






















|
Who Was Henry George?
Agnes George de Mille
[Reprinted from the Preface to the Centenary (1979)
Edition of Henry George's book Progress and Poverty]
A hundred years ago a young unknown printer in San Francisco wrote a
book he called Progress and Poverty. He wrote after his daily
working hours, in the only leisure open to him for writing. He had no
real training in political economy. Indeed he had stopped schooling in
the seventh grade in his native Philadelphia, and shipped before the
mast as a cabin boy, making a complete voyage around the world. Three
years later, he was halfway through a second voyage as able seaman
when he left the ship in San Francisco and went to work as a
journeyman printer. After that he took whatever honest job came to
hand. All he knew of economics were the basic rules of Adam Smith,
David Ricardo, and other economists, and the new philosophies of
Herbert Spencer and John Stuart Mill, much of which he gleaned from
reading in public libraries and from his own painstakingly amassed
library. Marx was yet to be translated into English.
George was endowed for his job. He was curious and he was alertly
attentive to all that went on around him. He had that rarest of all
attributes in the scholar and historian that gift without which all
education is useless. He had mother wit. He read what he needed to
read, and he understood what he read. And he was fortunate; he lived
and worked in a rapidly developing society. George had the unique
opportunity of studying the formation of a civilization -- the change
of an encampment into a thriving metropolis. He saw a city of tents
and mud change into a fine town of paved streets and decent housing,
with tramways and buses. And as he saw the beginning of wealth, he
noted the first appearance of pauperism. He saw degradation forming as
he saw the advent of leisure and affluence, and he felt compelled to
discover why they arose concurrently.
The result of his inquiry, Progress and Poverty, is
written simply, but so beautifully that it has been compared to the
very greatest works of the English language. Indeed, there are pages
that cannot be bettered for eloquence, for sparkling imagery, and
for sound -- that lovely poetic sound of the English language
beautifully spoken. He always had this superb gift. His sea-log as
fourteen compares with the style of Joseph Conrad.
Because he was totally unknown, no one would print his book. And so
he and his friends, also printers, set the type themselves and ran
off an author's edition which eventually found its way into the
hands of a New York publisher, D. Appleton & Co. An English
edition soon followed which aroused enormous interest. Alfred Russel
Wallace, the English scientist and writer, pronounced it "the
most remarkable and important book of the present century." It
was not long before George was known internationally.
During his lifetime, he became the third most famous man in the
United States, only surpassed in public acclaim by Thomas Edison and
Mark Twain. George was translated into almost every language that
knew print, and some of the greatest, most influential thinkers of
his time paid tribute. Leo Tolstoy's appreciation stressed the logic
of George's exposition: "The chief weapon against the teaching
of Henry George was that which is always used against irrefutable
and self-evident truths. This method, which is still being applied
in relation to George, was that of hushing up .... People do not
argue with the teaching of George, they simply do not know it."
John Dewey fervently stressed the originality of George's work,
stating that, "Henry George is one of a small number of
definitely original social philosophers that the world has produced,"
and "It would require less than the fingers of the two hands to
enumerate those who, from Plato down, rank with Henry George among
the world's social philosophers." And Bernard Shaw, in a letter
to my mother, Anna George, years later wrote, "Your father
found me a literary dilettante and militant rationalist in religion,
and a barren rascal at that. By turning my mind to economics he made
a man of me...."
Inevitably he was reviled as well as idolized. The men who believed
in what he advocated called themselves disciples, and they were in
fact nothing less: working to the death, proclaiming, advocating,
haranguing, and proselytizing the idea. But it was not implemented
by blood, as was communism, and so was not forced on people's
attention. Shortly after George's death, it dropped out of the
political field. Once a badge of honor, the title, "Single
Taxer," came into general disuse. Except in Australia and New
Zealand, Taiwan and Hong Kong and scattered cities around the world,
his plan of social action has been neglected while those of Marx,
Keynes, Galbraith and Friedman have won great attention, and Marx's
has been given partial implementation, for a time, at least, in
large areas of the globe.
But nothing that has been tried satisfies. We, the people, are
locked in a death grapple and nothing our leaders offer, or are
willing to offer, mitigates our troubles. George said, "The
people must think because the people alone can act."
We have reached the deplorable circumstance where in large measure
a very powerful few are in possession of the earth's resources, the
land and its riches and all the franchises and other privileges that
yield a return. These positions are maintained virtually without
taxation; they are immune to the demands made on others. The very
poor, who have nothing, are the object of compulsory charity. And
the rest -- the workers, the middle-class, the backbone of the
country -- are made to support the lot by their labor. They are made
to pay for the men in posession who are, in effect, their rulers,
and for the paupers who are denied the opportunity and dignity of
earning their own living. forcing one group to pay for all amounts
to tyranny.
We are taxed at every point of our lives, on everything we earn, on
everything we save, on much that we inherit, on much that we buy at
every stage of the manufacture and on the final purchase. The taxes
are punishing, crippling, demoralizing. Also they are, to a great
extent, unnecessary.
But our system, in which state and federal taxes are interlocked,
is deeply entrenched and hard to correct. Moreover, it survives
because it is based on bewilderment; it is maintained in a manner so
bizarre and intricate that it is impossible for the ordinary citizen
to know what he owes his government except with highly paid help. We
support a large section of our government (the Internal Revenue
Service) to prove that we are breaking our own laws. And we support
a large profession (tax lawyers) to protect us from our own
employees. College courses are given to explain the tax forms which
would otherwise be quite unintelligible.
All this is galling and destructive, but it is still, in a measure,
superficial. The great sinister fact, the one that we must live
with, is that we are yielding up sovereignty. The nation is no
longer comprised of the thirteen original states, nor of the
thirty-seven younger sister states, but of the real powers: the
cartels, the corporations. Owning the bulk of our productive
resources, they are the issue of that concentration of ownership
that George saw evolving, and warned against.
These multinationals are not American any more. Transcending
nations, they serve not their country's interests, but their own.
They manipulate our tax policies to help themselves. They determine
our statecraft. They are autonomous. They do not need to coin money
or raise armies. They use ours.
And in opposition rise up the great labor unions. In the meantime,
the bureaucracy, both federal and local, supported by the deadly
opposing factions, legislate themselves mounting power never
originally intended for our government and exert a ubiquitous
influence which can be, and often is, corrupt.
I do not wish to be misunderstood as falling into the trap of the
socialists and communists who condemn all privately owned business,
all factories, all machinery and organizations for producing wealth.
There is nothing wrong with private corporations owning the means of
producing wealth. Georgists believe in private enterprise, and in
its virtues and incentives to produce at maximum efficiency. It is
the insidious linking together of special privilege, the unjust
outright private ownership of natural or public resources,
monopolies, franchises, that produce unfair domination and
autocracy.
The means of producing wealth differ at the root: some is thieved
from the people and some is honestly earned. George differentiated;
Marx did not. The consequences of our failure to discern lie at the
heart of our trouble.
This clown civilization is ours. We chose this of our own free
will, in our own free democracy, with all the means to legislate
intelligently readily at hand. We chose this because it suited a few
people to have us do so. They counted on our mental indolence and we
freely and obediently conformed. We chose not to think.
Henry George was a lucid voice, direct and bold, that pointed out
basic truths, that cut through the confusion which developed like
rot. Each age has known such diseases and each age has gone down for
lack of understanding. It is not valid to say that our times are
more complex than ages past and therefore the solution must be more
complex. The problems are, on the whole, the same. The fact that we
now have electricity and computers does not in any way controvert
the fact that we can succumb to the injustices that toppled Rome.
To avert such a calamity, to eliminate involuntary poverty and
unemployment, and to enable each individual to attain his maximum
potential, George wrote his extraordinary treatise a hundred years
ago. His ideas stand: he who makes should have; he who saves should
enjoy; what the community produces belongs to the community for
communal uses; and God's earth, all of it, is the right of the
people who inhabit the earth. In the words of Thomas Jefferson, "The
earth belongs in usufruct to the living."
This is simple and this is unanswerable. The ramifications may not
be simple but they do not alter the fundamental logic.
There never has been a time in our history when we have needed so
sorely to hear good sense, to learn to define terms exactly, to draw
reasonable conclusions. As George said, "The truth that I have
tried to make clear will not find easy acceptance. If that could be,
it would have been accepted long ago. If that could be, it would
never have been obscured."
We are on the brink. It is possible to have another Dark Ages. But
in George there is a voice of hope.
|