CHAPTER THREE

WEALTH and MONEY

 

What constitutes “wealth” depends entirely on the context in which the concept is being used.  The context here is political economy: the realm of social organization having to do with the state, politics, the production and distribution of goods and services, and the interplay among all of these aspects of social life.  I am not concerned here with “wealth” as a metaphor or an attribute of thought, as in “a wealth of ideas” or “a wealth of images.”  Nor am I here concerned with the characteristics, qualities, and endowments of natural phenomena, as poets might use “wealth” to refer to the splendor of forests, mountains, and seas.  Nor are the quality of human relationships and personal well-being included here, as in the sense that a person may be considered “wealthy” by virtue of having a multitude of loving, supporting friends or for being blessed with good health in spite of a condition of financial poverty.  These aspects of thought, artistry, nature, human relationships, and health may, indeed, constitute “wealth” in some contexts, and those who possess them may be blessed (or just lucky), but they do not count as wealth in the realm of political economy.

 

Definitions of Wealth in Economics

         In economics, “wealth” has two meanings.  The first meaning is “the assets owned at any given time by an individual, family, or household, measured in money value.”  It is, in other words, private property owned by persons or groups of persons (not companies, corporations, associations, states, or multi-state institutions).  A person or family can have more or less wealth.  Indeed, the value of the wealth can be less than zero if one’s debts amount to more than the value of what one owns.  Indeed, about half of the families and adult individuals in the United States have a negative net wealth—they owe more than they own. 

         This meaning of wealth is distinguished from income, the rate at which a person or group receives assets.  Income is “payment” per hour, week, month, year, or (sometimes) lifetime.  It does not have to come in the form of money, but to count as income it must be capable of being measured by money.  Wealth is usually regarded as the better indicator of economic well-being because it is the measure of how much a person or family has on hand to meet debts and emergencies, as well as to spend at one’s discretion.  One might still have wealth even when one’s income stops or is significantly reduced.

         The second meaning of wealth in economics is broader and less precise, but it is the meaning on which I will concentrate in this chapter.  Here wealth refers to “an abundance of material valuables.”  The notion of abundance may seem a relative concept in that there may be more or less of whatever is valuable, but there is nevertheless plenty of it.  Although there is no absolute level of possession that constitutes wealth, those who, singly or in combination, can be said to be “wealthy” possess significantly more valuables than those who do not qualify.  For example, the aristocrats of 14th Century England possessed much less than “millionaires” in the United States today, but they were wealthy in their time.

         What makes things valuable?  To say that something is valuable obviously means that it is desired.  This only raises other questions.  Desired by whom?  Why is it desired?

         Not everything that is desired is valuable, but everything that is valuable is desired.  For example, children (undoubtedly in very large numbers) desire candy, but that does not mean that candy is valuable.  In order for something to become valuable it must be desired by people whose opinions are highly respected by almost everyone else, which cannot be said for the opinions of children, although we might all be better off if they were.  Alternatively, the desire must be one that nearly everyone shares.  The reasons for the shared desire might be tradition, the commonly held opinion that something is required for survival or comfort, or because those who are already deemed economically wealthy say that it should be desired. 

         At bottom, something has value (is desired) if it can be exchanged for something else that is valuable.  A veritable cultural system arises by which most people in a society participate to give value to some things and not to others.  What makes diamonds valuable, especially when telling the genuine article from a fake requires a trained eye looking into a microscope?

 

A Cross-Cultural Comparison

A cross-cultural comparison might help make this point clearer.  Anthropologists have described a variety of hunter-gatherer societies.  (The following account of hunter-gatherer societies has benefited from conversations with anthropologists Alice Reich and Colby Hatfield.  I have also drawn on the description of hunter-gatherer societies by Ernestine Friedl, Women and Men: An Anthropologist’s View, 1984.)  In such societies, production is a matter of hunting animals and gathering roots, fruits, berries, and grains, plus a system for preparing and preserving, if necessary, whatever is obtained by hunting and gathering.  There is no significant agriculture.  People eat what nature provides.  When nature’s provisions grow scarce in a particular place, the people move to another place.  Dwellings are ordinarily relatively simple since they are not intended to be permanent.  Production and consumption are directly linked: hunting and gathering are undertaken when there is need of food, and what is killed or gathered is consumed as soon as it can be prepared.

         What can be said to be valuable in such a society?  By and large, the only things of value are the tools for hunting and gathering, preparing and preserving food, and for constructing shelter.  Perhaps a few religious icons are deemed valuable, but apparently this is rare in hunter-gatherer societies.  In other words, hunter-gatherer societies produce little wealth in economic terms.  Hunter-gatherers accumulate few belongings, and even among these belongings there is little that is regarded as having value.  In other words, hunter-gatherer societies do not produce wealth.  No one in hunter-gatherer societies is wealthy.  If, somehow, a member of such a society begins to accumulate things that other people want, he or she will be compelled by tradition and public pressure to give it away.

         Capitalist societies, on the other hand, produce a great deal of wealth.  In contrast to hunter-gatherer societies, there is no direct link in capitalism between production and consumption because production is undertaken for purposes of trade rather than for purposes of immediate use.  Money is used to facilitate trade.  It serves as a medium through which goods are exchanged.  Among the many purposes of money, it can be used as a store or measure of value.  Whatever is desired has a money price.  If one is hungry, once cannot simply go out and forage in the local forests and meadows, which are the private property of someone else, or which are public territories administered by state agencies as if they were private property. (Of course, some people do forage for food in dumpsters and city dumpsites, but they are the outcasts of capitalist societies.  And when they hunt for food on land that is someone else’s private property, they are poachers—criminals.)  One must purchase food.  Almost everything else that one might want—shelter, clothing, transportation, entertainment—cannot be obtained by producing it directly.  Money is the only way to obtain valued items, through purchase.

 

 

The Meaning of Money

         The consequence of this system of exchange is that money itself becomes the most valuable thing of all.  It has a rather wonderful attribute: it is the measure of, and can be exchanged for, almost anything that is desired.  As Karl Marx (1975/1844) wrote, rather pithily:

         Money, inasmuch as it possesses the property of being able to buy everything and appropriate all objects, is the object most worth possessing.  The universality of this possession is the basis of money’s omnipotence; hence it is regarded as an omnipotent being…. Money is the pimp between need and object, between life and man’s [sic] means of life.

 

         Can money buy happiness?  Well, in capitalist society, it is the only thing that can—if happiness can be bought.  (There are those who say that happiness cannot be bought.  That is still a hypothesis, unproven as yet, but with considerable evidence behind it.  It is certain that a great many people have tried to buy it, but none have proved they succeeded, nor has it been shown definitively that all who tried it have failed.)  In any case, money is no longer merely the measure of wealth, although it remains that as one of its lesser attributes.  It is wealth when one has it in abundance.

         Recall the two questions posed above: Whose desires make something valuable?  Why do they desire what they do?  Everyone in capitalist society desires money.  Money is desired because it alone can obtain the goods and services people want for their material, or physical, well-being.  Beyond material benefits, money in abundance obtains high social status.  Sufficient money enables people to attain an acceptable standing in their communities.  For example, Joseph Kennedy, father of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, and Ted Kennedy, made the family fortune as a bootlegger during Prohibition.  He himself became U.S. ambassador to the United Kingdom and established the family in an exclusive community in Massachusetts—all because of the money he had, albeit amassed illegally.  Much the same could be said for the Rockefeller fortune, or the fortunes of the 19th Century Robber Barons, all assembled unethically if not illegally.  But those are now the most prominent families in the U.S.

         One of the most important attributes of money is that is symbolizes freedom.  The British sociologist Nigel Dodd (1994) has written an extensive discussion of the symbolic meanings of money, especially its association among the peoples of Europe and North America with the idea of freedom.  Dodd quotes the early 20th Century sociologist Georg Simmel on the symbolic association of money with freedom and control over one’s destiny.  Simmel, writing in the 1920s, predicted a society in which people’s attachment to money would become greater than their attachment to each other because industrial (capitalist) society produces a growing number of asymmetrical social relationships (i.e., relationships in which rights and obligations are unequally distributed).  Money, wrote Simmel, has a universal capacity to deliver a person from unwanted circumstances and obligations, making it desirable to both those who already have an abundance of rights (in order to protect them) and those with onerous obligations (in order to get out of them). John Kenneth Galbraith (1975), one of the most respected (and humorous) economists of the late 20th Century and a man of great inherited wealth, wrote, “Most things in life—automobiles, mistresses, cancer—are important only to those who have them.  Money, in contrast, is equally important to those who have it and those who don’t.”  The reason it is so important to everyone is that it symbolically represents freedom.

         I do not mean to claim that persons in capitalist societies can have no motives that are not driven by money, or that persons in capitalist societies do not appreciate and desire things that have no monetary value.  Most of us “value” beautiful sunsets, grand views from mountaintops, fresh air, loving friends and any number of other phenomena and events that seem to have no monetary value in themselves and cannot be obtained by simple purchase.  My point is that members of capitalist societies are compelled by the social structure to think about money, whether they want to or not.  It is not a choice people have.  Money is thought about so commonly that most people are not even aware that they are thinking about it.  But think of it they do.  Nearly every action involves some calculation of a transaction in money terms, whether it is going to the grocery store, simply window shopping, going on a date, planning to marry, planning for children, going on vacation, making funeral arrangements, or simply goofing off.  In short, the most intimately personal, the grandest, and the most trivial aspects of our lives involve money.  Most people must especially think about how to get money.  The decisions they make about that lead to hundreds of millions of lives spent in dangerous, boring, mind-numbing jobs—and crime.

         One of the most insidious and alluring attributes of money is that it can obtain greater access to many of the things that seem to have no monetary value—things like sunsets and spectacular views.  People with abundant supplies of money can reserve for themselves mountaintops with spectacular views.  They can travel to places where beautiful sunsets over unspoiled beaches are plentiful.  They can purify the air in their dwellings or move to places where air is not polluted.  They have the means to maintain communication with friends in distant places and make meetings among friends convivial and comfortable, heightening the sense of camaraderie and intimacy.  These things, in capitalist societies, often assume a monetary value and as such constitute wealth.

         In contrast with people in capitalist societies, hunter-gatherers have no use for money.  It can obtain for them practically nothing that is valuable.  Consequently, it has no symbolic association with being more free or empowered.  If hunter-gatherers begin to use money to purchase the things they previously obtained by hunting and gathering, or by even-up trade (i.e., a trade of value-for-value rather than profit) with neighboring societies, they cease to be hunter-gatherers.  That is, the introduction of money or anything else that carries symbolic exchange value changes the procedures by which they create and sustain the basis for their material existence, and hence changes fundamentally the nature of the society. 

         For example, anthropologist Lauriston Sharpe (1952) studied the consequences when an Australian aboriginal society accepted steel axes from missionaries.  The missionaries thought they were simply providing “better” axes than the stone axes the aborigines used.  But they misunderstood what the steel axes meant symbolically to the aborigines.  The axes became valuable as means of exchange and the attainment of prestige for members of the society who had never had such access before.  The society ultimately tumbled into alcoholism and chaos, its symbolic universe crushed, and it ultimately disintegrated.  It disappeared!

         Making and accumulating material goods is, beyond a few tools, meaningless activity in hunter-gatherer societies.  Indeed, a large accumulation of material goods would work to their disadvantage, since they would have to tote the goods from one site to the next as the community moved in search of new sources of food.  Wealth, as it is known and understood in capitalist societies, does not exist for hunter-gatherers.

 

The Production of Wealth

         This contrast raises another aspect of the nature and meaning of wealth.  Wealth is created in the same process by which humans create the basis for their material existence, and the importance of wealth depends predominantly on that process.  In other words, wealth is not distinct from the fundamental organization and processes of a society’s system of production but is a direct consequence of production.  Wealth is not “accidental.”  It does not simply appear as an element of nature, nor does it accrue to one person rather than another in haphazard fashion.  It is the system of production that determines whether there is wealth, how much of it there is, and who gets it.

         Whether wealth exists or not seems to depend mostly on whether production is geared toward immediate consumption by the community that produces the goods or toward distribution to another community.  Hunter-gatherers, for example, produce for immediate consumption by the social group that collectively gathers and hunts.  On the other hand, capitalist societies organize production so that those who produce the goods ordinarily have no right to them.  The goods are distributed to others primarily in markets (see Chapter 4).  In societies that use slaves to produce goods, slave-owners appropriate what the slaves produce.  In feudal societies, only a small part of production is consumed by those who produce; the bulk goes to those who control the land or who, by custom or law, lay claim to the produce of those who toil.

         The existence of wealth also depends upon the hierarchy imbedded in the organization of production, as implied by the examples just given.  With respect to production, at least, there is no hierarchy in hunter-gatherer societies.  No one tells another what to gather or how to go about it, or when or where to hunt.  No one sets a quota of goods for another to “produce” by a certain time.  There are, in short, no managers or supervisors.  There may be accusations of “laziness” or disagreements about the distribution of food, but these are not based on one’s hierarchical superiority in the organization of production.  No one can lay claim to what another has produced except as an equal member of a community that produces what all share.  In other words, there may be arguments about whether a member of the community is doing her or his share, but production itself is not organized hierarchically.  [See Colin Turnbull (1961); R.B. Lee (1984); and T.A. Volkman (n.d.)]

         By contrast, in capitalist, slave, or feudal societies there are carefully defined hierarchical relations of production.  Goods flow upward in the hierarchy.  Being able, by virtue of position in the hierarchy, to tell others what and how to produce also entitles one to a disproportionate share of what is produced.  The hierarchical structure makes possible the accumulation of goods by some rather than by others.  In short, the presence of hierarchy in production makes possible the creation of wealth.  Further, the social system of production, in particular the hierarchy involved, determines who controls the wealth.  In other words, the hierarchy determines how wealth is distributed.

         As the above illustrations show, the social significance of wealth is not determined primarily by what it can obtain for gratification, but rather by how it is produced.  Put another way, although desire defines what is valuable, it has little to do with access to what one desires.  One can desire a great deal, but that has nothing to do with obtaining what one wants, that is, with having wealth.

         Wealth, after all, does not merely appear.  It must be created.  It is not created merely by people wanting something.  Its creation is a social process.  Specifically, objects in the natural world must be manipulated, re-arranged, transformed into something else in order for wealth to be created.  In other words, wealth cannot be created unless human beings act upon the natural world in some way.  Furthermore, not all such action creates wealth.  We have already seen that hunter-gatherers produce little or no wealth, although they are almost constantly involved in transforming nature by killing animals and harvesting vegetation.

         Why is wealth created in capitalist societies and not in hunter-gatherer societies?  Why does wealth become such a preoccupying aspect of consciousness among people in capitalist societies whereas hunter-gatherers give it practically no thought at all?

         The answers lie in the manner in which production is carried out.  The essential character of wealth is that it cannot be created without putting people to work at tasks that are not directly linked to the usefulness of the product.

         For example, the transforming activities of hunter-gatherers are directly connected to the purposes for which things are transformed.  They kill game and gather fruit in order to eat.  They build huts in order to be sheltered.  In the capitalist system of production, by contrast, people’s work is not directly linked to the satisfaction of any desires.  Farmers grow food in order to sell it, not in order to eat it themselves.  Autoworkers do not produce cars for their own transportation, but so that they can acquire money in the form of wages, and the auto companies can sell the cars the workers make.  In order for wealth to exist, things must be produced for purposes other than their use.  In particular, use by the actual producers must not be a factor.

         Put another way, wealth can be produced only by a production system that generates surplus.  Hunter-gatherers produce only what is necessary for all members of the society to survive.  The methods and tools of production are incapable of producing much of a surplus, and whatever surplus is created is preserved for use by all during those times when necessities become scarce.  On the other hand, capitalism is geared to produce surplus.  Each worker must produce far more than he or she could possibly consume.  Indeed, workers as a group must produce more than can be consumed by everyone in the entire society, so that some members of society can accumulate and hold for themselves things that are valued by others.

         Economies organized to produce surpluses (and hence wealth)—slave, feudal, or capitalist—have another feature in common: those who produce the wealth may not participate in it to any great extent.  Those who produce the wealth do so for the benefit of those who do not produce.  Capitalism, it might convincingly be argued, is simply the most efficient of systems so far devised for getting most people to produce a surplus that will be available almost exclusively to those (the relatively few) who do not produce it.

         This arrangement is not arbitrary.  It is necessary to maintain the social arrangements by which one person or group compels another to create more than is necessary for everyone’s existence on a more or less equal basis.  In order for surplus—hence wealth—to be created, those who produce the surplus cannot benefit to the extent that non-producers do.  If they could, there would be no social mechanism powerful enough to convince them to keep producing. Not even the threat of coercion would suffice.  After all, the guns, prisons, and poorhouses used as a last resort to coerce the cooperation of workers under capitalism would be equally available to workers if goods were distributed equally.  Everyone would have equal access to the means of coercion.  There would either be perpetual war or perpetual stalemate.  In either case, no group, or “class,” would be able to maintain a disproportionate and secure share of the surplus.  Indeed, it is doubtful under conditions of perpetual war or stalemate that any surplus would be produced.

         But is production-for-surplus a necessary condition for the creation of wealth?  Perhaps it is possible for a surplus to be created and that surplus held in common by all society members equally.  In that case, no actual wealth would be created.  According to this argument, the reason for the absence of wealth in hunter-gatherer societies is not the limitation of their tools and the organization of production.  Rather, the absence of wealth is the consequence of the system of distribution by which everything that is produced is shared equally.  Wealth, according to this argument, is not the result of the system of production but of distribution, specifically the unequal distribution of surplus.

         Such arguments, however, are irrelevant to an understanding of economic institutions.  They are particularly irrelevant to an understanding of wealth.  Production and distribution are inextricably linked.  A system of production geared to surplus must be based on unequal distribution of the product, and a system of unequal distribution is necessarily based on a hierarchical system of production.  Which one “causes” the other simply does not matter.  For the creation of surplus, hence, of wealth, the system of production must be organized so that those who will benefit the most from the surplus are able to control the activities of those who will not.  If control rested with the producers themselves, distribution would necessarily be equal, no surplus would be produced (except as a common hedge against future shortfall), and there would be no wealth.  Whether those who control production do so by dint of what they have accumulated or accumulate surplus because they control production is not the issue.

 

Wealth Is Power

The key to understanding wealth is to realize that wealth only exists when those who have abundance are different from those who created the abundance.  Understood this way, wealth is much more than “an abundance of valuables.”  It is a system of human relationships.  In particular, it is a system of power by which those who control the abundance also control the people who created the abundance.  It follows that wealth is also a system of exploitation in that the non-producers expropriate what is produced from those who do the work.

         The concept of wealth implies these attributes of human relationships.  It should be impossible to hear or read the word “wealth” in the context of political economy without making the connection between having wealth and having power over others—without recognizing, to put it tersely, that having wealth always involves controlling others against their interests and taking from them what they have produced.

         Some people object to this characterization of wealth, especially to calling it exploitation.  It is all right to recognize wealth as power—nearly all ideological tendencies recognize that—but “exploitation” carries a connotation that suggests misuse of power, a sinister purpose, perhaps even a wanton meanness.

         I would use another word if I could find one that described the process of controlling people against their interests and expropriating what they produce as well as “exploitation” does.  I do not mean to assess blame to wealthy persons or those who actually control workers (managers) in the interests of the wealthy.  My point is that the capitalist economy—and other economies that produce surplus and a class of wealthy persons—necessarily involves the process of using some people’s labor in a manner that is more beneficial to people who do not produce anything than it is to the actual producers.  That, it seems to me, is what nearly everyone would call “exploitation.”  It is “sinister” and “mean,” not as an attribute of anyone’s consciousness, but precisely because we can (and do) engage in this process without being conscious of what we are doing.

         Please note also that the exploitation is not a matter of forcing people to work in adverse conditions or not compensating them enough for their work.  There is a difference between exploitation and abuse.  While the institutionalization of exploitation is an invitation to abuse—and we see plenty of abuse of workers in the history of capitalism, from the child labor in the coal mines and textile mills of the 19th and 20th centuries to the sweatshops of today—there is no necessary link.  Many a capitalist exploiter has been gracious and generous, even to his employees.  At this point, I only want to stress that the exploitation involved in wealth is contained in the mere fact of controlling the work time of workers and expropriating what they produce—regardless of how much they are paid and the conditions under which they work.

 

Conclusion

The conceptualization I have presented here is in sharp contrast to predominant understandings of wealth.  It is common for economists and sociologists, as well as nearly everyone else, to conceptualize wealth simply as a collection of valued material goods.  Rarely do we realize what is implied by wealth in human terms.  By ignoring its social origin and significance, we may be led to accept wealth as an accident of birth, as a “just reward” for hard work or skill or even cunning, or a “natural” and therefore unavoidable phenomenon.  Such an “unsocial” conception of wealth, one that defines people in relation to things rather than in relation to other people, encourages us to overlook our capacity to change the social arrangements by which wealth is created and maintained.

 

Note: Recommended Reading

One of the very best brief accounts of the history and social significance of money is in Richard H. Robbins (2005), Global Problems and the Culture of Capitalism, 3rd Edition. Boston: Pearson Education, Inc., pp. 1-12.

 

[Revised August 2004]

 

References

Dodd, N. 1994. The Sociology of Money. New York: Continuum.

 

Friedl, E. 1984. Women and Men: An Anthropologist’s View. Prospect Heights: Waveland Press.

 

Galbraith, J.K. 1975. Money: Whence It Came, Where It Went. New York: Bantam Books.

 

Lee, R.B. 1984. The Dobe !Kung. New York: Hold, Rinehart and Winston.

 

Marx, K. 1975. Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts (1844), in Karl Marx: Early Writings, edited and translated by R. Livingstone and G. Benson. New York: Vintage Books.

 

Sharpe, L. 1952. Steel Axes for Stone-Age Australians. Human Organization. Vol. 11 (Summer).

 

Turnbull, C. 1961. The Forest People. New York: Simon and Schuster.

 

Volkman, T.A. n.d.  The San in Transition, Vol. 1: A Guide to “N!ai, the Story of a !Kung Woman.”  Documentary Educational Resources and Cultural Survival.