The Money Trick
`Money is the cause of poverty because it is the device by which those
who are too lazy to work are enabled to rob the workers of the fruits
of their labours.'
`Prove it,' said Crass.
Owen slowly folded up the piece of newspaper he had been reading and
put it into his pocket.
`All right,' he replied. `I'll show you how the Great Money Trick is
worked.'
Owen opened his dinner basket and took from it two slices of bread but
as these were not sufficient, he requested that anyone who had some
bread left would give it to him. They gave him several pieces, which
he placed in a heap on a clean piece of paper, and, having borrowed
the pocket knives they used to cut and eat their dinners with from
Easton, Harlow and Philpot, he addressed them as follows:
`These pieces of bread represent the raw materials which exist
naturally in and on the earth for the use of mankind; they were not
made by any human being, but were created by the Great Spirit for the
benefit and sustenance of all, the same as were the air and the light
of the sun.'
`You're about as fair-speakin' a man as I've met for some time,' said
Harlow, winking at the others.
`Yes, mate,' said Philpot. `Anyone would agree to that much! It's as
clear as mud.'
`Now,' continued Owen, `I am a capitalist; or, rather, I represent the
landlord and capitalist class. That is to say, all these raw
materials belong to me. It does not matter for our present argument
how I obtained possession of them, or whether I have any real right to
them; the only thing that matters now is the admitted fact that all
the raw materials which are necessary for the production of the
necessaries of life are now the property of the Landlord and
Capitalist class. I am that class: all these raw materials belong to
me.'
`Good enough!' agreed Philpot.
`Now you three represent the Working class: you have nothing - and for
my part, although I have all these raw materials, they are of no use
to me - what need is - the things that can be made out of these raw
materials by Work: but as I am too lazy to work myself, I have
invented the Money Trick to make you work FOR me. But first I must
explain that I possess something else beside the raw materials. These
three knives represent - all the machinery of production; the
factories, tools, railways, and so forth, without which the
necessaries of life cannot be produced in abundance. And these three
coins' - taking three halfpennies from his pocket - `represent my
Money Capital.'
`But before we go any further,' said Owen, interrupting himself, `it
is most important that you remember that I am not supposed to be
merely "a" capitalist. I represent the whole Capitalist Class. You
are not supposed to be just three workers - you represent the whole
Working Class.'
`All right, all right,' said Crass, impatiently, `we all understand
that. Git on with it.'
Owen proceeded to cut up one of the slices of bread into a number of
little square blocks.
`These represent the things which are produced by labour, aided by
machinery, from the raw materials. We will suppose that three of
these blocks represent - a week's work. We will suppose that a week's
work is worth - one pound: and we will suppose that each of these
ha'pennies is a sovereign. We'd be able to do the trick better if we
had real sovereigns, but I forgot to bring any with me.'
`I'd lend you some,' said Philpot, regretfully, `but I left me purse
on our grand pianner.'
As by a strange coincidence nobody happened to have any gold with
them, it was decided to make shift with the halfpence.
`Now this is the way the trick works -'
`Before you goes on with it,' interrupted Philpot, apprehensively,
`don't you think we'd better 'ave someone to keep watch at the gate in
case a Slop comes along? We don't want to get runned in, you know.'
`I don' think there's any need for that,' replied Owen, `there's only
one slop who'd interfere with us for playing this game, and that's
Police Constable Socialism.'
`Never mind about Socialism,' said Crass, irritably. `Get along with
the bloody trick.'
Owen now addressed himself to the working classes as represented by
Philpot, Harlow and Easton.
`You say that you are all in need of employment, and as I am the
kind-hearted capitalist class I am going to invest all my money in
various industries, so as to give you Plenty of Work. I shall pay
each of you one pound per week, and a week's work is - you must each
produce three of these square blocks. For doing this work you will
each receive your wages; the money will be your own, to do as you like
with, and the things you produce will of course be mine, to do as I
like with. You will each take one of these machines and as soon as
you have done a week's work, you shall have your money.'
The Working Classes accordingly set to work, and the Capitalist class
sat down and watched them. As soon as they had finished, they passed
the nine little blocks to Owen, who placed them on a piece of paper by
his side and paid the workers their wages.
`These blocks represent the necessaries of life. You can't live
without some of these things, but as they belong to me, you will have
to buy them from me: my price for these blocks is - one pound each.'
As the working classes were in need of the necessaries of life and as
they could not eat, drink or wear the useless money, they were
compelled to agree to the kind Capitalist's terms. They each bought
back and at once consumed one-third of the produce of their labour.
The capitalist class also devoured two of the square blocks, and so
the net result of the week's work was that the kind capitalist had
consumed two pounds worth of the things produced by the labour of the
others, and reckoning the squares at their market value of one pound
each, he had more than doubled his capital, for he still possessed the
three pounds in money and in addition four pounds worth of goods. As
for the working classes, Philpot, Harlow and Easton, having each
consumed the pound's worth of necessaries they had bought with their
wages, they were again in precisely the same condition as when they
started work - they had nothing.
This process was repeated several times: for each week's work the
producers were paid their wages. They kept on working and spending
all their earnings. The kind-hearted capitalist consumed twice as
much as any one of them and his pile of wealth continually increased.
In a little while - reckoning the little squares at their market value
of one pound each - he was worth about one hundred pounds, and the
working classes were still in the same condition as when they began,
and were still tearing into their work as if their lives depended upon
it.
After a while the rest of the crowd began to laugh, and their
merriment increased when the kind-hearted capitalist, just after
having sold a pound's worth of necessaries to each of his workers,
suddenly took their tools - the Machinery of Production - the knives
away from them, and informed them that as owing to Over Production all
his store-houses were glutted with the necessaries of life, he had
decided to close down the works.
`Well, and wot the bloody 'ell are we to do now?' demanded Philpot.
`That's not my business,' replied the kind-hearted capitalist. `I've
paid you your wages, and provided you with Plenty of Work for a long
time past. I have no more work for you to do at present. Come round
again in a few months' time and I'll see what I can do for you.'
`But what about the necessaries of life?' demanded Harlow. `We must
have something to eat.'
`Of course you must,' replied the capitalist, affably; `and I shall be
very pleased to sell you some.'
`But we ain't got no bloody money!'
`Well, you can't expect me to give you my goods for nothing! You
didn't work for me for nothing, you know. I paid you for your work
and you should have saved something: you should have been thrifty like
me. Look how I have got on by being thrifty!'
The unemployed looked blankly at each other, but the rest of the crowd
only laughed; and then the three unemployed began to abuse the
kind-hearted Capitalist, demanding that he should give them some of
the necessaries of life that he had piled up in his warehouses, or to
be allowed to work and produce some more for their own needs; and even
threatened to take some of the things by force if he did not comply
with their demands. But the kind-hearted Capitalist told them not to
be insolent, and spoke to them about honesty, and said if they were
not careful he would have their faces battered in for them by the
police, or if necessary he would call out the military and have them
shot down like dogs, the same as he had done before at Featherstone
and Belfast.
`Of course,' continued the kind-hearted capitalist, `if it were not
for foreign competition I should be able to sell these things that you
have made, and then I should be able to give you Plenty of Work again:
but until I have sold them to somebody or other, or until I have used
them myself, you will have to remain idle.'
`Well, this takes the bloody biskit, don't it?' said Harlow.
`The only thing as I can see for it,' said Philpot mournfully, `is to
'ave a unemployed procession.'