Chapter II The Effect of Increase of Population upon the Distribution of Wealth

The manner in which increasing population advances rent, as explained and illustrated in current treatises, is that the increased demand for subsistence forces production to inferior soil or to inferior productive points. Thus, if, with a given population, the margin of cultivation is at 30, all lands of productive power over 30 will pay rent. If the population be doubled, an additional supply is required, which cannot be obtained without an extension of cultivation that will cause lands to yield rent that before yielded none. If the extension be to 20, then all the land between 20 and 30 will yield rent and have a value, and all land over 30 will yield increased rent and have increased value.

Current treatises explain that increasing population advances rent because the greater demand for subsistence forces production onto inferior soil or inferior productive points. Suppose that, with a given population, the margin of cultivation is at 30. Then all lands with productive power over 30 pay rent. If the population doubles, an additional supply is needed, and it cannot be had without extending cultivation, so that lands that earlier yielded no rent now yield some. Suppose the extension reaches 20. Then all the land between 20 and 30 will yield rent and have a value, and all land over 30 will yield increased rent and have increased value.

It is here that the Malthusian doctrine receives from the current elucidations of the theory of rent the support of which I spoke when enumerating the causes that have combined to give that doctrine an almost undisputed sway in current thought. According to the Malthusian theory, the pressure of population against subsistence becomes progressively harder as population increases, and although two hands come into the world with every new mouth, it becomes, to use the language of John Stuart Mill, harder and harder for the new hands to supply the new mouths. According to Ricardo’s theory of rent, rent arises from the difference in productiveness of the lands in use, and as explained by Ricardo and the economists who have followed him, the advance229 in rents which, experience shows, accompanies increasing population, is caused by the inability of procuring more food except at a greater cost, which thus forces the margin of population to lower and lower points of production, commensurately increasing rent. Thus the two theories, as I have before explained, are made to harmonize and blend, the law of rent becoming but a special application of the more general law propounded by Malthus, and the advance of rents with increasing population a demonstration of its resistless operation. I refer to this incidentally, because it now lies in our way to see the misapprehension which has enlisted the doctrine of rent in the support of a theory to which it in reality gives no countenance. The Malthusian theory has been already disposed of, and the cumulative disproof which will prevent the recurrence of a lingering doubt will be given when it is shown, further on, that the phenomena attributed to the pressure of population against subsistence would, under existing conditions, manifest themselves were population to remain stationary.

Here the Malthusian doctrine gets from the current account of the theory of rent the support I mentioned when listing the causes that have given that doctrine almost undisputed sway in current thought. According to the Malthusian theory, the pressure of population against subsistence grows harder as population increases. Two hands come into the world with every new mouth, but, in John Stuart Mill's words, it gets harder and harder for the new hands to supply the new mouths. According to Ricardo's theory of rent, rent arises from the difference in productiveness among the lands in use. As Ricardo and the economists after him explain it, the advance229 in rents that experience shows to accompany increasing population is caused by the inability to get more food except at greater cost. That forces the margin of population down to lower and lower points of production and raises rent in step. So, as I have explained before, the two theories are made to harmonize and blend. The law of rent becomes a special application of Malthus's more general law, and the advance of rents with increasing population becomes a demonstration of its resistless operation. I mention this only in passing, because we now have to see the misunderstanding that has enlisted the doctrine of rent in support of a theory it does not in fact support. I have already disposed of the Malthusian theory. The cumulative disproof that will end any lingering doubt comes later, when I show that the phenomena blamed on population pressing against subsistence would, under existing conditions, appear even if population stayed stationary.

The misapprehension to which I now refer, and which, to a proper understanding of the effect of increase of population upon the distribution of wealth, it is necessary to clear up, is the presumption, expressed or implied in all the current reasoning upon the subject of rent in connection with population, that the recourse to lower points of production involves a smaller aggregate produce in proportion to the labor expended; though that this is not always the case is clearly recognized in connection with agricultural improvements, which, to use the words of Mill, are considered “as a partial relaxation of the bonds which confine the increase of population.” But it is not involved even where there is no advance in the arts, and the recourse to lower points of production is clearly the result of the increased demand of an increased population. For increased population, of itself, and230 without any advance in the arts, implies an increase in the productive power of labor. The labor of 100 men, other things being equal, will produce much more than one hundred times as much as the labor of one man, and the labor of 1,000 men much more than ten times as much as the labor of 100 men; and, so, with every additional pair of hands which increasing population brings, there is a more than proportionate addition to the productive power of labor. Thus, with an increasing population, there may be a recourse to lower natural powers of production, not only without any diminution in the average production of wealth as compared to labor, but without any diminution at the lowest point. If population be doubled, land of but 20 productiveness may yield to the same amount of labor as much as land of 30 productiveness could before yield. For it must not be forgotten (what often is forgotten) that the productiveness either of land or labor is not to be measured in any one thing, but in all desired things. A settler and his family may raise as much corn on land a hundred miles away from the nearest habitation as they could raise were their land in the center of a populous district. But in the populous district they could obtain with the same labor as good a living from much poorer land, or from land of equal quality could make as good a living after paying a high rent, because in the midst of a large population their labor would have become more effective; not, perhaps, in the production of corn, but in the production of wealth generally—or the obtaining of all the commodities and services which are the real object of their labor.

The misunderstanding I mean must be cleared up before we can understand the effect of increased population on the distribution of wealth. It is the presumption, stated or implied in all the current reasoning about rent and population, that turning to lower points of production means a smaller total produce in proportion to the labor spent. Writers clearly recognize that this is not always so with agricultural improvements, which Mill describes as “a partial relaxation of the bonds which confine the increase of population.” But it is not so even where the arts have not advanced. There the turn to lower points of production plainly results from the greater demand of a larger population. Increased population in itself, and230 without any advance in the arts, implies an increase in the productive power of labor. Other things equal, the labor of 100 men will produce much more than one hundred times what one man's labor produces, and the labor of 1,000 men much more than ten times what 100 men's labor produces. So every additional pair of hands that a growing population brings adds more than proportionately to labor's productive power. So with a growing population there can be a turn to lower natural powers of production. The average production of wealth compared to labor need not decline, and neither need production at the lowest point. If population doubles, land of only 20 productiveness may give the same amount of labor as much as land of 30 productiveness could before. We must not forget (though it often is forgotten) that the productiveness of land or labor is not to be measured in any one thing but in all desired things. A settler and his family may raise as much corn on land a hundred miles from the nearest habitation as they could if their land were in the center of a populous district. But in the populous district they could make as good a living from much poorer land. Or from land of equal quality they could make as good a living after paying a high rent. In the midst of a large population their labor has become more effective, perhaps not in producing corn but in producing wealth generally, that is, in obtaining all the goods and services that are the real object of their labor.

But even where there is a diminution in the productiveness of labor at the lowest point—that is to say, where the increasing demand for wealth has driven production to a lower point of natural productiveness than the addition to the power of labor from increasing popu231lation suffices to make up for—it does not follow that the aggregate production, as compared with the aggregate labor, has been lessened.

Even where productiveness at the lowest point does decline, it does not follow that total production has fallen compared with total labor. That is the case where the growing demand for wealth has driven production to a lower point of natural productiveness than the added power of labor from increasing population231 can make up for.

Let us suppose land of diminishing qualities. The best would naturally be settled first, and as population increased production would take in the next lower quality, and so on. But, as the increase of population, by permitting greater economies, adds to the effectiveness of labor, the cause which brought each quality of land successively into cultivation would at the same time increase the amount of wealth that the same quality of labor could produce from it. But it would also do more than this—it would increase the power of producing wealth on all the superior lands already in cultivation. If the relations of quantity and quality were such that increasing population added to the effectiveness of labor faster than it compelled a resort to less productive qualities of land, though the margin of cultivation would fall and rent would rise, the minimum return to labor would increase. That is to say, though wages as a proportion would fall, wages as a quantity would rise. The average production of wealth would increase. If the relations were such that the increasing effectiveness of labor just compensated for the diminishing productiveness of the land as it was called into use, the effect of increasing population would be to increase rent by lowering the margin of cultivation without reducing wages as a quantity, and to increase the average production. If we now suppose population still increasing, but, between the poorest quality of land in use and the next lower quality, to be a difference so great that the increased power of labor which comes with the increased population that brings it into cultivation cannot compensate for it—the minimum return to labor will be reduced, and with the rise of rents, wages will fall, not only as a proportion, but as a quantity. But unless the descent in232 the quality of land is far more precipitous than we can well imagine, or than, I think, ever exists, the average production will still be increased, for the increased effectiveness which comes by reason of the increased population that compels resort to the inferior quality of land attaches to all labor, and the gain on the superior qualities of land will more than compensate for the diminished production on the quality last brought in. The aggregate wealth production, as compared with the aggregate expenditure of labor, will be greater, though its distribution will be more unequal.

Suppose land of diminishing qualities. The best would naturally be settled first, and as population grew, production would take in the next lower quality, and so on. But increasing population permits greater economies and adds to the effectiveness of labor. So the cause that brought each quality of land into cultivation in turn would at the same time increase the wealth that the same quality of labor could produce from it. It would do more than this. It would increase the power of producing wealth on all the superior lands already in cultivation. Suppose increasing population added to the effectiveness of labor faster than it forced a turn to less productive land. Then the margin of cultivation would fall and rent would rise, but the minimum return to labor would increase. That is, wages as a proportion would fall, but wages as a quantity would rise. The average production of wealth would increase. Suppose instead that the increasing effectiveness of labor just made up for the declining productiveness of the land as it was called into use. Then increasing population would raise rent by lowering the margin of cultivation without reducing wages as a quantity, and the average production would increase. Now suppose population still growing, but with so great a difference between the poorest quality of land in use and the next lower quality that the added power of labor from the extra population cannot make up for it. The minimum return to labor will fall, and with the rise of rents, wages will fall not only as a proportion but as a quantity. But unless the descent in232 the quality of land is far steeper than we can well imagine, or than I think ever exists, the average production will still increase. The added effectiveness that comes from the larger population forcing the turn to inferior land applies to all labor. The gain on the superior lands more than makes up for the reduced production on the quality last brought in. Total wealth production compared with total expenditure of labor will be greater, though its distribution will be more unequal.

Thus, increase of population, as it operates to extend production to lower natural levels, operates to increase rent and reduce wages as a proportion, and may or may not reduce wages as a quantity; while it seldom can, and probably never does, reduce the aggregate production of wealth as compared with the aggregate expenditure of labor, but on the contrary increases, and frequently largely increases it.

So increasing population extends production to lower natural levels, and in doing so it raises rent and reduces wages as a proportion. It may or may not reduce wages as a quantity. It seldom can, and probably never does, reduce total production of wealth compared with total expenditure of labor. On the contrary it increases it, often largely.

But while the increase of population thus increases rent by lowering the margin of cultivation, it is a mistake to look upon this as the only mode by which rent advances as population grows. Increasing population increases rent, without reducing the margin of cultivation; and notwithstanding the dicta of such writers as McCulloch, who assert that rent would not arise were there an unbounded extent of equally good land, increases it without reference to the natural qualities of land, for the increased powers of co-operation and exchange which come with increased population are equivalent to—nay, I think we can say without metaphor, that they give—an increased capacity to land.

Increasing population does raise rent by lowering the margin of cultivation. But it is a mistake to see this as the only way rent advances as population grows. Increasing population raises rent without lowering the margin of cultivation. Writers such as McCulloch assert that rent would not arise if there were an unbounded extent of equally good land. Notwithstanding them, population raises rent without reference to the natural qualities of land. The greater powers of co-operation and exchange that come with increased population are equivalent to an increased capacity of the land. I think we can say without metaphor that they give it one.

I do not mean to say merely that, like an improvement in the methods or tools of production, the increased power which comes with increased population gives to the same labor an increased result, which is equivalent233 to an increase in the natural powers of land; but that it brings out a superior power in labor, which is localized on land—which attaches not to labor generally, but only to labor exerted on particular land; and which thus inheres in the land as much as any qualities of soil, climate, mineral deposit, or natural situation, and passes, as they do, with the possession of the land.

I do not merely mean that the increased power that comes with increased population, like an improvement in the methods or tools of production, gives the same labor a larger result. That is equivalent233 to an increase in the natural powers of land. I mean that it brings out a superior power in labor which is localized on land. It attaches not to labor generally but only to labor exerted on particular land. It inheres in the land as much as any quality of soil, climate, mineral deposit or natural situation, and passes with possession of the land as they do.

An improvement in the method of cultivation which, with the same outlay, will give two crops a year in place of one, or an improvement in tools and machinery which will double the result of labor, will manifestly, on a particular piece of ground, have the same effect on the produce as a doubling of the fertility of the land. But the difference is in this respect—the improvement in method or in tools can be utilized on any land; but the improvement in fertility can be utilized only on the particular land to which it applies. Now, in large part, the increased productiveness of labor which arises from increased population can be utilized only on particular land, and on particular land in greatly varying degrees.

Suppose an improvement in method of cultivation gives two crops a year instead of one for the same outlay. Or suppose an improvement in tools and machinery doubles the result of labor. On a particular piece of ground, either clearly has the same effect on the produce as doubling the fertility of the land. But there is a difference. The improvement in method or tools can be used on any land. The improvement in fertility can be used only on the particular land it applies to. Now, a large part of the increased productiveness of labor that arises from increased population can be used only on particular land, and on particular land in greatly varying degrees.

Here, let us imagine, is an unbounded savannah, stretching off in unbroken sameness of grass and flower, tree and rill, till the traveler tires of the monotony. Along comes the wagon of the first immigrant. Where to settle he cannot tell—every acre seems as good as every other acre. As to wood, as to water, as to fertility, as to situation, there is absolutely no choice, and he is perplexed by the embarrassment of richness. Tired out with the search for one place that is better than another, he stops—somewhere, anywhere—and starts to make himself a home. The soil is virgin and rich, game is abundant, the streams flash with the finest trout. Nature is at her very best. He has what, were he in a populous district, would make him rich; but he is very poor. To say nothing of the mental craving, which would lead him to welcome the sorriest stranger, he234 labors under all the material disadvantages of solitude. He can get no temporary assistance for any work that requires a greater union of strength than that afforded by his own family, or by such help as he can permanently keep. Though he has cattle, he cannot often have fresh meat, for to get a beefsteak he must kill a bullock. He must be his own blacksmith, wagonmaker, carpenter, and cobbler—in short, a “jack of all trades and master of none.” He cannot have his children schooled, for, to do so, he must himself pay and maintain a teacher. Such things as he cannot produce himself, he must buy in quantities and keep on hand, or else go without, for he cannot be constantly leaving his work and making a long journey to the verge of civilization; and when forced to do so, the getting of a vial of medicine or the replacement of a broken auger may cost him the labor of himself and horses for days. Under such circumstances, though nature is prolific, the man is poor. It is an easy matter for him to get enough to eat; but beyond this, his labor will suffice to satisfy only the simplest wants in the rudest way.

Here, let us imagine, is an unbounded savannah, stretching off in unbroken sameness of grass and flower, tree and rill, until the traveler tires of the monotony. Along comes the wagon of the first immigrant. He cannot tell where to settle, because every acre seems as good as every other. As to wood, water, fertility and situation there is absolutely no choice, and he is perplexed by the embarrassment of riches. Tired of searching for a place better than another, he stops somewhere, anywhere, and starts to make a home. The soil is virgin and rich, game is abundant, and the streams flash with the finest trout. Nature is at her very best. He has what would make him rich in a populous district, but he is very poor. Leave aside the mental craving that would make him welcome the sorriest stranger. He234 suffers all the material disadvantages of solitude. He can get no temporary help for any work that needs more strength than his own family or the help he can permanently keep can supply. He has cattle, but he cannot often have fresh meat, because to get a beefsteak he must kill a bullock. He must be his own blacksmith, wagonmaker, carpenter and cobbler. In short, he is a “jack of all trades and master of none.” He cannot have his children schooled, because he would have to pay and maintain a teacher himself. What he cannot produce himself he must buy in quantity and keep on hand, or go without, because he cannot keep leaving his work for a long journey to the edge of civilization. When he is forced to go, getting a vial of medicine or replacing a broken auger may cost the labor of himself and his horses for days. In such circumstances, though nature is prolific, the man is poor. It is easy for him to get enough to eat, but beyond that his labor will satisfy only the simplest wants in the rudest way.

Soon there comes another immigrant. Although every quarter section of the boundless plain is as good as every other quarter section, he is not beset by any embarrassment as to where to settle. Though the land is the same, there is one place that is clearly better for him than any other place, and that is where there is already a settler and he may have a neighbor. He settles by the side of the first comer, whose condition is at once greatly improved, and to whom many things are now possible that were before impossible, for two men may help each other to do things that one man could never do.

Soon another immigrant comes. Every quarter section of the boundless plain is as good as every other, but he is not troubled about where to settle. The land is the same, yet one place is clearly better for him than any other. That is where there is already a settler and he may have a neighbor. He settles beside the first comer, whose condition at once improves greatly. Many things are now possible for him that were impossible before, because two men can help each other do things one man could never do.

Another immigrant comes, and, guided by the same attraction, settles where there are already two. Another, and another, until around our first comer there are a235 score of neighbors. Labor has now an effectiveness which, in the solitary state, it could not approach. If heavy work is to be done, the settlers have a log-rolling, and together accomplish in a day what singly would require years. When one kills a bullock, the others take part of it, returning when they kill, and thus they have fresh meat all the time. Together they hire a schoolmaster, and the children of each are taught for a fractional part of what similar teaching would have cost the first settler. It becomes a comparatively easy matter to send to the nearest town, for some one is always going. But there is less need for such journeys. A blacksmith and a wheelwright soon set up shops, and our settler can have his tools repaired for a small part of the labor it formerly cost him. A store is opened and he can get what he wants as he wants it; a post-office, soon added, gives him regular communication with the rest of the world. Then come a cobbler, a carpenter, a harness-maker, a doctor; and a little church soon arises. Satisfactions become possible that in the solitary state were impossible. There are gratifications for the social and the intellectual nature—for that part of the man that rises above the animal. The power of sympathy, the sense of companionship, the emulation of comparison and contrast, open a wider, and fuller, and more varied life. In rejoicing, there are others to rejoice; in sorrow, the mourners do not mourn alone. There are husking bees, and apple parings, and quilting parties. Though the ballroom be unplastered and the orchestra but a fiddle, the notes of the magician are yet in the strain, and Cupid dances with the dancers. At the wedding, there are others to admire and enjoy; in the house of death, there are watchers; by the open grave, stands human sympathy to sustain the mourners. Occasionally, comes a straggling lecturer to open up glimpses of the world of science, of literature, or of art; in election times,236 come stump speakers, and the citizen rises to a sense of dignity and power, as the cause of empires is tried before him in the struggle of John Doe and Richard Roe for his support and vote. And, by and by, comes the circus, talked of months before, and opening to children whose horizon has been the prairie, all the realms of the imagination—princes and princesses of fairy tale, mail-clad crusaders and turbaned Moors, Cinderella’s fairy coach, and the giants of nursery lore; lions such as crouched before Daniel, or in circling Roman amphitheater tore the saints of God; ostriches who recall the sandy deserts; camels such as stood around when the wicked brethren raised Joseph from the well and sold him into bondage; elephants such as crossed the Alps with Hannibal, or felt the sword of the Maccabees; and glorious music that thrills and builds in the chambers of the mind as rose the sunny dome of Kubla Khan.

Another immigrant comes, guided by the same attraction, and settles where there are already two. Then another and another, until around our first comer there are a235 score of neighbors. Labor now has an effectiveness it could not approach in the solitary state. If heavy work is to be done, the settlers have a log-rolling and together do in a day what would take years singly. When one kills a bullock, the others take part of it and return the favor when they kill, so they have fresh meat all the time. Together they hire a schoolmaster, and each family's children are taught for a fraction of what such teaching would have cost the first settler. Sending to the nearest town becomes comparatively easy, because someone is always going. There is also less need for such journeys. A blacksmith and a wheelwright soon set up shops, and our settler can have his tools repaired for a small part of the labor it once cost him. A store opens and he can get what he wants as he wants it. A post-office, soon added, gives him regular communication with the rest of the world. Then come a cobbler, a carpenter, a harness-maker and a doctor, and a little church soon rises. Satisfactions become possible that were impossible in the solitary state. There are gratifications for the social and intellectual nature, the part of the man that rises above the animal. The power of sympathy, the sense of companionship, and the emulation of comparison and contrast open a wider, fuller and more varied life. In rejoicing, there are others to rejoice. In sorrow, the mourners do not mourn alone. There are husking bees, apple parings and quilting parties. The ballroom may be unplastered and the orchestra only a fiddle, but the notes of the magician are still in the strain, and Cupid dances with the dancers. At the wedding there are others to admire and enjoy. In the house of death there are watchers. At the open grave human sympathy stands to sustain the mourners. Now and then a straggling lecturer comes to open glimpses of the world of science, literature or art. At election time,236 stump speakers come. The citizen rises to a sense of dignity and power as the cause of empires is tried before him in the struggle of John Doe and Richard Roe for his support and vote. And by and by comes the circus, talked of for months before. To children whose horizon has been the prairie, it opens all the realms of the imagination: princes and princesses of fairy tale, mail-clad crusaders and turbaned Moors, Cinderella's fairy coach, and the giants of nursery lore. It shows lions like those that crouched before Daniel or tore the saints of God in the circling Roman amphitheater. It shows ostriches that recall the sandy deserts. It shows camels like those that stood around when the wicked brethren raised Joseph from the well and sold him into bondage. It shows elephants like those that crossed the Alps with Hannibal or felt the sword of the Maccabees. And it brings glorious music that thrills and builds in the chambers of the mind as the sunny dome of Kubla Khan rose.

Go to our settler now, and say to him: “You have so many fruit trees which you planted; so much fencing, such a well, a barn, a house—in short, you have by your labor added so much value to this farm. Your land itself is not quite so good. You have been cropping it, and by and by it will need manure. I will give you the full value of all your improvements if you will give it to me, and go again with your family beyond the verge of settlement.” He would laugh at you. His land yields no more wheat or potatoes than before, but it does yield far more of all the necessaries and comforts of life. His labor upon it will bring no heavier crops, and, we will suppose, no more valuable crops, but it will bring far more of all the other things for which men work. The presence of other settlers—the increase of population—has added to the productiveness, in these things, of labor bestowed upon it, and this added productiveness gives it a superiority over land of equal natural quality where there are as yet no settlers. If no land remains to be237 taken up, except such as is as far removed from population as was our settler’s land when he first went upon it, the value or rent of this land will be measured by the whole of this added capability. If, however, as we have supposed, there is a continuous stretch of equal land, over which population is now spreading, it will not be necessary for the new settler to go into the wilderness, as did the first. He will settle just beyond the other settlers, and will get the advantage of proximity to them. The value or rent of our settler’s land will thus depend on the advantage which it has, from being at the center of population, over that on the verge. In the one case, the margin of production will remain as before; in the other, the margin of production will be raised.

Go to our settler now and say to him: “You have so many fruit trees that you planted, so much fencing, such a well, a barn, a house. In short, you have by your labor added so much value to this farm. Your land itself is not quite so good. You have been cropping it, and by and by it will need manure. I will give you the full value of all your improvements if you will give it to me and go again with your family beyond the edge of settlement.” He would laugh at you. His land yields no more wheat or potatoes than before, but it yields far more of all the necessaries and comforts of life. His labor on it will bring no heavier crops and, we may suppose, no more valuable crops, but it will bring far more of all the other things men work for. The presence of other settlers, the increase of population, has added to the productiveness, in these things, of labor spent on it. This added productiveness gives it a superiority over land of equal natural quality where there are as yet no settlers. Suppose no land remains to be237 taken up except land as far from population as our settler's land was when he first went on it. Then the value or rent of this land will be measured by the whole of this added capability. If instead, as we supposed, there is a continuous stretch of equal land over which population is now spreading, the new settler need not go into the wilderness as the first did. He will settle just beyond the other settlers and get the advantage of being near them. Then the value or rent of our settler's land will depend on the advantage it has, at the center of population, over land on the edge. In the first case the margin of production will remain as before. In the second the margin of production will be raised.

Population still continues to increase, and as it increases so do the economies which its increase permits, and which in effect add to the productiveness of the land. Our first settler’s land, being the center of population, the store, the blacksmith’s forge, the wheelwright’s shop, are set up on it, or on its margin, where soon arises a village, which rapidly grows into a town, the center of exchanges for the people of the whole district. With no greater agricultural productiveness than it had at first, this land now begins to develop a productiveness of a higher kind. To labor expended in raising corn, or wheat, or potatoes, it will yield no more of those things than at first; but to labor expended in the subdivided branches of production which require proximity to other producers, and, especially, to labor expended in that final part of production, which consists in distribution, it will yield much larger returns. The wheat-grower may go further on, and find land on which his labor will produce as much wheat, and nearly as much wealth; but the artisan, the manufacturer, the storekeeper, the professional man, find that their labor expended here, at the center of exchanges, will yield them much more than if238 expended even at a little distance away from it; and this excess of productiveness for such purposes the landowner can claim just as he could an excess in its wheat-producing power. And so our settler is able to sell in building lots a few of his acres for prices which it would not bring for wheat-growing if its fertility had been multiplied many times. With the proceeds, he builds himself a fine house, and furnishes it handsomely. That is to say, to reduce the transaction to its lowest terms, the people who wish to use the land build and furnish the house for him, on condition that he will let them avail themselves of the superior productiveness which the increase of population has given the land.

Population keeps increasing, and with it the economies it permits, which in effect add to the productiveness of the land. Our first settler's land is the center of population, so the store, the blacksmith's forge and the wheelwright's shop are set up on it or on its edge. A village soon rises there, which grows rapidly into a town, the center of exchanges for the people of the whole district. With no more agricultural productiveness than it had at first, this land now begins to develop a higher kind of productiveness. For labor spent raising corn, wheat or potatoes it will yield no more of those things than at first. But for labor spent in the subdivided branches of production that require nearness to other producers, and especially for labor spent in the final part of production, which is distribution, it will yield much larger returns. The wheat-grower may go further out and find land where his labor will produce as much wheat and nearly as much wealth. But the artisan, the manufacturer, the storekeeper and the professional man find that their labor spent here, at the center of exchanges, yields much more than if238 spent even a little distance away. The landowner can claim this excess of productiveness for such purposes just as he could claim an excess in wheat-producing power. So our settler can sell a few of his acres as building lots for prices they would not bring for wheat-growing if their fertility had been multiplied many times. With the proceeds he builds himself a fine house and furnishes it handsomely. Reduced to its lowest terms, the transaction is this. The people who want to use the land build and furnish the house for him, on condition that he lets them take advantage of the superior productiveness that increased population has given the land.

Population still keeps on increasing, giving greater and greater utility to the land, and more and more wealth to its owner. The town has grown into a city—a St. Louis, a Chicago or a San Francisco—and still it grows. Production is here carried on upon a great scale, with the best machinery and the most favorable facilities; the division of labor becomes extremely minute, wonderfully multiplying efficiency; exchanges are of such volume and rapidity that they are made with the minimum of friction and loss. Here is the heart, the brain, of the vast social organism that has grown up from the germ of the first settlement; here has developed one of the great ganglions of the human world. Hither run all roads, hither set all currents, through all the vast regions round about. Here, if you have anything to sell, is the market; here, if you have anything to buy, is the largest and the choicest stock. Here intellectual activity is gathered into a focus, and here springs that stimulus which is born of the collision of mind with mind. Here are the great libraries, the storehouses and granaries of knowledge, the learned professors, the famous specialists. Here are museums and art galleries, collections of philosophical apparatus, and all things rare, and valuable,239 and best of their kind. Here come great actors, and orators, and singers, from all over the world. Here, in short, is a center of human life, in all its varied manifestations.

Population keeps increasing, giving the land greater and greater utility and its owner more and more wealth. The town has grown into a city, a St. Louis, a Chicago or a San Francisco, and it still grows. Production here is carried on at a great scale, with the best machinery and the most favorable facilities. The division of labor becomes extremely minute, wonderfully multiplying efficiency. Exchanges are so large and rapid that they are made with the least friction and loss. Here is the heart and brain of the vast social organism that has grown from the germ of the first settlement. Here one of the great ganglions of the human world has developed. Hither run all roads, hither set all currents, through all the vast regions round about. Here, if you have anything to sell, is the market. If you have anything to buy, here is the largest and choicest stock. Intellectual activity is gathered into a focus here, and here springs the stimulus born of the collision of mind with mind. Here are the great libraries, the storehouses and granaries of knowledge, the learned professors and the famous specialists. Here are museums and art galleries, collections of philosophical apparatus, and all things rare, valuable,239 and best of their kind. Great actors, orators and singers come here from all over the world. In short, here is a center of human life in all its varied manifestations.

So enormous are the advantages which this land now offers for the application of labor that instead of one man with a span of horses scratching over acres, you may count in places thousands of workers to the acre, working tier on tier, on floors raised one above the other, five, six, seven and eight stories from the ground, while underneath the surface of the earth engines are throbbing with pulsations that exert the force of thousands of horses.

The advantages this land now offers for the application of labor are so enormous that instead of one man with a span of horses scratching over acres, you may count in places thousands of workers to the acre. They work tier on tier, on floors raised one above another, five, six, seven and eight stories from the ground, while underneath the surface engines throb with the force of thousands of horses.

All these advantages attach to the land; it is on this land and no other that they can be utilized, for here is the center of population—the focus of exchanges, the market place and workshop of the highest forms of industry. The productive powers which density of population has attached to this land are equivalent to the multiplication of its original fertility by the hundred fold and the thousand fold. And rent, which measures the difference between this added productiveness and that of the least productive land in use, has increased accordingly. Our settler, or whoever has succeeded to his right to the land, is now a millionaire. Like another Rip Van Winkle, he may have lain down and slept; still he is rich—not from anything he has done, but from the increase of population. There are lots from which for every foot of frontage the owner may draw more than an average mechanic can earn; there are lots that will sell for more than would suffice to pave them with gold coin. In the principal streets are towering buildings, of granite, marble, iron, and plate glass, finished in the most expensive style, replete with every convenience. Yet they are not worth as much as the land upon which they rest—the same land, in nothing changed, which when our first settler came upon it had no value at all.

All these advantages attach to the land. They can be used on this land and no other, because here is the center of population, the focus of exchanges, the market place and workshop of the highest forms of industry. The productive powers that density of population has attached to this land equal a hundredfold and thousandfold multiplication of its original fertility. Rent measures the difference between this added productiveness and that of the least productive land in use, and it has increased accordingly. Our settler, or whoever has succeeded to his right to the land, is now a millionaire. Like another Rip Van Winkle, he may have lain down and slept, and still he is rich. He owes it not to anything he has done but to the increase of population. There are lots where for every foot of frontage the owner may draw more than an average mechanic can earn. There are lots that will sell for more than it would take to pave them with gold coin. On the principal streets stand towering buildings of granite, marble, iron and plate glass, finished in the most expensive style and full of every convenience. Yet they are not worth as much as the land they rest on, the same land, changed in nothing, which had no value at all when our first settler came upon it.

That this is the way in which the increase of population powerfully acts in increasing rent, whoever, in a progressive country, will look around him, may see for himself. The process is going on under his eyes. The increasing difference in the productiveness of the land in use, which causes an increasing rise in rent, results not so much from the necessities of increased population compelling the resort to inferior land, as from the increased productiveness which increased population gives to the lands already in use. The most valuable lands on the globe, the lands which yield the highest rent, are not lands of surpassing natural fertility, but lands to which a surpassing utility has been given by the increase of population.

Anyone who looks around in a progressive country can see for himself that this is how increase of population powerfully raises rent. The process is going on before his eyes. The land in use differs more and more in productiveness, and this causes rent to rise. That difference comes less from the necessities of increased population forcing a turn to inferior land than from the added productiveness that increased population gives to the lands already in use. The most valuable lands on the globe, the lands that yield the highest rent, are not lands of surpassing natural fertility. They are lands to which increased population has given a surpassing utility.

The increase of productiveness or utility which increase of population gives to certain lands, in the way to which I have been calling attention, attaches, as it were, to the mere quality of extension. The valuable quality of land that has become a center of population is its superficial capacity—it makes no difference whether it is fertile, alluvial soil like that of Philadelphia; rich bottom land like that of New Orleans; a filled-in marsh like that of St. Petersburg, or a sandy waste like the greater part of San Francisco.

The added productiveness or utility that increased population gives to certain lands in the way I have been describing attaches, as it were, to the mere quality of extension. The valuable quality of land that has become a center of population is its superficial capacity. It makes no difference whether it is fertile alluvial soil like that of Philadelphia, rich bottom land like that of New Orleans, a filled-in marsh like that of St. Petersburg, or a sandy waste like most of San Francisco.

And where value seems to arise from superior natural qualities, such as deep water and good anchorage, rich deposits of coal and iron, or heavy timber, observation also shows that these superior qualities are brought out, rendered tangible, by population. The coal and iron fields of Pennsylvania, that to-day are worth enormous sums, were fifty years ago valueless. What is the efficient cause of the difference? Simply the difference in population. The coal and iron beds of Wyoming and Montana, which to-day are valueless, will, in fifty years from now, be worth millions on millions, simply because, in the meantime, population will have greatly increased.

Even where value seems to come from superior natural qualities, such as deep water and good anchorage, rich deposits of coal and iron, or heavy timber, observation shows that population brings out these qualities and makes them tangible. The coal and iron fields of Pennsylvania, worth enormous sums today, were valueless fifty years ago. What is the efficient cause of the difference? Simply the difference in population. The coal and iron beds of Wyoming and Montana, valueless today, will be worth millions on millions in fifty years, simply because population will have greatly increased in the meantime.

It is a well provisioned ship, this on which we sail through space. If the bread and beef above decks seem to grow scarce, we but open a hatch and there is a new supply, of which before we never dreamed. And very great command over the services of others comes to those who as the hatches are opened are permitted to say, “This is mine!”

It is a well provisioned ship, this on which we sail through space. If the bread and beef above decks seem to grow scarce, we need only open a hatch and there is a new supply we never dreamed of. And very great command over the services of others comes to those who, as the hatches are opened, are permitted to say, “This is mine!”

To recapitulate: The effect of increasing population upon the distribution of wealth is to increase rent, and consequently to diminish the proportion of the produce which goes to capital and labor, in two ways: First, By lowering the margin of cultivation. Second, By bringing out in land special capabilities otherwise latent, and by attaching special capabilities to particular lands.

To recapitulate: increasing population raises rent, and so reduces the proportion of the produce that goes to capital and labor, in two ways. First, by lowering the margin of cultivation. Second, by bringing out special capabilities in land that would otherwise lie latent, and by attaching special capabilities to particular lands.

I am disposed to think that the latter mode, to which little attention has been given by political economists, is really the more important. But this, in our inquiry, is not a matter of moment.

I am inclined to think the second way, to which economists have given little attention, is really the more important. But in our inquiry this does not matter much.