“The word ‘value,’ when used without adjunct, always means, in political economy, value in exchange” (Mill, III i 3). So that, if two ships cannot exchange their rudders, their rudders are, in politico-economic language, of no value to either.
But “the subject of political economy is wealth.”—(Preliminary remarks, page 1.)
And wealth “consists of all useful and agreeable objects which possess exchangeable value.”—(Preliminary remarks, page 10.)
It appears then, according to Mr. Mill, that usefulness and agreeableness underlie the exchange value, and must be ascertained to exist in the thing, before we can esteem it an object of wealth.
Now, the economical usefulness of a thing depends not merely on its own nature, but on the number of people who can and will use it. A horse is useless, and therefore unsaleable, if no one can ride—a sword if no one can strike, and meat, if no one can eat. Thus every material utility depends on its relative human capacity.
Similarly: The agreeableness of a thing depends not merely on its own likeableness, but on the number of people who can be got to like it. The relative agreeableness, and therefore saleableness, of “a pot of the smallest ale,” and of “Adonis painted by a running brook,” depends virtually on the opinion of Demos, in the shape of Christopher Sly. That is to say, the agreeableness of a thing depends on its relative human disposition.25 Therefore, political economy, being a science of wealth, must be a science respecting human capacities and dispositions. But moral considerations have nothing to do with political economy (III i 2). Therefore, moral considerations have nothing to do with human capacities and dispositions.
I do not wholly like the look of this conclusion from Mr. Mill’s statements:—let us try Mr. Ricardo’s.
“Utility is not the measure of exchangeable value, though it is absolutely essential to it.”—(Chap. 1 sect. i.) Essential to what degree, Mr. Ricardo? There may be greater and less degrees of utility. Meat, for instance, may be so good as to be fit for anyone to eat, or so bad as to be fit for no one to eat. What is the exact degree of goodness which is “essential” to its exchangeable value, but not “the measure” of it? How good must the meat be, in order to possess any exchangeable value; and how bad must it be—(I wish this were a settled question in London markets)—in order to possess none?
There appears to be some hitch, I think, in the working even of Mr. Ricardo’s principles; but let him take his own example. “Suppose that in the early stages of society the bows and arrows of the hunter were of equal value with the implements of the fisherman. Under such circumstances the value of the deer, the produce of the hunter’s day’s labour, would be exactly” (italics mine) “equal to the value of the fish, the product of the fisherman’s day’s labour. The comparative value of the fish and game would be entirely regulated by the quantity of labour realized in each.” (Ricardo, chap. iii “On Value.”)
Indeed! Therefore, if the fisherman catches one sprat, and the huntsman one deer, one sprat will be equal in value to one deer; but if the fisherman catches no sprat, and the huntsman two deer, no sprat will be equal in value to two deer?
Nay; but—Mr. Ricardo’s supporters may say—he means, on an average;—if the average product of a day’s work of fisher and hunter be one fish and one deer, the one fish will always be equal in value to the one deer.
Might I inquire the species of fish. Whale? or whitebait?26
It would be waste of time to pursue these fallacies farther; we will seek for a true definition.
Much store has been set for centuries upon the use of our English classical education. It were to be wished that our well-educated merchants recalled to mind always this much of their Latin schooling—that the nominative of valorem (a word already sufficiently familiar to them) is valor; a word which, therefore, ought to be familiar to them. Valor, from valere, to be well, or strong (ὑγιαίνω);—strong, in life (if a man), or valiant; strong, for life (if a thing), or valuable. To be “valuable,” therefore, is to “avail towards life.” A truly valuable or availing thing is that which leads to life with its whole strength. In proportion as it does not lead to life, or as its strength is broken, it is less valuable; in proportion as it leads away from life, it is unvaluable or malignant.
The value of a thing, therefore, is independent of opinion, and of quantity. Think what you will of it, gain how much you may of it, the value of the thing itself is neither greater nor less. Forever it avails, or avails not; no estimate can raise, no disdain depress, the power which it holds from the Maker of things and of men.
The real science of political economy, which has yet to be distinguished from the bastard science, as medicine from witchcraft, and astronomy from astrology, is that which teaches nations to desire and labour for the things that lead to life; and which teaches them to scorn and destroy the things that lead to destruction. And if, in a state of infancy, they suppose indifferent things, such as excrescences of shellfish, and pieces of blue and red stone, to be valuable, and spend large measure of the labour which ought to be employed for the extension and ennobling of life, in diving or digging for them, and cutting them into various shapes—or if, in the same state of infancy, they imagine precious and beneficent things, such as air, light, and cleanliness, to be valueless—or if, finally, they imagine the conditions of their own existence, by which alone they can
