"On Social Organisation and its Relationship with the Means of Subsistance of Nations"

[1]

The first need of man is to provide for his subsistence, and he can only do so, as we have previously seen, by means of the spontaneous products of nature, by what he seizes from his fellow beings, [1] or by the [2] products of his industry. [2] The first of these means, which is that of savage people, is not conducive to well-being or to the propagation of the human species because the earth, left to itself, shows no particular preference for man in the things it produces. The second, which belongs to barbarian people, is also unfavorable to him because it keeps men in a constant state of war and corrupts both the individual who oppresses in order to seize and the one who is oppressed and produces. The third is the most suitable for man because it abundantly meets his needs and is the only one that can maintain him in a permanent state of peace while allowing his faculties to develop to their full potential.

At no time is any one of these means exclusively used for man's preservation. The savage builds a hut to shelter himself from the inclemency of the weather; he skins the animal he has killed to cover himself with its hide; he makes a bow and arrows [3] to reach his prey: thus, he exercises a certain type of industry. The barbarian who lives by prey does not make his existence depend solely on the success of his wars: like the savage, he grabs the spontaneous products of nature; he roughly cultivates the land, forcing it to yield what he is not always sure to acquire by force of arms; he also exercises a more or less crude industry since he manufactures his weapons and cultivates his field. Finally, the civilized man employs, in addition to the products of his industry—which constitute its principal foundation—the things that nature provides him freely and those he seizes from his fellow men when, by chance, he finds himself at war with them. At all times, man employs the same means to preserve his existence; what is important to note is that there is always one of these means that provides for his needs in a greater or lesser proportion, depending on the degree to which civilization has advanced.

It is thus the degree of civilization of a people that determines the primary means by which that people must preserve itself; it is the necessity of employing this means and of extending it to its fullest extent that subsequently determines [4] the form of its government and the choice of men whom it is important to incorporate into it. [3]

"When a tribe of savages sets out on a campaign against its enemies," says Robertson, "the warrior whose courage is most proven leads the youth into battle. If they go hunting in a group, the most experienced hunter leads the way and directs their movements. But in times of peace and inactivity, when no opportunity arises to display these talents, all preeminence ceases, and nothing indicates that all members of the community are not equal."

"When the men of a tribe," continues the same author, "are called to combat, whether to invade the territory of their enemies or to repel their attacks; when they are engaged together in the hardships and dangers of hunting, they become aware that they form part of a political body. They feel that they are bound to the men with whom they act, and they follow and revere those who excel among them in wisdom and valor. But during the intervals that separate these common efforts, they seem barely to feel the ties of political union. No visible form of government is established. The names of magistrate and subject are out of use. [5] Each one appears to enjoy almost complete natural independence. If a project of public utility is proposed, the members of the community are free to choose whether or not they will assist in its execution. No service is imposed on them as a duty; no law obliges them to fulfill it."

Although most of our ideas originated in times of barbarism, we will not explore in any detail how savage or barbarian people organize themselves: it suffices that we have pointed out in a general manner that the means these people are capable of employing to procure the necessities of existence determine the form of their social organization and the choice of the men who are to lead them; that the moment they no longer need to put these means into action, all semblance of government disappears among them, and each individual remains free to conduct himself as he sees fit. More in-depth research on this subject would be difficult to undertake and of little use; what is important to observe carefully is the manner in which the people whose ideas or habits have exercised and still exercise some influence [6] over us have organized themselves. It is already evident that we are speaking of the Romans and the Franks, people essentially predatory or warlike.

If the history of the Roman people did not teach us that this nation placed the source of its revenues in the pillage of its neighbors, its social organization alone would suffice to tell us. The people are initially divided into tribes, the tribes into curiae, the curiae into decuries. At the head of these sections, leaders are appointed, taking names corresponding to the sections they command: thus, the tribes are led by tribunes, the curiae by curions, and the decuries by decurions. This general division, which includes women, children, and the elderly, is nevertheless entirely military, and each fraction of the people is commanded by the bravest soldier. [4]

Once this first division is made, a second one follows. The men most distinguished by their experience, fortune, and above all [7] their military talents, are selected and formed into a body called the Senate. To be admitted to this body, one must have held various civil positions, and no one can attain such a position without having served at least ten years as a soldier. The selection of senators is made by the leaders of the armies, the consuls, the military tribunes, or the censors, who themselves have held similar positions. Finally, the Senate is such an essentially military body that when the armies suffer a major defeat, it is among the senators that the greatest losses are observed. [5]

This second division of the people—or, more precisely, of the army—that separates the principal leaders from the subordinate officers and soldiers, is followed by a third. The strongest and wealthiest young men are selected and formed into the cavalry: the men who compose this class take the title of equites (horsemen) and later form the equestrian order, that is, the order of those who fight on horseback. This corps is divided into centuries, each century consisting of one hundred men.

[8]

The lowest class in the nation consists of men who cultivate the countryside and those who practice a trade or engage in commerce within the city. These are the most despised.

In the Roman state, each person thus enjoyed a rank and authority proportional to his military importance. The Senate, composed entirely of generals, managed the public treasury; it determined the salaries of officers, provided for the supply and clothing of the armies, designated the provinces to be assigned to the consuls and praetors, received foreign ambassadors, and appointed the republic’s envoys; it decreed thanksgivings for victories over enemies and awarded ovations or triumphs to victorious generals; it recognized as a king or denounced as enemies any prince it chose; it ruled on disputes between Rome’s allies and subjects; finally, it judged public crimes.

The consuls, who, in their capacity as generals, were, properly speaking, the heads of the republic, conducted troop levies; they provided for the army’s needs; they appointed part of the military officers; they [9] had, outside of Rome, the power of life and death over all their subordinates; they governed the provinces; they summoned to Rome, with Senate authorization, whomever they deemed necessary; they received letters from provincial governors, kings, and nations; they commanded all magistrates of the republic, except for the tribunes of the people; they convened the people, summoned the Senate, and proposed laws; finally, they administered justice to the citizens. [6]

The censors, who were responsible for conducting the census of citizens, assessing their wealth, overseeing matters of public morality, and electing senators, could exclude members they deemed unworthy from the Senate, deprive knights of their horses if their conduct was reprehensible, and strip citizens of all rights except their freedom. However, they themselves were merely former generals who had risen through all military ranks, and the censorship [10] they exercised was naturally in the interest of maintaining the military spirit.

The men who composed the equestrian order, originally just the elite of the Roman cavalry, at first had no other function than serving in the army. Later, however, they were assigned the roles of judges or jurors, and they farmed out the collection of public revenues. Their status as tax farmers granted them such prestige that our language lacks terms to fully translate the titles they were given. Cicero called them: homines amplissimi, honestissimi et ornatissimi, [7] flos equitum romanorum, ornamentum civitatis, firmamentum reipublicae. [8] This respect for those who farmed out tax collection was shared by the officers who accompanied the consuls in the army and who were responsible for collecting tributes levied on the conquered people. Simply having held such an office was sufficient qualification for election to the Senate.

As we see from the above, the Romans, being inclined to make war—that is, pillaging—their primary source of revenue, [11] organized themselves in a way that maximized the effectiveness of this means of survival. The degree of respect and authority granted to each citizen was always proportional to his military capacity. To qualify for a civil office, one had to have served in the army for ten years and thus have been long trained in pillage; [9] to be admitted to the Senate, one had to have at least served as quaestor and learned to collect the tribute levied on the conquered people from a consul; to be elected consul, one had to have demonstrated in a lower rank the ability to defeat nations and enslave them; to receive the honors of a triumph, one had to have defeated and robbed the enemy; and the richer the conquered people or the more abundant the spoils displayed to the public, the greater the general was deemed to be.

The organization of the Roman people not only gave great effectiveness to the means [12] by which they ensured their survival; it also established among citizens such a natural hierarchy that it maintained order as long as it continued to exist. Whenever men can only meet their needs through collective effort, a natural order emerges that places them in mutual dependence and allows each to make the best use of his abilities. If savages, for instance, decide to attack another tribe, they do not randomly select their leader; they choose the one they recognize as the bravest and most experienced, then subordinate themselves accordingly, so that the weakest and least experienced naturally fall to the rear. This hierarchy is more durable the more natural it is, ensuring that everyone occupies the position that corresponds to his own abilities. Those at the bottom ranks should have little cause for complaint because they depend less on their leaders than on their own limitations—a dependence to which even the most unruly men submit without protest. Now, what instinct [13] dictates to savages, the Romans practiced until the fall of their republic. Until then, they always chose as leaders those who were most capable of guiding them.

Some writers, who had not sufficiently considered the relationship between the social organization of this people and the means by which they met their needs, expressed surprise that the disturbances that afflicted Rome never shook its government or led to bloodshed. Unable to explain this phenomenon by natural causes, they attributed it to the wisdom of men of that time. But those men were no wiser than people today; they simply had institutions better suited to their needs and desires. At no time do men revolt against necessity, nor do they seek to escape subordination when it is dictated by the nature of things. The Roman people suffered under the harshness of their leaders, but they would have suffered even more had those leaders disappeared. Can one imagine an army, commanded by its most skilled and capable members, yet dependent on war for its existence, suddenly dismissing all its officers to be ruled by [14] incompetents or unknowns? And was the Roman people, with its consuls, Senate, knights, and even tribunes, anything other than such an army?

But this subordination, established by the necessities of war, had to end as soon as the people, or part of the people, lived in peace, or when a single leader commanded the armies long enough to accustom them to seeing only him as their rightful commander. This is precisely what happened toward the end of the republic and under the emperors. The prolonged command of certain generals, along with the increasingly peaceful habits adopted by most of those in power, eroded all hierarchical relationships. Under the emperors, the Senate became merely a council whose members had no influence, for their existence no longer mattered to the safety or wealth of the citizens.

As long as the Romans had external enemies to rob, their generals and soldiers—brigands to the rest of the world—were, for Rome, true producers. It was only natural that each was assigned a rank according to the [15] wealth he brought to the republic. But as soon as the world was subdued and pacified, the Roman armies became idle and predatory troops, ready to turn against their fellow citizens with the same cruelty they had once shown to foreigners. They robbed their own people just as they had robbed their enemies. At that point, to restore order and freedom, it would have been necessary to dismantle the military spirit, identify the new social relationships that had emerged, and establish a natural hierarchy of subordination. But this was incompatible with Roman prejudices, with the dominance they sought to maintain over all other nations, and perhaps even with the state of those nations themselves.

The feudal government, established in Europe after the invasion of the northern barbarians, was less systematic than that of Rome; unlike Rome’s system, which aimed at the continuous pillaging of all known nations, feudalism merely sought to sustain the victors by means of what the already conquered people were producing.

The Germans could not tolerate life in cities; they viewed them as enclosures [16] trapped by nets. After invading southern Europe, they scattered across the countryside, building fortified castles from which they terrorized the surrounding lands. To escape the incursions of these noble lords—whom Abbé du Bos aptly called "bandits holed up in fortresses"—the inhabitants sought protection among them, agreeing to become their tributaries and to follow them into battle in exchange for security. Each lord thus built a clientele who paid him tribute and assisted in ravaging the lands of non-tributary neighbors. Various other forms of clienteles emerged, contributing to what became known as feudal government. Of all the writers who have discussed the establishment of this system, M. de Montlosier seems to have provided the most natural explanation. We will take from his work the elements most relevant to our subject.

The French nation was formed by three nations: the Gauls, the Romans, and the Germans. Each of these had its own system of clientage.

In Rome, individuals, families, cities, provinces, and even entire nations [17] chose patrons or protectors from the Senate. The patrons' duty was to assist their clients with their wisdom, guide them in their affairs, shield them from injustices, and defend them in court. In return, clients were expected to support their patrons’ enterprises, vote for them in elections, provide dowries for their daughters, and ransom them if they were taken prisoner. These obligations, as we see, were purely civil relationships.

The Gauls had three types of clientage. A weak man placed his land under the protection of a powerful man and committed to paying him tribute in exchange for the protection granted. On the other hand, armed men attached themselves to great lords, remaining by their side in both peace and war. Finally, special confederations formed that constituted true bonds of devotion. The condition of the devoted was to share in all aspects of the life of the friend they had chosen: they enjoyed life’s advantages with him when he was fortunate; they suffered with him in his misfortune, [18] and, having lived together, they were also bound to die with him.

"The nature of these three types of clientage once understood," says M. de Montlosier, "it is important to note that when the Franks established themselves, they neither abolished the Roman civil clientage that had been introduced nor the servile clientage of the Gauls. The military clientage they inherited from their ancestors, which they introduced into society, had to modify social order in many ways. The traces and progress of this transformation can be followed.

"Among the Germans, land could not be given away as among the Gauls; land did not constitute property. In Gaul, where land became property for the Franks, land followed the condition of its masters. Men sought the protection of men; estates sought the protection of estates. Men were recruited; estates armed and recruited themselves. Thus, men and estates found themselves bound to the same duties and services. The old Gallic clientage, in which land was servilely given away, was ennobled [19] by merging with the Germanic clientage, where courage was given instead. Roman civil clientage, in turn, gained a prestige it had previously lacked. [10]

"However, new acts, which seemed somewhat related to the old ones, could cause misunderstandings. [20] It was solemnly declared that such acts would not infringe upon personal freedom. It was stipulated that a free man could now take a patron without dishonor, and could hand over his property without becoming enslaved. These provisions are recorded in the formulas of Marculf and the Capitularies.

"A change in terminology was added to these precautions. The modest term senior, from which we later derived seigneur, replaced patron. The noble term vassus, which became vassal, replaced the degraded term client. Similarly, miles, which originally meant simply soldier, later became chevalier (knight). The legal terms themselves, which had previously been expressed by the word tradere, began to be softened to commendare.

"Precise ceremonial signs were established to consecrate and distinguish these different engagements. A man, accompanied by his warrior retinue if he was a great lord, or by the leading men of his nation if he was a prince, would solemnly place his hand in the hand of the powerful man to whom he was vowing himself. In this case, he was handing over his faith and courage. This type [21] of commendation, the most prestigious of all, is frequently mentioned in charters as having Frankish origins: more Francorum, more francico.

"In other circumstances, a man would present himself holding a clod of earth, a flower, or a tree branch. In this case, he was placing his affairs, his freehold, and all his possessions under the protection of the man to whom he commended himself. This second type of commendation was noble because it was typically linked to vassalage or military service.

"Finally, there was a third type of commendation: those who, after shaving the front of their heads, presented themselves at the court of a powerful lord to offer him their hair. This sign, which symbolized the complete surrender of their person (and property), resulted in what was then called bondage, meaning the loss of freedom: this form of commendation was considered vile. [11] "

The Franks, accustomed to a life of pillaging, [22] continued this noble practice after invading the provinces already conquered by the Romans. The inhabitants, seeking protection from some of them, agreed to pay tribute and to become accomplices in their raids during internal wars. This led to a system of subordination in which working men were subjected to idle and predatory ones, giving the latter the means to exist without producing anything—allowing them to live nobly.

Since the government known as feudal was essentially military, various ranks were established or maintained, granting those who held them titles corresponding to their functions. The governor of a province, who was simultaneously the military commander and the administrator of justice, was called duke, from the Latin dux, meaning leader. The duke’s lieutenants, who assisted him in administering justice and commanded troops in his absence, were called counts, from the Latin comites, meaning companions. The governors of border regions, known as marches, were called marchis, from which we derived marquis. Captains who [23] commanded smaller fortresses, rather than cities governed by counts, were called châtelains (castellans). These various titles were merely administrative positions granted temporarily; those who held them were simply officials, much like our modern military governors, prefects, or sub-prefects. As feudalism progressed, the command of provinces, borders, cities, and fortresses was granted as hereditary property to the titleholders, under the condition of rendering homage and military service to their superior. Eventually, these titles became fully hereditary, and those who bore them became the great vassals of the crown.

Later, lands were elevated into duchies, marquisates, counties, baronies, and castellanies. According to the edicts of Charles IX and Henry III, a duchy had to generate a revenue of eight thousand écus; a marquisate had to consist of three baronies and six united castellanies, held directly from the king under homage; a county had to include two baronies and three castellanies, or one barony and six castellanies. A castellany was required to have high, middle, and low justice, along with other honorary rights or privileges.

[24]

It was natural that the Franks, who were incapable of making a living except by robbing the industrious men [12] they had subdued, would despise those who engaged in industrial enterprises. A man who abandoned the trade of pillaging to become an industrious worker was renouncing barbarism and entering civilization; he was giving up his status as a conqueror and joining the class of the conquered. [13] This was called derogation. Conversely, a man was said to ennoble himself when he left the class of industrious or civilized men to join the class of idle and predatory men—the class of barbarians. [14]

Such a flawed social organization carried within itself the seeds of its own destruction. As soon as those who did not belong to the dominant caste [15] discovered how to create wealth through industry, and as soon as the nobles lost the power to grab that wealth except by exchanging something of equal value, the industrious class—accustomed to order, labor, and frugality—grew steadily, while the nobles, knowing nothing of production and priding themselves on extravagant consumption, quickly fell into decline. Under Louis XIII, the nobility paraded with a retinue of pages, servants, and armed men; but when industry emerged under Louis XIV, all this grandeur vanished. [16]

"I had recently been studying the history and details of the Estates-General of 1614," says M. de Montlosier, "when I saw those of 1789 open. Both featured a noble order. My God, what a difference! What splendor and pomp on one side! On the other, what destitution and decay! In 1614, the vestibules of the nobility were filled with pages, servants, and armed retainers. A mere lord had numerous gentlemen on horseback in his entourage. But in 1789, the greatest lord had no pages, no squires, no gentlemen attendants— [25] not even a single mounted man. The highest noble was escorted only by a miserable lackey, unarmed, ashamed of his master's colors or livery."

[26]

In 1789, the feudal government was thus annihilated in France. There were still [27] dukes, counts, and marquises, but these dukes had no command, these counts were neither companions nor substitutes for anyone, and these marquises had no military or civil power. In short, the feudal hierarchy was destroyed; only the titles remained, along with a few residual dues that had been reduced to very little. The Constituent Assembly, through its decrees, erased these last remnants of a system that the progress of civilization had gradually abolished. The people's need to seek protection from the great lords against their own acts of brigandage had made them tributaries; once that need disappeared, the people freed themselves from paying the tribute.

A nation can no longer base its existence on the subjugation and pillaging of other nations; this way of life is incompatible with the customs of people who have made some progress in civilization. If any nation attempted to adopt it, the attempt could prove fatal. Moreover, the world has boundaries, and if it were possible to subjugate it entirely, one would ultimately have to remain in peace after its conquest. The Roman military government can therefore no longer be applied. In modern times, soldiers consume [28] much and produce nothing, even for the people who employ them; thus, their influence cannot serve to increase a nation's standard of living.

If a nation cannot derive its revenues from pillaging, neither can it do so, at least in a sustainable manner, from the oppression of a class of serfs or tributaries. The working men in most European nations are too enlightened and too strong to be enslaved by a particular caste. The French nobility suffered from its attempt to retain a preeminence that was no longer natural; [17] its example should deter those who might be tempted to imitate it. The feudal hierarchy can no longer be restored or maintained; the idle and predatory class is neither enlightened enough nor strong enough to enslave the industrious class. It can no longer claim to represent the people exclusively.

But if no European nation can place the primary source of its revenues in either the pillaging of other nations or in the [29] labor of a class of tributaries, how then can they provide for their existence? How can they give full force to the means they are obliged to employ? Nations sustain themselves through the labor of each individual on the resources that nature has placed at their disposal. Agricultural industry, manufacturing industry, and commercial industry are thus the principal sources from which they draw the satisfaction of their most pressing needs. Therefore, if one seeks to establish a beneficial and enduring social organization, it must be structured to provide these ways of making a living with the greatest possible efficiency and to protect all related interests. [18]

What must never be lost sight of is [30] that a public official, [19] in his capacity as an official, produces absolutely nothing; he exists solely through the products of the industrious class and consumes only what has been taken from the producers. From this recognized truth follows that a state in which everyone seeks to grab a government job, not to support production by protecting property or ensuring individuals the free and lawful exercise of their faculties, but for other reasons, would be fundamentally flawed. Such a state would quickly fall into poverty, for it is impossible not to become destitute when everyone seeks to consume without producing. The first condition for a nation’s prosperity is therefore to ensure that there is greater profit and more honor in creating wealth oneself than in protecting the wealth produced by others. Public offices must be structured so that a citizen finds greater happiness in being a producer than in being a magistrate, in being protected rather than being a protector.

The man who cultivates his field or works in his workshop is more estimable than the policeman who keeps thieves away from his door, because he is [31] much more necessary. Indeed, one can conceive of a people existing without policemen, but not without farmers and industrious men. What we say of a policeman can be said of a soldier and a general, of a clerk and a prefect, of a customs officer and a government finance official, of a bailiff and a president; in short, of all the men tasked with ensuring the security of those who provide for the needs of all—without whom no nation could exist. [20]

In all European states, however, much more esteem and honor are accorded to men who claim to ensure the security of society’s members than to those whose work provides the means by which society exists. Everywhere, the social status attached to different occupations is almost always in inverse proportion to their usefulness. Some men would consider it degrading to engage in industrial enterprise, yet they believe they elevate themselves greatly by gaining the right [32] to command thirty or forty machines called soldiers, and by becoming themselves similar machines under the orders of another superior. Others would consider themselves dishonored for life if they had to spend two hours a day in a shop or warehouse to make a living, yet they are willing to waste away in an antechamber waiting for a position that will barely support them and may never come. Does anyone believe that this contempt for useful work and this insatiable thirst for military or civil positions stem from a genuine desire to protect industrious men from external or internal threats? Certainly not. No one thinks of this. When people pursue such false ambitions, they are not guided by concern for the public good; they act as if they were slaves still obeying prejudices instilled by former masters, or they seek to live at the expense of the people without worrying about whether their services justify what they receive.

The barbarians who invaded southern Europe, incapable of engaging in any useful labor, saw nothing nobler than pillage and nothing more vile than industrial work. [33] This belief, born from their ignorance and barbaric customs, became a prejudice even among those it degraded. Such is the power of sustained force and habit: they make us accept as undeniable truths the very errors that are most harmful to us. When feudalism was abolished and the descendants of these barbarians could no longer survive by plundering or by levying tribute on the conquered, they retained a monopoly on public offices and imposed a new tribute on the people under the name of "tax," which they shared among themselves.

When the French Revolution broke out, industrial work was still considered degrading—not only by the noble caste but also by the bourgeois class and even by the men engaged in industry themselves. Unproductive jobs were the most sought-after, and France presented the paradoxical spectacle of a people whose needs drove them toward civilization, but whose prejudices constantly pulled them back toward barbarism.

A child whose father had built a fortune through useful labor would hasten to reverse this progress, enlisting in the class of idle [34] and predatory men. If he fell into ruin, his descendants would become monks to avoid derogation. [21] Thus, as under the feudal system, there were two groups in France: a group of rulers and a group of tributaries, or a group of employed by the state and a group of industrious workers who were exploited. After the latter gained the upper hand, they focused only on taking part in this exploitation. Instead of reducing the number of government jobs in such a way that they would be no more than a task undertaken to assist the useful people, they turned them into a profession that everyone had the right to aspire to. The Constitution of 1791, in fact, considered eligibility for public office a natural and civil right. This principle has continued since, and one might say that the French Revolution [35] was essentially a war to determine who would occupy these positions—or, more precisely, whether the nation would be exploited by men of the noble caste or by men from the industrious class. The same causes have produced, or will produce, the same effects in all other nations.

Since it is not by what soldiers or public officials produce that nations exist—since neither group produces anything, but instead live off the products of agriculture, manufacturing, and commerce—the government must be structured in such a way as to give these ways of making a living all the energy they are capable of acquiring. The hordes of savages who organize themselves for hunting expeditions or raids on neighboring lands place themselves under the leadership of the most skillful hunter or the bravest warrior. Barbarian people, who can only survive through pillage or the tributes they impose on the conquered, organize themselves in the same way: they choose as their chief the man they believe most capable of leading them into war, then subordinate themselves to each other in such a way that each has a rank and an [36] importance proportional to his military prowess and to the amount of loot he brings to the community. We, so-called civilized people, are not so wise; we can only exist through agriculture, technical trades, and commerce—in short, through the products of our labor—yet we give preeminence to the very qualities admired by barbarians. We know how to honor only what tends toward pillage or the destruction of our wealth: the warrior and monastic virtues, the spirit of plunder and idleness.

What would have been said of the Romans if, unable to survive except through war, they had chosen industrious and naturally peaceful men as their leaders? If they had formed a senate of farmers, manufacturers, and merchants? If they had exalted the glory of industry and commerce while degrading the military spirit? People would have called them mad or said that they had resolved to starve to death. But what should be said of nations who, having no other ways of making a living than their agricultural or industrial labor, choose generals as their leaders; who continually glorify military habits and give their children only toys, costumes, and books [37] designed to instill a warrior’s spirit or to make them despise useful labor; who abandon their usual occupations to practice marching drills, and who believe themselves highly important when, dressed in a horsehair or bearskin cap and adorned with a false mustache, they have wasted their day in a guardhouse or performing military parades in public squares and streets?

Hunger is not always a bad counselor; if it sometimes drives individuals to commit crimes, it more often forces them to reflect on their past conduct and dismantles prejudices that even the soundest reasoning could not overcome. The poverty that is already afflicting all the people of Europe will instill distrust in the systems they have followed; it will prompt them to examine these systems more carefully and will teach them that if they wish to escape their current distress, they must, like the most ignorant and primitive people, establish a social organization that gives their ways of making a living, that is to say agriculture, the technical arts, and commerce, all the perfection they are capable of attaining. A few years ago, this idea would have been [38] generally rejected because the necessity of putting it into practice was not yet widely felt, and because it would have challenged a multitude of prejudices. Today, it will perhaps offend only those who, by nature, should occupy the lowest ranks in the social order but nevertheless wish to place themselves at the top.

When the Romans sought to select senators, they looked among the men who, through war, had brought the most wealth to the republic. Similarly, modern nations wishing to form a senate must choose its members from among those who most contribute to national wealth; they should select them from among farmers who own the largest and best-cultivated lands, manufacturers who operate the largest and most prosperous workshops, merchants who have the most extensive and well-stocked warehouses, bankers who manage the greatest capital, and, more broadly, from among those who have the most influence on public prosperity. If a lower council is to be chosen—a chamber of representatives, for example—the same rule should apply. Indeed, this rule should govern all government jobs, from senator to justice of the peace or to [39] village mayor. In the social order, the most useless men—those who produce the least or who live only off the labor of others—must be relegated to the lowest ranks, even if they are all barons or marquises.

But what! Will it suffice for a man to present himself with great wealth to have the right to hold the most eminent positions? In a well-constituted state, holding public office is not a right—it is a duty, an obligation; it is about protecting people and property. The question is therefore wrongly framed: instead of asking whether the possession of large estates should be enough to qualify for high public office, we should ask if such possession is a valid indicator of the ability to govern. The answer then becomes clear. One should not be granted public office solely because of the properties one owns, but also because of the qualities and virtues that such ownership implies. A man who cultivates his land well and sets aside part of his income to make it more productive demonstrates that he values agriculture, that he will know how to promote its respect, and that he actively contributes to increasing public wealth. A man who, through his labor, creates wealth and invests it in [40] industrial enterprises proves the same about industry. The same can be said of merchants. Hard work and frugality, moreover, presuppose many other virtues and the absence of the vices born of idleness.

Thus, if a man were to present himself for election to public office and offered as proof of his qualification the wealth he had accumulated—whether through wartime pillage, dishonorable employment, or embezzlement in previous positions—he could rightly be told that his riches, far from being a credential, should be grounds for exclusion. He did not create wealth but merely moved it about, and presenting ill-gotten gains is a poor argument for proving that one will respect and enforce respect for others’ property. Wealth gained through gambling should also be a reason for exclusion rather than a qualification for office, because gambling moves wealth about but does not create it. Moreover, such wealth can never serve as proof of a candidate’s merit, though it almost always testifies against him. Finally, even a man who possesses vast estates [41] but leases them to tenant farmers while living idly in the big cities should not be admitted to office. In this case, the tenant farmer should be preferred over the landowner, for the former is a highly useful man, whereas the latter serves no purpose except perhaps as a courtier.

And virtues! And talents! Will they then be disregarded if they are not accompanied by wealth? God forbid! On the contrary, they should be rewarded with great generosity, but they should not be burdened with any obligations. Now, we have said that public offices should be duties imposed on the men most capable of bearing them. If government jobs could be considered as rewards, those who held them would have the right to exercise them for their own benefit. A nation would thus be surrendering itself to exploitation simply to reward a few men of talent or virtue—better to have none at all.

Besides, what virtues are we talking about? Domestic virtues? But when a citizen possesses such virtues, it is for his wife and children to reward him, not the public. Are we speaking of public virtues? People should [42] only recognize as such those that contribute to their prosperity. When Scipio brought the spoils of Carthage to Rome, the Romans considered him a very virtuous man. The men who enrich modern nations are virtuous in a less disastrous manner: they create wealth rather than seize it. Labor and frugality, respect for the property of others and for oneself—these are the most useful virtues, the ones most worth encouraging. But the first bring their own reward, and the second cannot be rewarded, as they ought to be universal. That leaves only military achievements and scientific discoveries: the former should be rewarded in veterans’ institutions, the latter in academies. [22]

However, all the precautions that could be taken to ensure that public offices are held only by men who contribute most to national prosperity—and who, consequently, have the greatest stake in it—would be useless if, the moment a person obtained a government position, his personal interest outweighed that of the citizenry. Therefore, it must be arranged so that a person values his own qualifications more than the public office he holds; the position must always be beneath the man, so that he can leave it at any moment without diminishing himself. Then, people will not stoop to dishonor to obtain or keep office; they will not become docile instruments of despotism; the people will gain in security and peace, and governments will be rid of the horde of schemers who constantly besiege them, conceal the truth once they attain power, and ultimately bring about their downfall. It is because France followed the opposite system that it has been almost continuously oppressed since the beginning of the revolution. Government positions that should have been secondary and temporary occupations absorbed entire lives, or at least left no time for anything else. People became prefects, councilors, deputies, or senators as a profession; and [44] maintaining this profession became the constant priority, at the expense of the public. If one wishes to achieve the opposite result, the approach must be reversed. The interests of agriculture, the technical arts, and commerce must take precedence over the interest of the government position one occupies. A person who combines the qualities of an industrious man and a government employee must gain more from the first than from the second, and thus devote less time to the latter than to the former. [23]

Government jobs should never be a means of making a fortune; those called to fill them should only receive compensation exactly equal to the value of the time they are required to dedicate to them—and this time should be kept to a minimum. There is no need to fear that making it impossible to amass wealth in government jobs will [45] discourage the men most worthy of being called to it. When one has a great interest in maintaining order and respecting property, one does not voluntarily abandon the management of public affairs to those who might have a contrary interest—especially when one can take on this responsibility oneself without incurring any loss and while earning the gratitude and esteem of one’s fellow citizens.

The only concern might be that men constantly occupied with agriculture, manufacturing, or commerce would lack the knowledge necessary to properly manage public affairs. But what are public affairs, if not private affairs considered on a larger scale? Who would better understand what benefits or harms agriculture, commerce, manufacturing, and public credit than farmers, merchants, manufacturers, and bankers? It is not the so-called ignorant whom we should fear, but rather the false scholars—the men who can see only what is written in books; who never commit a foolish act without justifying it with the authority of Montesquieu, Plato, or Aristotle; and who [46] send us into exile or imprisonment under the authority of the caveant consules [24] decree of the Roman Senate. True scholars are not those who know only opinions or false systems and who are as incapable of understanding the present as they are the past; they are those who see things as they are and who understand how they should be handled. In short, for everything to go well, each person must mind his own business: those who call themselves scholars may write books if they wish, but they should leave the affairs of the state to those who have the greatest stake in them and who exert the greatest influence over its prosperity.

If societies were organized so that each person had an influence and a rank in the state proportionate to their usefulness or absolute value, the benefits to the people would be immeasurable. [25] The obstacles that hinder [47] agriculture, industry, and commerce would disappear, and public prosperity would increase rapidly in every country. Governments would pose a threat only to the idle and the dangerous, while every working person would be assured of finding protection. Imagine, for instance, a chamber of peers or a senate composed of men whose wealth was created by their talents, by extensive agricultural enterprises, or by major commercial undertakings. Would not each member of such a body be, in reality, all that he ought to be, according to the judgment of a famous writer? [26]

"Being conscious of his importance and dignity, his conduct in parliament would be guided solely by the constitutional duty of a senator. He would consider himself [48] personally responsible for safeguarding the laws. Seeking to uphold the just measures of the government, but determined to oversee the actions of the ministry, he would know how to resist the violence of factions as firmly as he would the encroachments of the royal prerogative. He would be as incapable of trafficking in government positions with ministers—whether for himself or others—as he would be of stooping to mingle in the intrigues of the opposition. Whenever he was called upon to express his opinion on an important issue in parliament, he would be heard, even by the most unworthy minister, with deference and respect; his authority alone would suffice to lend credibility or discredit to government measures. The people would look to him as their protector, and the prince would have in his kingdom a man whose integrity and judgment he could trust with certainty. "

If the chamber of deputies or representatives were composed in the same manner, and if men of similar character were found in every administrative or judicial office, it is hard to see how citizens could fail to be [49] protected, or even how they could be oppressed. That mania for governing, which is found even among the lowest classes when they hold a tiny fragment of authority—and which is undoubtedly the most insufferable of all tyrannies, because it is the most humiliating and the most pointless—would give way to more reasonable habits. If esteem and social status were attached only to useful labor, people would not waste their time making others waste theirs with pointless vexations; [27] they would be richer for all the time that is now squandered on futility, and they would not have to pay billions to sustain their government.

We have already pointed out that the independence individuals have gained by seeking their ways of making a living through the exercise of their own faculties has destroyed the intimate bonds that once formed the patriotism of the ancients. We have also stated that this isolation of individuals is one of the main causes of the oppression of people. However, one should not conclude from this observation that there are no longer [50] any bonds between men, or that it is impossible to unite them in a common interest. While the military hierarchy of savage or barbarian people has disappeared, another has emerged which, though less visible, is no less real. As the warriors who once surrounded feudal lords have faded away, industrious men have gathered around them a far greater number of workers. A barbarian who wished to produce wealth for his country needed a certain degree of military skill, along with weapons and a few determined soldiers. A civilized man who wishes to enrich his own country likewise needs a certain degree of industrial skill, some capital, and a large number of diligent workers. All forms of industry, like the industry of war, create a hierarchy among those who participate in them; in all cases, the cooperation of many is necessary to achieve great results. The person with the greatest skill and the largest capital naturally becomes the leader of the others, the one who ensures their livelihood. [28]

[51]

By bringing together in a single council the men who stand at the head of numerous interests and who command the resources of [52] a large number of individuals, we do more than simply give great energy to the ways by which nations make a living; we also eliminate the isolation we previously discussed, along with the weakness that results from it—a weakness that invariably leads to oppression. If all interests were indeed united into a single bundle, it is hard to see how the rights of a useful man could be violated without the shock being felt instantly at the very head of society. In contrast, in the state of isolation in which men currently exist, there is not one among them who cannot be oppressed with impunity, because there is not one who can find a voice somewhere that will speak in his defense.

Finally, if European states were constituted in this way—if only those men who sought wealth as the product of their labor had a deliberative voice in public councils—one of the most disastrous scourges of civilized nations would disappear: standing armies. In every country, soldiers would be treated as monks have already been treated in France; barracks, like monasteries, would be transformed into workshops suitable for industry, and the resources of the [53] people would no longer be wasted to sustain the very men who oppress them.

The princes who ruled over such states would find as much advantage in this arrangement as the people; and the time is not far off when they may need to adopt such an organization to protect themselves from factions and popular uprisings. Governments can only sustain themselves and endure by securing for themselves the forces of power, wealth, and enlightenment—that is, by attaching to their cause those who exert the greatest influence over the masses, who control the largest sums of capital, and who have the clearest vision of what must be done for the people to be satisfied and for the government to have nothing to fear from them. Where, then, can such men be found if not in the classes we have identified? And how can they be bound to the government if they are excluded from all participation in the affairs of state and if they are shown that those least invested in public matters are precisely the ones entrusted with its administration?

To understand how important it is for a government to surround itself with [54] those who contribute most to the creation of national wealth, one only needs to glance at what has happened in France since the beginning of the revolution. The Constituent Assembly, composed of lawyers, priests, writers, and noblemen, needing support against the intrigues of courtiers, was forced to seek it in the opinion of the masses. Once the initial movement had begun, those skilled in manipulating popular passions took turns grabbing power, without the government or the majority of the assemblies being able to reclaim it. The prince [29] was attacked in his palace on August 10; he sought refuge in the Legislative Assembly, and this assembly, which had seemed all-powerful, saw no other means of saving him than by imprisoning him in a fortress. The National Convention then took power; demagogues once again grabbed control of the masses and, after terrifying the majority of the assembly, sent the prince and his family to the scaffold. They did not stop there: they targeted all those they suspected of opposing their plans and sent to their deaths any of their colleagues who displeased them, without the mob even [55] bothering to take notice. Later, the Directory suspected a royalist conspiracy within the assemblies: it ordered the armed forces to grab the suspect deputies and had them deported without encountering any resistance. Bonaparte, a mere general, arrived from Egypt, demanded accountability from the representatives of the people for their actions, drove them from their chambers, and took control of the government. The assemblies then took a new direction; until that moment, they had been instruments of demagoguery, but from then on, they became instruments of military despotism, granting Bonaparte everything he demanded. When he was defeated by the armies of the coalition, the same assemblies declared his abdication and proclaimed the Bourbons. Bonaparte returned; the deputies and peers who had deposed him after supporting him for so long called for resistance, but no one heeded their voices: the government was once again overthrown. How can one fail to recognize, after so many events, that power did not reside in the men who had been chosen, and that a different system must be followed if the government is to endure?

When the feudal hierarchy was abolished and [56] the need to reconstruct the government was felt, it was necessary to identify the natural intermediaries between the government and the rural inhabitants, and between the government and the workers and artisans who made up the population of the great cities. Had such an inquiry been made, they would not have called upon assemblies composed of men of letters, lawyers, doctors, and priests—people who, though undoubtedly useful, are those whom the people dispense with whenever possible and whose disappearance is met with little regret. If the assemblies had been composed differently—if they had included only wealthy landowners, significant manufacturers, and bankers or merchants with extensive connections—Jacobinism would have played a much smaller role, and it would not have spread across all of France. The insurrection of August 10 would not have been so easily carried out; the workers of the suburbs would not have come to issue orders to the National Convention; Robespierre, even if he had managed to gain some power, would have thought twice before sending his colleagues to the scaffold; the Directory would not have deported a portion of the people’s representatives; Bonaparte, a deserter, would not have dared to demand accountability from the national assemblies for their [57] conduct and expel them from their chambers; nor would he, aided by a weak Senate and a powerless legislative body, have oppressed France and ravaged much of Europe. Finally, in 1815, he would not have dared to set foot on French soil, for the fears that drove part of the population to support him would not have existed, and the rhetoric with which he seduced so many ignorant people would have seemed absurd.

It has been said that a monarchy cannot survive without an intermediary class between the prince and the people. This observation is correct, but it is a mistake to apply it exclusively to monarchical government. In every society, men are subordinated to one another, far more by their needs than by institutions. Everywhere, the weak seek the protection of the strong, the timid seek the protection of the brave, the inexperienced seek the wisdom of the learned, and the poor seek the assistance of the rich. As long as the laws do not disturb the natural subordination that arises from the very nature of men and things, order is maintained effortlessly. But if an attempt is made to replace this natural subordination with one imposed by force—if a warlike people [58] are placed under the rule of peaceful and working men; if an industrious people are subjected to soldiers or to those who despise labor; if philosophers are ruled by priests, or priests by philosophers—everything falls into disorder, or tranquility is maintained only through violence. The real challenge, then, is to identify the men who, given the current state of civilization, are naturally called upon to lead others. If a nation is forced to rely on pillage as its way of making a living, a military aristocracy naturally forms, and its senate becomes an assembly of generals. If a nation can only exist through a class of tributaries, then those who control the largest number of serfs must form the aristocracy, and its senate must be composed solely of feudal lords. Finally, if a nation can exist only through agriculture, manufacturing, and commerce, it must recognize only an aristocracy of landowners, manufacturers, and merchants.

In France, we have made extraordinary blunders in this regard. Convinced that an intermediary class was necessary, we imagined that we could create one ourselves. We randomly selected a few individuals [59] who had almost no connection with the general population—doctors, lawyers, men of letters, mathematicians, soldiers—provided them with large pensions paid by the state, and then declared, "Here is an aristocracy." What we should have said was, "Here are state-funded pensioners." That was, in fact, the only distinguishing characteristic they possessed, the only one they valued, and the only one for which they sacrificed everything else. A senate composed of state pensioners can only ever be an instrument in the hands of the one who pays them—serving despotism under a tyrant and demagoguery under a democratic government. It matters little to the people whether the members of such a senate are oppressed or not; they know full well that even if every single one of them were removed, there would always be others to take their place under the same conditions. An assembly of state pensioners is as powerless to protect the people as it is to support the prince; it is not to them that anyone is subordinated—rather, they themselves are subordinated to those who pay them. No one feels invested in their defense if they are attacked; no one obeys their commands if they try to support the government. In [60] short, there exists no natural bond between them and the people: they command neither men nor wealth.

The apparent goal in appointing senators with only moderate fortunes and guaranteeing them an annual salary was, on the one hand, to bring the most enlightened men into the senate, and on the other, to ensure their independence. The first objective was not achieved, for scholars and intellectuals are generally the least suited to govern well, as their ideas and interests are oriented toward a kind of speculation unrelated to the affairs of the state. The second objective was even less successful than the first, for a man’s wealth is not determined by a fixed sum but by the relationship between his income and his needs. Moreover, a political body charged with keeping both the people in check and the government within its constitutional limits requires not only independence but also strength—and where could such strength be found in men who command neither wealth nor subordinates?

When a government lacks the support of a powerful aristocracy enriched by wealth and numerous dependents, it must seek security in military force and enforce submission through fear—submission that should instead result from natural subordination. To sustain a military force, it must take away the most useful men from industry and then seize from it a large portion of its products to feed those same men it has conscripted. Thus, it instills fear in the citizens, reduces national production, and increases consumption—all to maintain a system that keeps both the people and the government in a state of continual weakness and fear.

Here, one might raise the question of whether it is in the public interest for certain functions within the state to be inherited from father to son. [30]

[62]

This question comes down to whether the qualities necessary for holding public office can be transmitted from father to son through heredity. Clearly, not only can they not be transmitted in this way, but they often fade even before the person who possesses them ceases to exist. To maintain an aristocracy that is not merely nominal—one that can always lend strength to the government and thereby protect the people from oppression—the laws must continually bring back into its ranks the elements that constitute it and tend to stray from it, while repelling the elements that could destroy it. This is the only way the Romans preserved a military aristocracy in their senate from the beginning to the end of the republic. The senators who formed this aristocracy were appointed for life, but every five years, the censors reviewed the senate, expelling or admitting men whom they deemed incapable or worthy of being part of it. The feudal aristocracy disappeared precisely because it could not renew itself in this way. The qualities necessary to form an aristocracy of landowners, [63] manufacturers, merchants, or bankers are perhaps even less stable than those required for a military aristocracy. To make such an aristocracy permanent, it must therefore not be hereditary, and methods similar to those used by the Romans to preserve theirs must be employed.

Elsewhere, [31] when discussing the Chamber of Peers, we stated that it would be beneficial for the functions of the peerage to be hereditary, passing from father to son. We now believe this was an error, as we lacked a complete understanding of what an aristocracy should be. Two reasons had led us to adopt this opinion: the need to ensure the independence of the peerage, and the necessity of fostering an esprit de corps within it to prevent revolutions. We thought its independence and esprit de corps would be secured if each member was required to possess a certain amount of inalienable real estate and if the authority of the peerage was transmitted from father to son, along with the lands attached to it.

[64]

These reasons now seem unconvincing. What makes an aristocracy necessary [32] is not so much its independence as the power it holds. Epictetus and Philoxenus were independent men by nature, but could either of them resist the tyranny of Nero or Dionysius and oppose the fury of the mob in Rome or Syracuse? The precaution of ensuring that peers or senators receive a fixed income would be futile if no limit could be placed on their needs. A man who has an income of thirty thousand francs but whose desires lead him to spend fifty thousand is far more dependent on the government than one who possesses only a tenth of that income but requires no more. Moreover, it is income, not land, that constitutes wealth. Preventing the alienation of property means nothing if the anticipation of future income is not also prevented. To maintain a permanently [65] wealthy hereditary senate, every member would have to be placed under financial guardianship. An esprit de corps would be more harmful than beneficial unless it served to strengthen the government, protect citizens from arbitrary rule, and promote, as much as possible, the means a people must employ to sustain their existence. However, it is unclear how making the senatorial office hereditary would contribute to any of these objectives.

After outlining what the social organization of modern nations should be, it remains to examine what means we can use to encourage the men best suited to promote national prosperity to take up government jobs. However, such an inquiry would take us too far, and we will reserve it for another article.

In these final considerations on social organization, we have not taken into account the titles or names that remain from feudalism. This is because these titles and names are irrelevant to the issue. To exclude a man from participation in public affairs today simply because his ancestors belonged to an order that no longer exists would be an absurdity worthy of 1793. To call him into public affairs [66] for that reason alone would be no less foolish. The essential point is to consider what men are in the present time, when they are to be employed. If choices must be made, attention should be given to those who, having no fortune to acquire, have a reputation to uphold.

Endnotes

[1] Comte uses several words to describe the violent taking or "seizing" of the property of others, in contrast to the peaceful production and voluntary exchange which lay at the heart of his and Dunoyer's theory of "industrialism." Here he uses the word "ravir" (to seize). Other terms he uses throughout this essay are "la rapine" (pillage or plunder, which we will translate as "plunder"), "le tribut" (forcing people to pay tribute or taxes), "le pillage" (pillage also the verb "piller"), dépouiller" (to rob), and "s'emparer" (to grab or seize). In this translation we will try to keep separate these different word usages in order to show the variety of ways he used to describe this behaviour. Interestingly, he does not use the word "la spoliation" (plunder) or "spolier" (to plunder) which is the preferred terms used by his followers Frédéric Bastiat and Gustave de Molinari.

[2] (Note by Comte) Man's industry does not create things; but it creates almost all their value. (See vol. 1, pages 186 and 187).

[3] (Note by Comte) History of America, book 4.

[4] (Note by Comte) According to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rome had tribunes from its very origin; however, it was not until the 260th year after the city's founding that the tribunes of the people were created. The ranks of centurion, curion, and decurion were always military ranks, both under the emperors and during the time of the republic.

[5] (Note by Comte) Livy, book 23, section 23.

[6] (Note by Comte) When war kept the consuls away from Rome for too long for them to administer justice, praetors were appointed in their place.

[7] (Note by Comte) Pro lege Manilia, 7.

[8] (Note by Comte) Pro Plancio, 9.

[9] (Note by Comte) The Romans, when seizing the wealth of conquered people, carried out their plunder with the same order and method that wealthy landowners apply to their harvests or that wealthy merchants use in their trade.

[10] (Note by Comte) Among the customs of savages or barbarians, plunder and pillage were the only honorable ways to live, so it was natural that the civil clienteles of the Gauls or Romans were ennobled by merging with the clientele of the Franks. Here is what this consisted of, as explained by M. de Montlosier himself, citing a passage from Tacitus: "Among the great men, it is a matter of pride to have the largest number of companions. It is an honor in peacetime and a support in war. Defending their prince, protecting him, and sharing in his feats are the duty of every companion. The prince fights for victory; the companion fights for the prince. A warhorse, blood-stained and victorious weapons—these are the rewards; lavish and coarse feasts are their wages. War and pillaging provide for their generosity." (De la Monarchie française, vol. 1, p. 34).

In the feudal system, a soldier, a man who lived by brigandage, and a nobleman were always synonymous. Thus, one sees what it meant to be ennobled, and how Bonaparte was bound to create a nobility.

[11] (Note by Comte) De la Monarchie française, from its establishment to the present day, by Count de Montlosier, vol. 1, p. 35.

[12] The term "les hommes industrieux" (industrious men) has a special meaning for Comte and Dunoyer as it was part of their theory of "industrialism" which they developed in the late 1810s and 1820s in several works. See my PhD dissertation on "Class Analysis, Slavery and the Industrialist Theory of History in French Liberal Thought, 1814-1830: The Radical Liberalism of Charles Comte and Charles Dunoyer" (King's College Cambridge, 1994).

[13] An important theorist of the "conquest theory" of the origin of the state and the class exploitation that it makes possible is Augustin Thierry, who was a sometime contributor to Comte's and Dunoyer's journal Le Censeur européen. See for example, “T” [thierry??], “Des factions” CE T.3 (9 Mai, 1817), pp. 1-8.

[14] (Note by Comte) Children born to a man who had derogated by practicing an industry did not inherit the nobility of their ancestors; but those of a man who had derogated only by committing crimes were noble like their forebears.

[15] Here Comte uses the term "la caste" (caste) as in "la caste dominante" (the dominant or ruling caste) or "la caste nobiliaire" (the noble caste). Elsewhere in this essay he uses the term "la classe" (some 20 times). The classical liberal theory of class which he and Dunoyer developed is an important but neglected aspect of the development of classical liberal ideas in the first half of the 19th century. See my chapter on "Class" The Routledge Companion to Libertarianism. Edited by Matt Zwolinski and Benjamin Ferguson (Routledge, 2022) , pp. 291-307. In essence he distingues between three rivalrous and antagonistic classes; one which is "industrious", productive, useful, and which creates wealth by means of peaceful and voluntary market activities, which he terms "la classe industrieuse" (the industrious class); one which is parasitic on the wealth created by the industrious class and which uses coercion to rob, steal and plunder to acquire wealth, which he terms "la classe oisive et dévorante" (the idle and predatory class); and finally the different groups who are exploited by the plundering class, which he calls "la classe des vaincus" (the conquered class), "la classe de serfs" (the class of serfs), and "la classe de tributaires" (the class of tributaries)

[16] (Note by Comte) De la Monarchie française, book 3, section 11, vol. 1, p. 297. Next to the account of the decline of the nobility, one could place the account of the progress of the industrious part of the nation. "If one compares the industrious men of 1614 with those of 1789, great God, what a difference! What poverty and abasement on one side—on the other, what wealth and splendor! There, one finds only a few poor artisans struggling to earn a living; the richest manufacturer is despised and commands only a small number of miserable workers, all ashamed of their profession. Here, the simplest manufacturer owns prosperous workshops and enjoys public esteem; entire cities grow, shipyards emerge, the seas fill with vessels, the ports receive riches from both worlds; the countryside is better cultivated and more populated, as farmers find opportunities to exchange their produce for the goods created by industry or brought by commerce. A new people—more industrious, richer, more powerful, more enlightened, and happier than the old—rises on the ruins of the feudal system. All this should certainly console us for the loss of pages, valets, liveried servants, and the ruin of a few miserable noble estates." What has happened in France will inevitably happen in all countries under feudal rule; the lords of these countries have no other way to avoid their ruin than to abandon the idle life of savages or barbarians and rise to the dignity of working men.

[17] (Note by Comte) It is against the nature of things for the weak to command the strong, for the poor to take precedence over the rich, for the learned to obey the ignorant, etc.

[18] (Note by Comte) Men do not only have physical needs to satisfy; they also have moral pleasures to fulfill, and these are undeniably the sweetest, purest, and most enduring. But although they hold the highest place in what constitutes human happiness, they are only secondary in what sustains human existence. Furthermore, one will see that the work most suited to meeting the physical needs of all men is also the most suited to providing them with moral enjoyment.

[19] "Un fonctionnaire public" (a government official or functionary). It should noted that Bastiat developed as part of his theory of plunder the stage of "fonctionnairisme" or rule by functionaries of the state who, in a most Public Choice fashion, pursued their own selfish interests.

[20] (Note by Comte) It is understood that one should keep a sense of proportion here and that a public official, in a given circumstance, may ("peut être") be more useful to national prosperity than a man directly engaged in production.

[21] (Note by Comte) The professions of medicine, law, and literature, not having been subject to paying tribute to the feudal lords, did not suffer the degradation imposed on all others. Moreover, since these professions do not create anything that can be plundered and since their practitioners appear to live without producing anything, they bring their members closer to the nobility. This is why many people still push their children into careers that offer no material security but allow them to live nobly.

[22] (Note by Comte) Article 5 of the Declaration of Rights, issued in 1793, stated: "Free people recognize no other basis for preference in elections than virtue and talent." One knows what the virtuous men of that era brought upon France. When Bonaparte established his nobility, he claimed he wanted to create great rewards for great services; this was merely the signal for the devastation of Europe.

[23] (Note by Comte) In France, where everyone has the mania of wanting to govern or be governed, people will find this incomprehensible. They will struggle to imagine that in America, for example, the President of the United States leaves government to attend to his harvest, that the President of the Senate stays in a rented room during Congress, that he returns to his business when the session ends, and that one is in public office only temporarily—whereas one is an industrious man in every moment of one's life.

[24] "Let the Consuls beware."

[25] (Note by Comte) A man has only relative utility when he benefits one person, one family, or one people at the expense of another person, another family, or another people. Conquerors, despots, and highway robbers all have relative utility—some to their soldiers, others to their enforcers, others to their accomplices; they provide for some by taking from others. A man has absolute utility when the good he does in one place is not counterbalanced by the harm he does elsewhere. Only when men of mere relative utility are universally regarded as brigands will the world be truly civilized.

[26] (Note by Comte) Letters of Junius, letter 23.

[27] (Note by Comte) To understand this, one must have been part of the so-called National Guard of Paris.

[28] (Note by Comte) This difference in the way wealth is obtained has led to significant changes in the customs of nations. Those who live by pillage or plunder require qualities that would be useless to those who earn their living through productive labor. The former need great military courage; the latter require patience and foresight. The one must always be ready to sacrifice his life for the survival of his fellow citizens; the other has no need for such devotion—he enriches his country at a lower cost and without making enemies for it. A warrior leader is highly valuable to those who depend on him because their survival is directly tied to his. In contrast, the leader of a group of industrious men is less essential to them, for he may die without his workshops suffering as a result. Consequently, the latter commands less personal loyalty than the former. Finally, men who live by predation, never being certain of securing their next conquest, must accustom themselves to the harshest privations; whereas those who live by labor, where production is steady and predictable, are not subject to such deprivations. It is the failure to recognize the cause of these differences that has led to so much misguided theorizing about forms of government. Some have claimed that one system requires virtue while another does not, that one must be based on prejudice, another on fear, and a thousand other absurdities that continue to be repeated to this day.

[29] The "prince" of course was King Louis XVI who was driven from the Tuileries Palace on 10 August, 1789.

[30] (Note by Comte) This question does not apply to monarchy. We examined the issue of royal succession in Le Censeur, vol. 5, p. 24 and following.

[31] (Note by Comte) Le Censeur, vol. 5, p. 11.

[32] (Note by Comte) By the word aristocracy, we mean only the subordination established among men by their mutual needs. This aristocracy is natural, as it derives from human nature itself.