.
| The Man Who
Wanted to Raise Hell |
| [Repinted from Land
& Liberty, special issue 1995] |
In 1939 Prof. Fay,
lecturer in economic history at Cambridge, prepared an appreciation of
Henry George, to be broadcast on BBC Radio on 2nd September 1939. With
the international crisis which culminated in the declaration of war on
the following day, the talk was cancelled. The script was never
broadcast.
GEORGE, our dictionary tells us, is a proper name derived from the
Greek and meaning a labourer on the land; and as surname it has been
borne by two men of world distinction, one the great statesman who now
grows apples in the county of Surrey, and the other the great writer and
social reformer whose birth in America a hundred years ago we
commemorate tonight.
The link between them is direct For although a Royal Commission on the
Housing of the Working Classes (1885) toyed with the idea of a small tax
on vacant land, nothing came of it, and it was left to Mr. Lloyd George
in his People's Budget of 1909 to impose land taxes endued with the
faith that God gave the land to the people.
Another Chancellor of the Exchequer, the socialist Philip Snowden,
himself more radical than the radicals, renewed the attack in the Budget
of 1931, only to fail in effect as his predecessor had done. For his tax
of a penny in the pound on the capital value of land required for its
operation the valuation of the land, and before this was completed the
economic crisis had brought a National Government into power, and the
National Government dropped it. It was a piece of sharp practice in the
eyes of Philip Viscount Snowden, by this time promoted to an irony of
loneliness in the House of Derated Acres and Mounting City Sites.
And who will be in office 40 years from hence, namely in 1979? For that
year to the disciples of Henry George will be the year, seeing that in
1879 their master published his famous Progress and Poverty, a
book of which more than two million copies were printed between 1879 and
1905 -- two million in 26 years, which means that it had become a Bible.
When that centenary comes along, the then Chancellor of the Exchequer,
it may be, will be explaining why the special tax on site values, by
which all the municipalities of 1979, perhaps, will raise a portion of
their rates, cannot with propriety be used for imperial purposes, and
will recall as a curiosity the distant days of this present year, when
Mr. Speaker ruled that the London Rating (Site Values) Bill could not be
introduced except as a Public Bill, because it made so fundamental an
alteration in the law of rating.
WHO, then, was this American? The son of a Philadelphia publisher, he
was drawn as a youth by the spirit of romance to the sea, and to
California around Cape Horn.
For this was the age of the Californian Gold Rush, when all the world
without his wife was heading for the Pacific coast Before the mast, in
his printing office, travelling the country for reporter's copy on
horseback or on bicycle, . as well as in his invariably unsuccessful
mining ventures, he was the same sensitive man: devoted to freedom,
sympathetic to suffering, intolerant of social injustice. He saw miners
sweating and starving, a score of failures for every success: railroad
barons battening on monopoly: building booms, in which land values
soared fantastically overnight (as they did in Florida in the 1920s) to
the enrichment of the unscrupulous few: all this on the sombre
background of a continent prostrated by the civil war of 1861-5.
These manifold impressions crystallised, and the crystal was his book
Progress and Poverty. He was, however, not a man of one book,
for after Progress and Poverty came Social Problems and
Protection or Free Trade, to mention only two of his later
works. Social Problems, published in 1884 is a fascinating
little piece, and reveals his many-sidedness; for unlike Robert Owen (if
I may say so), and unlike some of his own disciples, he did not freeze
himself within the limits of a single thought With him free trade, free
enterprise and free access to land were parts of the larger whole of
freedom, and in this he resembled Adam Smith.
His fame established, he returned to the East, where at first he was
welcomed by the wealthy because they saw in his programme no challenge
to business enterprise, and he all but gained the mayoralty of New York
in 1894. But his strength was in writing and public speaking rather than
in politics. 'I do not' he said in reply to a leading question, 'want
the responsibility and work of the office of the Mayor of New York, but
I do want to raise hell.'
And his lecture tours at home and abroad were more congenial and
fruitful than the political campaigning into which he was again
impressed in 1897, when he was stricken by illness and died. I think of
him as an American Cobbett, deriving passion from the mute appeal of the
countryside, and rather lost in the tumult of the town, even though it
was to townsmen that he most appealed.
WHAT WAS his programme? In his own words, 'What I propose as the simple
yet sovereign remedy is to appropriate rent by taxation;' and the rent
he had in mind was not that part loosely so termed, which is interest on
improvements, but the pure economic rent arising from the scarcity and
situation of land, and augmented in value by the progress of society.
Through emphasis on the efficacy of such a tax by itself he and his
school were dubbed 'single-taxers'. It is, however, bu tjust to remember
that in his day a Federal income tax, i.e. a tax levied by the central
government in Washington, was unconstitutional. The alternative to a
general tax (whether on land or income) was a mass of commodity taxation
of customs and excise, which was offensive to liberty and oppressive on
the poor.
When he was under fire in England, his critics quickly made the point
that a land tax, being necessarily domestic, would only by indirection
tax the great stream of wealth accruing from investments overseas and
furthermore that it was inept to tax the employment-giving industrialist
occupying a large area of land, a steel works for example, more heavily
than the no less wealthy merchant enjoying a relatively tiny space and
employing only a handful of clerks. Very properly, therefore, his
followers of today stress the impact of the tax rather than its
singleness, and rest their case on the capacity of land, and in
particular of urban land, to bear a special tax over and above that
which is imposed on other forms of wealth.
IN THE United States Henry George was something of a prophet without
honour in his own country; and the notice of him in die new American
Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, though penned by a progressive
democrat, closes on a chilly note: 'The practical results are slight
apart from scattered attempts to shift taxation from the value of
improvements to the value of land'.
In Great Britain, as I have said, the attempts to realise a part of the
programme miscarried. But in the Dominions, as well as in parts of
Europe, special land taxes have sometimes met with success.
Overseas, the Provinces of the Canadian West tried them and found them
on the whole abortive. But in New Zealand, with its more persistent
socialism, more success was won: and land taxation has probably become a
permanent element of the New Zealand tax system - of the tax system; for
New Zealand scholars insist that it is a tax, and not as a panacea for
all social ills and economic maladjustments, that land taxation must be
judged.
However, alike in New Zealand, Australia and Canada, land taxation is
no longer the inspiring formula that Henry George would have desired.
The place of panacea is occupied now by social credit, with Major
Douglas for theorist and for practitioner Premier Aberhart of Alberta.
In England Henry George left behind the seeds of a missionary
organisation; and for some time past the United Committee for the
Taxation of Land Values has promoted the cause in and out of Parliament.
Their writings are ardent, though necessarily when they come down to the
details of finance the going is hard. But it is not intellectual
difficult)' which embarrasses their spokesmen when they are on the floor
of the House. They are distracted rather by the chord of social memory
which strikes within them as they speak. They could not have a better
case than the monstrous cost of building a new road way over the Thames,
fourteen million odd, of which eleven million would go to compensate the
owners of the site. Nevertheless, the eloquent mover of the Land Values
(Rating) Bill of 1937 only got to bis central point at the very end of
his speech. For he, like others before him, felt impelled to begin with
the information 'and all that', when man's green hospitals. the commons
of England, were closed against him by King Henry VIII of dubious
memory.
THE YOUNG Philip Snowden, when a Revenue Collector in Aberdeen, was
struck by the furore which Henry George and his book created in Scotland
in the early 1880s.
'No book ever written on the social problem,' he says, 'made so many
converts' (Autobiography 1.49). Among others it gave to Keir
Hardic his first ideas on socialism. And (he intelligentsia of England
took Henry George no less seriously. The last work of Arnold Toynbee, in
whose memory Tonybee Hall in Whitechapel was founded, was two lectures
on Progress and Poverty in 1883. The youthful Fabian Society
advertised him. A.J. Balfour dissected him at an Industrial Remuneration
Conference. But the sharpest opponent of all was Alfred Marshall of
Cambridge, die doyen of English economists.
When Marshall was Principal of University College, Bristol, he
delivered three Public Lectures on Henry George's books. Invited by
Jowett to succeed Toynbee at Balliol in 1883, he was there for one year,
and in the course of it engaged Henry George in a personal debate, in
which the atmosphere was so electrical that ladies fainted. Henry George
junior, in the brilliant life of his father, reports it at length.
Suffice it here to say that during the debate Henry George felt somewhat
indignant; and with some reason, for was it not Marshall's own master,
Adam Smith, who wrote that landlords, like all other men, love to reap
where they never sowed? Indeed, just as Karl Marx was in a sense the
last of the Ricardians, so in a sense was Adam Smith the first of the
land reformers; and we might without infidelity to history point to a
continuous strand of reforming thought from Adam Smith through Spence
and Ogilvie and Paine to the warm evangelism of the once dreaded Henry
George. Tantaene animis caelestibtts irae? (Can such anger dwell in
heavenly minds?)
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