with its own environment; and his logical starting-point
is an analysis of wealth-production as it exists to-day.
He begins by insisting on the fact that labour in the
modern world is divided with such a general and such
an increasing minuteness that each labour produces
one kind of product only, of which he himself can
consume but a small fraction, and often consumes nothing.
His own product, therefore, has for him the character
of wealth only because he is able to exchange it for
commodities of other kinds; and the amount of wealth
represented by it depends upon what the quantity of
other assorted commodities, which he can get in exchange
for it, is. What, then, is the common measure,
in accordance with which, as a fact, one kind of commodity
will exchange for any other, or any others? For
his answer to this question Marx goes to the orthodox
economists of his time—the recognised exponents
of the system against which his own arguments were
directed—and notably, among these, to Ricardo;
and, adopting Ricardo’s conclusions, as though
they were axiomatic, he asserts that the measure of
exchange between one class of commodities and another—such,
for example, as cigars, printed books, and chronometers—is
the amount of manual labour, estimated in terms of
time, which is on an average necessary to the production
of each of them. His meaning in this respect
is illustrated with pictorial vividness by his teaching
with regard to the form in which the measure of exchange
should embody itself. This, he said, ought not
to be gold or silver, but “labour-certificates,”
which would indicate that whoever possessed them had
laboured for so many hours in producing no matter
what, and which would purchase anything else, or any
quantity of anything else, representing an equal expenditure
of labour of any other kind.
Having thus settled, as it seemed to him beyond dispute,
that manual labour, estimated in terms of time, is
the sole source and measure of economic values or
of wealth, Marx goes on to point out that, by the
improvement of industrial methods, labour in the modern
world has been growing more and more productive, so
that each labour-hour results in an increased yield
of commodities. Thus a man who a couple of centuries
ago could have only just kept himself alive by the
products of his entire labour-day, can now keep himself
alive by the products of half or a quarter of it.
The products of the remainder of his labour-day are
what Marx called a “surplus value,” meaning
by this phrase all that output of wealth which is
beyond what is practically necessary to keep the labourer
alive. But what, he asks, becomes of this surplus?
Does it go to the labourers who have produced it?
No, he replies. On the contrary, as fast as it
is produced, it is abstracted from the labourer in
a manner, which he goes on to analyse, by the capitalist.