Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell (read novel full TXT) 📖
- Author: Robert Tressell
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wantonly wasted. They also make fortunes by selling some of it in
foreign countries; but they consume a great part of it themselves,
because the amount of labour expended on the things enjoyed by these
people is greater than that expended in the production of the things
used by the workers. Most of the people who do nothing get the best
of everything. More than three-quarters of the time of the working
classes is spent in producing the things used by the wealthy. Compare
the quality and quantity of the clothing possessed by the wife or
daughter of a rich man with that of the wife or daughter of a worker.
The time and labour spent on producing the one is twenty times greater
in one case than in the other; and it’s the same with everything else.
Their homes, their clothing, boots, hats, jewellery, and their food.
Everything must be of the very best that art or long and painful
labour can produce. But for most of those whose labour produces all
these good things - anything is considered good enough. For
themselves, the philanthropic workers manufacture shoddy cloth - that
is, cheap cloth made of old rags and dirt; and shoddy, uncomfortable
ironclad boots. If you see a workman wearing a really good suit of
clothes you may safely conclude that he is either leading an unnatural
life - that is, he is not married - or that he has obtained it from a
tallyman on the hire system and has not yet paid for it - or that it
is someone else’s castoff suit that he has bought second-hand or had
given to him by some charitable person. It’s the same with the food.
All the ducks and geese, pheasants, partridges, and all the very best
parts of the very best meat - all the soles and the finest plaice and
salmon and trout -‘
`‘Ere chuck it,’ cried Harlow, fiercely. `We don’t want to ‘ear no
more of it,’ and several others protested against the lecturer wasting
time on such mere details.
`- all the very best of everything is reserved exclusively for the
enjoyment of the people in divisions one and two, while the workers
subsist on block ornaments, margarine, adulterated tea, mysterious
beer, and are content - only grumbling when they are unable to obtain
even such fare as this.’
Owen paused and a gloomy silence followed, but suddenly Crass
brightened up. He detected a serious flaw in the lecturer’s argument.
`You say the people in one and two gets all the best of everything,
but what about the tramps and beggars? You’ve got them in division
one.’
`Yes, I know. You see, that’s the proper place for them. They belong
to a Loafer class. They are no better mentally or morally than any of
the other loafers in that division; neither are they of any more use.
Of course, when we consider them in relation to the amount they
consume of the things produced by others, they are not so harmful as
the other loafers, because they consume comparatively little. But all
the same they are in their right place in that division. All those
people don’t get the same share. The section represents not
individuals - but the loafer class.’
`But I thought you said you was goin’ to prove that money was the
cause of poverty,’ said Easton.
`So it is,’ said Owen. `Can’t you see that it’s money that’s caused
all these people to lose sight of the true purpose of labour - the
production of the things we need? All these people are suffering from
the delusion that it doesn’t matter what kind of work they do - or
whether they merely do nothing - so long as they get MONEY for doing
it. Under the present extraordinary system, that’s the only object
they have in view - to get money. Their ideas are so topsy-turvey
that they regard with contempt those who are engaged in useful work!
With the exception of criminals and the poorer sort of loafers, the
working classes are considered to be the lowest and least worthy in
the community. Those who manage to get money for doing something
other than productive work are considered more worthy of respect on
that account. Those who do nothing themselves, but get money out of
the labour of others, are regarded as being more worthy still! But
the ones who are esteemed most of all and honoured above all the rest,
are those who obtain money for doing absolutely nothing!’
`But I can’t see as that proves that money is the cause of poverty,’
said Easton.
`Look here,’ said Owen. `The people in number four produce
everything, don’t they?’
`Yes; we knows all about that,’ interrupted Harlow. `But they gets
paid for it, don’t they? They gets their wages.’
`Yes, and what does their wages consist of?’ said Owen.
`Why, money, of course,’ replied Harlow, impatiently.
And what do they do with their money when they get it? Do they eat
it, or drink it, or wear it?’
At this apparently absurd question several of those who had hitherto
been attentive listeners laughed derisively; it was really very
difficult to listen patiently to such nonsense.
`Of course they don’t,’ answered Harlow scornfully. `They buy the
things they want with it.’
`Do you think that most of them manage to save a part of their wages -
put it away in the bank.’
`Well, I can speak for meself,’ replied Harlow amid laughter. `It
takes me all my bloody time to pay my rent and other expenses and to
keep my little lot in shoe leather, and it’s dam little I spend on
beer; p’r’aps a tanner or a bob a week at the most.’
`A single man can save money if he likes,’ said Slyme.
`I’m not speaking of single men,’ replied Owen. `I’m referring to
those who live natural lives.’
`What about all the money what’s in the Post Office Savings Bank, and
Building and Friendly Societies?’ said Crass.
`A very large part of that belongs to people who are in business, or
who have some other source of income than their own wages. There are
some exceptionally fortunate workers who happen to have good
situations and higher wages than the ordinary run of workmen. Then
there are some who are so placed - by letting lodgings, for instance -
that they are able to live rent free. Others whose wives go out to
work; and others again who have exceptional jobs and work a lot of
overtime - but these are all exceptional cases.’
`I say as no married workin’ man can save any money at all!’ shouted
Harlow, ‘not unless ‘e goes without some of even the few things we are
able to get - and makes ‘is wife and kids go without as well.’
`‘Ear, ‘ear,’ said everybody except Crass and Slyme, who were both
thrifty working men, and each of them had some money saved in one or
other of the institutions mentioned.
`Then that means,’ said Owen, `that means that the wages the people in
division four receive is not equivalent to the work they do.’
`Wotcher mean, equivalent?’ cried Crass. `Why the ‘ell don’t yer talk
plain English without draggin’ in a lot of long words wot nobody can’t
understand?’
`I mean this,’ replied Owen, speaking very slowly. `Everything is
produced by the people in number four. In return for their work they
are given - Money, and the things they have made become the property
of the people who do nothing. Then, as the money is of no use, the
workers go to shops and give it away in exchange for some of the
things they themselves have made. They spend - or give back - ALL
their wages; but as the money they got as wages is not equal in value
to the things they produced, they find that they are only able to buy
back a VERY SMALL PART. So you see that these little discs of metal -
this Money - is a device for enabling those who do not work to rob the
workers of the greater part of the fruits of their toil.’
The silence that ensued was broken by Crass.
`It sounds very pretty,’ he sneered, `but I can’t make no ‘ead or tail
of it, meself.’
`Look here!’ cried Owen. `The producing class - these people in
number four are supposed to be paid for their work. Their wages are
supposed to be equal in value to their work. But it’s not so. If it
were, by spending all their wages, the producing class would be able
to buy back All they had produced.’
Owen ceased speaking and silence once more ensued. No one gave any
sign of understanding, or of agreeing or of disagreeing with what he
had said. Their attitude was strictly neutral. Barrington’s pipe had
gone out during the argument. He relit it from the fire with a piece
of twisted paper.
`If their wages were really equal in value to the product of their
labour,’ Owen repeated, `they would be able to buy back not a small
part - but the Whole.’ …
At this, a remark from Bundy caused a shout of laughter, and when
Wantley added point to the joke by making a sound like the discharge
of a pistol the merriment increased tenfold.
`Well, that’s done it,’ remarked Easton, as he got up and opened the
window.
`It’s about time you was buried, if the smell’s anything to go by,’
said Harlow, addressing Wantley, who laughed and appeared to think he
had distinguished himself.
`But even if we include the whole of the working classes,’ continued
Owen, `that is, the people in number three as well as those in number
four, we find that their combined wages are insufficient to buy the
things made by the producers. The total value of the wealth produced
in this country during the last year was �1,800,000,000, and the total
amount paid in wages during the same period was only �600,000,000. In
other words, by means of the Money Trick, the workers were robbed of
two-thirds of the value of their labour. All the people in numbers
three and four are working and suffering and starving and fighting in
order that the rich people in numbers one and two may live in luxury,
and do nothing. These are the wretches who cause poverty: they not
only devour or waste or hoard the things made by the worker, but as
soon as their own wants are supplied - they compel the workers to
cease working and prevent them producing the things they need. Most
of these people!’ cried Owen, his usually pale face flushing red and
his eyes shining with sudden anger, `most of these people do not
deserve to be called human beings at all! They’re devils! They know
that whilst they are indulging in pleasures of every kind - all around
them men and women and little children are existing in want or dying
of hunger.’
The silence which followed was at length broken by Harlow:
`You say the workers is entitled to all they produce, but you forget
there’s the raw materials to pay for. They don’t make them, you
know.’
`Of course the workers don’t create the raw materials,’ replied Owen.
`But I am not aware that the capitalists or the landlords do so
either. The raw materials exist in abundance in and on the earth, but
they are of no use until labour has been applied to them.’
`But then, you see, the earth belongs to the landlords!’ cried Crass,
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