

Man’s sexual appetite and all that naturally goes with it were quite obviously created by God, and thus share in the original Divine approbation, “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good,” Genesis 1:31. They were created for a purpose, namely to bring new human beings into the world, and ultimately into Heaven, in cooperation with Almighty God. What is wrong with our sexual appetite today, and indeed since the Fall, is that the appetite tends toward objects with whom it is impossible to obtain the end for which that appetite was given to us, that is, to beget children and bring up those children in the circle of a loving family. Our sexual desire, one of our concupiscible appetites, is indiscriminate and blind in its wants. Instead of being readily subordinate to its controlling purpose, the begetting and subsequent rearing of children, it simply wants what it wants. In the state of original justice the intellect easily ruled over all subordinate aspects of man, and thus would effortlessly have directed a man’s sexual desire exclusively toward his spouse, but since Adam’s sin this has not been the case. In our present condition we must all struggle to subject the concupiscible appetites to the rule of reason. But in this hard work of ruling our blind appetites we do not do anything against what is natural for us. We were created with reason as the ruling element in us and it is impossible to make sense of human beings in any other way; thus to restrain our blind desires within the bounds of reason, though at times a bitter effort, is simply to live as is natural to man, in fact, to live according to nature.

A similar thing is true of our desire for material things, which is the basis for man’s economic activity and all that goes with it. Since we have bodies we need material things, and this would have been true had the Fall never occurred. But instead of asking why we need material things, we make them ends in themselves, not means toward allowing us to cultivate what is important in life, namely, our spiritual lives, our intellectual lives, our family and social lives. As with our sexual appetite, our desire for money and material goods is now more or less indiscriminate and inordinate in its wants. But also as with our sexual appetite, our appetite for material goods was created for an end. Material goods exist for the sake of the more important aspects of our lives. Such goods are good only to the extent that they facilitate our easier attainment of spiritual, intellectual, family and social goods, just as sexual activity is good to the extent it furthers one of the three ends of marriage. And just as the sexual appetite run out of bounds hurts not only the individuals involved but the entire community, the same is true of our appetite for economic gain. Adam Smith notwithstanding, it is not the case that if each man seeks his own gain to the utmost the community will necessarily benefit thereby. History as well as common sense teach otherwise.

One of the main reasons why this is so hard for many otherwise orthodox Catholics to grasp today is, I think, that we have been so accustomed to attacks on free-market capitalism coming from socialists and communists, that we assume only they can have anything bad to say about our economic system. But just as the logic of looking at our sexual appetite and the role it ought to play in human affairs according to its own nature, leads us to conclude that man must put many restraints on his sexual conduct, which at the time feel as if they were going against his nature, but in reality are fulfilling that nature, in a similar fashion, if we ask ourselves fundamental questions about man’s capacity for and need of material goods, and look honestly at the disruptive effect unrestrained economic activity has on human society, we are led to propose strong curbs, curbs which indeed are different from those proposed by socialists, but which are equally contrary to our present system and to the desires of unrestrained greed.

If any Catholic is disposed to dispute this line of argument, then I would point out two different things which confirm what I have said. The first is the practice of medieval Christendom. The attitude toward economic activity that obtained in Europe during the Middle Ages was vastly different from our own. The following from Richard Tawney conveys some idea of the medieval outlook:

Material riches are necessary; they have a secondary importance, since without them men cannot support themselves and help one another; the wise ruler, as St. Thomas said, will consider in founding his State the natural resources of the country. But economic motives are suspect. Because they are powerful appetites, men fear them, but they are not mean enough to applaud them. Like other strong passions, what they need, it is thought, is not a clear field, but repression. There is no place in medieval theory for economic activity which is not related to a moral end, and to found a science of society upon the assumption that the appetite for economic gain is a constant and measurable force, to be accepted, like other natural forces, as an inevitable and self-evident datum would have appeared to the medieval thinker as hardly less irrational or less immoral than to make the premise of social philosophy the unrestrained operation of such necessary human attributes as pugnacity or the sexual instinct

Tawney continues with his description of medieval economic ethics,

At every turn, therefore, there are limits, restrictions, warnings, against allowing economic interests to interfere with serious affairs. It is right for a man to seek such wealth as is necessary for a livelihood in his station. To seek more is not enterprise, but avarice, and avarice is a deadly sin. Trade is legitimate; the different resources of different countries show that it was intended by Providence. But it is a dangerous business. A man must be sure that he carries it on for the public benefit, and that the profits which he takes are no more than the wages of his labor.


How unbelievably different is our modern attitude. With us not only is trade in goods no longer held to be a dangerous activity, but we see no problem even in trade in such nebulous things as commodity futures contracts! It is difficult to fully fathom the huge differences in our mentality from that of the medievals. Most Englishspeaking Catholics are infected to a greater or lesser extent with the modern and unchristian conception of economic life. Christopher Dawson sums up this modern attitude thus:

In the lands where these [new, non-Catholic] ideals had free play — Holland, Great Britain, above all New England, a new type of character was produced, canny, methodical and laborious; men who lived not for enjoyment but for work, who spent little and gained much, and who looked on themselves as unfaithful stewards before God, if they neglected any opportunity of honest gain.


The second thing to which I would appeal in confirmation of the line of argument I am making, is the corpus of modern papal teaching on the economy. As is well known, this body of doctrine began with the encyclical Rerum Novarum of Leo XIII in 1891 and, as of this writing, has continued down to Centesimus Annus of John Paul II in 1991. Though diverse, in that they were for the most part addressing the immediate needs of widely varying situations — the economy of 1891 is not that of 1931 nor yet that of today — nevertheless several basic themes can be discerned.

From the beginning, with Rerum Novarum, the Popes have made it clear that the economic system must serve mankind, and from this it follows that any particular economic arrangements must be judged on how well they in fact are serving the human race. Secondly, they have also pointed out again and again that it will always be necessary to bring other factors into the ordering of our economic affairs besides mere free competition. Some kind of legal framework is necessary to make sure that human goods are given their proper respect. One cannot depend either on the blind forces of the market or enlightened self-interest or even individual rectitude.

Now the purpose of the restraints on economic activity which this attitude demands is twofold. On the one hand, if the activities of moneymaking and the accumulation of external goods are firmly put in their place, men will be able to concentrate on what is really of importance in life. Men of good will, who in a capitalistic economy and society might devote too much of their energies to material things and even get entirely caught up in them, will be deterred from this not only by the explicit teaching of the Church, but also by that of the state and of all organs of society, such as educational institutions and publications, as well as by regulations firmly administered, which aim to prevent the beginnings of wrongdoing in these matters. These same regulations, on the other hand, backed by appropriate sanctions, will also help to forestall the actions of truly bad men, who would otherwise harm their fellows and the society as a whole.

Though no one can expect this apparatus to work perfectly, its aim is to uphold the common good by helping to enforce a notion of society that puts the general welfare first. Elsewhere Christopher Dawson notes that the traditional monarchies in Europe “had striven to keep the several orders of the polity within their appointed limits, to maintain the corporative system in industry, to regulate wages and prices, and to protect the peasants from eviction and enclosures.” This conception of society does not especially value some notions that are dear to Americans, such as continuous improvement in one’s standard of living or the chance to get rich. But it does aim to allow everyone to have at least enough, and to further ensure the maintenance of that social peace which is necessary if we are to apply ourselves to those things which are truly important. For if material goods exist only for the sake of other and non-material things, and if money in turn exists only for the sake of material goods, then money is twice removed from what is valuable in human life. But how a Catholic state actually tries to realize such an approach to living is the subject of the following sections of this chapter.

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Monday, January 28, 2008

Social Credit: Not Socialism Not a Political Party

by Editors of Michael's Journal

Not Socialism


Because of the word social in the term “Social Credit”, some people erroneously assume it to be a form of Socialism, and automatically reject it. On the contrary, Social Credit is the best way to fight Socialism and Communism, and to protect private property and individual freedom. A Dominican Father, who had studied the Social Credit proposals, even wrote: “And if you want neither Socialism nor Communism, bring Social Credit in array against them. It will be in your hands a powerful weapon with which to fight these enemies.”

And in 1939, a Commission of nine theologians appointed by the Bishops of Quebec found that Social Credit was not tainted with Socialism nor Communism, and was worthy of close attention. In fact, Social Credit wants to make every member of society a real capitalist, a shareholder in the wealth of the country. If the expression “social” credit scares some people, Douglas's financial proposals can also be referred to under other names: public credit, economic democracy, or New Economics.

Not a political party

Concerning the issue of political parties, it is true that parties called “Social Credit” existed in the past, and that is why some people may be confused: a “Social Credit” party existed on the federal scene in Canada for a while, and was even in power in the Province of Alberta, Canada, from 1935 to 1971, and in the Province of British Columbia, from 1952 to 1991 (except for three years, from 1972 to 1975). None of these provincial parties applied Social Credit. (The very day he took office as premier in 1952, Bennett, B.C. “Social Credit” leader, even said that his party would do absolutely nothing to apply Social Credit principles. Actually, there was nothing even closely related to real Social Credit in this party or its platform; it should have been more accurately called “conservative”.)

The fact is that there is no need for a so-called “Social Credit” party to have C. H. Douglas's Social Credit principles implemented. These principles can be applied by any political party presently in office, whatever its name — Liberal, Conservative, etc. Some people may have thought that promoting “Social Credit” parties was the better way to promote Social Credit, but C. H. Douglas and Louis Even thought exactly the opposite.

As Douglas and Louis Even pointed out, the creation of “Social Credit” parties was even a nuisance, and did nothing but to prevent the implementation of real Social Credit. For example, as soon as you use the words “Social Credit” to name a political party, you just close the minds of people of other parties to even study Social Credit, since they will consider it only as another party to be fought.

Real democracy means that elected representatives are sent to Parliament precisely to represent their constituents, and to express the will of their constituents. So the point is not to create new parties, and divide the people even more, but to unite the people around common objectives, and then to put pressure on the Government to implement these objectives. This method of pressure politics is the one advocated by the Michael Journal.

In a speech given to Social Crediters on March 7, 1936, Douglas said: “If you agree that the object of sending a set of men to Parliament is to get what you want, then why elect a special set of men, a special party at all? The men who are there should get you what you want — that is their business. It is not their business to say how it is to be got... How things are done is the responsibility of the expert.”

On the same occasion, Douglas said that the idea that a Social Credit party should exist (in any country) was a “profound misconception”. He even added: “If you elect a Social Credit party, supposing you could, I may say that I regard the election of a Social Credit party in this country as one of the greatest catastrophes that could happen... (It) would be to elect a set of amateurs to direct a set of very competent professionals. The professionals, I may tell you, would see that the amateurs got the blame for everything that was done.” This is precisely what happened in Alberta in the 1930s. (Douglas wrote a very interesting book on that subject, entitled “The Alberta Experiment”, from which the following information is taken.)

The Alberta experiment

William Aberhart was a principal of Calgary High School, who commanded a province-wide audience every Sunday with his religious broadcasts. He came across a book on Social Credit and, being so carried away by this new light, he began to use his radio program to preach the “gospel” of Social Credit, and to mobilize support for it. Hundreds of study groups soon appeared across the province, and a majority of Albertans became in favour of Social Credit. The ruling party in Alberta at the time, the United Farmers, was also open to Social Credit, but said that it could only be applied nation-wide, and not provincially. Aberhart disagreed, and decided to present Social Credit candidates in the 1935 provincial election, and he captured 56 of the 63 seats in the provincial legislature. They were all new to politics, being a “set of amateurs”, and were no match for the Financiers.

For example, when Aberhart took office, instead of listening to Douglas's advice, he went to Ottawa to seek financial assistance, and an economic adviser, Mr. Robert Magor, was given to him. This Mr. Magor had obviously only one objective in mind: to discredit Social Credit. Measures were adopted that were just the opposite of Social Credit, and that is what Douglas called “a policy of capitulation to orthodox finance... Almost every mistake of strategy which could be made in Alberta had been made.”

It must also be mentioned that Aberhart, although sincere enough, had also little knowledge of Social Credit, and did not understand its technical basis, which led him, in an effort to simplify Douglas's ideas, to often distort them. In the following years, fifteen Social Credit bills were voted on by the Alberta Government, but vetoed by higher authorities (either disallowed by the Federal Government, or ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court).

One point of contention was obviously that money and banking was under federal jurisdiction, according to the Canadian Constitution. Douglas explained to Aberhart that Alberta could bypass this difficulty by making use of its own credit by establishing a provincial credit system, since the Constitution grants to the provinces the right to “raise loans upon the sole credit of the Province.” As Douglas wrote in The Social Crediter of September 11, 1948: “When Mr. Aberhart won his first electoral victory (in 1935), all he did was to recruit an army for a war (against the monopoly of credit). That war has never been fought.”

Aberhart had learned from his mistakes during his first years in office, and was ready, after World War II, to take up the fight again, but he unfortunately died in May, 1943. His successor, Ernest Manning, soon made it clear that he was not prepared to take up that fight again, and finally declared, in 1947, that his government would no longer do anything to implement Social Credit in Alberta. (Incidentally, after retiring from politics, Ernest Manning became a director of a bank.)

So those who say that “Social Credit is that funny money scheme tried in Alberta, where it failed”, are dead wrong. Social Credit did not fail in Alberta, for the simple reason that it was never tried: all the attempts to implement Social Credit policies were opposed and defeated by a centralized power. As Douglas said, if Social Credit was absurd and worthless as an effective answer to the Great Depression of the period, the best way to have this demonstrated would have been to permit the Government of Alberta to go ahead with a Social Credit policy. The credit monopolists feared that even a partial application of Social Credit would prove so successful that every effort had to be made to prevent this from taking place.

* * *

The only effective way to have the Social Credit proposals implemented by governments is therefore not to promote so-called “social credit” parties, but to make Social Credit principles known to the population — by distributing our Michael leaflets, and, above all, to solicit subscriptions to our Michael Journal — in order to create a public pressure that will be strong enough to get the government — of any party — of our country to issue its own money, debt free, and to implement Douglas's Social Credit principles.

We firmly believe that the Social Credit principles, once implemented, would be a very efficacious way to eliminate poverty (in the countries in which they are implemented). For the first time in history, absolute economic security, without restrictive conditions, would be guaranteed to each and every individual. So, dear reader, go ahead and study the following pages. You will find them most enlightening. Our hope is that this study will get you to take action to make this Social Credit solution known to your fellow countrymen, in order to create a public pressure that will be strong enough to get the government of your country to issue its own money, debt free, and to implement Douglas’s Social Credit principles.

The editors
Rougemont, March 1, 1996

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Monday, January 21, 2008

The Home as a Spiritual Center

by Michal Semin





One of the main reasons the totalitarian forces of the modern era virulently attack the family is because the home was, is, and God willing, will remain, a place of the most fundamental religious and spiritual life. The modern agnostic state wishes to step between the parents that might still cling to some outdated prejudices of the "opium of masses" and the children, thus securing the transfer of the children’s loyalty from their parents to the alien tutors coming from outside the home. This process can be tracked well before our time. In earlier centuries, the family and the home were the natural place for wholesale formation, both secular and religious. The Church always had a role in supervising the parents in both their daily theoretical and practical catechesis, but it was always the orbit of home that provided the setting for learning, praying, and growing in virtue.

With the advent of modern democracy, the primary place of formation changed. Compulsory schooling was erected, work became driven out of home, and with the rise of the doctrine of the rights of the individual, the family slowly but steadily was dissolving into a group of individuals all pursuing their own visions of life and career. The society became more and more leveled to one common denominator–the primacy of the individual–and the family little by little became subjected to the state by indoctrinating the children in the false sciences and philosophies of modern man. In the words of Solange Hertz, "where everyone is equal and one size fits all, democratic absurdities have free play." Mother and father became equal–read "same"–and the family was soon changed from ecclesiola headed by the father to a democraciola headed by no one.

A little bit of Catholic theology: Tampering with the family and its place in the created order bounds with sacrilege, for the home is a figure on earth of the Godhead in heaven. God is one, but He is not one Person. God is a FAMILY of three Persons, which are the source of all that is. Fashioned after the Trinitarian model, the human family generates because the Godhead generates. "Shall not I that make others to bring forth, myself bring forth, saith the Lord? Shall I, that give generation to others, be barren?" (Isa. 66:9). In their order of being, the human trinity of father, mother, and child represents the three divine Persons who dwell as one in the Most Blessed Trinity as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. A particular reason why Satan, the fallen angel of the highest order, persecutes and wants to destroy the family is because the human family reflects the Divine Family. Also, Lucifer’s ambition "to be like God" was unrealizable by the very nature of his angelic constitution. We never speak of families of angels, but only of "choirs," for there is no other affiliation between them. Each was created as if he were a species in himself, whereas every man since Adam, patterned on the Sacred Humanity of Christ, comes into being as part of a family. In other words, God’s image is found not only in man as an individual person, but it is also reflected in his family relations.

Here we find a special reason why Christ has elevated human marriage to the level of a sacrament. The family is not only the building block of society, that is a fundamental unit in the natural order, but also the building block of the supranatural order, that is the Church. In the words of Pope Pius XI in his encyclical on Christian marriage Casti Connubii: "But Christian parents must also understand that they are destined not only to propagate and preserve the human race on earth, indeed not only to educate any kind of worshippers of the true God, but children who are to become members of the Church of Christ, to raise up fellow-citizens of the Saints, and members of God’s household, that the worshippers of God and Our Savior may daily increase." The family is, therefore, not only the source of the State, but the source of the Church as well, whose Mother is the Virgin Mary and whose Paterfamilias is her husband St. Joseph. Their divine Son is the Mystical Body in all its members.

Now comes the last theological note: the union of husband and wife is the extension of the union of Christ and His Church; the household becomes what tradition calls ecclesia domestica, the domestic church. With husbands loving their wives as Christ loves the Church with wives subject to their husbands as the Church is subject to Christ, both are charged with implementing in their common life their daily petition to the Father: "Thy Kingdom come!"

From this theological reflection we can more easily understand not only the natural benefits of healthy and stable family life, but especially its religious character.

The wholesale secularization of modern life with all its social evils goes hand in hand with the secularization of family. The family disconnected from God finds itself in a spiritual vacuum. For this is not something that she can bear for a long time; she either finds the resources for an authentic revival or falls apart generating chaos of monstrous proportions.

What practical steps has the Catholic family to consider in order to become again a source of hope for our future? I propose the following three (though I am fully aware that much more can be added to these):

1. Sanctification of Sunday.

2. Fathers regaining the role of heads of the family and leaders of the family’s religious life.

3. Regular celebrations of religious feasts.

1) Christian Sunday (Dies Dominica, Kyri·kÈ) is threatened more and more both from without and from within–from without through the systematic efforts of the enemies of Christianity and from within through the mediocrity and superficiality of the Christians themselves who are making of Sunday merely a day of rest, relaxing from work only by seeking entertainment. Let us remind ourselves with the words of the prophet Osee: "I shall cause all her joy to cease, her feast days and her Sabbath, and all her solemn feasts." The words of Pope Pius XII in his encyclical Mediator Dei sound a similar warning: "How will those Christians not fear spiritual death, whose rest on Sundays and feast days is not devoted to religion and piety, but given over to the allurements of the world! Sundays and holidays (holy days!) must be made holy by divine worship which gives homage to God and heavenly food to the soul....Our soul is filled with the greatest grief when we see how the Christian people profane the afternoon of feast days...."

Sunday must become again the day of the Lord, the day of adoration, of prayer, of rest, of recollection and of reflection, of happy reunion in the intimate circle of the family. Sunday encompasses two main things: first, the fatherhood of God. God is obviously the center of this day. That is why we are obliged to go to Mass, to the Holy Sacrifice, and we are to desist from servile labor, put it aside in order to be freed up to that which is more sublime and spiritual, to liberate mind and soul. The denial of sanctifying Sunday comes to be a denial of Resurrection because Christian Sunday is a continuance of the apostles’ meeting on the day of the Resurrection, which is the keystone of our Faith. Sunday is the day which conquers death.

Second: it is a day to be together as family of God’s children. A little reflection for dads: to desist from labor does not mean to sleep on the couch, obviously. Sometimes it is enormously difficult, after a week of intense work, we naturally seek, at least most of us, privacy, seclusion, tranquility. Here, however, is our family waiting for us, the wife andthe children want to be with us. If we evade that, we are going to lose our family, we are going to lose our children. It is all very simple. It is a question of investment of time. At the end of the 20th century there is nothing in the society which is going to help us to do this well. They are going to make us work 70 hours a week, and when we come home on Sunday, the only day we may have some freedom, we are just too tired. This is the absolute must, even if it is only on sheer will power and we force ourselves on our last lag of energy, we must invest our time with this family we have been given.

2) A fatherless Western society is one of our most urgent social problems. Over the past 200 years, fathers have moved from the center to the fringe of family life. The industrial revolution and the modern economy have taken men out of their families, and the vacuum has been filled by a steady feminization of the home. Increasingly, says Fr. Kenneth Novak in the foreword to an excellent book Fatherhood and Family, men have looked outside the home for the meaning of their maleness. Masculinity has become less domesticated, defined less by effective fatherhood and more by individual ambition and achievement. The role of fatherhood, continues Fr. Novak, has been diminished in three ways. First, it has become smaller. Fewer things are defined as a father’s distinctive work. Secondly, fatherhood has been devalued. Third, and most important, fatherhood has been decultured–stripped of any authoritative social content or definition. It castrates fathers from being the builders and preservers of Catholic culture.

How is this related to the religious life of the family? Too often it becomes a fact of family life that the one who leads the prayers is the mother and not father. The reasons for that are obvious. Mom spends most of the time with the children and during the day she prays with them and teaches them faith and good manners. It becomes a problem, however, when this evolves in excluding father from taking a decisive part in the religious life of the family. St. Augustin has a whole sermon on this, that the role of the father in a family is analogous to the role of the bishop in the diocese or the parish priest in his parish. This all derives from the notion of parenthood invested with authority over the entrusted flock. This authority, obviously, is rooted in Christian love which prepares one to lose his own life for the salvation of souls of those given to him. It is a sad but interesting fact, which proves my point here, that along with the crisis in fatherhood in the family, there is a serious crisis of priesthood in the Church. Eliminative celibacy, ordaining women to the priesthood, and lay involvement in liturgy all has very much to do with the blurring of the identity of fatherhood.

It is crucial that men and women realize the importance of father’s role in the family, including its religious aspect. Father is to be again the magister in his household. As the master he is invested with authority to teach, he has a teaching office; he should read the catechism, he should kneel down and pray with his children. To this I want to add one important note on family prayer: Pray together! Too many parents send their children into bed and tell them "don’t forget your night prayers." What develops is that "prayers are for children" and when children think they are grown up at 13 or 14, they are not going to pray anymore, because mom and dad don’t pray.

French Cardinal Pie, inspiration to the saintly Pope Pius X, says in his Christmas Homily in 1871 the following words:

Is not ours an age of mislived lives, of unmanned men? Why?...Because Jesus Christ has disappeared. Wherever the people are true Christians, there are men to be found in large numbers, but everywhere and always, if Christianity wilts, the men wilt. Look closely, they are no longer men but shadows of men. Thus what do you hear on all sides today. The world is dwindling away, for lack of men; the nations are perishing for scarcity of men, for the rareness of men...I do believe: there are no men where there is no character; there is no character where there are no principles, doctrines, stands taken; there are no stands taken, no doctrines, no principles, where there is no religious faith and consequently no religion of society. Do what you will: only from God you will get men.


3) In addition to nourishing themselves with prayers and the sacraments, families need to erect defenses. Especially in the early stages of a child’s development, it is necessary to shelter them from the world’s most undesirable influences. A child can be compared to a tomato plant, which must be sheltered from the elements until it grows to a larger size. We could spend days talking about the dangers of T.V., bad music and ugly (false) "art" and the importance of the encounter with beauty in good music and true art. Fortunately, the Catholic Faith provides a rich treasure chest of devotions, traditions, feast days, literature and so on. This treasure chest provides families with an alternative to the world’s false attractions. It has many of the resources a family needs for spiritual sustenance. The primary means for using the goods of the treasure chest is to live one’s life around the Church calendar. Medieval European life included a rich tapestry of feasts, holy days, processions and pilgrimages. Although traces of this great civilization remain, most of its glorious heritage has been forgotten. The importance of living one’s life as much as possible around the Church calendar cannot be exaggerated. It feeds the souls, vanquishes any tendency for day-to-day life to become monotonous, adds joy and fun to family life. The Church calendar can be observed on two levels. At the general or macro level, a theme can be observed for each month of the liturgical year. At a more detailed or micro level, Catholics are blessed with an abundance of saints days and other feasts such as the the Feast of Christ the King. With so many available feast days, a family should not attempt to be too ambitious, but should select perhaps three or four feasts each month to celebrate. When celebrating feast days, it is necessary to balance serious and more light-hearted activities. Both build a child’s love of the Faith.

Also, it is very instructive and helpful to have religious articles in your home. They can be a great help in your daily battles. They may reflect the liturgical year and upcoming feasts and lead the whole family to live a life integrated and deeply rooted in Faith. What we believe has to be practiced and presented to our senses. That is the way God created us, so we use the material, tangible things to remind us about matters spiritual and eternal.

And don’t forget about the importance of family meals. Eating and drinking is not merely an act of nutrition, but symbolizes a spiritual truth, a symbol of the heavenly banquet for which we strive in our daily lives. It is very important that the family has common dinners as much as they can. A typical example of the distracted and fragmented life we live today is the loss of common meals; each member of the family is eating on his own, at a time he finds appropriate, and just to fill his stomach with anything that can serve this purpose.



Michal Semin is co-founder and president of The Civic Institute of The Czech Republic, which promotes the traditional virtues of a free and ordered society. He is also founder of the Czech Society for Home Education and chairman of Una Voceóthe Society of Catholic Tradition.

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Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Excerpt from Distributism: A Catholic System of Economics

by Donald Goodman III



The distributive state is that in which productive property is the norm rather than the exception; that is, that in which the normal citizen is an owner of productive property. For reasons of clarity these were addressed in five sections above; however, the principles to which a state wishing to be considered distributive must conform are essentially threefold:

Property and distributive justice

The state must respect private property. However, it should not be misled by modern claims that private property is an absolute right which triumphs over the necessities of the common good. In particular, the use of private property should be directed by the state to the common good. Property will be distributed unevenly in society, and that unequal distribution is both necessary and good; however, productive property should be distributed widely throughout society, not necessarily equally, but such that society as a whole takes on the characteristics of a society of owners rather than a society of nonowning workers. This distribution is in accord with distributive justice. In all distributive concerns, a special concern must be taken for the poor, for Christ and the Church have always held that the state must look out especially for them.

Subsidiarity

No function should be performed by a higher level of society that could be performed by a lower level. The state must always respect the prerogatives of the subsidiary corporations which make it up; failure to do so is like the brain failing to respect the prerogatives of the heart or the liver, and will inevitably result in disorder and eventual death. However, this principle should not lead the state into abandoning those tasks which necessarily fall upon it; it should not fear to take up those roles and functions which only it can properly perform.

Solidarity

The state must order all its actions in the economic realm such that each part of society is acting in concert for the common good.

The state which remains true to these three principles cannot run afoul of Catholic doctrine. Truly, these principles indicate a very different economic order from that dominant in the West and throughout the world. They are, however, the only principles upon which a Catholic state can rely to build an economic order truly in accord with Catholic teaching.

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(To download Donald Goodman's entire book Distributism: A Catholic System of Economics in PDF click here)

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Monday, April 02, 2007

A Giant Among Catholic Economists

by Thomas Storck



Heinrich Pesch, 1854-1926, a German Jesuit priest and economist, is largely unknown in the U.S., but arguably he is one of the most important and influential Catholic thinkers of the past few centuries. It was to the thought of Pesch and his disciples that Pope Pius XI turned to in composing his monumental encyclical Quadragesimo Anno (1931), and it is from Pesch that John Paul II has taken many of the ideas of his own social encyclicals, including the idea of man as the subject of work, of man's dominion over the world as founded on his exercise of work, and even the key term "solidarism" (solidarity). Indeed, it sometimes seems uncanny, after reading John Paul, to turn to Pesch and see the same ideas, sometimes presented in nearly the same words. Any thinker who has had such influence over more than one Supreme Pontiff is worth knowing better.

Since the publication of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations in 1776, the study of economics in the English-speaking world has largely moved in the direction of a deductive science, divorced from ethics and without an explicit philosophical basis in the nature of man, although in actual fact covertly accepting the hedonism of thinkers such as Thomas Hobbes and Jeremy Bentham. Almost every beginning student of economics today is initiated into a system of analysis which uses a few simple but powerful tools to examine the economic transactions of producing, buying and selling, saving, etc. These analytical tools tend to treat economic activity as basically mechanical in nature, with each economic actor seeking only to maximize his interests, which are conceived almost entirely as monetary. Man's economic activity can thus be largely reduced to a mathematical expression, and articles in economic journals are full of graphs and equations. But in the 10 volumes of Heinrich Pesch, there is hardly any mathematics at all, though this is not due to ignorance or inability. Although he began the formal study of economics late in life (in 1901 at the University of Berlin), his decision to eschew the use of mathematics in economics was deliberate. Thus, Pesch begins his work with a consideration of the nature of man and his relation to the world around him, of the family, of society, and of property. He does not omit a discussion of what should be the proper methodology of economic science and its relations to the other social sciences, which is something today's conventional economists rarely consider.

Anyone familiar with the atmosphere of contemporary economics texts will find the atmosphere of Pesch very different. Conventional economics seeks as much as possible to imitate physics -- to be, as mentioned earlier, a deductive science whose contents can, in theory, be presented almost entirely mathematically. There is no careful development of subject matter based on the nature of man or the family or society, no consideration of what an economy is ultimately for. But Pesch is the antidote to this approach. He is aware that no subject can be divorced from its philosophy, that no one will understand something thoroughly if he does not see it in its larger setting. Thus, his work is characterized by the step-by-step development of theses, careful definition of terms, and constant reference to first principles.

But this is not to say that the Lehrbuch is not really an economics text. Although it includes philosophical discussions and continual reference to theological principles, it is not a philosophical or theological work. It is a full and technical examination of economic theories. Pesch examines and discusses all the important topics in economics, both technical and ethical; questions of wages and prices, land and farming, ownership and welfare; and such intricate subjects as banking and foreign exchange. While it is true that some of the subject matter has changed considerably since Pesch wrote, rarely are his observations without value or interest.

The amount of erudition contained in the Lehrbuch is amazing. The views of every important economic theorist, especially those writing in German, French, or English, are considered, including those whom Pesch rejects, such as Karl Marx and Adam Smith and Malthus. And whatever good can be found in these erring thinkers, Pesch finds, sifts, corrects, and places within his own framework. Often, as with his discussion of the principle of marginal utility, he neither wholly accepts nor wholly rejects the received theory, but qualifies and refines it. In all this he is very like Thomas Aquinas, who considered the views of the ancient pagans, earlier Catholic writers, and even Arab and Jewish philosophers contemporary to him in formulating his own philosophical and theological opinions. Speaking of St. Thomas, Pesch the modern Jesuit is like the medieval Dominican in more ways than one. For Pesch, unlike most writers on economics, is not afraid to acknowledge God, the God who created man with a certain determinate nature, and thus, from studying that nature, one can conclude what God's intention was for how the human race should live.

Pesch has definitely written a Christian work. Those who ridicule the notion of a "Catholic economics" forget that for a Catholic, all truth, whether from reason or revelation, is valuable, and a Catholic thinker who neglects the truths of revelation does so at his own intellectual peril.

Pesch, as a Catholic economist, necessarily rejects socialism and all forms of collectivism. He places private property -- along with the family and the state -- as one of the three pillars of the social order. At the same time, he rejects free-market capitalism, for from his examination of the nature of man and society, he is led to the idea of the mutual interdependence of all members of society. Thus, his system is called Solidarism -- or the Solidaristic System of Human Work -- which in outline will be familiar to all readers of the papal social encyclicals. For example, as both Leo XIII and Pesch point out, because capital and labor depend on each other, or, more precisely, since owners and workers depend on each other, there should not be any fundamental conflict between these different economic agents. And there is no reason to suppose that society will flourish best when each member tries only to advance his own economic welfare, any more than that the family maximizes its own happiness when each member thinks solely of his own interests.

Pesch was, above all, concerned with the human beings for whom Christ died. In discussing the business cycle, for example, he writes, "To be sure, it is said that while business cycles open wounds they also heal them again. Today they cause loss, tomorrow, profit! But what about those cases where loss and profit do not recur to the same people or the same classes of people, so that some are carried to the dizzying heights of wealth, while others are reduced to economic ruin?"

These kinds of thoughts occur to many of us only during economic downturns. But they ought to be the thoughts that Catholic thinkers constantly keep before their eyes. In our own country, the ratio of pay between a CEO and a factory worker has gone from 25 to 1 in the late 1960s, to 42 to 1 in 1980, to 419 to 1 in 2002. Pesch considered such extreme discrepancies in income an evil, and he quotes approvingly the statement that the "differences in society should not reach a point where a nation ends up divided into two halves: one half too rich, the other half too poor."

Pesch proposes and argues for several features as part of his system, which those familiar with the tradition of Catholic social thought will immediately recognize. One is the occupational group or "guild," sometimes called an industry council in the U.S. This type of organization, strongly championed by Pius XI and Pius XII, and mentioned at least in passing by nearly every subsequent pope, is one of the key institutions in Pesch's economic program. Its abandonment by most Catholic thinkers since the 1950s is simply another example of how we have thrown out important elements of our Catholic intellectual tradition with hardly any advertence. Other aspects of the Catholic tradition in economics that Pesch discusses and supports include the importance of farming and rural life, the just price, and the just wage. Pesch notes that a just price can best be determined within the occupational groups mentioned above. "In order that a general consensus [on prices] may establish itself in the most concrete and objective terms, it is advisable to set up organizations within which producers, merchants, and buyers can express their views." Herewith, the common retort of supporters of free-market capitalism, "But who is going to determine the just price?" is rendered nugatory in Pesch's system, for when occupational groups have been established, such questions largely take care of themselves.

Pesch's discussion of the just wage is surely one of his most original contributions to economic and moral theory, for he speaks of the concept of the "just wage as the economically correct wage." After noting that a man's labor is ordinarily capable of producing enough to provide for himself and his family, Pesch goes on to say, "The employer who, by his own ineptitude, uses labor in such a way that it does not come up to doing what it is capable of doing, would nevertheless be required to pay the kind of wage which labor is intended to provide. However, if labor is utilized properly in accordance with its natural purpose, and the employer pays a wage which does not provide for labor's livelihood, then he violates commutative justice. Finally, an industry which, even under normal circumstances is not in a position to pay wages corresponding to what wages are supposed to accomplish, is lacking in economic justification. This means that the requisite consumer demand is lacking, and such an industry no longer has a place in the pattern of satisfying normal human wants."

In other words, if the only way in which an employer can afford to sell his product is to set his prices so low that he cannot afford to pay his workers a living wage, then clearly his product lacks sufficient consumer demand. It is as if he had to bribe the public to buy his product by charging less than its genuine production cost. Today we are inundated with cheap goods produced abroad, sometimes, as with those produced in China, in conditions little better than slavery. This is a distortion of the economic process. If the item is worth buying, it is worth paying a price that fully compensates all who are involved in its production. If someone revived chattel slavery today and boasted that he could undersell his competitors, who would doubt but that his entire enterprise was an economic as well as a moral evil, no matter how cheaply he could produce? The same logic must be applied to any enterprise that cannot afford to pay its workers a just wage. This kind of analysis, which respects both real economic facts as well as ethical principles, is characteristic of Pesch and of the Catholic tradition at its best.

Pesch's translator, Rupert Ederer, Professor Emeritus of Economics at the State University of New York at Buffalo and himself born in Germany, has devoted much of his life to translating and popularizing Pesch's work in the English-speaking world. In addition to the Lehrbuch, Ederer has translated several of Pesch's other works, including an earlier book of selections from the Lehrbuch. This present effort crowns a life dedicated to the Church's social apostolate. It would be difficult to overstate the importance of this book now appearing in English for the first time. Since Pesch's magnum opus is both long and expensive, I would suggest that for most readers the last four or five volumes will hold the most interest. It is in those that Pesch most directly confronts capitalist thought and argues for a Catholic position. But academic libraries, and anyone else with sufficient time and money, ought to purchase the entire set. For a Catholic who intends to be a serious student of economics, who wishes to promote the Social Reign of Jesus Christ, it is an essential starting point. For to read Pesch is to begin to think scientifically about economics from a Catholic point of view. Those who have studied conventional economics will find in Pesch a new starting point for thinking about economics, a starting point that is faithful both to economic facts and to the Church's teaching. Pesch is a writer and thinker of first rank, whose work is simply too important to ignore.

Thomas Storck is a Contributing Editor of the NOR and author, most recently, of Christendom and the West: Essays on Culture, Society and History.

Lehrbuch der Nationalöko-nomie/Teaching Guide to Economics. By Heinrich PeschTranslated and edited by Rupert J. Ederer. Edwin Mellen Press. 10 volumes. . $1,349.50. (Individual volumes available separately. Twenty percent discount for credit card orders by phone. Call 716-754-2788.).


©New Oxford Review
February 2005

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Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Ramblings of Defense

A Note by The ChesterBelloc Mandate



Today, importance is nearly not as important as we think it is. Everyone searches in vain to be innovative yet no one ever thinks innovation might come not from uncovering some "secret epistle" or refashioning dogma, but from the truth.

The truth is a funny thing. Everyone says they have it, they search for it, few truly want it. What they prefer is innuendo, shock, and injury. Injury to others that is. They expose their fellow neighbour without evidence but with the mere delight of smear, dismissing the answers they receive because it doesn't fit the labels tailor fitted. "The suit has been made" they say, "and the bill must be paid" even if one never ordered the suit.

Fashions were popular during Chesterton's time and do not seem to peak in ours. There is little doubt Chesterton would laugh with his particular, contagious, style if anyone were to inform him in our age identities are stolen. Stolen Identities are not only the cause célèbre of thieves but of contemporary journalists who replace reality with self-importance. No one watches the watchers and the watchers watch everyone but themselves.

One must wonder who these watchers are, where they work, who they associate with and even if they are faithful to the Church. We are assured they are, after all, only seeking to protect us. Of course, who will protect us from them? Criticism is a noble thing, scandal based on allegations is quite another.

Catholics often hear the charge we worship Mary. From the coast of the Bible Belt to a Jack Chick tract, readers are to hold on tight to the expose. However, Catholics know the leap from reverence to worship is as grand as jumping across the Grand Canyon. And so it is, in modern society, some point the finger at those who have misunderstood relationships and infer the spectacular. Soon the prison chaplain will be indicted for associating with the wicked, the patron for having dinner at the restaurant owned by the adulterer. One must never associate or have dinner with the sinner. St. Paul must have turned in the wrong draft.

There is something the Catholic has chosen to disregard in his investigation of the truth and that is, the investigation. Like our faith in God we make accusations and ask those around us to have faith without evidence. We choose to do everything and anything except to ask the horse's mouth. Perhaps the accusers live too far away from the stables.

Watchers today wish to destroy reputations by claiming to be the gauge of Catholicism without taking their own temperature. These accusers fail to provide evidence of their victim's charges yet tie their own noose by bearing false witness and creating scandal. Scandal which could be resolved with a telephone call, an email or perhaps the method relished by kings and the modern commoner: the letter. Mistakes flounder and fiction sells.

It is quite a phenomenon to see modern man, theist or non, argue based on merit. No, it would be better to say it is a major phenomenon to do such a thing. If one prefers not to tackle an argument they attack the one giving it. If one man is alleged to hold unsavory opinions we choose not to debate those opinions but to attack the alleged man. "Better to label a man as a warning to others lest we be forced to argue," they say.

Those people tell us not to read this or that book because it holds borderline tenets and/or schismatic beliefs with one hand, whilst the other praises the end of the index of forbidden reading. We must never attend a Tridentine Mass in case it causes us to leave Mother Church, but please feel free to roll to the ground at Mass as if performing a fire drill. In today's world, the devil has convinced Catholics to place Catholicism on the very same index.

We at The ChesterBelloc Mandate would like to ask our readers to pray for John F. Sharpe and his family during this difficult time in their lives.

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Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Family and The Feud



There was an old joke of my childhood, to the effect that men might be grouped together with reference to their Christian names. I have forgotten the cases then under consideration; but contemporary examples would be sufficiently suggestive to-day. A ceremonial brotherhood-in-arms between Father Bernard Vaughan and Mr. Bernard Shaw seems full of possibilities. I am faintly pleased with the fancy of Mr. Arnold Bennett endeavouring to extract the larger humanities of fiction from the political differences of Mr. Arnold White and Mr. Arnold Lupton. I should pass my own days in the exclusive society of Professor Gilbert Murray and Sir Gilbert Parker; whom I can conceive as differing on some points from each other, and on some points from me. Now there is one odd thing to notice about this old joke; that it might have been taken in a more serious spirit, though in a saner style, in a yet older period. This fantasy of the Victorian Age might easily have been a fact of the Middle Ages. There would have been nothing abnormal in the moral atmosphere of mediaevalism in some feast or pageant celebrating the fellowship of men who had the same patron saint. It seems mad and meaningless now, because the meaning of Christian names has been lost. They have fallen into a kind of chaos and oblivion which is highly typical of our time. I mean that there are still fashions in them, but no longer reasons for them. For a fashion is a custom without a cause. A fashion is a custom to which men cannot get accustomed; simply because it is without a cause. That is why our industrial societies, touching every topic from the cosmos to the coat-collars, are merely swept by a succession of modes which are merely moods. They are customs that fail to be customary. And so, amid all our fashions in Christian names, we have forgotten all that was meant by the custom of Christian names. We have forgotten all the original facts about a Christian name; but, above all, the fact that it was Christian.

Now if we note this process going on in the world of London or Liverpool, we shall see that it has already gone even farther and fared even worse. The surname also is losing its root and therefore its reason. The surname has become as solitary as a nickname. For it might be argued that the first name is meant to be an individual and even isolated thing; but the last name is certainly meant, by all logic and history, to link a man with his human origins, habits, or habitation. Historically, it was a word taken from the town he lived in or the trade guild to which he belonged; legally it is still the word on which all questions of legitimacy, succession, and testamentary arrangements turn. It is meant to be the corporate name; in that sense it is meant to be the impersonal name, as the other is meant to be the personal name. Yet in the modern mode of industrialism, it is more and more taken in a manner at once lonely and light. Any corporate social system built upon it would seem as much of a joke as the joke about Christian names with which I began. If it would seem odd to require a Thomas to make friends with any other Thomas, it would appear almost as perplexing to insist that any Thompson must love any other Thompson. It may be that Sir Edward Henry, late of the Police Force, does not wish to be confined to the society of Mr. Edward Clodd. But would Sir Edward Henry necessarily have sought the society of Mr. O. Henry, entertaining as that society would have been? Sir John Barker, founder of the great Kensington emporium, need not specially seek out and embrace Mr. John Masefield; but need he, any more swiftly, precipitate himself into the arms of Mr. Granville Barker? This vista of varieties would lead us far; but it is enough to notice, nonsense apart, that the most ordinary English surnames have become unique in their social significance; they stand for the man rather than the race or the origins. Even when they are most common they are not communal. What we call the family name is not now primarily the name of the family. The family itself, as a corporate conception, has already faded into the background, and is in danger of fading from the background. In short, our Christian names are not the only Christian things that we may lose.

Now the second solid fact which struck me in Ireland (after the success of small property and the _failure_ of large organisation)was the fact that the family was in a flatly contrary position. All I have said above, in current language, about the whole trend of the modern world, is directly opposite to the whole trend of the modern Irish world. Not only is the Christian name a Christian name; but (what seems still more paradoxical and even pantomimic) the family name is really a family name. Touching the first of the two, it would be easy to trace out some very interesting truths about it, if they did not divert us from the main truth of this chapter: the second great truth about Ireland. People contrasting the "education" of the two countries, or seeking to extend to the one the thing which is called education in the other, might indeed do worse than study the simple problem of the meaning of Christian names. It might dawn at last, even on educationists, that there is a value in the content as well as the extent of culture; or (in other words), that knowing nine hundred words is not always more important than knowing what some of them mean. It is strictly and soberly true that any peasant, in a mud cabin in County Clare, when he names his child Michael, may really have a sense of the presence that smote down Satan, the arms and plumage of the paladin of Paradise. I doubt whether it is so overwhelmingly probable that any clerk in any villa on Clapham Common, when he names his son John, has a vision of the holy eagle of the Apocalypse, or even of the mystical cup of the disciple whom Jesus loved. In the face of that simple fact, I have no doubt about which is the more educated man; and even a knowledge of the Daily Mail does not redress the balance. It is often said, and possibly truly, that the peasant named Michael cannot write his own name. But it is quite equally true that the clerk named John cannot read his own name. He cannot read it because it is in a foreign language, and he has never been made to realise what it stands for. He does not know that John means John, as the other man does know that Michael means Michael. In that rigidly realistic sense, the pupil of industrial intellectualism does not even know his own name.

But this is a parenthesis; because the point here is that the man in the street (as distinct from the man in the field) has been separated not only from his private but from his more public description. He has not only forgotten his name, but forgotten his address. In my own view, he is like one of those unfortunate people who wake up with their minds a blank, and therefore cannot find their way home. But whether or no we take this view of the state of things in an industrial society like the English, we must realise firmly that a totally opposite state of things exists in an agricultural society like the Irish. We may put it, if we like, in the form of an unfamiliar and even unfriendly fancy. We may say that the house is greater than the man; that the house is an amiable ogre that runs after and recaptures the man. But the fact is there, familiar or unfamiliar, friendly or unfriendly; and the fact is the family. The family pride is prodigious; though it generally goes along with glowing masses of individual humility. And this family sentiment does attach itself to the family name; so that the very language in which men think is made up of family names. In this the atmosphere is singularly unlike that of England though much more like that of Scotland. Indeed, it will illustrate the impartial recognition of this, apart from any partisan deductions, that it is equally apparent in the place where Ireland and Scotland are supposed to meet. It is equally apparent in Ulster, and even in the Protestant corner of Ulster.

In all the Ulster propaganda I came across, I think the thing that struck me most sharply was one phrase in one Unionist leading article. It was something that might fairly be called Scottish; something which was really even more Irish; but something which could not in the wildest mood be called English, and therefore could not with any rational meaning be called Unionist. Yet it was part of a passionately sincere, and indeed truly human and historic outburst of the politics of the northeast corner, against the politics of the rest of Ireland. Most of us remember that Sir Edward Carson put into the Government a legal friend of his named Campbell; it was at the beginning of the war, and few of us thought anything of the matter except that it was stupid to give posts to Carsonites at the most delicate crisis of the cause in Ireland. Since then, as we also know, the same Campbell has shown himself a sensible man, which I should translate as a practical Home Ruler; but which is anyhow something more than what is generally meant by a Carsonite. I entertain myself, a profound suspicion that Carson also would very much like to be something more than a Carsonite. But however this may be, his legal friend of whom I speak made an excellent speech, containing some concession to Irish popular sentiment. As might have been expected, there were furious denunciations of him in the press of the Orange party; but not more furious than might have been found in the Morning Post or the Saturday Review. Nevertheless, there was one phrase that I certainly never saw in the Morning Post or the Saturday Review; one phrase I should never expect to see in any English paper, though I might very probably see it in a Scotch paper. It was this sentence, that was read to me from the leading article of a paper in Belfast: "There never was treason yet but a Campbell was at the bottom of it."

Let anybody imagine an Englishman saying, about some business quarrel, "How like an Atkins!" or "What could you expect of a Wilkinson?" A moment's reflection will show that it would be even more impossible touching public men in public quarrels. No English Liberal ever connected the earlier exploits of the present Lord Birkenhead with atavistic influences, or the totem of the wide and wandering tribe of Smith. No English patriot traced back the family tree of any English pacifist; or said there was never treason yet but a Pringle was at the bottom of it. It is the indefinite article that is here the definite distinction. It is the expression "a Campbell" which suddenly transforms the scene, and covers the robes of one lawyer with the ten thousand tartans of a whole clan. Now that phrase is the phrase that meets the traveller everywhere in Ireland. Perhaps the next most arresting thing I remember, after the agrarian revolution, was the way in which one poor Irishman happened to speak to me about Sir Roger Casement. He did not praise him as a deliverer of Ireland; he did not abuse him as a disgrace to Ireland; he did not say anything of the twenty things one might expect him to say. He merely referred to the rumour that Casement meant to become a Catholic just before his execution, and expressed a sort of distant interest in it. He added: "He's always been a Black Protestant. All the Casements are Black Protestants." I confess that, at the moment of that morbid story, there seemed to me to be something unearthly about the very idea of there being other Casements. If ever a man seemed solitary, if ever a man seemed unique to the point of being unnatural, it was that man on the two or three occasions when I have seen his sombre handsome face and his wild eyes; a tall, dark figure walking already in the shadow of a dreadful doom. I do not know if he was a Black Protestant; but he was a black something; in the sad if not the bad sense of the symbol. I fancy, in truth, he stood rather for the third of Browning's famous triad of rhyming monosyllables. A distinguished Nationalist Member, who happened to have had a medical training, said to me, "I was quite certain when I first clapped eyes on him; the man was mad." Anyhow the man was so unusual, that it would never have occurred to me or any of my countrymen to talk as if there were a class or clan of such men. I could almost have imagined he had been born without father or mother. But for the Irish, his father and mother were really more important than he was. There is said to be a historical mystery about whether Parnell made a pun, when he said that the name of Kettle was a household word in Ireland. Few symbols could now be more contrary than the name of Kettle and the name of Casement (save for the courage they had in common); for the younger Kettle, who died so gloriously in France, was a Nationalist as broad as the other was cramped, and as sane as the other was crazy. But if the fancy of a punster, following his own delightful vein of nonsense, should see something quaint in the image of a hundred such Kettles singing as he sang by a hundred hearths, a more bitter jester, reading that black and obscure story of the capture on the coast, might utter a similar flippancy about other Casements, opening on the foam of such very perilous seas, in a land so truly forlorn. But even if we were not annoyed at the pun, we should be surprised at the plural. And our surprise would be the measure of the deepest difference between England and Ireland. To express it in the same idle imagery it would be the fact that even a casement is a part of a house, as a kettle is a part of a household. Every word in Irish is a household word.

The English would no more have thought of a plural for the word Gladstone than for the word God. They would never have imagined Disraeli compassed about with a great cloud of Disraelis; it would have seemed to them altogether too Apocalyptic, and exaggeration of being on the side of the angels. To this day in England, as I have reason to know, it is regarded as a rabid and insane form of religious persecution to suggest that a Jew very probably comes of a Jewish family. In short, the modern English, while their rulers are willing to give due consideration to Eugenics as a reasonable opportunity for various forms of polygamy and infanticide, are drifting farther and farther from the only consideration of Eugenics that could possibly be fit for Christian men, the consideration of it as an accomplished fact. I have spoken of infanticide; but indeed the ethic involved is rather that of parricide and matricide. To my own taste, the present tendency of social reform would seem to consist of destroying all traces of the parents, in order to study the heredity of the children. But I do not here ask the reader to accept my own tastes or even opinions about these things; I only bear witness to an objective fact about a foreign country. It can be summed up by saying that Parnell is the Parnell for the English; but a Parnell for the Irish.

This is what I mean when I say that English Home Rulers do not know what the Irish mean by home. And this is also what I mean when I say that the society does not fit into any of our social classifications, liberal or conservative. To many Radicals this sense of lineage will appear rank reactionary aristocracy. And it is aristocratic, if we mean by this a pride of pedigree; but it is not aristocratic in the practical and political sense. Strange as it may sound, its practical effect is democratic. It is not aristocratic in the sense of creating an aristocracy. On the contrary, it is perhaps the one force that permanently prevents the creation of an aristocracy, in the manner of the English squirearchy. The reason of this apparent paradox can be put plainly enough in one sentence. If you are _really_ concerned about your relations, you have to be concerned about your poor relations. You soon discover that a considerable number of your second cousins exhibit a strong social tendency to be chimney-sweeps and tinkers. You soon learn the lesson of human equality if you try honestly and consistently to learn any other lesson, even the lesson of heraldry and genealogy. For good or evil, a real working aristocracy has to forget about three-quarters of its aristocrats. It has to discard the poor who have the genteel blood, and welcome the rich who can live the genteel life. If a man is interesting because he is a McCarthy, it is, so far, as he is interesting because he is a man; that is, he is interesting whether he is a duke or a dustman. But if he is interesting because he is Lord FitzArthur and lives at FitzArthur House, then he is interesting when he has merely bought the house, or when he has merely bought the title. To maintain a squirearchy, it is necessary to admire the new squire; and therefore to forget the old squire. The sense of family is like a dog and follows the family; the sense of oligarchy is like a cat and continues to haunt the house. I am not arguing against aristocracy if the English choose to preserve it in England; I am only making clear the terms on which they hold it, and warning them that a people with a strong family sense will not hold it on any terms. Aristocracy, as it has flourished in England since the Reformation, with not a little national glory and commercial success, is in its very nature built up of broken and desecrated homes. It has to destroy a hundred poor relations to keep up a family. It has to destroy a hundred families to keep up a class.

But if this family spirit is incompatible with what we mean by aristocracy, it is quite as incompatible with three-quarters of what many men praise and preach as democracy. The whole trend of what has been regarded as liberal legislation in England, necessary or unnecessary, defensible and indefensible, has for good or evil been at the expense of the independence of the family, especially of the poor family. From the first most reasonable restraints of the Factory Acts to the last most maniacal antics of interference with other people's nursery games or Christmas dinners, the whole process has turned sometimes on the pivot of the state, more often on the pivot of the employer, but never on the pivot of the home. All this may be an emancipation; I only point out that Ireland really asked for Home Rule chiefly to be emancipated from this emancipation. But indeed the English politicians, to do them justice, show their consciousness of this by the increasing number of cases in which the other nation is exempted. We may have harried this unhappy people with our persecutions; but at least we spare them our reforms. We have smitten them with plagues; but at least we dare not scourge them with our remedies. The real case against the Union is not merely a case against the Unionists; it is a far stronger case against the Universalists. It is this strange and ironic truth; that a man stands up holding a charter of charity and peace for all mankind; that he lays down a law of enlightened justice for all the nations of the earth, that he claims to behold man from the beginnings of his evolution equal, without any difference between the most distant creeds and colours; that he stands as the orator of the human race whose statute only declares all humanity to be human; and then slightly drops his voice and says, "This Act shall not apply to Ireland."

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