It is, moreover, probable that Ricardo himself did not begin with an elaborate theory of value from which he deduced the laws of distribution, but after having discovered, or having convinced himself that he had discovered, the laws of distribution he attempted to deduce from them a theory of value. One idea had haunted him his whole life long, namely, that with the progress of time nature demanded an ever-increasing application of human toil. No doubt it was this that suggested to him that labour was the foundation, the cause, and the measure of value. But he never came to a final decision on the question, and his statements concerning it are frequently contradictory. We must also confess that his theory of value is far from being his most characteristic work. In the elucidation of that difficult question, vigorous thinker though he was, he has not been much more fortunate than his predecessors. He himself acknowledged this on more than one occasion, and shortly before his death, with a candour that does him honour, he recognised his failure to explain value.[315]
1. The Law of Rent
Of all Ricardian theories that of rent is the most celebrated, and it is also the one most inseparably connected with Ricardo’s name. So well known is it that Stuart Mill spoke of it as the economic pons asinorum, and it has always been one of the favourite subjects of examiners.
The question of rent—that is, of the return which land yields—had occupied the attention of others besides Ricardo. It was the burning question of the day. The problem of rent dominated English political economy during the first half of the nineteenth century, and a later period has witnessed a revival of it in the land nationalisation policy of Henry George. In France there was but a feeble echo of the controversy, for France even long before the Revolution had been a country of small proprietors. Landlordism was far less common there, and where it existed its characteristics were very different. That threefold hierarchy which consisted of a worker toiling for a daily wage in the employ of a capitalist farmer who draws his profits towered over by a landlord in receipt of rents formed a kind of microcosmic picture of the universal process of distribution, but it was seldom as clearly seen in France as it was in England.
The first two incomes presented no difficulties. But how are we to explain that other income—that revenue which had created English aristocracy and made English history? The Physiocrats had named it the “net product,” and they argued a liberality of nature and a gift of God. Adam Smith, although withholding the title of creator from nature and bestowing it upon labour, nevertheless admits that a notable portion—perhaps as much as a third of the revenue of land—is due to the collaboration of nature.[316]
Malthus had already produced a book on the subject,[317] and Ricardo hails him as the discoverer of the true doctrine of rent. Malthus takes as his starting-point the explanation offered by the Physiocrats and Adam Smith, namely, that rent is the natural outcome of some special feature possessed by the earth and given it by God—that is, the power of enabling more people to live on it than are required to till it. Rent is the result, not of a merely physical law, but also of an economic one, for nature seems to have a unique power of creating a demand for its products, and consequently of maintaining and even of increasing indefinitely both its own revenue and value. The reason for this is that the population always tends to equal and sometimes to surpass the means of subsistence. In other words, the number of people born is seldom less than the maximum number that the earth can feed. This new theory of rent is a simple deduction from Malthus’s law concerning the constant pressure of population upon the means of subsistence.
Malthus emphasised another important feature of rent, and it was this characteristic that especially attracted Ricardo. Seeing that different parts of the earth are of unequal fertility, the capitals employed in cultivation must of necessity yield unequal profits. The difference between the normal rate of profit on mediocre lands and the superior rate yielded by the more fertile land constitutes a special kind of profit which is immediately seized by the owner of the more fertile land. This extra profit afterwards became known as differential rent.
To Malthus, as well as to the Physiocrats, this kind of rent seemed perfectly legitimate and conformed to the best interests of the public. It was only the just recompense for the “strength and talent” exercised by the original proprietors. The same argument applies to those who have since bought the land, for it must have been bought with the “fruits of industry and talent.” Its benefits are permanent and independent of the proprietor’s labour, and in this way the possession of land becomes a much-coveted prize, the otium cum dignitate which is the just reward of meritorious effort.
Ricardo enters upon an entirely new track. He breaks the connection with Smith and the Physiocrats—a connection that Malthus had been most anxious to maintain. All suggestion of co-operation on the part of nature is brushed aside with contempt. Business-man and owner of property as he was, he had no superstitious views concerning nature, whose work he contemplated without much feeling of reverence. As against the celebrated phrase of Adam Smith he quotes that of Buchanan: “The notion of agriculture yielding a produce and a rent in consequence because nature concurs with human industry in the process of cultivation is a mere fancy.”[318] He proceeds to defend the converse of Smith’s view and to show how rent implies the avarice rather than the liberality of nature.
The proof that the earth’s fertility, taken by itself, can never be the cause of rent is easily seen in the case of a new country. In a newly founded colony, for example, land yields no rent, however fertile, if the quantity of land is in excess of the people’s demand. “For no one would pay for the use of land when there was an abundant quantity not yet appropriated, and therefore at the disposal of whosoever might choose to cultivate it.”[319] Rent only appears “when the progress of population calls into cultivation land of an inferior quality or less advantageously situated.” Here we have the very kernel of Ricardo’s theory. Instead of being an indication of nature’s generosity, rent is the result of the grievous necessity of having recourse to relatively poor land under the pressure of population and want.[320] “Rent is a creation of value, not of wealth,” says Ricardo—a profound saying, and one that has illuminated many a mystery attaching to the theory of rent. In that sentence he draws a distinction between wealth born of abundance and satisfaction and value begotten of difficulty and effort, and he declares that rent is of the second category and not of the first.