I’m reminded of G.K. Chesterton’s (the fence guy’s) political philosophy: Distributivism. If I wanted to oversimplify, distributivism basically says, “Private property is such a good idea that everyone should have some!” Distributivism sees private property in terms of individual personal property: a farm, perhaps a small business, the local pub. It’s in favor of all that. You should be able to cut down your own tree, or build a shed, or work to benefit your family. There’s a strong element of individual liberty, and the right of ordinary people to go about their lives. Chesterton also called this “peasant proprietorship.”
But when you get to a larger scale, the scale of capital or of the great rentiers, Chesterton is ruthlessly willing to subjugate everything else to the goal of preserving ordinary, dignified human lives. In his time, there was a proposal to control lice by shaving the heads of poorer children. Leaving aside Chesterton’s notion of gender roles, his response to this was emphatic:
Now the whole parable and purpose of these last pages, and indeed of all these pages, is this: to assert that we must instantly begin all over again, and begin at the other end. I begin with a little girl’s hair. That I know is a good thing at any rate. Whatever else is evil, the pride of a good mother in the beauty of her daughter is good. It is one of those adamantine tendernesses which are the touchstones of every age and race. If other things are against it, other things must go down. If landlords and laws and sciences are against it, landlords and laws and sciences must go down. With the red hair of one she-urchin in the gutter I will set fire to all modern civilization. Because a girl should have long hair, she should have clean hair; because she should have clean hair, she should not have an unclean home: because she should not have an unclean home, she should have a free and leisured mother; because she should have a free mother, she should not have an usurious landlord; because there should not be an usurious landlord, there should be a redistribution of property; because there should be a redistribution of property, there shall be a revolution. That little urchin with the gold-red hair, whom I have just watched toddling past my house, she shall not be lopped and lamed and altered; her hair shall not be cut short like a convict’s; no, all the kingdoms of the earth shall be hacked about and mutilated to suit her. She is the human and sacred image; all around her the social fabric shall sway and split and fall; the pillars of society shall be shaken, and the roofs of ages come rushing down, and not one hair of her head shall be harmed.
That’s a creed, right there: “With the red hair of one she-urchin in the gutter I will set fire to all modern civilization.” Chesterton isn’t even quite right about lice control (what you needed in his day was a very fine comb and enough free time to brush your children’s hair daily, not necessarily a clean home as such). But the core idea stands.
Chesterton went on to explain he would prefer to be a gradualist, not a revolutionary, if gradualism would get the job done:
III. ON PEASANT PROPRIETORSHIP
I have not dealt with any details touching distributed ownership, or its possibility in England, for the reason stated in the text. This book deals with what is wrong, wrong in our root of argument and effort. This wrong is, I say, that we will go forward because we dare not go back. Thus the Socialist says that property is already concentrated into Trusts and Stores: the only hope is to concentrate it further in the State. I say the only hope is to unconcentrate it; that is, to repent and return; the only step forward is the step backward.
But in connection with this distribution I have laid myself open to another potential mistake. In speaking of a sweeping redistribution, I speak of decision in the aim, not necessarily of abruptness in the means. It is not at all too late to restore an approximately rational state of English possessions without any mere confiscation. A policy of buying out landlordism, steadily adopted in England as it has already been adopted in Ireland (notably in Mr. Wyndham’s wise and fruitful Act), would in a very short time release the lower end of the see-saw and make the whole plank swing more level. The objection to this course is not at all that it would not do, only that it will not be done. If we leave things as they are, there will almost certainly be a crash of confiscation. If we hesitate, we shall soon have to hurry. But if we start doing it quickly we have still time to do it slowly.
This point, however, is not essential to my book. All I have to urge between these two boards is that I dislike the big Whiteley shop, and that I dislike Socialism because it will (according to Socialists) be so like that shop. It is its fulfilment, not its reversal. I do not object to Socialism because it will revolutionize our commerce, but because it will leave it so horribly the same.
Chesterton’s objection to the socialism of his day was that it was essentially “the State as Walmart,” a giant centralization of economic effort and control. And he was suspicious of this.
But if you squint, Distributivism isn’t really a fully fledged economic philosophy at all. It doesn’t have a lot to say about the wealth created by mass production, or about trade, or about a hundred other things. What Distributivism (“peasant proprietorship”) really is, is a set of constraints. Do ordinary people own personal property? Do they have leisure time, and enough wealth for basic luxuries? Do they have enough time to parent their children well? Is society structured around the needs or ordinary people? Then you’re probably doing OK. But if everyone is stressed, and struggling, and has no time for their children, and cannot afford a decent place to live, well, something has gone wrong. And the underlying problem should be fixed gradually, if possible. But it should be fixed. And if a revolution is the only way to get there, well, so be it, in Chesterton’s eyes.
I am something like a Democratic Socialist, a gradualist who believes in a “mixed economy,” with all the space in the world for small proprietors and entrepreneurs and personal property. Capital is necessary, too! But capital is ultimately subject to the need of ordinary people to live decent lives. And if capital becomes destructive, and if the lives of ordinary people become burdensome, well, then we should change the rules around capital. I would vastly prefer to do this democratically and gradually and without great disruption, taking the smallest steps that will fix the problem. Chesterton, after all, also had his famous fence. But if I am forced to choose between the well-being of a “she-urchin in the gutter,” and all the self-important infrastructure of the modern economy? The well-being of ordinary families is ultimately non-negotiable.
(In the modern era, I am also very much in favor of building, because the lack of decent houses has become burdensome to ordinary people. And we need more electricity and better transportation, and so we also need to build at a greater scale, via whatever mechanisms are practical. But I am ultimately in favor of these things because they would improve the lives of ordinary people. Capital is a tool, and even an important one. But if the tool puts itself in opposition to ordinary people having decent lives, then I know how I will choose.)
Similar here. Perhaps policy debates would be more sane if people distinguished between what they want to achieve, and what is the their current best idea about how to achieve it. Instead we get many people who believe that the only way to get X is Y, and therefore if someone opposed Y, they obviously must oppose X.
Interesting!
I’m reminded of G.K. Chesterton’s (the fence guy’s) political philosophy: Distributivism. If I wanted to oversimplify, distributivism basically says, “Private property is such a good idea that everyone should have some!” Distributivism sees private property in terms of individual personal property: a farm, perhaps a small business, the local pub. It’s in favor of all that. You should be able to cut down your own tree, or build a shed, or work to benefit your family. There’s a strong element of individual liberty, and the right of ordinary people to go about their lives. Chesterton also called this “peasant proprietorship.”
But when you get to a larger scale, the scale of capital or of the great rentiers, Chesterton is ruthlessly willing to subjugate everything else to the goal of preserving ordinary, dignified human lives. In his time, there was a proposal to control lice by shaving the heads of poorer children. Leaving aside Chesterton’s notion of gender roles, his response to this was emphatic:
That’s a creed, right there: “With the red hair of one she-urchin in the gutter I will set fire to all modern civilization.” Chesterton isn’t even quite right about lice control (what you needed in his day was a very fine comb and enough free time to brush your children’s hair daily, not necessarily a clean home as such). But the core idea stands.
Chesterton went on to explain he would prefer to be a gradualist, not a revolutionary, if gradualism would get the job done:
Chesterton’s objection to the socialism of his day was that it was essentially “the State as Walmart,” a giant centralization of economic effort and control. And he was suspicious of this.
But if you squint, Distributivism isn’t really a fully fledged economic philosophy at all. It doesn’t have a lot to say about the wealth created by mass production, or about trade, or about a hundred other things. What Distributivism (“peasant proprietorship”) really is, is a set of constraints. Do ordinary people own personal property? Do they have leisure time, and enough wealth for basic luxuries? Do they have enough time to parent their children well? Is society structured around the needs or ordinary people? Then you’re probably doing OK. But if everyone is stressed, and struggling, and has no time for their children, and cannot afford a decent place to live, well, something has gone wrong. And the underlying problem should be fixed gradually, if possible. But it should be fixed. And if a revolution is the only way to get there, well, so be it, in Chesterton’s eyes.
I am something like a Democratic Socialist, a gradualist who believes in a “mixed economy,” with all the space in the world for small proprietors and entrepreneurs and personal property. Capital is necessary, too! But capital is ultimately subject to the need of ordinary people to live decent lives. And if capital becomes destructive, and if the lives of ordinary people become burdensome, well, then we should change the rules around capital. I would vastly prefer to do this democratically and gradually and without great disruption, taking the smallest steps that will fix the problem. Chesterton, after all, also had his famous fence. But if I am forced to choose between the well-being of a “she-urchin in the gutter,” and all the self-important infrastructure of the modern economy? The well-being of ordinary families is ultimately non-negotiable.
(In the modern era, I am also very much in favor of building, because the lack of decent houses has become burdensome to ordinary people. And we need more electricity and better transportation, and so we also need to build at a greater scale, via whatever mechanisms are practical. But I am ultimately in favor of these things because they would improve the lives of ordinary people. Capital is a tool, and even an important one. But if the tool puts itself in opposition to ordinary people having decent lives, then I know how I will choose.)
Similar here. Perhaps policy debates would be more sane if people distinguished between what they want to achieve, and what is the their current best idea about how to achieve it. Instead we get many people who believe that the only way to get X is Y, and therefore if someone opposed Y, they obviously must oppose X.