Production, as now carried on, is primarily conducted in the expectation of sale, and of profitable sale. Trade does not go of itself, automatically. Rather, it is a highly difficult matter, calling for the highest order of ability, and the labor of innumerable men. In general, I think it safe to say that in ordinary times, the manufacturer loses vastly more sleep over the question of how he shall market his output, than he does over the question of how he shall produce it. A clerk in the Westinghouse Air Brake Company, engaged in the accounting department, spoke recently to the writer of the "productive end" of the business. On inquiry, it developed that he meant the selling department! He stated that the manufacturing department also, in the language of the employees, in that corporation, would also be termed "productive," but that the selling department was the productive department.
If one reflects a little as to the proportion of "costs" that go into selling, as compared with technical "production," I think my point will be clearer. Advertising has developed so enormously that it needs little discussion. It has been stated that the "Sapolio" people once tried, after their reputation seemed thoroughly established, to stop advertising, with such disastrous results that very extraordinary efforts were required to reëstablish the brand. Number 2 wheat is not advertised, in the great magazines, but innumerable brands of flour get newspaper and magazine advertising,—some of them in such a periodical as the Saturday Evening Post, and even those which are locally consumed are commonly advertised in the local press. Nor is it only finished products, of the sort that must be sold to the fickle public, that involve these heavy selling costs. The writer has in mind a corporation producing a high-grade type of glazed retort, in the production of which it has virtually a monopoly, since the clay with which it is made does not coexist with the skill to make it in any other place. The particular product is an indispensable part of many important technical processes. Substitutes made of other clays, and by other companies, are known by the trade to be unsatisfactory. The buyers are all highly trained business men. Here, if anywhere, selling costs should be slight. But the chief selling agent of the corporation has found it necessary, in order to keep the business going, to incur huge expenses for entertaining his customers, finds it necessary to incur great travelling expenses, to use only the most expensive hotels, and, incidentally, to drink a great deal more than his personal inclinations would call for, in keeping the business for his house. I waive discussion of the extraordinary fees which a trust promotor makes, in effecting a consolidation of big business units,—a process of exchange. I am speaking now of the ordinary costs involved in ordinary trade. The army of travelling salesmen, the body of stenographers, who write letters, with various "follow-ups," in the effort to get more business, the growing complexities of such letter writing, in which all suspicion of "circularizing" must be allayed, one-cent stamps being absolutely taboo!—these things are the commonplaces of business. They are in the primers in the "commercial colleges" and "schools of commerce." Only the orthodox economist, with his doctrine of the impossibility of general overproduction, is ignorant of them!
This feature of modern business has been much elaborated in a recent book which has not received the attention it merits—though its strength is rather in criticism than in constructive doctrine. I refer to Dibblee, The Laws of Supply and Demand.[286] Dibblee makes an interesting contrast between commercial and manufacturing cities, maintaining that the former necessarily outgrow the latter—a contention which London, New York, Chicago and other places strikingly illustrate. He presents a truly remarkable fact about London:[287] a recent report of the Commission on London Traffic states that there were in London 638 factories registered as coming under the Factory Acts, with an average horse-power of 54. The total power employed within the London area under the Factory Acts, chiefly used in newspaper printing, was 34,750 horse-power—just one-half of what is required for the steamship, Mauretania! This is the greatest city in the world. What do its millions do for a living?[288] The town of Oldham,[289] he asserts, with 100,000 inhabitants, has spindle capacity enough to supply more than the regular needs of the whole of Europe in the common counts of yarn. To market the output of Lancashire, "the merchants and warehousemen of Manchester and Liverpool, not to mention the marketing organization contained in other Lancashire towns, have a greater capital employed than that required in all the manufacturing industries of the cotton trade." Accurate estimates of the proportion of "selling costs" to costs of technical production are doubtless impossible, for the general field of trade, and precision is unnecessary for my purposes. Dibblee's conclusion, after contrasting retail and wholesale prices, and analyzing the expenses incurred in selling prior to the wholesale stage, is that the cost of marketing is at least equal to "real cost of production," occasionally only slightly below it, and often far above it (62).[290] If one considers how large the item of "good will" often bulks in the value of "going concerns"[291]—good will being in large degree often just a capitalization of prior costs of this nature—Dibblee's estimate need not be exaggerated. Trade connections, trade-marks that have reputation, etc., often represent enormous output in thought, work, and expense. Selling costs may, like other costs, be divided into "prime" and "overhead" costs. Some of the latter lead to long-time consequences, pay for themselves only in the long run. These may be "capitalized" in "good will."[292] Of course, not all good will is got at a cost. Much of it is adventitious.
In the light of the doctrine that trade is independent of money and credit, one wonders why it should be thought necessary to extend branches of American banks to the South American markets which we are now reaching out toward. And why have Americans, from the beginning, been constantly increasing commercial banks?[293] It is easy to sneer at the efforts of the successive frontiers in our history to provide themselves with banks of issue as based on a delusion, the delusion that bank-notes are "capital," and to say that their real need was, not more bank-credit, but more real capital. They needed more tools and live-stock, doubtless, but is that the whole story? And were their banks of no assistance in getting the additional capital of various sorts? And was it a matter of no consequence that they had an abundant medium of exchange? It seems almost childish to put such questions, but the quantity theory has as its logical corollary that to multiply banks is quite useless and wasteful, since the only result is to raise prices. If increasing bank-credit cannot increase trade or production, this corollary is inevitable. Indeed, the case may be more strongly stated. Quite apart from the wasted labor of bank-clerks and the waste of banking capital, the effect of increasing bank-development, on quantity theory reasoning, is harmful. If increasing bank-credit is to raise prices without increasing trade, then, on quantity theory reasoning, it must depress business. The reason is that rising prices in a given region make that region a bad place to buy in, and so curtail its exports. This is, indeed, the quantity theory explanation of international trade, to which attention is later to be given. The country which is expanding its banking facilities most rapidly will suffer most in competition in the world markets. This is why the United States have so little foreign trade! It also explains the rapid strides that China and Central Africa have recently made in capturing the world's markets. I submit that there is no flaw in this argument, if the premise of the independence of volume of trade and volume of bank-credit be granted. It follows from the quantity theory. That it is no caricature of Fisher's argument will appear, I think, from the following quotation,[294] which very nearly states what I have just been saying, though it does not draw the conclusion that banking is a bad thing: "The invention of banking has made deposit currency possible, and its adoption has undoubtedly led to a great increase in deposits and consequent rise in prices. Even in the last decade the extension in the United States of deposit banking has been an exceedingly powerful influence in that direction. In Europe deposit banking is in its infancy."[295] Happy Europe, troubled only by war! It is greatly to be hoped, in the interests of American agriculture, that the efforts to increase agricultural credit facilities will fail!
We are driven to one of the most fundamental contrasts in economic theory, which appears under various guises and in different forms: statics vs. dynamics; transition vs. equilibrium, theory of prosperity vs. theory of goods; normal tendency vs. "friction."[296] Perhaps Professor Fisher, and the quantity theorist in general, would dismiss many of these considerations as not applicable to the general principle, which is a "normal" or "static" or "long run" law, not subject to considerations of this sort. It is scarcely open to Fisher to defend himself this way, because of his exceedingly uncompromising statement regarding even "transitional" relations between volume of trade and money and credit. I shall not reply to anyone who offers such an objection by a general tirade against "static economics." I believe thoroughly in the method of economic abstraction, and in reaching general principles by ignoring, provisionally, in thought the "friction" and "disturbing tendencies" which often make the first approximations look somewhat unreal. But I raise this question: to what feature of our economic order do we chiefly owe it that we can make such abstractions? By virtue of what does friction disappear? What is it that makes our abstract picture of economic life, as a fluid equilibrium, with its nice marginal adjustments, its timeless logical relations, correspond as closely as it does to reality? The answer is: MONEY and CREDIT.[297]
It is the business, the function, of money and credit, as instruments of exchange, to bring about the fluid market, to overcome friction, to effect rapid readjustments, to give verisimilitude to the static theory, to make the assumptions of the static theory come true. Where exchange is easy and friction slight, there will not be two prices for the same good in the same market. Speculators, seeking profits of fractions of a point, will prevent that. By multiplying exchanges, they will level off values and prices. Because money and credit have done their work so thoroughly in the "great market," it is possible for men to talk about static theory, and to work out economic laws in abstraction from friction, transitions, and the like.
In the static state, all speculation is banished. There are no price-fluctuations to be smoothed out, no new prospects to be "discounted," no uncertainties to be guarded against by "hedging." Seasonal goods will, of course, have to be carried over from one season to the next, but this will involve merely warehousing and the use of capital—"time speculation," involving many sales, does not come in. One sale to the capitalist who carries the seasonal goods, with a sale by him to the man who means to use them, will suffice. It has been shown before that the great bulk of trade is speculation. But speculation is banished from the static state. Speculation is a function of dynamic change, waxing and waning with the degree of uncertainty that exists, the new conditions to which readjustments have to be made, the "transitions" that have to be effected. In other words, the laws governing the volume of trade are dynamic laws, laws of "transition periods," and so the whole notion which underlies the quantity theory, of "normal periods," "static" relations, etc., is here irrelevant. Volume of trade, as distinguished from volume of production, is controlled by the number and extent of the "transitions" that have to be made. The chief work of money and credit is done in, and because of, "transition periods." Assume a normal equilibrium accomplished, and you have little trading left to do. It will still be necessary, if you have the division of labor, and private enterprise, for goods to pass through as many different hands as there are different independent enterprisers in the stages of production, and on, through merchants, to the consumer. It will still be necessary to pay wages, rents, dividends and interest. But there will be no selling of lands, of houses, of factories, of railroads, or of securities representing these. By hypothesis these are already in the hands best qualified to hold them. The "static equilibrium" presents "mobility without motion, fluidity without flow."[298] The static picture is a picture of completed adjustment, where no one has an incentive to change his work, or his investments, because he has already done the best that he can for himself. It is, therefore, a picture of a situation where there is little incentive for those exchanges which make up the great bulk of the volume of trade in real life.
Hence the curious phenomenon that very much of static theory has been developed in abstraction from money and credit. Mill's theory of international values, for example, abstracts from money. "Since all trade is in reality barter, money being a mere instrument for exchanging things against one another, we will, for simplicity, begin by supposing the international trade to be in form, what it is in reality, an actual trucking of one commodity against another. So far as we have hitherto proceeded, we have found the laws of interchange to be essentially the same, whether money is used or not; money never governing, but always obeying, those general laws."[299] Other writers have similarly held that money is a mere cloak, covering up the reality of the economic process. Schumpeter, for example, holds that money is, in the static analysis, merely a "Schleier," and that "man nichts Wesentliches übersicht, wenn man davon abstrahiert."[300] On the static assumptions, of the fluid market, with friction, etc., banished, money is, indeed, anomalous and inexplicable. It is a cloak, a complication, a vexatious "epi-phenomenon." There is nothing for it to do, and there can be, consequently, no "functional theory" developed for it. Static theory may be ungracious in ignoring its own foundation. But static theory is grotesque when it seeks to support its own foundation! Static theory is possible only on the assumption that the work of money and credit has been done. What, then, shall we say of static theory which seeks to explain the work of money and credit? Yet precisely this is what is undertaken by the quantity theory, with its "normal" or "static" laws of money and credit. A functional theory of money and credit must be a dynamic theory. To talk about the laws of money, "after the transition is completed" is to talk about the work money will do after it has finished working. For a functional theory of money and credit, we must study the obstacles that exist to prevent the fluid market. We must study friction, transitions, dynamic phenomena.
To this problem we shall come in Part III. For the present, I am content to have disproved the quantity theory contention that the volume of trade is independent of the quantity of money and credit.