Would the dodo-bones circulate? Nicholson chose the illustration to throw into the sharpest relief the absence of any value from a non-monetary employment. Nobody has any use for them as dodo-bones. What economic force is there, then, to make them circulate? Nicholson says nothing about an agreement among the traders, assigning a significance[111] to the dodo-bones, so that they might function in the same way that poker chips do—indeed, any such notion would vitiate his illustration, for he proposes to explain an adjustment of prices by natural economic laws. Why then, will any of the traders give up his valuable commodities for the worthless dodo-bones? Will you say that he will take them, not because he wants them himself, but because he knows that others will take them from him? But why would the others want them? Because they in turn can unload them on still others? But this seems a plain case of the vicious circle. It is, in effect, saying that the dodo-bones will circulate because they will circulate. A will take them because B will take them; B will take them because C will take them, C because ... N will take them; N takes them because A will take them.[112] I do not deny that if the traders used the dodo-bones as counters, agreeing that such dodo-bones should represent some other commodity chosen as a standard of values, that the dodo-bones would circulate. But, in that case, they would be, not primary, self-sustaining money, but merely representative, or token money. And just here let me lay down two general propositions[113] respecting the two main functions of money: to serve as a standard, or common measure, of values, the article chosen must, as such, be valuable. The thing measured must be either a fraction or a multiple of the unit of measurement. But this quantitative relation can exist only between homogeneous things. The standard, or measure, of values, then, must be like the commodities whose values it is to measure, at least to the extent of having value.[114] The second proposition is respecting the medium of exchange. The medium of exchange must also have value, or else be a representative of something which has value. There can be no exchange, in the economic sense—I abstract from disguised benevolences, accidents, and frauds—without a quid pro quo, without value balancing value, at least roughly, in the process. Now when it is remembered that the intervention of the medium of exchange, taking the place of barter, really breaks up a single exchange under the barter system into two or more independent exchanges, and that the medium of exchange is actually received in exchange for valuable commodities, it follows clearly that the medium of exchange must either have value itself, or else represent that which has value. These two propositions seem almost too obvious to require the statement, but they contradict the quantity theory, and they are not, on the surface, reconcilable with certain facts in the history of inconvertible paper money. It is necessary, therefore, to state them, and to examine further some of the phenomena which seem to contradict them. If they are true, Nicholson's dodo-bones will perform neither of the primary functions of money. They have no value, per se—they cannot, then, measure values; they are neither valuable nor titles to valuable things—they are not quid pro quo in exchange, and will not circulate.
I shall not pause long to discuss the doctrine that money needs no value itself, because it is really a sort of title to, or claim on, or representative of, goods in general. The notion, first, would not pass a lawyer's scrutiny. There are no such indefinite legal rights. A system of legally fixed prices, with a socialistic organization of society, would be necessary to give it definiteness—and in such a situation there would be no room for a quantity theory of prices! Economic goods, as distinct from money, are not generally "fungible" to the extent that would make them indifferent objects of legal rights. Besides, whether or not the thing is logically thinkable, it is legally false. Legal factors enter into the economic value of money, as will later be shown, but it is economic, and not legal, value, which makes money circulate. Helfferich has taken the trouble to give the notion of money as a mere title to things in general a somewhat more fundamental analysis, and I would refer the reader who is not satisfied by the foregoing on this point to his discussion.[115]
I wish to make very clear precisely how much I mean by the foregoing argument that circular reasoning is involved in saying that A will take the dodo-bones because B will take them. The same question arises for B, and for the others. The real question is as to the cause for any general practice of the sort. Why should A suppose that B will take them? What could bring about such a system of social relations that a general expectation of this sort could arise?
Kemmerer undertakes to give an answer in a hypothetical case by the following ingenious assumption (Money and Credit Instruments, p. 11): the money consists of an article which formerly had a high commodity value, which has lately entirely disappeared, but the money continues to circulate, through the influence of custom, and because of the demand for a medium of exchange.
In this illustration Kemmerer recognizes the historical fact that money has originated from some commodity which had value because of its significance as a commodity. Historically, a great many different commodities have served, and gold and silver finally emerged victors for reasons which need not just now concern us. These historical facts, coupled with the idea that value is, essentially, "something physical,"[116] or coupled with the notion that value arises only from marginal utility, or from labor, have been accepted by the Commodity or Metallist School as sufficient proof that standard money is only possible when made of some valuable commodity. Professor Laughlin seems to think of the whole thing as depending on the value of gold bullion, and to recognize the money-employment as a factor in affecting the value of money only in so far as it draws gold away from the arts, and so raises its value there by lessening the supply.[117] If money originated in a commodity, how is it possible for the commodity value to be withdrawn, and for money still to retain its value?
This brings us to a question I have raised before, namely, whether the genetic, or historical account of a social situation, and the cross-section analysis of the same situation, necessarily agree.[118] Is it possible that when a commodity basis was necessary to start the thing, and when even in the modern world gold bullion, interconvertible with gold coin, remains the ultimate basis of the money-systems of all great commercial peoples, that you could withdraw the commodity support and keep money unchanged in value? Or could you even have any value left at all? Now in answer, I propose to admit the possibility of so doing. The forces which a cross-section analysis reveals are not necessarily identical with those which a theory of origins sets forth. Once the thing is set going, the forces of inertia favor it. A new theory, fixed in the minds of the people, say the quantity theory itself, might give them such confidence in their money that its value might be maintained. A fiat of the government, making the money legal tender, supplemented by the loyalty of the people, might keep up its value. I think there is reason to believe that this is a source of no little importance of value for the German paper money to-day, and, to a less extent, of the notes of the Banque de France. All these possibilities I admit. Value is not physical, but psychological. And the form of value with which we are here concerned, economic value par excellence, is a phenomenon of social, rather than individual psychology. Many and complex are the psychical factors lying behind it. Belief, custom, law, patriotism, particularly a network of legal relationships growing out of contracts expressed in terms of the money in question, the policy of the state as to receiving the money for public dues, the influence of a set of customary or legally prescribed prices, which tie the value of money to a certain extent to the values of goods—factors of this character can add to the value of money, and can, conceivably, even sustain it when the original source of value is gone. Social economic value does not rest on marginal utility. In general, utility is essential, as one of many conditions, before value can exist, even though the intensity of the marginal want served by a good bears no definite relation to its value. But in the case of the value of a money of the sort here considered, marginal utility is in no sense a cause of the value. Rather, the marginal utility[119] of such money to an individual is wholly a reflection of its social value, and changes when that social value changes. It is quite consistent with the general theory of economic value which I have set forth in Social Value, for me to admit possibilities of this kind. The value of money in such a case has become divorced from its original presuppositions. The paper, originally resting on a commodity basis, or the coins originally valued because they could be transformed into non-monetary objects of value, have become objects of value in themselves. Analogous phenomena are common enough in the general field of values, and are less common in the field of economic values proper than one might suppose. Thus, most moral values tend to become independent of their presuppositions. Moral values of modes of conduct have commonly arisen because those modes of conduct were, or were supposed to be, advantageous in furthering other ends. Morality, in its essence, is teleogical. Yet so far have the moral ideals become ends in themselves that it is possible to have great thinkers, like Kant and Fichte, setting them up as eternal and unchangeable categorical imperatives, regardless of consequences. Thus Fichte declares, "I would not tell a lie to save the universe from destruction." Older still is the dictum, "Fiat justitia, ruat coelum." Yet truth and justice, in the history of morals, and, in the view of most moral thinkers to-day, are of value primarily because they tend to preserve the universe from destruction, and would never have become morally valuable had they had the other tendency! Legal values manifest this tendency even more—one needs only to point to our vast body of technical rules of procedure in criminal cases, which persist long after their original function is gone, and after they have become highly pernicious from the standpoint of the ends originally aimed at. In the sphere of the individual psychology the phenomenon is very common. The miser's love for money is a classical example. The housewife who so exalts the cleanliness of her home that the home becomes an unhappy place in which to live, is an often-described type. The man who retires from business that he may enjoy the gains for the sake of which he entered business often finds that the business has become a thing of value in itself, and longs to be back in the harness, while many men, long after economic activity is no longer necessary, continue the struggle for its own sake. Activities arise to realize values. The value of the activity is derived from the value aimed at. But consciousness is economical, and memory is short. The activities become habits. The habits gather about themselves new psychological reactions. The interruption of habitual activities is distasteful. Life in all its phases tends to go on of its own momentum. The activities tend to become objects of value in themselves, whether or not their original raison d'être persist. In both the social and the individual sphere, apart from blind inertia and mechanical habit, active interests tend to perpetuate the old activities, whose raison d'être is gone. The judge who continues to apply the outgrown absurdities of adjective law may do it from timidity or from being too lazy to think out the new problems whose solution must precede readjustment to present social needs, but the criminal lawyer who can free his guilty client by means of these technicalities has an active interest in their perpetuation. The individual who would readjust his conduct in the light of changed interests finds that active opposition is met in the emotional accompaniment of the old habits. The economic society may wish to be free from a money whose original value is gone, but there is a powerful debtor interest which approves of that money, and whose support tends to maintain its value.
All these possibilities I admit. My own theory of value, which finds the roots of economic value ramifying through the total social psychological situation, rather than in utility or labor-pain alone, involves possibilities like these. But—and this is a point I wish especially to stress—we are out of the field of mechanics, and in the field of social psychology, when we undertake to explain the value of money that way. No longer is there any mathematical necessity about the matter. There is no such a priori simplicity as the quantity theory deals with. Factors like these might maintain the value of money for a time, and then wane. These factors might vary in intensity from day to day, with changing political or other events, leading the value of money to change from day to day, quite irrespective of changes in its quantity.[120] In so far as you have a people ignorant of the nature of money and of monetary problems, a people in the bonds of custom, with slightly developed commercial life, whose economic activities run in familiar grooves unreflectively, you will most nearly approximate a situation like that which Professor Kemmerer assumes. But that means that what might be true in India, or to a less degree in Austria—countries to which the quantity theorists are accustomed to refer—need not at all be true in the United States. Here everybody was talking about the theory of money in 1896—not necessarily very intelligently!—and here, moreover, such phrases as "good as gold," and propositions like that which came from Mr. J. P. Morgan in his testimony before the Pujo Committee that "gold is money, and nothing else," would seem to indicate that a very great part of our people might utterly distrust such a money as Professor Kemmerer describes. The banker's tendency to look behind for the security, to test things out, to seek to get to bed-rock in business affairs, holds with a great many people. An overemphasis on this is responsible for the doctrine of Scott[121] and Laughlin[122] that the sole source of the value of inconvertible paper money is the prospect of redemption, and that inconvertible paper money differs from gold in value by an amount which exactly equals the discount at the prevailing rate of interest, with allowance for risk, for the period during which people expect the paper money to remain unredeemed. We have not the banker's psychology to any such extent as that. Apart from the fact that the money function adds to the value of money, under certain circumstances,—a point to be elaborated shortly—other, non-rational factors, contagions of depression and enthusiasm, patriotic support, "gold market" manipulations, etc., entered to break the working of the credit theory of paper money as applied to the American Greenbacks. I may here express the opinion that the credit theory is the fundamental principle in the explanation of the value of the Greenbacks, however. But we have not the banker's psychology to any such extent as the extreme forms of that theory would assume. "Uncle Sam's money is good enough for me," is a phrase I have heard from the Populists,—who, by the way, were pretty good quantity theorists! "The government is behind it." There are plenty of men for whom that assurance would be enough. Indeed, the general notion that in some way, not specified, perhaps not yet known to anybody, the government will do what is necessary to maintain the value of its money is a ground which might well influence even the most sophisticated banker. I think such a general confidence in the English government has clearly been a factor in the price of Sterling exchange since the balance of trade turned so overwhelmingly against England in the present War.[123] Our monetary history, I may add, has been in considerable measure a struggle between these two opposing psychological reactions on that point. The utter breakdown of the fiat theory came in Rhode Island, and in connection with the Continental Currency, in the days before the Constitution was adopted. On the other hand, I do not believe that those who put a banker inside every one of us can prove that their principle has been a complete explanation at any stage of our monetary history. But clearly considerations like these take away all mathematical certainty from the matter.
The foregoing analysis makes clear, I trust, that the notion that the money function alone can make an otherwise valueless money circulate is untenable. There must be value from other sources as well. All that is conceded is that there need not be a physical commodity as the basis of the money. Value is not necessarily connected with a physical commodity.
There is a disposition on the part of many quantity theorists to beg the question at the outset, to assume money as circulating, without realizing how much this assumption involves. The assumption involves the further assumption that there are causes for the circulation of money. But the same causes which make money circulate will also be factors in the determination of the terms on which it circulates, i. e., the prices. To seek then, by a new principle, the quantity theory, to explain these prices without reference to these causes, is a remarkable procedure. There is sometimes a disposition to do the thing quite simply indeed: define money as the circulating medium, and, by definition, you have it circulating! A rather striking case of this, which is either tautology or circular reasoning, appears in Fisher's Purchasing Power of Money (p. 129): "Take the case, for instance, of paper money. So long as it has the distinctive characteristic of money,—general acceptability at its legal value,—and is limited in quantity, its value will ordinarily be equal to that of its legal equivalent in gold." (Italics mine.)
It is not quite easy to construct, even ideally, a social psychology which would perfectly fit the quantity theory. One would have to assume that money circulates purely from habit, without any present reason at all. The assumption must be that the economic life runs in steady grooves, so that quantity of goods exchanged will always be the same, or at least, that it will always be the same proportion of the goods produced—there must be no option of speculative holding out of the market allowed the holder of exchangeable goods. The individuals must have constant habits as to the proportions of the money they receive to be spent and to be held for emergencies. All the factors affecting "velocity" of both money and goods must be constant—Professor Fisher maintains very explicitly that velocities, both of money and of bank-deposits are fixed by habit (loc. cit., p. 152),—and, in any case, the assumption is necessary. A thoroughly mechanical situation must be assumed, where there is the rule of blind habit. Given such a mechanism, you pour in money at one end, and it grinds out prices at the other end, automatically. But, strangely enough, in this social situation where blind habit rules, prices are perfectly fluid! In India, or in other countries where the assumptions of the quantity theorist come most nearly to realization, so far as the general rule of habit is concerned, one finds also many customary prices. In a country completely under the rule of habit, the prices would, as a matter of psychological necessity, be also fixed. What might then be expected to happen in such a country, if an economic experimenter should disturb them in their habitual quantity of money? Which habits would give way, those relating to prices, or those to velocities, or those relating to quantities of goods exchanged?[124] I shall not trouble to solve this problem, as it seems to me not the most useful way to approach the problem of the value of money, but I submit it to the consideration of advocates of the quantity theory. My present purpose is accomplished in pointing out the psychological assumptions which the quantity theory makes: a psychology of blind habit, in a situation where the price-level is free from control by customary prices.