Michael Fry writes in The Scotsman
(“Scotland’s national newspaper”, 18 April 2013 HERE
“Money and morality an issue for us all”
“ADAM Smith would not have been a fan of a
government making its citizens’ moral judgments for them, writes Michael Fry.
In the time of Adam Smith, just like today,
Scotland had a problem with its fishing industry. There was not much money for
investment in that period, and the fleet was out of date – in particular, it
was no match for the European boats, usually from Holland, which made a habit
of coming into Scottish waters to catch the fish from under our lads’ noses.
Sound familiar?
Then, as now, the British government
considered that if Scotland had a grievance, the best thing was to throw money
at it. So the Treasury provided a subsidy (a bounty in contemporary language)
for building bigger and better Scottish boats to match the Dutch ones. Smith
was living in Kirkcaldy, so he knew all about these things from the fishermen
of Fife, and he wrote: “It has, I am afraid, been too common for vessels to fit
out for the sole purpose of catching not the fish but the bounty.”
I thought of this when I read a speech given
by Alex Salmond {Scotland’s First Minister in the Scottish Parliament] during
his visit to the US for Tartan Day last week. He was addressing an audience at
Princeton University, so the thoughts were suitably learned. They drew a
distinction between the Smith of The Wealth of Nations, with its advocacy of
capitalism (or something very like it), and the Smith of his earlier book, The
Theory of Moral Sentiments, which recommends altruism and benevolence – or, as
the First Minister horribly put it, “empathy”.
Salmond will always be a politician more
than anything else and, before closing his remarks, he drew some conclusions
from all this theory for the burning issues of today. One subject he turned to
was climate change and his government’s policies to deal with it.
The most controversial part of that
programme is wind farms. Even as I read Salmond’s speech, the Highland Council
was nodding through a proposal for a wind farm with 83 turbines to be built
above Fort Augustus, and so ruin another stretch of rugged scenery.
But hang on a minute, is it not possible to
discern a certain similarity between the fishing boats of the 18th century and
the wind farms of the 21st? In both cases, government decides they are a Good
Thing, not only in Scotland but “worldwide”. So it subsidises them.
The interesting thing is where the subsidy
goes. It goes not to the consumers of fish, nor to the consumers of energy. It
goes to the producers, to the builders of fishing boats or of wind farms – both
groups that then make large profits at public expense. It is in the end a
transfer of money from the powerless us to the powerful them, with government
the arbiter of this redistribution.
For all its reputation as a handbook of
capitalism, The Wealth of Nations is full of such examples of what today we
have come to call rip-offs. “People of the same trade seldom meet together,”
Smith writes, “even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a
conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices.” …
... Smith is a psychologist as much as an
economist, and for me the uncanniest part of his genius is to tell us, in every
case, what is actually going on. He was a cautious fellow, but his very caution
allowed him to read the reality of motives. And once he had read them, he was
always on the side of the small man likely to suffer from the presumption of
the rich and powerful. When he called for liberty, as he constantly did, it was
to secure the rights of the small man against the rich and powerful. …
… How did Smith propose to deal with the
abuse of liberty? To answer the question we must turn from The Wealth of
Nations to The Theory of Moral Sentiments, and there we can learn that morality
is not secured by the multiplication of laws, nor by the interventions of
government, which are both inevitably corruptible. It is secured not at a
public level but at a private level, in each person through the cultivation of
his or her own moral sensibilities.
Comment
[Disclosure: until my retirement in 2005, I was a member of the SNP and
I still am a donor (of small not large sums post retirement!) and I regularly vote for its
candidates. I can therefore address political problems in conformity with my
self-denying ordinance on Lost Legacy of not discussing politics in any country
except the one I vote in. In this respect,
I shall vote ‘Yes’ in Scotland’s Independence Referendum in August 2014.
I have been an academic associate of Michael Fry for 40 years. I do not know his politics, but I share
with him membership of the Tuesday Club in Edinburgh, a slightly
right-of-centre dinner club with members close to the social-democratic centre left
to the more conservative centre right, and those, like me, who straddle both trends
as a moderate Libertarians.]
Fry writes:
“For all its reputation as a handbook of
capitalism, The Wealth of Nations is full of such examples of what today we
have come to call rip-offs.”
How right he is. Wealth of Nations is as wildly misread (usually from
selective collections of quotations from it) and it remains as widely unread. Add to this unhappy situation the
awesome fact that Smith’s “Theory of Moral Sentiments’ (1759) is even more
widely unread than Wealth of Nations and we have a recipe for quite
astonishing degrees of ignorance about Adam Smith’s legacy.
Take the quotation about “People of the same
trade seldom meet together even for merriment and diversion, but the
conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to
raise prices.”
This often quoted passage is an apt description of
the baser habits of businessmen in commercial markets even today.
In Smith’s 18th-century Scotland,
he alluded to the behaviours of the Town Guilds, which shared, under
legislation, legal rights to engage in powerful monopolistic practices whereby
under the Statute of Apprentices (from Elizabethan times in the 16th
century) master tradesmen were restricted to two apprentices enduring 7-years
of training and the further restriction that to practise their trade as
fully-fledged tradesmen they had to be approved by the local Trade Guilds or
move somewhere else. These laws were
a license for the local Guilds to exercise a perpetual monopoly, or, in modern terms,
a “closed shop”. Monopolies raise
prices and restrict competition, which were common before Margaret Thatcher’s
governments abolished them in trades unions in the 1980s.
I liked the analogy Michael Fry develops
between the herring boat “bounty” and today’s wind-farm “subsidy”. I remain a
sceptic of 1990s “global warming”, recently changed to “climate change”, and
soon, I suspect in view of the extraordinary cold winter here in Scotland, to become
“global cooling”. Nevertheless,
Fry’s analogy deserves consideration.
I commend Fry for spotting the important
point Smith made on Liberty: “When [Smith] called for liberty, as he constantly
did, it was to secure the rights of the small man against the rich and powerful.”
This is absolutely right! Those who read into Smith a passion for
laissez-faire (leave alone) misunderstand him.
Firstly, Smith never used the French words, rightly in my view as a cry on behalf of merchants, not their
consumers. M. Le Gendre, “a plain
spoken” merchant, in 1690 answered dirigiste French Minister, M. Colbert, when asked what he
wanted, replied ‘Laissez-nous faire”.
At the time, the French administration tightly controlled by hosts of
regulations everything that merchants could do in practice. They wanted freedom to run their
business affairs entirely themselves.
Their customers were not asked what they thought.
Secondly, English mill and mine-owners
supported ‘laissez-faire” for themselves, not their employees or ocmpetitors, when they
supported campaigns for the Repeal of the Corn Laws (to reduce high food prices
and thereby industrial wages) and the early Factory Acts that restricted hours
of work and the introduction of modest safety measures, especially for women
and children.
From these misleading associations,
classical economists promoted “laissez-faire” in their textbooks and sank its
roots into their political economy, including spreading the general and false view that Adam
Smith advocated laissez-faire.
Even today, in neoclassical economics, the identification of Adam Smith
with laissez-faire is commonplace
I recommend that you follow the link to read
Michael Fry’s full article.