Showing posts with label Chesterton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chesterton. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Work and Property: An Afterword to Quadragesimo Anno

by John Sharpe


Too much capitalism does not mean too many capitalists, but too few capitalists. —G. K. Chesterton
The Uses of Diversity, 1921


Those fortunate enough to be acquainted with the work of Southern Catholic novelist Walker Percy might be surprised to learn that it was not for his novels that Percy thought he would be most remembered. It was rather for his “semiotics”: his philosophical and scientific work on man’s language and use of symbols, not only in mundane communication, but also in the most profound intellectual acts of comprehension that have as their object the deepest realities of the universe. At its most radical, Percy’s work on language and symbolism deals with the essential nature of the created human intellect’s ability to penetrate – in however limited a way – to the depths of metaphysical reality. It is due to the profound significance of this question for all of reality as man confronts it that Catholics recognize the second person of the Trinity as the Word of God, by Whom all things were made.

As for the pressing question of what the Church thinks, and what we Catholics are to think, of capitalism, reference to Percy’s semiotics is surprisingly useful, if not plainly necessary. His vision of language posited the quite defensible hypothesis that any linguistic act (or “language event”) necessarily involves three parts: the speaker (or the “sign-user”), the sign used (usually a “word”), and the thing signified (or, the “object”). Without each of the three parts of this triad, not only can there be no communication (which is obvious enough), but there can arguably be no real grasp by the human intellect – which ultimately needs language – of reality itself. Thus the act of naming is an essential aspect of man’s ability to understand the reality of which he is a part;1 indeed, it would not be a stretch to see, as part of the dominion God commanded Adam to exercise over all earthly created things (Genesis i:28), his assigning of names to those earthly realities, and his consequent comprehension of them.2

The significance of properly naming things has been emphasized by a host of thinkers, ancient, medieval, and modern. St. Thomas raises the issue in the Summa when discussing the virtue of truth: “A person who says what is true, utters certain signs which are in conformity with things.”3 Note that the sign used must conform to the thing referenced, which assumes that the thing has some actual and independent reality – independent properties and characteristics, and an essence of its own that dictates what the word used must express if it is to be properly chosen. It was the achievement of nominalists going back to Occam to attempt a destruction of this linkage between words and the objective realities they signify – an achievement that Weaver decries in the introduction to his monumental Ideas Have Consequences.4

How much of the discussion of the Church’s attitude to “capitalism” depends upon what this “ism” means among those discussing it may be gathered from the radically different assessments made of it by many who, at bottom, actually seem to agree, notwithstanding their varying mode of expressing themselves. His Excellency signaled the problem, if tangentially, by saying, “In all discussions of ‘capitalism,’ it is crucial to define what one means by the word.” Contrary to these, however, who beneath apparent disagreement do in fact agree, are others who disagree not only about the words used to signify the reality, but also about the reality itself. It is therefore that third element of Percy’s triad – the reality that the sign used must signify – that we must discover vis-à-vis “capitalism,” in order to have in our possession both a yardstick with which to measure orthodoxy, and a scalpel with which to excise heterodoxy, so as to rectify our ideas about modern economic life. A rectification of thought that is an essential prerequisite, then, to doing what we ought.

In his characteristic way, Chesterton hit on both the problem of definition in general, and the definition of capitalism itself. The great English wit is worth quoting in full, for the light he sheds on the meaning of the vexing term and for the lightheartedness he brings to Percy’s not unimportant observations in the field of language study.

When I say “Capitalism,” I commonly mean something that may be stated thus: “That economic condition in which there is a class of capitalists, roughly recognizable and relatively small, in whose possession so much of the capital is concentrated as to necessitate a very large majority of the citizens serving those capitalists for a wage”. This particular state of things can and does exist, and we must have some word for it, and some way of discussing it. But this is undoubtedly a very bad word, because it is used by other people to mean quite other things. Some people seem to mean merely private property. Others suppose that Capitalism must mean anything involving the use of capital. But if that use is too literal, it is also too loose and even too large. If the use of capital is Capitalism, then everything is Capitalism. Bolshevism is Capitalism and anarchist communism is Capitalism; and every revolutionary scheme, however wild, is still Capitalism. Lenin and Trotsky believe as much as Lloyd George and Thomas that the economic operations of today must leave something over for the economic operations of tomorrow. And that is all that capital means in its economic sense. In that case, the word is useless. My use of it may be arbitrary, but it is not useless. If Capitalism means private property, I am capitalist. If Capitalism means capital, everybody is capitalist. But if Capitalism means this particular condition of capital, only paid out to the mass in the form of wages, then it does mean something, even if it ought to mean something else.

The truth is that what we call Capitalism ought to be called Proletarianism. The point of it is not that some people have capital, but that most people only have wages because they do not have capital.5


GKC’s definition is precisely Pius’s (“that economic regime in which were provided by different people the capital and labor jointly needed for production” (Quadragesimo Anno (QA) §1016)), as it is, incidentally, Belloc’s (“a state of society in which a minority control the means of production, leaving the mass of the citizens dispossessed”7) as well. All of which is fine, so far as it goes. That the simple division, abstractly considered, of an economic operation into the provision of capital by one party, and the provision of labor by another, is neutral and not inherently immoral is admitted and plain to all reasonable observers, not least Pius XI (§102: the system “is not vicious of its very nature.”). For this reason even a popularly conceived “anti-capitalist” like Belloc could admit that “[n]o one can say that [industrial capitalism] stands condemned specifically by Catholic definition.”8

Nevertheless, how many commentators, looking at both QA and Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum (RN), envision the Church to have in fact condemned “capitalism” by her pronouncements in both these encyclicals? Which means that these reliable thinkers certainly, and with good reason, believe that some thing signified by the term “capitalism” was indeed condemned, notwithstanding the “neutrality” of the system that Pius XI characterized as “not vicious of its very nature.” Msgr. Luigi Civardi, author of so many books on the Church’s social teaching and its salutary effect on the world, states plainly that RN “condemns the capitalistic system.”9 Bishop Emile Guerry for his part explained why “the Popes condemned liberal capitalism so severely” by saying that “the ‘social system’ itself [is condemned] where it is based on a concept of private ownership opposed to the community end assigned by God to the goods of the earth.”10 Amintore Fanfani, whose study of the “capitalist spirit” more than rivals the treatises of Weber and Tawney, declared that “there is an unbridgeable gulf between the Catholic and the capitalistic conception of life.”11 If, then, the neutral, almost “mechanical” system built on a division between labor and capital is not condemned by the Popes, what is it that they did condemn – and, more to the point, how does what they condemn relate to the thing, the third element of Percy’s triad, that most people mean when they say “capitalism”?

The careful reader will be ready to reply that all of the answers to the first part of our question are spelled out in precision and detail by Pius XI in QA, who, in exercising his ordinary magisterium, simply reiterated and more or less codified the common opinion both of his predecessors and of Catholic philosophical tradition. Condemned by the Pope is the social and moral philosophy that prevailed since the advent of industrialism, and which reigns still today (it is “an economic science alien to the true moral law” (QA §135; see also §§42, 43, 131)). Also condemned are the broader ideologies supporting rationalist economics (and highlighted by His Excellency at the beginning of his introduction): liberalism (§§14, 24, 26), individualism (§§46, 70, 89, 110), and materialism (§§120–1, 134). Condemned as well, at least implicitly, is the triumph of machine- and technology-worship, to the exclusion of the focus man should have on the “one thing necessary” and the other values that support such a focus (“dead matter leaves the factory ennobled and transformed, where men are corrupted and degraded”(§138)). Condemned, in the strongest terms, is limitless, free competition (§§89, 108–110), as is the resultant gross disequilibrium in the distribution of ownership (§§57, 60–63) and the massive concentration of wealth in the hands of a few (§106). Condemned is the anarchist conception of the state which refuses to sanction any enforcement of the moral law (§135). Resulting from these condemned principles and practices, furthermore, is a condemned economic life that is “hard, cruel, and relentless,” producing crying evils, and leading to economic imperialism and a “noxious and detestable internationalism...in financial affairs” (§§3–4, 102–110, 134–135, 137).

Anyone who maintains that “capitalism” of itself escaped condemnation in QA would have to prove that the “thing” signified by the term as it is used today does not imply free competition, Enlightenment or classically liberal economic doctrine, the near worship of technology, the modern doctrine of individualism, the practical tyranny of international finance, and the concentration of productive property in relatively few hands. The “capitalism,” then, that was not condemned in QA was a theoretical “capitalism” of which eye has not seen nor ear heard (1 Cor. ii:9). One small point illustrates: in an article on Belloc’s economics from not too long ago, the writer, in offering his definition of “capitalism,” asserted that among its corollary “rights” to that of private property ownership are “the right to free competition in the marketplace” and the right of pursue profit with “no legal limit as to the amount of money that one can earn.”12 Notwithstanding the fact that by no means is it necessary that a right of private ownership imply these corollary rights as they are formulated (indeed, all modestly keen observers will note that these latter soon destroy the former right for all but the most powerful, i.e., the most wealthy), these so-called rights are categorically denied by the Pope at §§64, 89, 108, and 111. So much, then, for this kind of capitalism, with its alleged corollary rights, surviving condemnation by the Church! The point, of course, is that what the modern world understands “capitalism” to be – notwithstanding the theoretical, on-paper existence of an abstract, almost laboratory-esque notion that merely designates the collaboration in wealth creation of the provider of labor and the purveyor of productive property – necessarily implies ideological and practical realities that were indeed condemned in no uncertain terms by Pius XI, just as they were condemned under the label of “capitalism” by Fanfani, Civardi, and a host of Social Catholics and moral philosophers whose names in a list would literally fill the page. A “capitalism” that was not encompassed or included by the Pope’s condemnatory words in QA is a theoretical capitalism that has never existed and will never exist.13 What did then exist, and does now, more than ever, in terms of modern capitalism, was indeed “bad practice,” but the practice was condemned (“it violates right order”) in principle!14

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It will help us better appreciate what Pope Pius XI was driving at by concentrating upon what he advocated, in addition to and in light of what he condemned in his encyclical. For while he refrains from setting forth in detail a point-by-point program for social and economic restoration (indeed this is the task of the laity who collaborate to develop and implement a “truly Christian social science” and conduct specific activities “in accordance with Christian social doctrine”15), he clearly articulates the attributes of a sane and healthy social economy that serve as stars by which to navigate in our quest to understand – and then to implement – the principles of a socio-economic order worthy of Catholic men and families.

QA is frequently understood to be a restatement of the most well known and hardly controversial Catholic moral principles in the field of economic thought (such as the right of workingmen to a just or family wage; the right of both labor and capital to a proper share – but not to all – of profits; the need to steer social philosophy away from the twin errors of individualism and collectivism; plus the utter opposition of Catholicism to Socialist doctrine). It is that, of course, as His Excellency highlights in the introduction. But across the encyclical’s paragraphs, a careful reader will observe a vindication, sometimes subtle, sometimes not, of two key, indispensable principles of political economy that have been and remain dear to the hearts of Social Catholics of all generations, even if they are not declared in concise statements (e.g., “No one can be at the same time a sincere Catholic and a true Socialist”) that can be made almost platitudinous through repetition and without broader context. These two principles are: (1) the need, in a healthy and rightly ordered society, for a wide distribution of productive property, and (2) the importance of organizing economic activity in free “vocational groups” uniting the employers and employees of the various industries and professions.

The latter is perhaps less susceptible of rejection, insofar as it is so clearly stated. “The aim of social legislation must therefore be the re-establishment of vocational groups” (§84). It could not be more clear. Encompassed in an individual Guild or Corporation (yes, that’s what the Pontiff meant – for, following Leo XIII16 and St. Pius X,17 whose social teaching he declared in Ubi Arcano (UA) §60 to be in “full force” at the outset of his pontificate, he specifically laments the Guilds’ destruction at the hands of liberal individualism (§80)) will be both “employers and employees of one and the same group joining forces to produce goods or give service” (§85, emphasis mine), uniting not according to their status as supplier or procurer of labor (along familiar trades-union lines), but according to the functions they exercise in society (§84). Putting, as it were, the “crown” atop the corporative social order that he outlines in the paragraphs dealing with vocational groups, the Pope calls for the development of a true juridical order, with “social charity” as its “soul” and a State ready “to protect and defend it effectively” (§89). The sincerity of the Pope on this point was made only more obvious by his frank advocacy of Corporatism in Divini Redemptoris (§54), six years later.

As for the first of our two principles, it is capitulated in the declaration of Leo XIII in Rerum Novarum (the “Magna Charta,” according to Pius XI, “on which all Christian activities in social matters are ultimately based” (§38)): “The law, therefore, should favor ownership, and its policy should be to induce as many as possible of the people to become owners” (RN, §46). That Pius XI throughout QA reiterated his predecessor’s call for development of what Fr. McNabb termed the “ownership system,” in opposition to the then- and still-prevailing “wage system,” is clear on a number of counts. Let us look at these to ensure that there is no mistaking the point.

By way of entering argument, we must establish that in §§44–66 the Pope is dealing with productive property, and not just with “wealth” or “goods” in general. And it is essential to do so, in case there be any doubts, and we leave our review of QA with the impression that the Pope wants gadgets, and not gardens, more widely distributed, to leave the gardens to remain concentrated in just a few hands. It might be tempting for some to claim that it is only the inadequate distribution of wealth for consumption that that the Pope laments and wants to see rectified. Except that such an interpretation would be wrong (as we shall see). And it would fail to strike the disease, by dealing only with a symptom – a symptom which is, in fact, debatable, as the spectacle of people in poverty toting cell phones, sporting $250 sneakers, and riding in fancified, tricked-out automobiles illustrates. Capitalist wealth-creators might be efficaciously forced to share a few of their profits, but none of this will address the essence of the problem as it has existed for centuries: the problem that, as G.K.C. put it, “most people only have wages because they do not have capital.”

That Pius XI is referring, throughout QA, to productive property is clearly proven in three ways.

First, if one looks at the logical progression of the portion of QA dealing with property (§§44–66), the discussion of the right of ownership (§§44–53) appears as a preamble for the treatment of the distribution of both ownership and the products and income that are the fruit of the property owned. Now the type of property that, combined with labor, creates products and income is by definition, productive property. Furthermore, the discussion that takes place at §§56–66 regards the distribution of wealth and income derived from the very property whose ownership by private individuals was just defended in those preceding paragraphs. So in even just general terms, there is no doubt, based upon the structure and the “narrative” progression of this particular section of the encyclical, that the property that is the subject of discussion here is of the productive kind.

The commentary on the encyclical by Nell-Breuning,18 its drafter, confirms the point, by noting clearly that the discussion in these paragraphs deals with, among other things, whether ownership as such is a title to income from the property owned (which it is); the kind of property at issue, therefore, is productive.

Finally, §§53, 54, and 56 make explicit reference to property upon which labor is expended, whether that property is one’s own or that of one’s neighbor.19 One man might hire another to work his land or his machine to produce new wealth, but not to work his food, drink, and his furniture, which all serve merely to satisfy a need or a want. Furthermore, at §53 there is the possibility of “some new form or new value” being produced by the labor of a man who works “as his own master,” directly implying that his labor is applied to some land or capital, because it is only in this way that new wealth can be created by labor. The kind of property thus referred to is necessarily productive property. Indeed, no other interpretation of these passages is remotely possible, since the whole discussion ultimately addresses how to reconcile the competing claims of capital and labor to not just wealth in general but also to the products resulting from the combination of labor with that wealth. So the property in dispute is precisely that kind that can create new wealth when labor is applied to it: namely, productive property.

Reference to the dispute between labor and capital leads to the second point. For, beginning at §44, Pius XI specifically defends a doctrine of private ownership against the claims of the Socialists. We take as our reference Socialism20 by the Jesuit Victor Cathrein, who states, authoritatively, that Socialism advocated “the transformation of all capital, or means of production, into the common property of society, or of the state, and the administration of the produce and the distribution of the proceeds by the state” (p. 17). The socialists saw in private ownership of productive property the necessary exploitation (by the private owners of capital) of laborers, whom they claimed were exclusively entitled to the proceeds resulting from the labor expended on the machines they worked. That Pius takes this as the “official” stance of Socialism, against which he is arguing throughout this section of QA, is overtly stated at §§44, 58, and 60, and at least implied at §§46, 48, and 49. In vindicating private ownership against the Socialists, the Pope is vindicating the private ownership of productive property, which was the only ownership contested in the first place (the Socialists saw exploitation in the private ownership of factories, not of forks). Pius’s explicit reference (§44) to the teaching of his predecessor makes the point even more clear, for Leo’s suggested solution of the social question takes private ownership as a “given” (“this great labor question cannot be solved save by assuming as a principle that private ownership must be held sacred and inviolable” (RN §46)), against the Socialists’ proposals. Thus, both Popes, along with the tradition of the Church, in combating the trend of Socialism, resist a trend that would further the admitted evils of capitalism; namely, it would make all men merely wage-earners and “sharers” in income, earning a wage (and perhaps some dividends) for laboring on “community” property that they do not own (and that in fact no one in particular owns). Indeed, it is for the workingman, the artisan, the family head, the yeoman, and the peasant that the right of ownership is defended (“...the abolition of private ownership would prove to be not beneficial, but grievously harmful to the working classes” (§44)), and not so much for the “big capitalists” who, anyway, end up being taken to task for “long [being] able to appropriate to [themselves] excessive advantages” (§57). Hence we find numerous Social Catholic commentators who see Socialism as a fulfillment of capitalism and its errors, rather than, at bottom, an adversary to it,21 as well as a number of them who see the “other” way (for those who prefer not to say “third”), in opposition to both kindred “isms,” as the only philosophical and practical alternative to what are simply variations on the same wage-system theme, ordained to a single, materialist end.22

Third and last: the distinction clearly implied Pius in later paragraphs between comfort and propertylessness proves the point: for he is arguing both that the lot of workers has been somehow improved and that they do not own property. He refers to workers as “propertyless” at §§60 and 63 while admitting that their condition “has indeed been improved and rendered more equitable”; that they “can no longer be said to be universally in misery and want” (§62). He also admits the “formal difference between pauperism and proletarianism” (§63). One can possess an income from an employer that suffices to meet day-to-day expenses, for the purchase, in relative sufficiency and even abundance, of food, clothes, home furnishings, etc, without possessing a secure means of income that is immune from the “hand-to-mouth uncertainty which is the lot of the proletarian” (§64), an uncertainty that – the Pope will later argue – can only be remedied by ownership. If the Pontiff admits, however, that a propertyless worker can nevertheless live in equitable conditions, above pauperism, but still be a “non-owner,” what these workers do not own is productive property (land, tools or machines, raw materials, or liquid capital to be invested in such things), which provides a living, and not property for consumption, which only satisfies immediate wants or needs.23

Having established that the ownership in question in QA §§44–66 is the ownership of productive property, we now look at the Pontiff’s treatment of the distribution of ownership (which follows its mere vindication as a right in itself), to show that he was indeed aiming for a better, more widespread distribution. We take the argument in five parts.

First, the Pope decries the present distribution of property between the two classes, those possessing capital, and those possessing mere labor. Insofar as we have established above that, in general, the property that Pius is referring to throughout this part of the encyclical must be of the productive kind, his condemnation of the present state of property distribution must deal essentially with that kind of property.

Following his warning that “not every kind of distribution of wealth and property amongst men is such that it can at all, and still less can adequately, attain the end intended by God” (§60), he goes on to denounce as a “grave evil” (§61) “the vast differences between the few who hold excessive wealth and the many who live in destitution” (§61). More stridently, he then declares that “the immense number of propertyless wage-earners on the one hand, and the superabundant riches of the fortunate few on the other, is an unanswerable argument that the earthly goods so abundantly produced in this age of industrialism are far from rightly distributed” (§63). By denouncing the present distribution of “earthly goods,” the Pope prepares the way for the solution he will propose in the paragraphs that follow, as we see below.

With our second point we highlight the almost chronological approach the Pope takes in proposing a solution to the social question. His approach refutes any contention that might be made (in response, especially, to the first point above) that his remarks about the equitable distribution of wealth are restricted to the fruit of, or income produced by, productive property – i.e., that he is maintaining, in §§56, 60, and 61, that merely “profits” and “income” must be equitably shared. (Of course insofar as QA is partially a refutation of Socialism, it was necessary to reassert the right, long admitted by the Church, of the owners of capital to at least a portion of the income and profit generated by its employment; hence the discussion of the right disposition of capital’s proceeds.) The Pope indeed defends the right of capital to a share of income and proceeds, but in proposing that the non-owning workers become owners, his reference to the income and proceeds resulting from the combined effort of capital and labor is from that standpoint incidental, because he conceives of the proper distribution of income as a means to an end. The means of granting labor a larger share of income from productive activity are, in the mind of the Pope, ordained to achieving the end of making the non-owning workers into owners. This is clear from §§64 and 66 where the Pope demands an “ample sufficiency” of profits and fruits of production be provided to the wage-earner so that he may “acquire a certain moderate ownership.”

A close examination of the actual texts we have just cited, where the Pope demands the rectification of inequity in the distribution of income (irrespective of whether this rectification is a means or an end in itself – for arguably it is both), reveals that he also requires an adjustment to the inequity in the distribution of property in general.

For in §61, the Pontiff demands, yes, that each class “receive its due share” of profits, but he also maintains that in general – without reference only or specifically to income or the products of industry – “the distribution of created goods must be brought into conformity with the demands of the common good and social justice” (emphasis mine). The reference to social justice and the common good especially situates the Pope’s remarks within the framework of a discussion of that kind of property that provides people with a living, for it is the distribution of this productive property and how that distribution is handled in terms of a broad social institution – rather than just the availability of food and clothing to individuals or individual families – that is most bound up with the overall structure of society and the social order, and therefore properly discussed in terms of social justice and the common good.24 Two paragraphs later, the Pope contrasts, as we have seen, “the immense number of propertyless wage-earners on the one hand, and the superabundant riches of the fortunate few on the other” (§63), again without limiting his remarks only to income or products generated by the use of capital. Finally, in §64 the Pope expresses concern that without “efficacious remedies,” the “dispossessed laboring masses” in the newly capitalistic countries, along with the “immense army of hired rural laborers,” will remain “perpetually sunk in the proletarian condition” (emphasis mine).

Note the explicit reference to the propertylessness and “proletarian” status of wage-earners, propertylessnes that must refer to their non-ownership of productive property, and not their lack of the basic means of sustenance (i.e., property for consumption), which the Pope concedes elsewhere had been in certain areas mitigated and partially remedied since Leo XIII’s day. For it is the “condition” of not owning productive property that causes, as we have seen at §64, the “uncertainty” that is necessarily – the Pope almost offers a definition here – “the lot of the proletarian.” One has the sense here and elsewhere that the Pope means “proletarian” as an almost binary indicator of “status” (i.e., one is an owner or one is not), rather than simply as a descriptor of degree (i.e., that one doesn’t have enough material possessions, even if one has some).25 In fact this is the only way to read the Pope’s language, for no one could maintain that even the poorest of the “non-owning” masses did not possess some rags of clothing and some modest number of personal items. The point is, though, that this kind of ownership does not yield a living, while owning capital or land does so, when labor is applied to it. Confirming this interpretation is that fact that the Pope specifically calls, six years later, for efficacious methods to be applied to rectify the mal-distribution of property; he demands precisely that the methods adopted in furtherance of such an aim “will really affect those who actually possess more than their share of capital resources, and who continue to accumulate them to the grievous detriment of others” (DR §75, emphasis mine).

Third, running through QA, and appearing subtly in at least five different places, is the frequently neglected and unappreciated image of what without exaggeration we might call a frame of reference for the Pope’s broader discussion of ownership and property distribution. This is the man whose economic life of work and property are not disintegrated and divided, but rather united. Nell-Breuning posits, as an example, “the peasant who cultivates his own soil with his and his family’s labor” (p. 129). This ideal becomes, for the Pope, a foil for the masses who occupy the position of wage-earner: those who, in order to receive an income “derived from property” (as all income is, ultimately), “must approach an owner, offer his labor, and receive a remuneration for it.”26

The Pope briefly puts before us an image of the small proprietor in several places. One place is a reference to the title he may claim to the fruits of his labor (§53, emphasis mine): “The only form of labor, however, which gives the working man a title to its fruits, is that which a man exercises as his own master, and by which some new form or new value is produced.” The other is a reference point against which the non-owning laborers are compared (§56, emphasis mine): “…unless a man apply his labor to his own property, an alliance must be formed between his toil and his neighbor’s property….”

Now the need for a man who owns only labor to approach someone else who owns productive property, in order to seek employment and obtain income, arises precisely because the man does not own his own productive property. But, as we have already seen, the Pope specifically calls for ownership of property to be distributed among the class of laborers who presently do not own, even while he insists that “man is born to labor as the bird to fly” (§64).27 So he is aiming, at least in broad terms and to the extent feasible, at a re-union of work and property, of labor and ownership. Unless we are to believe – and this is both ludicrous, and distinctly refuted by §64 – that the Pope intends for the masses to come into ownership of proprietary and financial assets, such that they need not labor but can rather obtain income exclusively from property, the ideal envisioned, even though in the distance and a long ways off, must be the man who can apply labor “to his own property” (§56), as his own “master” (§53), so as to depend more upon himself and less upon the “uncertainty” (§64) of a wage built upon only the “alliance” (§56) between his toil and another’s property.

The small proprietor appears again at §72, where the Pope discusses the limits the capitalistic economy must observe in employing women and children. He rightly finds it “intolerable, and to be opposed with all Our strength,” that mothers of families be “forced to engage in gainful occupations outside the domestic walls to the neglect of their own proper cares and duties.” Now “gainful occupation” evokes employment for a wage, a necessity, as we have seen, principally for non-owning men and families. But Pius is far from condemning altogether the contribution of women and children to the home economy, just as he is far from condemning labor (even while he decries the proletarian status of the laborers). It is rather the homestead and the shop that are subtly offered as the ideal where “the rest of the family [can] contribute according to their power towards the common maintenance, as in the rural home or in the families of many artisans and small shopkeepers.” Here labor is joined to the family’s property, not to someone else’s. And again at §103 we find a reference, not to an individual, but to a whole social system that differs from that “in which were provided by different people the capital and labor jointly needed for production” (§101). As an example of this “[other] economic system” the Pope offers the peasant-owners, namely “the agricultural classes, who form the larger portion of the human family, and who find in their occupation the means of obtaining honestly and justly what is needful for their maintenance” (§103). And finally, when wrapping up a concluding section of the encyclical calling for a renewal of Christian principles and Christian charity, the Pontiff places before us a Model Who, though He spent His life “in labors” (§128), was not employed by the “Schwartz Lumber Conglomerate,” but Who had full share of ownership in “Joseph & Son, Proprietors”: namely, “Him Who, being in the form of God, chose to become a Carpenter among men, and to be known as the Son of a Carpenter” (§140).

As for the fourth of our arguments in defense of Pius XI’s call for a wider distribution of ownership of productive property, let us simply call attention to his clear language demanding that workers become owners. The “necessary object of Our efforts” is “the uplifting of the proletariat” (§62), an “uplifting” that, we have seen above, necessarily involves changing their status from non-owning workers to owners. “Efficacious remedies [must] be applied” (§62) to ensure that rural laborers do not remain “perpetually” in the “proletarian condition.” To accomplish this, the Pope calls for an “ample sufficiency” of the fruits of production to be supplied to the workingmen, so that, as we noted earlier, “they may increase their possessions” and become “freed from that hand-to-mouth uncertainty which is the lot of the proletarian” (§64). Finally, and convincingly, at §66 Pius demands that “the propertyless wage-earner be placed in such circumstances that by skill and thrift he can acquire a certain moderate ownership.”

Nell-Breuning’s gloss here is instructive, confirming this interpretation. He states the hard truth that to realize the Pope’s plan it may be necessary to make large estates available to “small and independent families.” His comment is striking and forthright, especially so because it makes clear that the Pope’s vision in calling for “ownership” is one that involves making men and families into independent proprietors, working their own productive property:

But is it the Pope’s intention to have his energetic measures cover the expropriation of large estates in order thus to create the means for the support of small and independent families? The answer is that this passage is silent in this respect. Therefore we should not attempt to interpolate a meaning it does not contain. We can merely ask ourselves whether we can speak of “efficacious” measures at all, if we renounce expropriation in principle, even as a last resort. We will also have to remember that, in discussing property, the Pope assigned extraordinary authority to the state whenever a genuine need of common welfare is involved. We also have to consider the fact that the Pope declares justified the so-called socialization of “certain forms of property” in certain circumstances (114). Considering all this, we can see no objections to the demand for expropriation of estates in order to make the rehabilitation of the agricultural wage-earners possible, provided of course, that such action is taken only after strict and very careful considerations.28

Nell-Breuning’s other important observation here regards the footnote, at §72, to Pius XI’s Casti Connubii. Our commentator (and he was in a position to know) maintains that this reference was meant to call attention to the Pope’s doctrine on marriage, specifically regarding the wages needed by the head of a family for its support. “The Pope is anxious not to be understood,” Nell-Breuning writes,

in the sense that, as a result of a law of nature, the family of the worker must live on the wages of the head of the house. It is by no means a natural condition, or one demanded by nature, that the family shall have no other means of support than the wage income of its father and head. Neither is it the will of nature or its Creator that the other members of the family permit themselves to be supported by the working head of the family without contributing their share for the common support. Here, too, our ideas are easily influenced by the picture of the wage-earners of metropolitan industry where indeed – except for the steadily decreasing activities of the housewife – the family members have no reasonable opportunity to contribute to the family support. Here we have actually the condition where the wife works in an office or factory, while the children from early youth are engaged in some trade; or the wife is limited to a little coking and sewing in a wretched tenement, while the children loaf in the house or on the street unless taken care of at a playground. Under such conditions which are, however, not natural, but most unnatural, the family has no other source of income than its father’s wages.29

If this all-too-familiar scene is not what Pius wishes to advocate in calling for wages high enough to support the family and its head, then we must return to the “rural home or…the families of many artisans and small shopkeepers,” specifically offered by the Pope as the example of a situation where the family does have a means of support beyond “the wage income of its father and head.” But the key here is the need for ownership of the property the family needs to generate an alternative “means” of support, and to enable its members to participate in the creation of wealth necessary for a life of modest material sufficiency and dignity.

Fifth, and finally: QA’s explicit references, in the area of distribution of property ownership, to the demands made by the predecessor of Pius XI and author of Rerum Novarum confirm beyond all doubt that family ownership of productive property is precisely is being advocated. Five times, over as many paragraphs, Pius XI refers specifically to what Leo XIII proposed as a way of both endorsing his own recommendations and vindicating and renewing Leo’s proposals. It is Leo XIII, says Pius, who urged “the uplifting of the proletariat” as the “necessary object of Our efforts” (§62). Leo’s injunctions “have lost none of their force or wisdom for our own age.” Pius XI’s calls, which we have just examined, that workingmen obtain an “ample sufficiency” so that they may rise out of their non-owning status; that they be “freed from….hand-to-mouth uncertainty which is the lot of the proletarian”; that they may be enabled to “support life’s changing fortunes” and pass on “some little provision for those whom they leave behind them” (§64); all of these are ideas that were “not merely suggested, but stated in frank and open terms” by Leo XIII. Finally, the Pope writes that the need for the “propertyless wage-earner…[to] acquire a certain moderate ownership” was “already declared by Us, following the footsteps of Our Predecessor” (§66).

And what were those footsteps that Pius intended to follow in?

One: The father of every family is enjoined in RN to “provide food and all necessaries for those whom he has begotten” and to enable them “who carry on, so to speak, and continue his personality, [to have] all that is needful to enable them to keep themselves decently from want and misery amid the uncertainties of this mortal life.” Fair enough. But how? “[I]n no other way,” says Leo XIII, “can a father effect this except by the ownership of productive property, which he can transmit to his children by inheritance” (RN §13, emphasis mine).30 Note the explicit parallel between this and Pius’s concern for what a workingman needs to pass on to his family.

Two: In Leo XIII’s own words:

If a workman’s wages be sufficient to enable him comfortably to support himself, his wife, and his children, he will find it easy, if he be a sensible man, to practice thrift, and he will not fail, by cutting down expenses, to put by some little savings and thus secure a modest source of income. Nature itself would urge him to this. We have seen that this great labor question cannot be solved save by assuming as a principle that private ownership must be held sacred and inviolable. The law, therefore, should favor ownership, and its policy should be to induce as many as possible of the people to become owners (RN §46, emphasis mine).

Many excellent results will follow from this; and, first of all, property will certainly become more equitably divided. For, the result of civil change and revolution has been to divide cities into two classes separated by a wide chasm. On the one side there is the party which holds power because it holds wealth; which has in its grasp the whole of labor and trade; which manipulates for its own benefit and its own purposes all the sources of supply, and which is not without influence even in the administration of the commonwealth. On the other side there is the needy and powerless multitude, sick and sore in spirit and ever ready for disturbance. If working people can be encouraged to look forward to obtaining a share in the land, the consequence will be that the gulf between vast wealth and sheer poverty will be bridged over, and the respective classes will be brought nearer to one another (RN §47, emphasis mine).


The fact that Pius XI makes an explicit allusion at §62 to RN §47 (see his use of the phrase “a share in the land”) makes irrefutable the contention that the Pope intended to adopt, vindicate, and re-promulgate these “injunctions” of his predecessor, both “salutary and imperative.”

Just as the explicit evocation of Leo removes all trace of doubt as to what Pius XI was calling for, should any have remained, the evocation of both Leo and Pius by Pope Pius XII in his memorial commemoration of Rerum Novarum offers a hindsight confirmation of our interpretation of Pius’s message in QA, far more authoritative than any gloss based merely on a close reading of the encyclical’s text and a few commentaries, no matter how reliable. In Pius XII’s June 1, 1941, Pentecost radio discourse, he provides “directive moral principles on three fundamental values of social and economic life...animated by the spirit of Leo XIII and unfolding his views.”31 Two related points made throughout his elaboration of these “directive moral principles” are to our purpose here in confirming the social message of his predecessor. The first is relevant to our consideration of the advantage of small proprietorship that is subtly implied by Pius’s call for the liberation of the non-owning worker from the “uncertainty” of dependence upon a wage, along with his endorsement of the contribution made to family upkeep, “as in the rural home or in the families of many artisans and small shopkeepers” (§72), by family members working on their property rather than someone else’s. On this head Pius XII repeatedly emphasizes that the purpose for the family’s private possession of productive property is to “secure for the father of a family the healthy liberty he needs in order to fulfill the duties assigned him by the Creator regarding the physical, spiritual, and religious welfare of the family.”32 Note the convergence between Pius XII’s call for the “healthy liberty” of the family and the demand of his immediate predecessor for liberation of non-owners from wage-earning “uncertainty.” And there is a similar dovetailing between the mutual approach of Pius XII and Leo XIII, who both view the need for the private possession of productive property as rooted primarily in the duty of a father to properly provide for all aspects of his family’s welfare. Pius XII notes this duty elsewhere in his discourse, confirming beyond doubt his clear conception of this reality, and his insistence upon it.33

The second point, relating to what Pius XII calls “the insistent call of the two Pontiffs of the social Encyclicals,”34 deals with the family’s plot of land – the smallholding – as that which nearest approximates to the ideal form of productive property possessed by the family, necessary for safeguarding its liberty to pursue and fulfill its economic, social, moral, and spiritual duties: “Of all the goods that can be the object of private property, none is more conformable to nature, according to the teaching of Rerum Novarum, than the land, the holding on which the family lives, and from the products of which it draws all of part of its subsistence.”35 The successor of Pius XI goes to far as to state, “in the spirit of Rerum Novarum,” that “as a rule, only that stability which is rooted in one’s own holding makes of the family the vital and most perfect and fecund cell of society....”36 Leo XIII’s demand that individuals be enabled to look forward to obtaining “a share in the land,” and Pius XI’s allusion to it, give substance to the continuity of aim that animates Catholic teaching on this point and inspired Pius XII’s confirmation of it, enabling us, in hindsight, to establish with precision the content of Quadragesimo Anno in this regard.

****

There is much more to Pius XI’s monumental social encyclical than its take on capitalism, work, and property, as His Excellency rightly highlights. But perhaps for the needs of our time these aspects are properly emphasized. With QA as our guide, we can think with the Church about that “thing” that moderns mean when they say “capitalism,” while we worry less about the label. We will support the idea of a Guild System, so clearly promoted in this and other social encyclicals. And we will work to foster as best we can in our own little circles, in our own families, at least, if not elsewhere, a wider distribution of ownership of productive property, striving both to see and to realize the ideal re-integration of work and property, where a man’s labor – which is obligatory on most all of us – is combined with his property rather than someone else’s. Let us become, with the doctrine of the Popes to inspire us, the peasant proprietors; the independent tradesman; the employee-owners; the self-employed entrepreneurs of a resurgent Christendom.

Given the outlook of Pope Pius XI on this question, it would not be gratuitous to see in his encyclical a word of encouragement for the Distributists (whose land movement he lauded as a “most praiseworthy enterprise” in a letter from then Cardinal Pacelli), the Corporatists, the Solidarists, and so many others of Social Catholic conviction who sought to understand the role of private ownership of productive property in society, to clarify it, and to mark its duties and limitations in view of the common good of society. “Most helpful therefore and worthy of all praise,” the Pope writes, “are the efforts of those who, in a spirit of harmony and with due regard for the traditions of the Church, seek to determine the precise nature of these duties, and to define the boundaries imposed by the requirements of social life upon the right of ownership itself or upon its use” (§48).

Of course no one would have the parochial temerity to call Pius XI a “Distributist.” Nevertheless, he laments the mal-distribution of productive property; defends its private ownership so far as to wish that more people had it; sees the solution to the plight of the employed masses in wage-earner “ownership”; insists that the right of property must conform to the needs of the common good, and must therefore be subject to regulation by the public authority in its interest (§§49–50); and expects, finally, that after following his program “the production and acquisition of goods [and] the use of wealth…will within a short time be brought back again to the standards of equity and just distribution” (§139, emphasis mine). So what, then, would we call him, especially in light of his principled, if unintentional, sanction of the outline for reform offered some years later by an English historian in a little essay called Restoration of Property?

Meanwhile, let Pius rouse our spirits for the battle ahead with the closing thoughts of QA. We must avoid, he says, as “valiant soldiers of Christ” who are ready to “strain every thew and sinew” (§148), modernism of the moral, social, and juridical kind (§46),37 lest we fall victim to a schizophrenia that cuts off social thought and public life from day-to-day Catholic duty, prayer, and worship – a “cleavage” in the conscience later condemned by the Pope as “a scandal to the weak, and to the malicious a pretext to discredit the Church” (DR, §55). Instead, we will reach outside our ramparts and invite the cooperation of all men of good will to apply Catholic principles (§98), adapting to modern needs the unchanging and unchangeable doctrine of the Church (§19). We will develop and thrust into public view a truly Christian social science (§20), and convince well-intentioned but erroneous social reformers that their just demands are more cogently defended by the Church and promoted by Christian charity (§118). We will avoid contributing to the calumny that the Church is on the side of the rich (§§44, 127) by ignoring her social teaching or, worse, by hiding immoral economic practice under her name.38 And, finally, because “nowadays the conditions of social and economic life are such that vast multitudes of men can only with great difficulty pay attention to…their eternal salvation” (§132), we endeavor “unremittingly” to reform society according to the mind of the Church (§128), imitating and attaining to the marvelous unity of the divine plan, which “the Church preaches” and “right reason demands” (§139).

As for the “final say” on work and property, perhaps we may be permitted to see in the words of the Carpenter of Nazareth regarding Holy Matrimony a lesson that is instructive here as well: “What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder” (St. Matt. xix:6).


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Saturday, January 26, 2008

Distributism in 1955: The Present Distribution of Property

by C.J. O'Connor S.J.


…it is obvious that not only is wealth concentrated in our times, but an immense power and economic dictatorship is consolidated in the hands of a few, who often are not owners but only trustees and managing directors of invested funds while they administer them according to their arbitrary will and pleasure.

This is Pius XI’s assayal of the present economic status of society. Pius XII makes a like analysis, “…(the Church) insists…on the need for a more just distribution of property and deplores the unnatural social situation in which an enormous mass of impoverished people live beside a small group of very rich and privileged.” At first sight these might appear as casual remarks and unimportant generalities. One might even be tempted to doubt these statements because it is a fact of common knowledge that in the U.S. there are millions of stockholders in the large corporations. And there are major authorities who furnish documentary proof to substantiate a parson’s doubts.

The National Association of Manufacturers defends the doctrine that free enterprise prevails in the U.S. economy; they build their position not so much on fact as on economic principle. For they say: “There is in the free enterprise system no natural economic tendency towards a general substitution of monopoly power and monopolistic restraint of trade for competitive prices and other features of a free competition.” Their’s is a philosophy of individualism, and it is something they are proud of.

Fr. Edward Keller, C.S.C. of Notre Dame University, in his two books, A Study of the Physical Assets Sometimes Called Wealth in the United States, 1922-1933, and Christianity and American Capitalism, attempts to establish that the Papal statements do not apply or pertain to the U.S. In the first book he has stated that in 1930 the total physical assets of the U.S. were $410,000,000,000. He divides these assets into two classes, 1) those for comfort – homes, automobiles, radios, etc., and 2) those for production. Now the comfort goods account for $222,000,000,000 of the total assets and the production goods account for $188,000,000,000 of the total assets. Since these classified under comfort goods – keep in mind these are privately owned – exceed fifty per cent of the total assets, Fr. Keller concludes that there is very equitable distribution of wealth in the U.S. Granting his calculations, it must be noted that what he classified as comfort goods, are for the most part absolute necessities. As such they are consumer goods and so do not contribute any revenue and hence cannot be the real foundation of any kind of liberty or security. He is in error in that he underestimates the value and importance of productive private property. Also in his analysis he overlooks the evils of big business and on the other hand is able to see only the abuses of bigness in government and unions.

Pius XI and Pius XII are not alone in their analyses of society. Hilaire Belloc estimated that nineteen-twentieths of the people in England owned no productive property. G.K. Chesterton made similar estimates, always decrying such a state of ownership. Wilhelm Ropke, the contemporary Swiss economist, in his diagnosis of our times makes much of the ill-distribution of property.

The classical contribution of a factual and statistical nature was made by Adolf A. Berle, Jr. and Gardiner C. Means in their book, The Modern Corporation and Private Property. Of almost equal importance were the findings of the Temporary National Economic Committee – published in forty-four monographs – which began its work in 1938 and issued its final report in 1941. A wealth of reliable information is to be found in these two sources.

Berle and Means set out to determine what was the condition of property ownership? How ownership was distributed? How was it held by owners? Their approach was to examine the assets and income of the 200 largest non-banking corporations in comparison with the assets and income of all U.S. industry. Nearly all of these corporations which they investigated had assets of over $100,000,000 and fifteen had assets over a billion dollars. But to what extent did these 200 companies dominate our economy? “There were over 300,000 financial corporations in the country in 1929. Yet 200 of these, or less than seven-hundredths of one per cent, control nearly half the corporate wealth.” Also it must be remembered that these large companies have a pale of influence extending beyond the limits of their ownership. Examples of this are the automobile dealers and service station operators – they own their own buildings and other necessary equipment, but to a great extent their policy is dictated by that of the product they sell. Concentration then, is the hallmark of our economy.

Even though wealth is concentrated in a few corporations there is abundant statistical evidence showing great diffusion of ownership of stocks in these corporations – with stockholders numbering in the millions. In 1952 American Telephone and Telegraph Company listed 1,100,00 stockholders. Omitting further figures, here is the conclusion made by Berle and Means on this problem:

We must conclude, then, that parallel with the growth in the size of the industrial unit, has come to a dispersion in its ownership such that an important part of the wealth of individuals consists of interests in great enterprises of which no one individual owns a major part.

No one even attempts to show that the contrary is true. Of course this does not demonstrate that most of the people in the U.S. are owners. In a recent survey of family stock ownership it was determined that ninety-two per cent of all families with incomes less than $3,000 a year only four per cent were stockholders. The import of stock dispersion is not so much that property has been distributed to all people, but that single corporations are not owned by one or two or even a small group of individuals.

However, the most revolutionary aspect of the modern corporation is the almost separation of ownership and control. The stockholder has become a passive and no longer an active partner in the business venture. This is true for a number of reasons. In many, many corporations it is physically impossible for the stockholder to exercise control because he owns such a small part of the whole corporation. For example, the stockholder lists of the Pennsylvania Railroad, the American Telephone and Telegraph Co., and the U.S. Steel Corporation, shows that the principal holder owns less than one per cent of the stock in any of these companies. Also in these three corporations no individual or small group owns a significant block of stock. In such corporations the board of directors and management exercises all of the control.

Where the ownership is spread so thinly almost by default the stockholder relinquishes his right of control. Yet where there is a slight concentration there are many devices and manipulations which will give control to a small group. A few of these are: interlocking directors, holding companies, issuance of non-voting stock, issuance of weighted voting stock to a particular group, organizing a voting trust and the use of proxies. Some examples. A few men may exercise tyranny over a giant corporation, even though they own but a minute percentage of its capital stock. The Van Sweringen Brothers controlled eight class-1 railroads having assets of $2,000,00,000 although their own investment was less than $2,000,000. Again in 1928, Dillon, Read and Co. with less than $2,250,000 ruled the entire Dodge Bros., Inc., a concern having assets of $130,000,000 representing investments of thousands of people. Also the Cities Service Co. and the Standard Gas and Electric. These two were billion dollar corporations, but for a time each was dictated to by a group owning only about a million dollars’ worth of stock.

Did this concentration of control prevail in the 200 largest corporations examined by Berle and Means? Here is their answer:

Approximately 2,000 men were directors of the 200 largest corporations in 1930. Since an important number of these are inactive, the ultimate control of nearly half of industry was actually in the hands of a few hundred men.

From this there can follow no doubt that Pius XI was speaking very realistically when he said:”…it is obvious that not only is wealth concentrated in our times, but an immense power and economic dictatorship is concentrated in the hands of a few…”

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Monday, September 17, 2007

All Our Thanks To Gilbert Magazine

We at The ChesterBelloc Mandate are very humbled to receive the following special mention from Gilbert Magazine. Of course, the very reason we are in existence is due to the majestic characters who have shaped Gilbert and the American Chesterton Society. It is they who deserve the support from not only our readers, but from the masses reading the works of Chesterton.

As always, this site exists as an archive, preserving what we can online, continuing the discussion and pursuing recognition of Distributism, the system of common sense, the avenue yet untried. Those great authors, from G.K. Chesterton to W.R. Titterton, Hilaire Belloc to the popes who inspired them, have a home here. It is our hope they outline sanity for our readers and that they, in turn, carry Fr. McNabb's words in their hearts: Servire Deo Regnare Est (God's Service is Kingship)

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Saturday, August 04, 2007

An Introduction to Distributism

by John Médaille




Distributivism, also known as Distributism, is an economic theory formulated by Hilaire Belloc and G. K. Chesterton largely in response to the principles of Social Justice laid down by Leo XIII in his encyclical Rerum Novarum. Its key tenet is that ownership of the means of production should be as widespread as possible rather than being concentrated in the hands of a few owners (Capitalism) or in the hands of state bureaucrats (Socialism). Belloc did not believe that he was developing a new economic theory, but rather expounding an old and widespread one against the novelties of both Capitalism and Socialism.

Belloc believed that Capitalism could never achieve economic equilibrium on its own. It is an unstable system for two reasons: divergence from its own moral theory and from insecurity of two kinds. The moral theory of Capitalism is based on freedom, but it tends to accumulate property in the hands of a few owners; as ownership becomes more and more limited, more and more power passes to a small capitalist class. The state increasingly becomes a tool to protect “wage contracts” which are increasingly leonine, that is, based on inequality. One side may refuse the contract (the employer), but the other side, the worker, generally has no choice but to accept it because the alternative is starvation. The state can no longer be a neutral arbiter between classes but becomes a defender of one class upon whom jobs and growth are increasingly dependent.

In addition to this moral problem,Capitalism also has two kinds of insecurity: insecurity for the workers and even insecurity for the capitalists. There is insecurity for the workers because the wage fetches less in old age, nothing in sickness, and jobs themselves are at the discretion of capitalists3 (e.g., “outsourcing”). But Capitalism also produces insecurity for the capitalist.

Competitive anarchy makes the system as unstable to owners as it is to workers and results in gluts and underselling. Capitalism responds by becoming less capitalistic; it uses the law to raise barriers to competition and to limit liability; the corporation itself is an adjustment to the inherent instability of Capitalism that allows investors to limit liability. The ardent socialist does not fear a pure Capitalism nearly as much as does the ardent capitalist.

Given its instabilities, Capitalism must, perforce, find some way of stabilizing itself. Belloc argues that there are only three stable solutions: slavery, socialism, or wide-spread ownership of property, (or some mixture of the three.) “To solve Capitalism you must either get rid of restricted ownership, or of freedom, or of both.” Of the three solutions, slave societies have shown themselves to be highly stable over long periods of time, but this solution is precluded by our Christian heritage. But the third solution, what Belloc calls the “proprietary state,” is regarded as untenable by the intellectual and political elites, which leaves only the second solution, some sort of socialism. Thus in practice Capitalism breeds a collectivist theory which leads to a servile state. The transition to socialism follows the line of least resistance because nothing really changes when the state buys up the waterworks or the rail lines. But socialist practice does not really mean socialism. In practice, socialism merely means increased regulation, a solution that appeals to both corporate interests and socialist “reformers.” Although the rhetoric is different, the results are the same. The “socialist” reformer continues to pile regulations on top of big business, a situation big business is more than content to see, because in return these regulations serve as entry barriers to potential competitors and thereby guarantee greater security from competition and hence greater security of profits. In turn, the capitalist becomes increasingly responsible for the welfare of the workers in return for a greater security of property and profits. In the end, you have neither socialism nor Capitalism, but servility, the servile state. The practical result of all of this is an increasing dependence of workers on the government and corporatist solutions. Health care, unemployment insurance, and retirement benefits pass from control by the individual to control by the corporation or the state.

The servile system has already begun. Indeed, it is already here. The differences between a “socialist” Europe and a “capitalist” America are merely differences of degree rather than of kind.
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Both depend on the same bureaucratic organization and social welfare systems. This state of affairs did not come about by way of conspiracy but by way of necessity; Belloc seems to have been absolutely correct in his predictions. Until the 1940’s, Capitalism was a highly unstable system suffering ever increasing cycles of economic euphoria and depression, culminating in the Great Depression of the 1930’s. The system needed help to stabilize itself exactly as Belloc said it would. The real change came with the introduction of Keynesian economics, which made the government responsible not just for this or that social welfare program, but for making up shortages in aggregate demand by redistributive taxes. In other words, Keynesianism is itself “distributist,” or rather “re-distributist”; but it redistributes income rather than property. Therefore the debate, in practical terms, is not between Distributivism and its opposite, but between kinds of Distributivism, between redistribution of income and distribution of property. But one way or another, economic liberalism cannot provide stability on its own; it needs the help of distributists of one sort or another. Income redistribution, being a constant and ongoing process, will always require a vast state apparatus to assess the funds on the one hand and determine eligibility on the other.

Keynesianism has been adopted by nearly every modern regime, whether of the right or left, because it seemed to work. As a result, the inherent instabilities of Capitalism have been rendered less extreme, with depressions rendered much milder than the convulsion which shook this country and Europe at the end of the 1920’s. But Keynesianism enlarged state power, taxes, and the size of government to previously unimagined levels. We have become accustomed to having the government solve all problems and do so at the highest possible level. Even right wing administrations have dropped all pretense of “federalism” and seek to intrude more and more on daily life; the teacher in his classroom, the cop on the beat, the shopkeeper in her store become increasingly the objects of federal concern and less of local regulation.

But today the future of the Keynesian arrangement seems in doubt. In both Europe and America, the costs of government seem ready to outstrip the ability of society to support them. Further, the willingness of corporate interests to continue the arrangement is ending; they have invested great sums and great energies in seeking an end to the system and their efforts are paying off. Corporations are seeking to externalize social costs that have theretofore been part of the wage system, such as medical insurance, pensions, and unemployment costs. However, it is doubtful that shifting these responsibilities can be accomplished without introducing the very insecurities that occasioned the arrangements in the first place. Thus the Keynesian system seems to be caught in a conundrum, the very conundrum pointed out by Belloc. It cannot continue its Keynesian bargain (and this is especially so in the face of global competition), and it cannot drop it without risking chaos.

The economic theory of Distributivism is based on the distinction between distributive justice and corrective justice found in Aristotle. Distributive justice deals with how society distributes its “common goods.” Aristotle defines these as “things that fall to be divided among those who have a share in the constitution” (Nicomachean Ethics, 1130b, 31-33). This refers to the common goods of a state, a partnership, corporation, or some cooperative enterprise. For Aristotle, these things should be divided by “merit” based on contributions, but what constitutes this merit will be a matter that is determined culturally, “for democrats identify it with the status of freeman, supporters of oligarchy with wealth (or with noble birth), and supporters of aristocracy with excellence” (Ethics, 1131a, 25-29). Corrective justice, on the other hand, deals with “justice in exchange”; that is with transactions between individual men. In this case, justice consists in exchanging equal values, in “having an equal amount before and after the transaction" (Ethics, 1132b, 19-21). Corrective justice is properly the subject of economic science per se, while distributive justice is irreducibly cultural and involves decisions about what constitutes a just distribution.

Modern economics tends to treat distributive justice in one of two ways. For the socialist or the Keynesian, it is primarily a political question and necessitates control of the economy by the state. For the orthodox neoclassical economist, distributive justice will be the unintentional result of the achievement of equilibrium under conditions of perfect competition (cf. John Bates Clark, The Distribution of Wealth); in other words, equity would be an automatic by-product of equilibrium. Hence distributive justice is swallowed up, as it were, by corrective justice and accomplished without anyone intending it, the very essence of the “invisible hand” theory. However, this has never happened and is never likely to happen. It is not only that the necessary conditions (e.g., “perfect” competition) can never be satisfied, nor even that justice, a virtue, cannot be divorced from human intentionality. Rather, the problem is with the very nature of corrective justice, which is “equality in exchange.” Thus corrective justice tends to perpetuate whatever division of property existed before the exchange; distributive equity cannot therefore result from exchanges (Cf. Pareto optimality). But for the Distributivist, distributive justice is prior to corrective justice (as it was for Aristotle and Aquinas), just as production is prior to exchange. Thus equity is prior to equilibrium, and equity will depend on the distribution of the means of production. Equity is not the by-product of equilibrium but its cause; indeed, equity and equilibrium are practically the same word and very nearly the same thing.

Distributivism is often viewed as a romantic “back to the land” movement, or even a desire to return to the Middle Ages. But this criticism is unjustified. Indeed, well-divided property has both a long history and a current presence. Two examples should suffice: the “land to the tiller” programs of Korea and Taiwan, and the Mondragón Cooperative Corporation. In Korea and Taiwan after the Second World War, the estates were broken up and sold to the peasants at a rate well below market values. The resulting increase in purchasing power of the previously penniless peasants spurred the growth of business and industry and catapulted these nations from backward and oppressive societies to modern industrial states in only one generation. In the Mondragón Cooperative, 77,000 worker-owners do $16 Billion/year in sales making everything from muzzle loading hunting guns to modern built-to-order factories. They also operate an extensive network of social programs, schools, colleges, training institutes and research facilities. In addition, we can cite an impressive number of successful ESOP’s and other employee owned businesses. Thus Distributivism would seem to be perfectly adaptable to the modern world and even confers competitive advantages.

Leo XIII in Rerum Novarum viewed the just wage as the means of spreading ownership; Belloc reversed that by finding that wider ownership was the means of achieving the just wage. In this, Belloc appears to be correct, as John Paul II acknowledged when he called for associating the worker with the ownership of the workbench at which he labored. It should be clear that the only way to reduce the size of government and increase the range of freedom and justice is to eliminate the need for big government. But as long as there are great imbalances in wealth and poverty, there will be great bureaucracies in government and industry.


©John C. Médaille
http://www.medaille.com/distributivism.html
john@medaille.com

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Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Are We Reactionary?

by G.K. Chesterton



In our last issue Sir Henry Slesser quoted at length from the debates of the House of Commons a perfectly lucid and logicial and solid criticism of the social policy which we pursue. It was by Mr. Montague, a Labour member; and apparently the only Labour member to maintain what many suppose to be the whole Labour policy. He criticised our conception from the point of view of the old Fabian intellectual; who did at least differ from many other intellectuals by the possession of an intellect. This criticism, being concerned with fundamental and essential questions of public policy, was very little reported in the press. Newspapers are necessarily limited in their space; and we who are beginners would be the last to deny the difficulties of making up a page. And if the newspapers were to admit into their columns any considerable discussion of what is to happen to the English land or the English labouring class, they would find it impossible to print at length the fourth housemaid's fifth reiteration, in the witness box, that she never saw anything particular about the demeanour of Captain Bingle towards Lady Brown. We should be driven to content ourselves with only five photographs of people paddling in the summer or ski-ing in the winter. We shall endeavour to provide Mr. Montague with an adequate reply, but we feel some pride in the fact that we are probably among the few who will give him even an adequate report.

It is necessary to deal here with the charge of being reactionary and what is really implied in it. It is popularly expressed, as our contributor has noted, in the common phrase about putting back the clock. It makes the brain reel to think how how many million times we have been told that we cannot put back the clock. It is strange that people should use the same mechanical metaphor in the sam mechanical spirit so many times without once seeing what is wrong with it. It looks rather as if their clocks, anyhow, had stopped. If there is one thing in the world that no sane man ought to connect with the idea of unlimited progress, it is a clock. A clock does not strike twelve and then go on to strike thirteen or fourteen. If a clock really proceeded on the progressive or evolutionary principle, we should find it was half-past a hundred in about a week. So far as the significance of the signs go, which is the only value of a clock, the case is altogether the other way. You do not need to put the clock back; because in that sense the clock always puts itself back. It always returns to its first principle and its primary purpose; and in that respect at nay rate it is really a good metaphor for a social scheme. The clock that had completely forgotten the meaning of one and two would be valueless; the commonwealth that has completely forgotten the meaning of individual dignity and direct ownership will never recover them by going blindly forward to an infinity of number; it must return to reality. It must be reactionary, if that is reaction.

But if that is reaction, a great many other things are reactionary. For instance, a Trade Union was and is utterly reactionary. Indeed, when it first appeared it was regarded as reactionary; especially by the people who then considered themselves most progressive. It was regarded by the Radical of the industrial revolution as a piece of unscientific sentimentalism and ignorant discontent. And so it was, upon the principles then counted scientific. The Trade Union was reactionary if the Manchester School was progressive. And the Manchester School was certainly thought itself progessive; and indeed everybody else thought so, too; it was not only praised as progressive but dreaded and denounced as progressive. What is the use, therefore, of Mr. Montague throwing the word "reactionary" at us, when his own grandfather might have thrown the word "reactionary" at him? The Trade Union reacted almost automatically towards the tradition of the Guild because individualism was driving on indefinitely to insanity; because that mechanical clock had gone mad, and was striking a million. We react towards the tradition of the peasant because the divorce between property and personality has become equally impossible; so that a man is not even a clock but one of the works of a clock.

If we can dispute with Mr. Montague over the term "reactionary" we might dispute with him still more over the term "medieval." About that we have a very simple thing to say. If Mr. Montague will get into a little boat and sail away from his native land in any direction whatever (short of the North Pole) he will probably land in a country where small ownership is a living, thriving, staring modern reality, in a greater or less degree according to the inroads of the last "progressive" fad of industrialism. If he goes west and lands in Ireland he will find it. If he goes east and lands in Denmark he will find it. If he goes almost anywhere he will find it much more fully developed than he will find it here. Everywhere doubtless it is modified or thwarted; everywhere doubtless it might be improved; but everywhere it is a thing of the present. If anything in the world is modern, small property is modern. He might as well say the decimel coinage is medieval; for almost every place which has a decimel coinage has some measure of small property. He might as well say Napoleon was a medieval figure; for this tendency has largely followed the code Napoleon. In a legal or strictly historical sense, indeed, Mr. Montague's implication is wildly correct. Medieval civilisation was indeed progressing towards private property for all, when it was split asunder by that strange earthquake whether economic or theological. But medieval civilisation started with the legal fiction of feudalism, by which the land belonged to the King; that is, to the State. In other words medieval civilisation started with the fiction of Socialism. It is Mr. Montague who is medieval. It is Mr. Montague who is reacting towards the first heraldic fictions of the feudal age. We hand him back the emblazoned escutcheon with a bow. Modern Europe, swarming with prosaic and practical peasants, is good enough for us.

Of course, we know what he really means, whether he knows it or not, by our being medieval. He means something that has many other euphemisms. He means something that has survived medievalism thought it made medievalism, just as it survived feudalism though it mitigated feudalism, just as it survived slavery though it dissolved slavery. We know its name if he does not; and we beg to inform him that this also is an exceedingly modern institution. If he will sail round the world in his little boat, he will find out how modern. But nobody expects him to argue on the assumption of Catholic Christianity, and therefore it is irrelevant to deal with that matter here. We will only say that, if he cares for a hint about the nature of the thing in its varied effects, he will find it in the notion of the Will which is at the root of all liberty. Because that philosophy favours voluntary association, it supports Guilds and Trades Unions; because it believes in a province for volition it favours property. And he will find this study more philosophical than playing with a clock and talking of politics in terms of time. It is bad enough when he merely calls that reactionary to-day which was reactionary yesterday.

We shall find an opportunity elsewhere of discussing in greater detail the practical criticisms involved in Mr. Montague's most interesting speech; here we are only concerned with the particular reproach of reaction. But in a general fashion we may say this. Mr. Montague's ideal society is one in which no man will ever have any real control; even over himself. The advantage of the plan he deprecated, the plan by which each worker in a factory might also be an independent worker on the land, is that each man would have something to fall back upon, and that is fundamental. Suppose, for instance, there is a strike; presumably in that case there will be a strike fund. We certainly have never indulged in the vulgar, grumbling, against strike funds or strikes. But after all a strike fund must be in the hands of officials; just as all the money of the Treasury is in the hands of officials. In theory we have control over the money in the Treasury. In practice, men may come to have as little control over the Trade Union fund as over the Treasury. Of course, this iwll not affect one who does not want the people to rule; who would uphold the Trade Union against the Trade Unionists. But the people we want to rule are people and not offices. Against the despotic thing called Supply we set the democratic thing called Demand.

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Thursday, July 05, 2007

G.K. Chesterton: Common Sense Apostle and Cigar Smoking Mystic

by Dale Ahlquist



Dale Ahlquist, author of G.K. Chesterton: Apostle of Common Sense and president of the American Chesterton Society, reflects on the robust, timeless faith of the rotund, timely G.K. Chesterton.


There comes a time in the life of any artist, any writer or poet, when he reaches the end of his abilities, when he finds himself wrestling all night with an angel. It is the moment when he tries to think the thought which thought cannot think, to visualize the invisible and describe the indescribable. He can arrive early or late at that moment in his career, but it changes everything. It is an encounter with the Absolute. It means either an end or a beginning. Either the artist limps away with discouragement at not being able to rise above himself, his creativity exhausted and extinguished. Or else, when grappling with the angel, the artist grabs hold and refuses to let go until he is given a blessing, and with it a new name and a new vision. At that moment filled with eternity, his art and his words pass from one realm into another. They become immortal.

A Giant Shadow Cast by an Illuminating Mind

Anyone who has ventured across the great shadow of Gilbert Keith Chesterton has discovered that Chesterton's angel was no match for him. The wrestling match is a hard one to imagine, but perhaps what happened was the giant artist and apologist finally sat on the angel’s head, and the angel was only too happy to give that special blessing which enabled G.K. Chesterton to rise forever above mere art or polemics. Chesterton’s poetic prose (and poetic poetry) overflows with eternal truth. His defense of Christianity bursts with logic and insight. His words are as wise and wonderful, as vital and as far-reaching today as when they were first written.

Chesterton could take on any subject and get to its essence, exposing the hidden core, and illuminate it with heavenly light. Any essay by Chesterton on any subject is not only pertinent, but transcendent. He can write about losing a piece of chalk, and point to a profound eternal truth: in this case, that white is a color; it is not the absence of color. Virtue is not merely the absence of vice; it is something pure and positive. Chastity is not merely abstention from sexual wrong, "it means something flaming, like Joan of Arc."

G.K. Chesterton was a master of every literary genre he tried—poetry, fiction, theology, philosophy, history, literary criticism—yet he considered himself nothing more than a mere journalist. But his chalk dust provides more content than most of today's newspaper essays, which rival even television in terms of vapidity. The typical essay, the op-ed piece, the supposedly well-carved, well-polished idea offered by our current critics is, more often than not, often trite, pointless, banal. It is no wonder that today's readers don't read because today's writers cannot even find anything to write about.

"There is Only One Subject!"

The world, you would think, should be full of subjects, but today’s journalists seem to be groping in the dust and in the dark. There is a reason, however, why they aim so low and still miss. They are avoiding something. Chesterton, who wrote about everything, said "There is only one subject." But most columnists and criers haven't figured out what that subject is. Consider the subjects to which we are subjected, the yawning range of yawns: Public Access. Recovering Prairies. Playing Survival. Surviving Playtime. Inclusive Language. Intrusive Non-Language. Deconstructed Dialects. Designer Dogs. De-neutered Dolls. Deadbeat Dads. Deadend Kids. Drug-dealing Doctors. Disgruntled Doctors. Disgruntled Drug-dealers. Even though they don't promise much, they still promise more than they deliver.

The points they make are so small and so insignificant that it hardly matters that they are wrong—which they usually are—and trying to take them on in meaningful debate would seem to be a waste of time and effort. But avoiding the debate is to play into their hands, because avoiding the argument is a way of avoiding the truth. Their arguments as they stand are a conscious and studied avoidance of the truth, words calculated not to deceive so much as to distract.

They avoid the truth because they avoid God. When Chesterton said, "There is only one subject," he was of course referring to that subject that today's wordsmiths go out of their way to avoid: God. Avoiding God as a subject leaves one with very little else to talk about. In fact, with nothing else to talk about. Which is why it all seems so insipid. Because it is.

But pursuing God rather than avoiding God opens up the whole creation and sheds light on every other subject, every other care, every other concern under the sun.

However, the danger of pursuing God is where it leads. To God—and nothing else. All those other concerns which seemed so important, so momentous, simply drop out of sight.

A Cigar-Smoking, Wine-Drinking Mystic

Thus, the avoidance of God leaves us with nothing else to talk about. The pursuit of God leaves us…with nothing else to talk about.

But the former is vanity; the latter is mysticism.

Chesterton says that the mystic "passes through the moment when…there is nothing but God." That is not a conclusion that one can reach merely by reading books, even books about the saints. Chesterton was able to write with authority about profound ideas, to write with an insider’s understanding of mysticism because he clearly passed through that moment when there was nothing but God.

As we said, the image of Chesterton wrestling with an angel is a striking one, but all the more striking because it is true. The three-hundred pound, cigar-smoking, wine-drinking journalist was nothing less than a mystic. A paradox, you say? Well, Chesterton specialized in paradoxes.

The paradox about mysticism is that it is not mysterious. The real mystic is down to earth. Chesterton says the real mystic reveals mysteries; he does not conceal them. Mysticism, he says, is simply a transcendent form of common sense. Both appeal to realities that we all know to be real even if we cannot prove them. Both appeal to something basic and fundamental. Common sense is about what we have in common. The ultimate thing we have in common is our Creator. Thus, common sense is a religious truth. At the other end of the spectrum, mysticism is about facing the ultimate, undiluted truth, which is God. So reality begins and ends with God, who is beginningless and endless. Everything in between is the glory of his creation, which glorifies the Creator.

G.K. Chesterton understood this, and this explains why he was so persistently right, and why we can read him today with such enormous benefit.

It is no exaggeration to say that Chesterton dealt with all the problems that plague modern society, and he provided the antidote. But the most amazing thing about his medicine is how sweet it is to swallow. Chesterton is the most quotable writer of the twentieth century. But there is reason he turns a phrase so well. It rings because it has the ring of truth. As the great Thomistic philosopher Etienne Gilson said, "Chesterton was one of the deepest thinkers who ever existed. He was deep because he was right."

A Taste of G.K.’s Greatness

Chesterton’s quotations are condensed depth and rightness. They go to the heart of the matter and stick in the mind:

I should think that the worst moment for the atheist comes when he is really thankful—and yet has nobody to thank. Every high civilization decays by forgetting obvious things.

It is a very common phrase of modern intellectualism to say that the morality of one age can be entirely different to the morality of another. And like a great many other phrases of modernintellectualism, it means literally nothing at all.

The decline of the strong middle class…has left the other extremes of society further from each other than they were. When people begin to ignore human dignity, it will not be long before they begin to ignore human rights.

Some new scientists are only interested in the beastly side of men. Instead of making the ape and tiger mere accessories to the man, they make man a mere accessory, a mere afterthought to the ape and tiger. Instead of employing the hippopotamus to illustrate their philosophy, they employ the hippopotamus to make their philosophy, and the great fat books he writes you and I, please God, will never read.

The essence of medical cure is that a man is a patient. But the essence of moral cure is that the patient must be impatient. Nothing can be done unless he hates his own sin more that he loves his own pleasure.

The fact that a chaotic and ill-educated time cannot clearly grasp that truth does not alter the fact that it always will be the truth. Our generation, in a dirty, pessimistic period, has blasphemously underrated the beauty of life and cravenly overrated its dangers. As for our own society, if it proceeds at its present rate of progress and improvement, no trace or memory of it will be left at all.

It is possible to get quite drunk on Chesterton quotations. They come in endless supply, and one doesn’t ever know when to stop. Each marvelous thought opens up whole worlds: the world that is and the world that should be.

So, how did he do it? How did he see our modern dilemmas so well and see also the solution to them? Because he saw the truth first and the lie afterwards. The lie is the problem, whether it is an open attack on the truth or a mere distraction. We tend to see the lies and the distractions first as we grope towards the truth.

For Chesterton the truth is recognizable by the fact that it is attacked from all sides and attacked for opposite reasons. Liars hate the truth so much that they don’t mind contradicting themselves.

The Kingdom Called "The Family"

There are two central truths that Chesterton defends: the Family and the Faith. All of modern society is waging a war on these two truths. The attack on the family is an attack on life itself, and the attack on the faith is an attack on the Creator of life.

Chesterton argues that the family is the basic unit of society, like the cell is to the body. If you break apart the cell into smaller parts you destroy the body. Thus, if we emphasize individual rights, we always undermine the family, and we end up giving control to an outside and unnatural force: the State. He says the only people who have a standard by which to criticize the state are those to whom the family is sacred. The family is like a little kingdom that creates and loves its own citizens. "The first things must be the very fountains of life, love and birth and babyhood; and these are always covered fountains, flowing in the quiet courts of the home."

Chesterton says he has more sympathy with the "ordinary jolly burglar" than with the cynical architect of the modern state, who "instead of stealing decently for his family, wants to steal the very idea of a family from his fellow-men." That is exactly what has happened. The very idea of family has been stolen. There are enemies of the family who are trying to destroy it merely by redefining it, calling for homosexual marriage, calling for non-marriage, calling anybody living with anybody doing anything they want a family. The major victims in this assault on the family are the children, who have been abused, neglected, or worst of all, snuffed out.

Chesterton recognizes a triune attack on the family: divorce, feminism and sexual immorality. Divorce is the most obvious attack, but ironically because it is so obvious it has become the most ignored. We have resigned ourselves to accept divorce almost nonchalantly, as if it were something normal. Marriage has lost its meaning because the vow has lost its meaning. Divorce is only half the problem of divorce. The other half of it is re-marriage. Chesterton points out that if the marriage vow can be conveniently broken and then made again with someone else, it sort of takes the romantic element out of the vow, emptying the vow of its importance. This is what Chesterton calls the "superstition" of divorce: the notion that vows suddenly mean something in a second marriage when they evidently did not mean anything in a first marriage. "The most obvious effect of frivolous divorce will be frivolous marriage."

While divorce literally rips apart the family, feminism and sexual immorality are more subtle enemies that undermine the family both from the inside and the outside.

Feminist Weakness vs. Feminine Power

The basic problem of feminism is the misconception that men and women are equal. It may come as a shock to some people, but there is in fact a difference between men and women. Chesterton says, "The difference between man and woman accounts for almost everything important that has happened. We must realize that when we try to make man and woman alike."

He says that of the two sexes, the woman is in the more powerful position. The woman controls the home, that fundamental unit of society. If you control the home, you control society. Chesterton says, "When I think of the power of woman, my knees knock under me." Ironically, the feminists, by giving up their power in the home, gave up all their power. When they moved into the workplace, most women certainly became like most men in that they became wage slaves, but they did not gain anything, and they certainly did not gain power. It was a distinct step downward. "What is called the economic independence of women is the same as what is called the economic wage-slavery of men."

Feminists lost the privilege of raising their children to a day-care industry or a public school. Or they did something even worse: they killed their children.

No Birth, No Control, No Progress

Chesterton spoke out eloquently against birth control, first of all attacking the dishonesty of the very term itself. It is called birth control, when in fact it isn’t birth and it isn’t control. In one of his many prophetic utterances Chesterton says, "I might inform those humanitarians who have a nightmare of new and needless babies (for some humanitarians have that sort of horror of humanity) that if the recent decline in the birth-rate were continued for a certain time, it might end in there being no babies at all; which would console them very much."

He warned that the birth control would lead to abortion and it would be considered a sign of "progress." Progress is a meaningless term that is praised by a secular society. You cannot have actual progress until you define your goal or your ideal; then you can determine whether or not you are moving closer to achieving it. But the world considers a thing "progressive" not by what it is moving towards but by what it is moving away from. If a tradition is destroyed, it is called "progress." Progress is a slippery word that keeps changing its shape. In his prophetic book Eugenics and Other Evils, Chesterton says that evil always takes advantage of ambiguity. "Evil always wins through the strength of its splendid dupes…and there has in all ages been a disastrous alliance between abnormal innocence and abnormal sin."

Feminism is certainly an example of the disastrous alliance between innocence and evil. Feminists complain of real wrongs against women, but then make an alliance with an evil that is much worse. They glorify something called "choice" (another ambiguous word) and convince themselves that killing babies has something to do with dignity. The feminists are "splendid dupes," who have given up the freedom and power they had in the home to become wage slaves in the workplace, and who have given up God’s most sacred gifts of birth and motherhood while claiming they are exercising "reproductive freedom."

The Clear Danger of Ambiguous Education

Another ambiguous word is "Education." It is held up as an ideal, but like "progress," the word has become meaningless, and another way to dupe people. Chesterton says, "A great curse has fallen upon modern life with the discovery of the vastness of the word Education." The public school has replaced the primary functions of the family. It has separated children from their parents. And it has separated children from the truth. Education, says Chesterton is supposed to be simply truth in the state of transmission, passing what has been learned from one generation to the next. "It ought to be the oldest things that are taught to the youngest children, the assured and experienced truths that are put first to the baby. But in a school today the baby has to submit to a system that is younger than himself." Amazingly, he said that in 1910, in his unnervingly relevant book, What’s Wrong with the World. He warned that the state would have unimaginable power if it controlled education. He also warned that while we were debating about the theoretical merits of birth control, it would be imposed into a practical program before we were even aware of it, and it would be "applied to everybody and imposed by nobody."

Birth control, of course, paves the way to sexual immorality, which is another destructive force against the family. In 1926, Chesterton warned that the next great heresy would be an attack on morality, especially sexual morality. "The madness of tomorrow is not in Moscow, but much more in Manhattan." Indeed, Soviet Communism collapsed under its own official weight (as Chesterton predicted it would) and really did not turn out to be the ultimate threat to free world. But the sex industry, under the mantle of Capitalism, is a silent, slippery beast that slithers in the dark and has its tentacles everywhere and is destroying our society.

Nothing in our entertainment industry honors marriage and the family. It always mocks what is good and dresses up evil and calls it good. "The world," says Chesterton, "has abandoned morality plays; and can only be truly earnest over immorality plays."

Enslaved to Entertainment and Employment

A big part of the problem is that entertainment is an "industry." We have lost the ability to entertain ourselves. We have become passive. Chesterton says that a society is in decay when it employs "a professional to dance for them, a professional to fight for them, and a professional to rule them." When we don’t do basic things for ourselves, it means we have lost our freedom. We have even lost that fundamental freedom of thinking for ourselves.

The entertainment industry is only one element of the whole industrial machine that has ground up the family in its so-called wheels of progress. One of the most neglected of ideas of Chesterton (along with all his other neglected ideas) is Distributism. Distributism simply is another defense of the family. It is the idea that families should be self-sufficient and not be dependent either on the feds or on a factory. Wage slavery should not be confused with freedom. A wage-slave is still a slave. The opposite of employment, says Chesterton, is not unemployment; it is independence.

The point is that all these forces conspire against the family, attacking it from all sides, and sometimes for opposite reasons: divorce, feminism, immorality, big government, big business. Everything in the modern world—our entertainment, our literature, our newspapers—tries to cover up the basic truth that Chesterton defends, that the "real habitation of Liberty is the home." Chesterton defends self-employment and self-sufficiency because he believes it is the best way to protect the family. "If individuals have any hope of protecting their freedom, they must protect their family life."

The Religion of Irreligion

The attack on the family is directly connected to the attack on the Faith. That is because the family is directly connected to the Holy Family. Every father is Joseph: a craftsman, a protector, a provider. Every mother is Mary: a servant, a model, an intercessor. Every child is Jesus: a visitor from heaven, entrusted for a time to his parents. Marriage is a sacrament. It is reveals a religious truth: that love is unconditional and that love is life-giving.

The attack on the family is above all an attack on a religious truth. And it is an attack on the religion that has revealed this truth: the Roman Catholic Church. Defending the faith means defending the family. But it also means defending the faith, its precepts, its practices, its purity. The attacks come from all sides and are both subtle and overt. Chesterton says, "What is really working in the world today is Anti-Catholicism and nothing else."

What we are fighting is a new and false religion, much more powerful but much less noble than that against which our civilization strove in the Crusades. But in the clearest minds it may almost be called a religion of irreligion. It trusts itself utterly to the anarchy of the unknown; and, unless civilization can sober it with a shock of disappointment, it will be for ever inexhaustible in novelties of perversion and pride.

This "religion of irreligion" is the most subtle of all the attacks on the Church, the idea that it doesn’t matter what you believe, and therefore it is best to not even talk about it. Chesterton says religious freedom is supposed to mean that we are free to discuss our religion. In practice, however, it means that we are barely allowed to mention it. We have ironically reached the point where all we can talk about is the weather, and we call that free speech and "the complete liberality of all creeds."

Chesterton says, "The opponents of Christianity would believe anything except Christianity." We have indeed seen the most bizarre sects and cults taken seriously while the Church is ridiculed.

One Holy, Whole Catholic Church

He also recognizes that every Protestant "sect" is indeed a "section" of the wholeness of the Catholic Church. Every heresy has taken some part of the truth and discarded the rest. Thus, the Lutherans became obsessed with "faith alone," Calvinists with the sovereignty of God, Baptists with the Bible, Seventh Day Adventists with the Sabbath, and so on. Meanwhile they stand outside the Church and throw stones from all sides. The Catholic Church is attacked for being too austere or too gaudy, too material or too spiritual, too worldly or too otherworldly, too complicated or too simplistic. Catholics are criticized for being celibate but also for having too many babies, criticized for being unfair to women but also because "only women" go to Mass.

The modernists complain that the Catholic Church is dead, and complain even louder that it has so much power and influence. The secularists admire Italian art while despising Italian religion. The world rebukes Catholics for their sins, and worse still, for confessing their sins. Protestants say Catholics don’t take the Bible seriously and then criticize them for being so literal about the Eucharist. Yet, as Chesterton points out, they take off their hats in churches even while denying that Christ is present on the altar.

Ultimately every attack on the Church is an attack on the priesthood and the Eucharist. Every attack on the Church is an attack on Christ, God who came in the flesh, and who founded a Church and who held up the bread and the cup and said, "This is my body. This is my blood."

Chesterton says there is only the Catholic Church and its enemies. Long before his conversion he said that if every man lived a thousand years, "every man would end up either in utter pessimistic skepticism or as member of the Catholic creed." He knew that everyone outside of the Church is either moving toward it or away from it. Just like everyone outside of heaven. We are making our choice for or against God.

Chesterton defended the Church even when he was still an outsider. Ironically, today we sometimes have to defend the Church against insiders, against Catholics who would undermine their own faith. Chesterton says there have been times in the Church’s history when it has been too much wedded to the world. But when it has been wedded to the world, he says, it has always found itself widowed by the world.

When Chesterton died in 1936, Pope Pius XI called him a Defender of the Faith. He is still a defender of the faith, an apologist for right reason and divine revelation, as his words are still effective weapons against the attacks that come from all sides. He flings his opponents off with ease. He is still a maker of converts, turning his enemies into friends, his opponents into allies, wrestling with angels and refusing to let go.

(Originally published as "G.K. Chesterton: Oversized Apologist in an UnderFaithed World" in Envoy magazine, volume 7.3.)

© 2004

Dale Ahlquist is the president and co-founder of the American Chesterton Society. He is the creator and host of the television series, “G.K. Chesterton: The Apostle of Common Sense,” on EWTN. Dale is the publisher of Gilbert Magazine, author of The Chesterton University Student Handbook, editor of The Gift of Wonder: The Many Sides of G.K. Chesterton, associate editor of the Collected Works of G.K. Chesterton (Ignatius). He has been called “one of the most respected Chesterton scholars in the world” and has delighted audiences around the country with his variety of talks on the great English writer. He is a graduate of Carleton College (B.A.) in Northfield, Minnesota, and Hamline University (M.A.) in St. Paul, Minnesota. He lives near Minneapolis with his wife and five children. Like Chesterton, Dale is a Catholic convert and a joyful defender of the Catholic Faith. He can be contacted at info@chesterton.org.

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