As far as I know, Professor Lachmann never used
the word delicate to describe markets, at least in his published work. It may in
fact seem that the theme I have chosen to deal with today is perversely inappropriate for
commemorating a man who was a great advocate of free markets. By delicate I mean easily
damaged, prone to damage and also subtle and refined as are most of the
manifestations of civilization. Free market advocates may often contend almost the
opposite. The fact that black markets frequently develop where prices are regulated or
transactions are otherwise circumscribed or that sanctions, as we have come to
know them in our day, often do not work if there are potential buyers and sellers who may
mutually benefit from trade, is surely evidence that markets are extremely robust. But
even here Professor Lachmann would probably have felt that the conclusion needed
qualification, namely, that certain conditions are presupposed. He was always careful to
distinguish between the heuristic devices an analyst uses, such as a particular concept of
what constitutes a market, and what the analyst perceives as the actual historically
unique situation to be analysed. In two contributions to ORDO, sixteen years apart,
he came close to saying that markets are vulnerable to and may even be vitiated by
apparently fairly unrelated developments elsewhere in society.
In the last few months of his life he was particularly preoccupied with the question of
how social institutions may be handled within economics. It was the time of the great
changes in Eastern Europe and he often spoke about what he considered to be a general
under-estimation of the difficulties of recreating market institutions there. He thought
that this would be a problem particularly in Russia (where of course the biggest crunch
was to come only in the following year) because there market institutions had been absent
longer and had in any case been less widespread and well established than in the other
countries. If he had lived longer and been in good health, he might well have written
something on the matter. I do not therefore consider my theme inappropriate to the
occasion, but of course, I do not claim that Professor Lachmann would have agreed with
what I am going to say.
I shall also take my cue from Lachmann in another respect, which I shall have to
explain. Many years ago I gave a short talk to an open audience - I have forgotten the
occasion and the subject but not the sequel. When next I saw Lachmann, who had been
present at the talk, he wagged a finger at me and said (these are not his exact words):
"You tried to say something difficult; you tried to say something new that the
audience was unfamiliar with. You must never do that in a public talk because no one will
know what you are talking about. At most one should take familiar material and present it
in a new perspective."
I shall try to heed this good advice on this occasion.
II
I shall have to do some considerable preparing of the ground before I can get to my
point about the delicate nature of markets. I propose to use a device usually associated
with Max Weber. It is called an ideal type, where the adjective ideal, it
will be important to remember later on, refers to idea and not to perfection. I
must admit that I have always had difficulties with ideal types, in so far as that I have
never been quite sure what they are for and consequently how one should use them. But I
shall try to use them here because they were a very important element in Lachmanns
conception of how to do economics.
There seem to have been innumerable occasions - it became almost a joke - when Lachmann
would say something involving an ideal type and I would say: "But I dont know
what to make of this ideal type". Invariably he would then say: "Think of it as
though it were a cartoon. If a politician has a rather large nose, he will be depicted in
a cartoon as an enormous nose with a little body attached to it". The one thing one
may glean from the bewildering intricacies of typology is that an ideal type involves the
accentuation of some feature or point of view. As Lachmann understood ideal types, their
prominent features seem to be the following: (a) what is accentuated may be taken from
observation, but more commonly, it is "primarily a figment of our imagination",
it consists of "contrivances of our minds". Presumably, the contrivances involve
idealization, such as that a point has position but no size. (b) There may be as many
ideal types of an entity as the entity has features or there are points of view on it. (c)
An ideal type is something very different from a model as currently understood in
economics. (d) Following on from this, ideal types allow a way of doing economics that is
rather different from the current longstanding orthodoxy.
In The Legacy of Max Weber, Lachmann had said:
"It is readily seen how different is Webers ideal type from the model, a
methodological device currently in fashion in many of the social sciences. Both are
mental constructs, both are gained by abstraction. But the virtue of models
rests in their being testable. They must serve the purpose of predicting
concrete events. In choosing between different models, we must choose the one, which
enables us to make predictions, which come nearest to events actually observed. With ideal
types this is not so."
But then, wherein does the virtue of ideal types lie? Lachmann thought very
poorly of the modern economists aspiration to predict and his idea of the
economists role reflects his Austrian School heritage, particularly that of Menger.
The economist had the rather more humble task of providing the concepts, mainly in the
form of ideal types that others use.
"The simplest way to describe the relationship between the analytical social
sciences (praxeology) and the various kinds of history is in terms of the respective parts
they play with regard to the production and use of ideal-typical conceptual schemes.
Briefly, the former produce and the latter use them. They are used, as it were, as a foil
against which to hold real events, so as to bring out particular properties of
the latter by comparison."
In this passage, he mentions only historians as the users of the economists
output. But he had in mind also politicians, bankers, industrialists and others who have
to make their way through the maze of life. To him the concept-producing function seemed
quite a fulfilling occupation. It is doubtful whether many modern economists would relish
having their status reduced from respectable scientists, or at any rate, scientists, to
under-labourers or perhaps Shakespearian court jesters who help big and powerful men of
action see the implications of what they are doing.
However, it would be a mistake to belittle the task of creating ideal types. The
following remark and quotation by Anthony Giddens may put the matter into perspective:
In setting forth the formal characteristics of ideal-type concepts, Weber does not
consider that he is establishing a new sort of conceptual method, but that he is making
explicit what is already done in practice. However, since most researchers are not fully
aware of the sort of concepts they are using, their formulations often tend to be
ambiguous and imprecise."
He then quotes Max Weber:
"The language which the historian talks contains hundreds of words which are
ambiguous constructs created to meet the unconsciously conceived need for adequate
expression, and whose meaning is definitely felt, but not clearly thought out."
III
Let us consider some ideal-typical constructions of markets or market economies, even
if their creators did not intend them to be ideal types. One may consider orthodox general
equilibrium theory as an ideal type rather than as an attenuated description or a
hypothesis, which stands or falls by whether it yields reasonable predictions. What is
being accentuated here and taken to its logical conclusion is co-ordination or the optimum
allocation of resources. It is quite an achievement when considered as a way of showing
what efficiency must mean when that notion is applied not merely to the relation
between the inputs and outputs of a single firm but to an economy as a whole with its
myriad consumers and producers. When held up as a foil or a contrast against, say, what we
now know of the planned economies before 1989, it reveals, by comparison, huge
misallocations of resources. We could not make such a judgement, or even speak in such
terms, had not a Walras come along to show us as a contrivance of his mind what an absence
of misallocation would have to look like.
In other contexts, however, rather too much can be made of the allocative feature of
markets and its accentuation to the exclusion of almost all else in neoclassical economics
is rather questionable. Adam Smith made quite modest claims for markets in this regard -
each individual in his "local situation" would be able to judge much better how
to use his capital than a distant administrator can do for him. Keynes put his finger on
the problem in a much-quoted passage:
"I accuse the classical economic theory of being itself one of these pretty,
polite techniques which tries to deal with the present by abstracting from the fact that
we know very little about the future."
What will the price of gold be in ten years time? The answer to this question would be
very useful to some people in this country who are responsible for allocating large chunks
of resources. But unfortunately, in Keyness simple but famous words: "We simply
do not know." All that equilibrium theory as ideal type can indicate to us is that
the ultimate in efficiency is beyond our reach. In terms of Herbert Simons ideal
types, we need to consider procedural rationality because substantive
rationality is unattainable.
There are of course many other conceptual schemes that may serve as ideal types of
markets. One that Hayek made much use of accentuates the information-dissemination feature
of markets. A system of markets harnesses innumerable bits of detailed information about
each individuals immediate surroundings - knowledge which no single mind could
encompass - by passing on to others in the form of prices whatever is economically
relevant in all these local situations (to use Adam Smiths expression).
This ideal type served Hayek well in his arguments against centralized economic
decision-making and his frequent assertions to the effect that any sensible social order
allows individuals to use their knowledge for their own purposes are ones that Adam Smith
might have been proud of. However, Lachmann and his friend George Shackle (both of whom
had at one time been graduate students of Hayek) came to the view that too much can be
made of this as well, and for similar reasons. It is future prices and future conditions
that are relevant for economic decisions and, for forming expectations of these; present
prices are merely one and not necessarily the most important input.
Lachmann himself of course put forward a large number of ideal types for getting an
intellectual grip on markets. His last book, The Market as an Economic Process was
specifically written for this purpose. From a neoclassical point of view, I suppose one
could say that they accentuated the human element in markets. Lachmann himself said that
they accentuated the subjectivism of interpretation and that they were intended to
put the human element back into economics.
One could probably distil many ideal types of markets from the
contradictions Marx saw in the capitalist mode of production. One that has a
prominent part in the Götterdämmerung of capitalism may be of particular interest in the
present state of affairs. The picture is something like the following, where I shall
venture to update the language: The chief executive of a corporation, in order to keep his
shareholders happy and make his lucrative job secure, is forced by circumstances to raise
the productivity of his workers. He does this by giving some of them more capital to work
with and retrenching the rest. This gives him a competitive edge for some time, but it is
in the nature of competition that other chief executives in the industry are forced to
follow suit and that the prices of the industrys products fall relatively to other
prices. So, the chief executive is brought back to square one and the cycle continues over
and over again while all the time productivity increases immensely and the number of the
unemployed ever rises. Some people may find this ideal type useful for making sense, in
our era of globalization, of the worldwide frenzy of mergers, acquisitions and cost
cutting, but others may prefer sociological ideal types of power play and empire building.
No list of ideal market types can omit Schumpeters perennial gale of creative
destruction. It accentuates the dynamic, innovative as well as monopolistic features
of a market economy. Monopolistic practices make it hard for any would-be entrepreneur
merely to copy and reproduce and so he is forced to innovate thereby creating new
products, new technology, new methods and so on while destroying the old in the process.
Schumpeters scheme appears to bear out the thesis that markets are robust - even
though it is introduced in a book, in which Schumpeter argued that the whole system in
which creative destruction is at home will inevitably destroy itself. But the apparent
robustness presupposes a condition, which is not accentuated, namely, that the socially
acceptable forms of restraint of trade must be heavily circumscribed. To take an extreme
case: if an intrepid entrepreneur should launch a creative-destructive attempt on a
monopoly owned by the Mafia in Sicily or New York, the perennial gale, one should think,
would soon be turned into a deadly calm.
The ideal market types I have discussed do not bring out what I regard as the delicate
nature of markets. For that we have to turn to a conception that, to my mind, is so
obviously behind that early and influential vision of a market economy to be found in the Wealth
of Nations.
IV
I shall begin not with Smith but with a quote from Bastiat, the nineteenth century
French popularizer of free markets. It is from one of a series of essays which also
contains his famous petition of the candle makers in which the legislature is requested to
pass a law requiring all windows to be boarded up to afford the candle makers protection
against the unfair competition of the sun.
"There are only two ways of obtaining the means essential to the preservation, the
adornment, and the improvement of life: production and plunder.
"Some people say: Plunder is a ... transient evil, condemned by moral
philosophy, punished by law, and unworthy of the attention of political economy.
"Yet however well disposed or optimistic one may be, one is compelled to recognize
that plunder is practised in this world on too vast a scale, that it is too much a
part of all great human events, for any social science - political economy least of all -
to be able to ignore it.
"I go further. What keeps the social order from improving ... is the constant
endeavour of its members to live and to prosper at one anothers expense."
[Original italics]
Political economy in fact did not ignore it and in Marxs monumental theory of
history, various techniques for doing it became the basis on which history was divided
into stages. But little is made of living at one anothers expense in modern orthodox
economic theory. Monopoly and trade union activity may sometimes be presented in this
light and, since the advent of the Public Choice School, the terms free rider and
rent seeking have drifted into more general use. By and large, however, as Edward Nell
suggested, the picture is one of an orderly shopping centre. The omission, I think, is no
accident. However different equilibrium theory may be from the contents of the Wealth
of Nations, it is still a part of the legacy of what in one place Adam Smith admitted
was a utopian vision of a market economy. That vision, I want to suggest, was created by
imagining a state of affairs in which living at the expense of others and getting others
to do the dirty work for you were deliberately excluded - the most basic ideal type of a
market economy is quite simply the social order where that kind of thing cannot or does
not take place.
Of course, it has always been accepted by all but the most ardent anarchists that
governments have the duty of protecting citizens against violence and fraud. But as this
has come to be seen by many of the friends of free markets, such protection is merely a
precondition that has to be met before a mystical invisible hand can kick into place. I do
not think that Adam Smith had any such notion and he would certainly have been surprised
to hear that he had a doctrine of the invisible hand, as it has often been called. The
words were after all merely a throw-away expression he used once in each of three of his
works. On another occasion, I tried to show in some detail that the context in which the
words were used in the Wealth of Nations is really a very simple and purely logical
one. It would take far too long to repeat the argument here. Briefly, it appears from the
words used in the paragraph in which the invisible hand expression occurs, and from what
Smith had said in the five preceding paragraphs, that he was merely saying that the
national product is the sum of all the individual products, so that where all are exerting
themselves to make their individual products as large as they can, all are exerting
themselves to make the total available product as large as they can, which he took to be
in the interests of the whole society. This is then easily reworded, by way of a
rhetorical flourish. Each individual is "led by an invisible hand to promote an end
which was no part of his intention". The logical point would be quite trivial were it
not for the recurrent theme of the book expressing the vision of market order I indicated
above. Where half the people of a country were continually exerting themselves to make
their rent seeking or other predatory moves successful, it would not be true that all are
exerting themselves to make the available product as large as they can.
Why the invisible-hand expression caught the fancy of so many generations, it is hard
to say. There were so many other ways in which he expressed his vision. There was, for
instance, a particular turn of phrase, which, unlike the invisible hand, recurs in many
places. What is essential, what, as he said in one place, "is alone sufficient to
make any country flourish" is that the ordinary person should have the assurance that
he may "enjoy the fruits of his own labour". With this in mind, let me
rephrase what I think Adam Smiths vision of market order amounted to: If the laws,
conventions and other institutions of a country made living at other peoples expense
so odious and hazardous that honest work would seem the lesser evil, then every person
would be forced, as a last resort, to produce something himself and exchange it for what
he wants. That, I think, is all there is to it. It may not seem like much, but of all the
ideal market types we have, it seems to me to be the one most consonant with the spirit of
classical liberalism and with the Just Price literature stretching back to
antiquity and its notion of commutative justice or justice in exchange.
The vision contains more than the customary assertion about a governments duty to
prevent violence and fraud. Smiths targets were the "wretched spirit of
monopoly" and the policies of a mercantilist state, neither of which one would
ordinarily consider to fall within the ambit of either violence or fraud. Living at the
expense of other people covers a wide spectrum. At one end, there may well be violent
plunder like car hijacking. But at the other end there are infinitely more subtle ways,
such as when the great mendicants of our age, I mean academics, invoke the aura of science
and of intellectual pursuits to get the funding for travelling the world chatting to
interesting people - a most agreeable pastime that, I am sure, the people who actually
produce the goods and services that make it possible wish they could afford to indulge in.
All forms of plunder, whether violent or ever so gentle and covert, have it in common that
they are of the nature of a zero-sum games - what one party gains, the other loses.
Moreover, they tend to lead to an overall negative-sum game, i.e. to
impoverishment. The sight of someone lazily enjoying the fruits of other peoples
labour is likely to make a hard-working producer feel he is a fool and switch sides. As
the ranks of the predators swell and those of the producers shrink, there will be less and
less to plunder until predator and prey alike are left grovelling in the dirt (though the
more enterprising among them may contrive to smuggle themselves into countries where there
is yet something to plunder). In some actual cases one could think of, things did not go
so far. Some kind of security services cum protection rackets came into being, out of
which aristocracies were eventually born.
One must remember that the vision of market order I have been describing is in the
nature of an ideal type, a scheme of interpretation, as Lachmann would have said. Its
weakness is that in a setting of co-operative production it is almost impossible to say
what any one individuals productive contribution is. How much does an individual
academic contribute towards what is available for consumption? It may be that he is
actually short-changed when proceeding on his sojourns (to return to the provocative
remark I made earlier), that he is taking less out of the system than he is putting in.
There can be no way of telling. Instead, the scheme of interpretation is used to impute,
to guess at, motives. Was plunder the motive? When Adam Smith dealt with his pet aversion,
the apprenticeship laws of his day, and when modern, Public Choice economists write about
the lobbying industry in Washington, the imputation of motives is really not a difficult
matter.
V
However, you may remember that I wanted to use this ideal type to make my point at long
last about the delicate nature of markets. I shall proceed as follows: There is obviously
an element of Thomas Hobbess war of all against all in what I have said. So,
I shall put the matter in a very cosmic and purely imaginary historical setting, as was
fashionable in Hobbess time. In a state of nature, a war of all against all rages
until eventually various forms of government establish themselves more or less
spontaneously. These governments maintain peace and order within the various communities,
if not among them. But the communities are small and, because of the well-known problem of
the division of labour being limited by the extent of the market, they are not very
productive. Gradually, therefore, people begin to trade, communities amalgamate and a more
open society is created. These changes, however, open up new opportunities for resuming
the war of all against all, conducted now in a devious and concealed manner and mainly
through economic relations. Much later still, various mores, some of which are later
called classical liberalism, evolve to restrain this new war of all against all as well -
and this was a great advance of civilization.
- With this setting in mind, one can state in the most general way why markets are rather
delicate flowers of civilization. The reasons, as far as I can see, fall into two
categories:
- People find themselves in a prisoners-dilemma type of situation. On the one hand,
it is in everyones interest that there should not be a covert war of all against all
and to have the benefits of free competition. On the other hand, it is not in any one
individuals interest to forgo whatever opportunities there may be to prosper at the
expense of others. The tension inherent in this situation, I think, will always harm the
market economy.
- People find themselves with at least two sets of moral rules, or rules of conduct as
Hayek liked to call them. One is applicable within the family and a circle of friends and
associates. The other applies to everyone else in the open society and includes the rules
of conduct governing market or economic relations. (One does not have economic relations
with family members and close friends.) This duality is a source of confusion and much
bitterness and, I think, will always undermine market order.
I shall discuss these in turn, starting with the second.
VI
Most English speakers probably understand the expression Business is Business
and know more or less how to use it. But what does it actually mean? Perhaps, that in
certain capacities one suspends certain rules of conduct under certain circumstances when
dealing with people one does not know very well. But if so, how little does one have to
know the person and which rules are suspended in which of ones capacities? If a
complete stranger is in danger of losing his life, would one haggle with him over a price
for saving him, because business is business, or would the suspension of rules itself be
suspended? The point I am making is that rules of conduct are extremely complex, involving
a huge classificatory system and a vast number of criteria for making the classifications.
Moreover, rules of conduct are cases of knowing how rather than of knowing that,
to use Gilbert Ryles terminology. Just as people know how to follow the rules of an
intricate grammar when they speak without necessarily being able to state that the rules
are such and such - often without even being aware that they are following rules - so also
following the rules of conduct of a market economy is an expertise about which we really
know very little (in the sense of an articulated knowledge). For this reason and because
they are so complex, they cannot be looked up in a manual or downloaded from the internet.
They may be acquired only by imitation and long experience. In so far as they are
essential for making an industrial market economy work, and in so far as it is only that
kind of economy that can keep alive the vast numbers who now inhabit our planet, they must
be regarded as a precious cultural asset. Was it not because such an asset still existed
in Europe immediately after World War II that the Marshall plan was a success whereas much
of the aid going to other parts of the world since then has had indifferent to poor
results. The difficulties of creating physical assets of an established technology are
small, it seems, compared to the difficulties of spreading the culture to make effective
use of the physical assets.
While a business-is-business morality and the rules of conduct in an open society may
seem like an asset from one point of view, there certainly are other points of view from
which they seem to be either reprehensible or simply very odd. An aspect of political life
may serve as an illustration. The candidates in an election go about their constituency
disparaging the others record in public life, warning of the dire consequences of
his being elected and in every way making his opponent seem disreputable. Then, when one
of them is elected, the other congratulates him with a warm handshake and promises to
support him in his onerous duties. Such behaviour must seem extremely odd to one not used
to it. No wonder then that in countries where elections are a new thing, the losing
candidate, in order to save face, must at the very least claim that the election was
rigged (which of course it may have been) or take to the hills to organize an
insurrection. The one rule of conduct maintains the peace, the other does not.
Similarly, a taxi owner resents a newcomer who is taking some of his business and
therefore he wants to get rid of him. It is socially unacceptable, and in fact a crime,
that he should pick up an AK 47 to achieve his end, but perfectly acceptable, even
admirable, to achieve the same end by lowering his prices or offering a better service.
The one rule of conduct is the way of plunder, the other is not. Somewhere in his
voluminous writings, Max Weber recorded when attitudes to this kind of thing changed in
Europe. At one time, apparently, a cloth maker or a dyer, for example, who found a cheaper
method of production, was perfectly entitled to enjoy the benefits of his higher profits.
But it would have been regarded as quite despicable if he used his advantage to drive
other cloth makers or dyers out of business. The advent of the business-is-business
morality changed all that. But that does not mean that competition does not create
hardship and that it does not run counter to values, which in our private lives are held
up as high ideals.
Bernard Mandeville, who wrote in the early 1700s, became notorious for his
tongue-in-cheek rendition of this clash of values. In the Preface to his main and
much-read work, Mandeville wrote that his satire was meant to...
"shew the Vileness of the Ingredients that all together compose the wholesome
Mixture of a well orderd Society; in order to extol the wonderful Power of Political
Wisdom, by the help of which so beautiful a Machine is raisd from the most
contemptible Branches ...[and to] shew the Impossibility of enjoying all the most elegant
Comforts of Life that are to be met with in an industrious, wealthy and powerful Nation,
and at the same time be blessd with all the Virtue and Innocence that can be
wishd for in a Golden Age..."
Hayek listed Mandeville among the writers from whom he traced his thought and he also
was preoccupied with the question of moral values and the market economy. On one of his
visits to this country, he gave a talk on the atavism of moral values (I have forgotten
the exact title). Like everyone else who was there that day, I went home and looked up
this word atavism in a dictionary. It means reversion to an earlier type. Hayeks
contention was that many of our most prominent values evolved in face-to-face tribal kind
of societies where everyone knew everyone elses circumstances so that genuine
hardship would be recognized and no one could surreptitiously live at the expense of the
others, but that these values were inadequate in the anonymity of the open society.
Professor Lachmann told me at the time that Hayek had once confided in him that he (Hayek)
felt frustrated by the way left-leaning opponents of his views could always find
tear-jerker stories to back up their contentions and that it was not as though he had no
compassion or felt no pity - it was just that what was done in response to such stories
usually made matters worse. Late in life, Hayek even suggested that the judgement of
morals was a matter for dispassionate science. But I do not think that markets can be
shielded in this way from what is a genuine problem. Schumpeter remarked that the strength
of utopian socialism was that it appealed to the "irrational longings of the hungry
soul - not belly".
VII
I turn finally to the tensions inherent in what I called a prisoners-dilemma type
of situation. When I wrote the bit I said earlier about Adam Smiths vision of a
market economy, I could almost hear, in the back of my mind, Chris Torr saying: But
didnt Smith assume a co-operative economy, and is that really the sort of economy we
live in, at least nowadays. Dont we have an entrepreneur economy? As I
understand the matter, a co-operative economy is one in which everyone may take economic
initiatives, whereas in an entrepreneur economy the important initiatives that lead to
employment are taken only by entrepreneurs, who make up a small portion of the population.
Now, I have great admiration for the enterprise shown, against all the odds, by all sorts
of people in the informal and small-business sectors. But one has to admit that the
difficulties of starting a sizeable business nowadays are so immense that for a majority
the decision whether they are to be producers is not really in their hands. And so they
sit around waiting for the entrepreneurs to do something, or perhaps they roam about as
small-time hunter-gatherers of the market economy. It seems that the technical facts which
in many industries give an advantage to large production units are not compatible with the
classical liberal vision of a market economy, according to which everyone contributes to
the overall product.
Perhaps it was also difficult to start a business in Adam Smiths day, though for
different reasons. What, however, has changed since then is that democracies have become
established in many parts of the world and that the franchise has become universal. In
terms of our scheme, this means that those who for technological reasons have become
incapacitated or at least impaired as producers now do have another option. They may turn
into political predators and try to vote themselves a better life. Whereas the classical
liberal prescription was that institutions should make living at the expense of others so
difficult that people are induced to work, the present position in some countries is more
or less the opposite. Production on an individual initiative is so difficult that people
are induced to use the political institutions to live at the expense of others through
political action. All this, I suppose, is just a round-about way of saying that the market
economy and the welfare state co-exist uneasily, which is well known. But it illustrates
my point that markets are delicate and prone to damage by a tension between production and
plunder.
Now, one has to remember that the vision of a pure market economy is in the nature of
an ideal type and, as I have already pointed out, this is merely an idea and not an ideal
of perfection. The monist bias of western thought makes us long not only for one principle
that can explain everything but also for a single principle by which we may organize our
lives. But can there be such a principle? The great and difficult art of life is surely to
find a good balance. Nothing in excess, as it was put by the ancient Greeks of the
classical period. There is therefore nothing wrong in itself with the co-existence of
incompatible social systems. Certainly, in the countries of Western Europe, where the
welfare state seems to be most advanced, life appears to have been very pleasant over the
last thirty to forty years, especially for those who had jobs. However, just as there was
a time when claims were made that libertarian market principles were being applied to
excess, so now is a time to consider whether welfare-state principles are being applied to
excess. I suppose that is being done in terms of labour market flexibility and so on. In
fact, it is probably the driving force behind New Labour in Britain and the similar,
though apparently more shaky, movement in Germany.
But I want to make the point with a little story out of my recent experience. This last
July, my wife and I spent a night in a pretty-looking country hotel some distance east of
Innsbruck in Austria. After booking in, we made our way to the bar for a drink and the
same man who had officiated at the reception desk now appeared as the barman. When I
inquired about dinner, he said: Fine, give me your order. So,
youre also the waiter I said and he replied: Oh yes, and what is more,
Im also the chief cook. Then, in his capacity as manager of the hotel, he
began to rail against those politicians in Vienna. He claimed, and perhaps he
was exaggerating, that the social taxes were now 120 per cent of the payroll. (In other
words, if you pay someone R 10 000 a month, you have to pay the government R 12 000.) In
an industry which by its nature has to compete to some extent internationally, that is
indeed a burden. He told me that the hotel used to have a staff complement of about twenty
five, but that it was now down to eight, including members of his own family. As I found
out later, the place was built in the year 1515 specifically as a hotel (or Herberge
as it would have been called then) and has now been owned by the same family for three
hundred years. So, here is this very venerable little business which has gone on and on
for more than 480 years, while all around it wars and social upheavals periodically raged.
But it is now being brought to its knees by the welfare state. If the facts of the case
are correct, then this surely is excess. Markets are not robust enough to withstand
an onslaught of this magnitude from a co-existing system.
VIII
Having said all that - to use the currently fashionable longer version of the word But
- I want to make a qualification. I think that markets are delicate but nevertheless
resilient. The best evidence of this is the remarkable revival of free-market philosophies
over the past twenty years. I can remember a time in the early 1970s when making a profit
was represented quite widely as almost an anti-social activity, like depriving starving
children of a meal. Chairmens Reports used to ramble on about all sorts of matters
and add at the end, almost apologetically, And, oh yes, we increased our
profits. All that is left of that now is the social-responsibility idea
which markets can certainly live with.
Another sign is nearer to home. I think many people were rather surprised over the past
five years, and perhaps not quite as many, pleasantly so, by the rather good appreciation
of a market economy shown by the very bourgeois government of (one-time) Comrade President
Mandela. The deadly labour legislation was obviously an exception. But then politics has
always been the art of the possible. Some while ago the present Finance Minister, when
still in his previous portfolio, was reported to have said, in the context of tariff
reductions: "If were going to have markets, then lets really have
markets". The sentence has stuck in my mind because it seems to me to express the
right spirit.
I do not know whether I have persuaded anyone of the delicate but resilient nature of
markets, but at this point I intend to stop.