Political economists have not overlooked efficiency of labour: they have underestimated its importance in the opinion of Edward Wilson, who has supplied me with the examples and arguments that follow and who has verbally given me leave to publish as much as I like. The English workman, especially in a country town of moderate size, regards capital as unlimited, employment ("work") as limited. A wall six feet high is to be built along the length of a certain garden: if one bricklayer is employed, the fewer bricks he lays daily the more days' employment he will get; if several bricklayers are employed, the fewer bricks one lays daily the more employment is left for the others. It thus appears that the more inefficient the labourer is, the better for himself, his fellow-handicraftsmen, and for "labour" in general: the more money is drawn from the capitalist. There is a grain of truth in this view with respect to petty unavoidable repairs in a narrow locality: but the capital spent on such is as a drop in the ocean compared with that embarked in a single large work. Consider the case of the London Building Trade, as practised in the suburbs on all sides of London. The London bricklayers thoroughly believe that it is their interest to be inefficient: it is said that they have a rule that no bricklayer shall ever lay a brick with the right hand; they have also a rule against "chasing," i.e. that no bricklayer, whatever his skill, shall lay more than a certain number of bricks a day; they believe that if the bricklayer laid a larger number of bricks he would get no more pay for a harder day's work, while the "work" would afford employment to a smaller number of labourers. Look however a little further. The speculative builders round London compete against each other, so that they carry on their trade on ordinary trade profits. Such a builder is building streets, house after house, each house costing him £800, and selling for £1000 say; and this, after paying his interest at the bank, etc., pays him about 10 to 15 per cent on his own capital embarked. Suppose now that the bricklayers increase their inefficiency either by a trade rule or by a combination to shorten the hours of labour. The cost of each house is increased £50 to him: nothing in the new bricklaying rules or rates affects the purchasers; the builder estimates that his profits will fall to 5 to 8 per cent on his capital. He does not care to pursue so risky a business at this rate of profit; he determines to contract operations. When he goes to his bank, a branch of one of the gigantic London joint-stock banks, at the end of the quarter, the manager of the branch comes forward as usual ready to continue the bank advances; but the builder says simply, "The building trade is not so good as it was," and declines. The increased cost of bricklaying has affected all other speculative builders in much the same way; the consequence is that "gold" accumulates in the branch banks. The secretaries and managers of the great joint-stock banks do not let their capital idly accumulate; they buy New Zealand 6 per cents, or transfer to Frankfort or New York the capital that, but for the rise in cost of bricklaying, would have gone to the London bricklayers. In this case it is easy to see that the quantity of work to be done is not limited. Should the cost of building diminish but a little, the rate of profit of the builders on their own capital (in many cases not one-tenth of the capital they employ) will run up to 20 or 30 per cent, or even more; and at even a 20 per cent profit the bricklayers would find that a perfect rage for building would set in. Every speculative builder in the trade would strain his credit to the utmost, and take up every £100 from his bank that he could induce the bank manager to let him have. A second illustration. Forty years ago, on our farm in the south of England, two men with flails used to begin threshing wheat in the long barn about 1st November, and used to thresh till 1st April. They got eight shillings a week with us, but in adjoining counties seven shillings (and even six) were winter wages. Now the steam threshing-machine will empty that long barn in two short days' work. It takes half a dozen men to do the work, and they get about fifteen shillings a week, though their labour is much shorter and easier than that of the old flail men. At the same time our farmers now are much poorer men than they were forty years ago: they have less capital, they have made for many years past a low rate of profit, and they are frequently themselves complaining that they cannot afford to pay their labourers well, and inferring that they should get Protection back again in some shape or other. The labourers on their part imagine very generally that their increased wages for less work are due to Mr. Arch and agitation; that the employers of labour will never pay more than is wrested from them (this is in large measure true); and that employers must pay whatever agitators are strong enough to demand (this is wholly erroneous). In this case it is evident on the surface that the labourers who thresh with the steam-thresher are more efficient than the flail-men: their labour is worth the half-a-crown a day to the employer, and therefore the employer, however poor, can afford to pay it as he receives it back with a profit. On the other hand, if the flail-men were raised from the dead, no farmer would now pay them even eight shillings a week for threshing; their labour would not be worth even that. One illustration more. Thirty years ago there were few more wretched trades than the shoemakers of Northampton. Wages were low, the labour was severe, the social condition of the workmen was necessarily low also. The sewing-machine, with some special adaptations to make it sew leather, increased about sixfold the bootmaking power of a workman. It is needless to say that the Northampton shoemakers met the introduction of this machine with the fiercest opposition: they said five-sixths of their number must be thrown out of employment. The struggle was won by the machine (as in other cases); shoemakers' wages have ruled 50 to 100 per cent higher ever since, at the same time that the shoemaking population has largely increased; and the social comforts and character of the workpeople have improved vastly too. This is an example that has always puzzled the workmen themselves; but it requires no explanation after what has been said about the efficiency of labour. The puzzle to the shoemakers is what becomes of the additional boots and shoes made. They do not reflect that, even of a necessary of life, only a certain quantity is used at a certain price. Nothing is more necessary in London, especially in winter, than coal; but, when coal some years ago went up to 40s. a ton in London, it was marvellous how people in all ranks managed to reduce their consumption of coal. Much more in the case of boots, which will bear the cost of export to remote countries, did the demand increase as the price fell. A fall of 10 per cent only in the price of boots would cause every wholesale boot exporter to export on the largest scale. No doubt the invention of a self-acting machine which should turn out 1000 pairs of boots an hour at a nominal cost of workmanship per pair would reduce the shoemakers of Northampton to idleness and starvation. But in practice it has rarely happened that any machine has been introduced in any trade that has thus completely choked the increased demand. It has happened often that the workmen who could only work the old way, and were not able to take up the new machine, have been reduced to starvation. Even then, after this generation has passed away, the new machine-workers have been better off than their predecessors. Employers of labour cannot pay as wages more than the labour is worth: no organisation or rules will make them. But employers may pay a good deal less than the labour is worth, and often have done so. However great their profits, there is, according to J. S. Mill, always a tacit understanding among all employers of labour to pay the minimum the labourers can be induced to accept. It is only by combination that the labourers can get the full value of their efficiency. Here Mr. Arch comes in: I have little doubt that the flail-threshers might, under a well-managed large trade combination, have got nine shillings a week instead of eight shillings forty years ago. But every rise in wages gained by the workmen, unless springing from or in conjunction with an increase in efficiency, will tell against themselves; it must increase the price of the article, whether houses, wheat, or boots; this must diminish the demand for the article, and this must throw some of the workmen out of employ. It is difficult to find an example of price of wages which presents any difficulty of explanation when we apply to it the consideration of efficiency. If bricklayers were to offer to exert themselves to the utmost, and do in eight hours the same amount and quality of work they now do in nine, the speculative builders would doubtless be willing to give the same wages for eight hours' work that they now give for nine. In case the labourers by increase in their efficiency are able to get higher wages, the choice will (in general) lie with them how much of the increase they take in increased money wages, how much they take in shortened hours of labour. We thus see how, in an uncivilised community, owing to the inefficiency of their labour, their whole time and energies are expended on their hunting, or otherwise providing bare subsistence. The greater skill of our civilised labourers, working with machines provided by our science, and profiting by our fixed capital (as our railway tunnels and embankments), is vastly more efficient: it ensures the labourers a certainty and regularity of food which the savage does not enjoy, and provides him a certain margin of leisure beyond what the inefficient savage labourer can count upon; it also provides the whole surplus production out of which the intellectual and leisure classes are supported. It is to be noted that an increase of efficiency in any industry (and very largely in the case of industries producing generally essential utilities) raises real wages in all other industries, and this, whether the particular trade gains (as we have seen it nearly always do) or loses, as is conceivable, though rarely occurring. Thus, if the introduction of a boot-sewing machine lowers the price of boots 50 per cent, this can have no effect in lowering the money wages of farm labourers; and, as a matter of fact, the fall in cost of boots has sensibly improved the position of farm labourers. In the same way the superior efficiency of carriers by railway over the old road carriers has diminished the cost of coal and all articles (the bulky ones most sensibly) in all parts of England. There thus arises the instructive result that handicrafts in which there has been no improvement in the last forty years have obtained a rise of real wages (amounting in some cases to 50 per cent) by the improvements in efficiency in all the trades around them. To sum up: No man in ordinary business will give a price for anything that he intends to sell again unless he expects to profit by selling it again. No capitalist will pay a workman to make a table unless he expects to sell the table for a sum somewhat exceeding the cost of the wood and the workman's labour. It follows directly that the one grand object of the workman, both as an individual, a trade, and a class, should be to improve the efficiency of his labour. He may gain something by combination and higgling for the turn of the market, but the limit to what he can get is the value of his labour to his employer. In order to attain this improved efficiency the most important practical aid is piecework. This has done much even in agriculture: the turnip-hoer by the acre earns more, while he does his work at his own time with more comfort to himself than the old day-labourer. What is more important, the men who by head and hand are superior at turnip-hoeing are able to do the work cheaper than ordinary labourers, and turnip-hoeing thus falls entirely to the most efficient hoers, whose efficiency thus again gets constantly improved. There is no doubt to me that, if the London bricklayers would arrange to work by contract, they would soon obtain more wages without being compelled (as they imagine would be the case) to work more severely or longer hours to gain those wages. If they were more efficient, nothing could prevent the competition of employers soon giving extra wages for extra value of work. But it may, finally, be urged that there is surely such a thing as over-production. If there is an over-production of boots, trade is flat, the wholesale dealers find they are making no profit, they stop their purchases, the workmen are thrown out of employ on a large scale. To this the reply is that there is almost a necessary alternation of up and down in every particular trade, whether the efficiency of the workmen is high or low. If trade is good, the large dealers will extend their purchases, and very commonly rather over-extend their purchases: a reaction follows, and vice versa when trade is bad. But it must be recollected over-production in all trades at once is impossible: capital is now not buried in pots by our great joint-stock banks; if one trade is at standstill the capital is carried to the most remunerative use that the experienced bank secretaries can discover. If agriculture is, as we have lately seen it, in a depressed state for years, inasmuch as wheat is "over-produced" in America till the price in England falls to 36s. per quarter (and less), at which it hardly pays to produce it in England; this of itself implies an enormous spur to all other industries—the real cost of labour has in them fallen (for the labourer will not be able to keep to himself the whole benefit of cheapened food)—the rate of profit in all other industries has risen (pro tanto). If we ever do arrive at a state when all the desires are fully satisfied—when there is over-production in all industries—we shall have general reduction in the hours of labour: "efficiency" will take that form.
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