After two centuries, Adam Smith
remains a towering figure in the history of economic thought. Known primarily
for a single work, An Inquiry into the nature an causes of the Wealth of
Nations (1776), the first comprehensive system of political economy, Smith is
more properly regarded as a social philosopher whose economic writings
constitute only the capstone to an overarching view of political and social
evolution. If his masterwork is viewed in relation to his earlier lectures on
moral philosophy and government, as well as to allusions in The Theory of Moral
Sentiments (1759) to a work he hoped to write on “the general principles of law
and government, and of the different revolutions they have undergone in the
different ages and periods of society”, then The Wealth of Nations may be seen
not merely as a treatise on economics but as a partial exposition of a much
larger scheme of historical evolution.
Early Life
Unfortunately, much is known about
Smith’s thought than about his life. Though the exact date of his birth is
unknown, he was baptised on June 5, 1723, in Kikcaldy, a small (population
1,500) but thriving fishing village near Edinburgh, the son by second marriage
of Adam Smith, comptroller of customs at Kikcaldy, and Margaret Douglas,
daughter of a substantial landowner. Of Smith’s childhood nothing is known
other than that he received his elementary schooling in Kirkcaldy and that at
the age of four years he was said to have been carried off by gypsies. Pursuits
was mounted, and young Adam was abandoned by his captors. “He would have made,
I fear, a poor gypsy”, commented his principal biographer.
At the age of 14, in 1737, Smith
entered the university of Glasgow, already remarkable as a centre of what was
to become known as the Scottish Enlightenment. There, he was deeply influenced
by Francis Hutcheson, a famous professor of moral philosophy from whose
economic and philosophical views he was later to diverge but whose magnetic
character seems to have been a main shaping force in Smith’s development.
Graduating in 1740, Smith won a scholarship (the Snell Exhibition) and
travelled on horseback to Oxford, where he stayed at Balliol College. Compared
to the stimulating atmosphere of Glasgow, Oxford was an educational desert. His
years there were spent largely in self-education, from which Smith obtained a
firm grasp of both classical and contemporary philosophy.
Returning to his home after an
absence of six years, Smith cast about for suitable employment. The connections
of his mother’s family, together with the support of the jurist and philosopher
Lord Henry Kames, resulted in an opportunity to give a series of public lectures
in Edinburgh - a form of education then much in vogue in the prevailing spirit
of “ improvement”.
The lectures, which ranged over a
wide variety of subjects from rhetoric history and economics, made a deep
impression on some of Smith’s notable contemporaries. They also had a marked
influence on Smith’s own career, for in 1751, at the age of 27, he was
appointed professor of logic at Glasgow, from which post he transferred in 1752
to the more remunerative professorship of moral philosophy, a subject that embraced
the related fields of natural theology, ethics, jurisprudence, and political
economy.
Glasgow
Smith then entered upon a period of
extraordinary creativity, combined with a social and intellectual life that he
afterward described as “ by far the happiest, and most honourable period of my
life”. During the week he lectured daily from 7:30 to 8:30 am and again thrice
weekly from 11 am to noon, to classes of up to 90 students, aged 14 and 16.
(Although his lectures were presented in English, following the precedent of
Hutcheson, rather than in Latin, the level of sophistication for so young an
audience today strikes one as extraordinarily demanding.) Afternoons were
occupied with university affairs in which Smith played an active role, being
elected dean of faculty in 1758; his evenings were spent in the stimulating
company of Glasgow society.
Among his circle of acquaintances
were not only remembers of the aristocracy, many connected with the government,
but also a range of intellectual and scientific figures that included Joseph
Black, a pioneer in the field of chemistry, James Watt, later of steam-engine
fame, Robert Foulis, a distinguished printer and publisher and subsequent
founder of the first British Academy of Design, and not least, the philosopher
David Hume, a lifelong friend whom Smith had met in Edinburgh. Smith was also
introduced during these years to the company of the great merchants who were
carrying on the colonial trade that had opened to Scotland following its union
with England in 1707. One of them, Andrew Cochrane, had been a provost of
Glasgow and had founded the famous Political Economy Club. From Cochrane and
his fellow merchants Smith undoubtedly acquired the detailed information
concerning trade and business that was to give such a sense of the real world
to The Wealth of Nations.
The Theory of Moral
Sentiments
In 1759 Smith Published his first
work, The Theory of Moral Sentiments. Didactic, exhortative, and analytic by
turns, The Theory lays the psychological foundation on which The Wealth of
Nations was later to be built. In it Smith described the principles of “human
nature “, which, together with Hume and the other leading philosophers of his
time, he took as a universal and unchanging datum from which social
institutions, as well as social behaviour, could be deduced.
One question in particular
interested Smith in The Theory of Moral Sentiments. This was a problem that had
attracted Smith’s teacher Hutcheson and a number of Scottish philosophers
before him. The question was the source of the ability to form moral
judgements, including judgements on one’s own behaviour, in the face of the
seemingly overriding passions for self-preservation and self-interest. Smith’s
answer, at considerable length, is the presence within each of us of an “inner
man” who plays the role of the “impartial spectator”, approving or condemning
our own and others’ actions with a voice impossible to disregard. (The theory
may sound less naive if the question is reformulated to ask how instinctual
drives are socialized through the superego.)
The thesis of the impartial
spectator, however, conceals a more important aspect of the book. Smith saw
humans as created by their ability to reason and - no less important - by their
capacity for sympathy. This duality serves both to pit individuals against one
another and to provide them with the rational and moral faculties to create
institutions by which the internecine struggle can be mitigated and even turned
to the common good. He wrote in his Moral Sentiments the famous observation
that he was to repeat later in The Wealth of Nations: that self-seeking men are
often “led by an invisible hand... without knowing it , without intending it,
to advance the interest of the society.”
It should be noted that scholars
have long debated whether Moral Sentiments complemented or was in conflict with
The Wealth of Nations, which followed it. At one level there is a seeming clash
between the theme of social morality contained in the first and largely amoral
explanation of the manner in which individuals are socialized to become the
market-oriented and class-bound actors that set the economic system into
motion.
Travels on the
Continent
The Theory quickly brought Smith
wide esteem and in particular attracted the attention of Charles Townshend,
himself something of an amateur economist, a considerable wit, and somewhat
less of a statesman, whose fate it was to be the chancellor of the exchequer
responsible for the measures of taxation that ultimately provoked the American
Revolution. Townshend had recently married and was searching for a tutor for
his stepson and ward, the young Duke of Buccleuch. Influenced by the strong
recommendations of Hume and his own admiration for The Theory of Moral
Sentiments, he Approached Smith to take the Charge.
The terms of employment were
lucrative (an annual salary of £300 plus travelling expenses and a
pension of £300 a year after), considerably more than Smith had earned as
a professor. Accordingly, Smith resigned his Glasgow post in 1763 and set off for
France the next year as the tutor of the young duke. They stayed mainly in
Toulouse, where Smith began working on a book (eventually to be The Wealth of
Nations) as an antidote to the excruciating boredom of the provinces. After 18
months of ennui he was rewarded with a two-month sojourn in Geneva, where he
met Voltaire, for whom he had the profoundest respect, thence to Paris where
Hume, then secretary to the British embassy, introduced Smith to the great
literary salons of the French Enlightenment. There he met a group of social
reformers and theorists headed by Francois Quesnay, who are known in history as
the physiocrats. There is some controversy as to the precise degree of
influence the physiocrats exerted on Smith, but it is known that he thought sufficiently
well of Quesnay to have considered dedicating The Wealth of Nations to him, had
not the French economist died before publication.
The stay in Paris was cut short by a
shocking event. The younger brother of the Duke of Buccleuch , who had joined
them in Toulouse, took ill and perished despite Smith’s frantic ministration.
Smith and his charge immediately returned to London. Smith worked in London
until the spring of 1767 with Lord Townshend, a period during which he was
elected a fellow of the Royal Society and broadened still further his
intellectual circle to include Edmund Burke, Samuel Johnson, Edward Gibbon, and
perhaps Benjamin Franklin. Late that year he returned to Kirkcaldy, where the
next six years were spent dictating and reworking The Wealth of Nations,
followed by another stay of three years in London, where the work was finally
completed and published in 1776.
The Wealth of
Nations
Despite its renown as the first
great work in political economy. The Wealth of Nations is in fact a continuation
of the philosophical theme begun in The Theory of Moral Sentiments. The
ultimate problem to which Smith addresses himself is how the inner struggle
between the passions and the “impartial spectator’ - explicated in Moral
Sentiments in terms of the single individual - works its effects in the larger
arena of history itself, both in the long-run evolution of society and in terms
of the immediate characteristics of the stage of history typical of Smith’s own
day.
The answer to this problem enters in
Book 5, in which Smith outlines he four main stages of organization through
which society is impelled, unless blocked by deficiencies of resources, wars,
or bad policies of government: the original “rude’ state of hunters, a second
stage of nomadic agriculture, a third stage of feudal or manorial “farming”,
and a fourth and final stage of commercial interdependence.
It should be noted that each of
these stages is accompanied by institutions suited to its needs. For example,
in the age of the huntsman, “there is scar any established magistrate or any
regular administration of justice. “ With the advent of flocks there emerges a
more complex form of social organization, comprising not only “formidable”
armies but the central institution of private property with its indispensable
buttress of law and order as well. It is the very essence of Smith’s thought
that he recognized this institution, whose social usefulness he never doubted,
as an instrument for the protection of privilege, rather than one to be justified
in terms of natural law: “Civil government,” he wrote, “so far as it is
instituted for the security of property, is in reality instituted for the
defence of the rich against the poor, or of those who have some property
against those who have none at all.” Finally, Smith describes the evolution
through feudalism into a stage of society requiring new institutions such as
market-determined rather than guild-determined wages and free rather than
government-constrained enterprise. This later became known as laissez-faire
capitalism; Smith called it the system of perfect liberty.
There is an obvious resemblance
between this succession of changes in the material basis of production, each
bringing its requisite alterations in the superstructure of laws and civil institutions,
and the Marxian conception of history. Though the resemblance is indeed
remarkable, there is also a crucial difference: in the Marxian scheme the
engine of evolution is ultimately the struggle between contending classes,
whereas in Smith’s philosophical history the primal moving agency is “human
nature “driven by the desire for self-betterment and guided (or misguided) by
the faculties of reason.
Society and “the
invisible hand”
The theory of historical evolution,
although it is perhaps the binding conception of The Wealth of Nations, is
subordinated within the work itself to a detailed description of how the
“invisible hand” actually operates within the commercial, or final, stage of
society. This becomes the focus of Books I and II. In which Smith undertakes to
elucidate two questions. The first is how a system of perfect liberty,
operating under the drives and constraints of human nature and intelligently
designed institutions , will give rise to an orderly society. The question,
which had already been considerably elucidated by earlier writers, required
both an explanation of the underlying orderliness in the pricing of individual
commodities and an explanation of the “laws” that regulated the division of the
entire “wealth” of the nation (which Smith saw as its annual production of
goods and services) among the three great claimant classes - labourers,
landlords, and manufacturers.
This orderliness, as would be
expected, was produced by the interaction of the two aspects of human nature,
its response to its passions and its susceptibility to reason and sympathy. But
whereas The Theory of Moral Sentiments had relied mainly on the presence of the
“inner man” to provide the necessary restraints to private action, in The
Wealth of Nations one finds an institutional mechanism that acts to reconcile
the disruptive possibilities inherent in a blind obedience to the passions
alone. This protective mechanism is competition, an arrangement by which the
passionate desire for bettering one’s condition - a “desire that comes with
United States from the womb, and never leaves United States until we go into
the grave “ - is turned into a socially beneficial agency by pitting one
person’s drive for self-betterment against another’s.
It is in the unintended outcome of
this competitive struggle for self-betterment that the invisible hand
regulating the economy shows itself, for Smith explains how mutual vying forces
the prices of commodities down to their natural levels, which correspond to
their costs of production. Moreover, by inducing labour and capital to move
from less to more profitable occupations or areas, the competitive mechanism
constantly restores prices to these “natural” levels despite short-run
aberrations. Finally, by explaining that wages and rents and profits (the
constituent parts of the costs of production) are themselves subject to this
natural prices but also revealed an underlying orderliness in the distribution
of income itself among workers, whose recompense was their wages; landlords,
whose income was their rents; and manufacturers, whose reward was their profit.
Economic growth
Smith’s analysis of the market as a
self- correcting mechanism was impressive. But his purpose was more ambitious
than to demonstrate the self-adjusting properties of the system. Rather, it was
to show that, under the impetus of the acquisitive drive, the annual flow of
national wealth could be seen steadily to grow.
Smith’s explanation of economic
growth , although not neatly assembled in one part of The Wealth of Nations, is
quite clear. The score of it lies in his emphasis on the division of labour
(itself an outgrowth of the “natural” propensity to trade) as the source of
society’s capacity to increase its productivity. The Wealth of Nations opens
with a famous passage describing a pin factory in which 10 persons, by
specialising in various tasks, turn out 48,000 pins a day, compared with the
few, perhaps only 1 , that each could have produced alone. But this
all-important division of labour does not take place unaided. It can occur only
after the prior accumulation of capital (or stock, as Smith calls it ), which
is used to pay the additional workers and to buy tools and machines.
The drive for accumulation, however,
brings problems. The manufacturer who accumulates stock needs more labourers (
since labour-saving technology has no place in Smith’s scheme), and in
attempting to hire them he bids up their wages above their “natural” price.
Consequently his profits begin to fall, and the process of accumulation is in
danger of ceasing. But now there enters an ingenious mechanism for continuing
the advance. In bidding up the price of labour, the manufacturer inadvertently
sets into motion a process that increases the supply of labour, for “the demand
for men, like that for any other commodity, necessarily regulates the
production of men.” Specifically, Smith had in mind the effect of higher wages
in lessening child mortality. Under the influence of a larger labour supply,
the wage rise is moderated and profits are maintained; the new supply of
labourers offers a continuing opportunity for the manufacturer to introduce a
further division of labour and thereby add to the system’s growth.
Here then was a “machine” for growth
- a machine that operated with all the reliability of the Newtonian system with
which Smith was quite familiar. Unlike the Newtonian system, however, Smith’s
growth machine did not depend for its operation on the laws of nature alone.
Human nature drove it, and human nature was a complex rather than a simple
force. Thus, the wealth of nations would grow only if individuals, through
their governments, did not inhibit this growth by catering to the pleas for
special privilege that would prevent the competitive system from exerting its
begin effect. Consequently, much of The Wealth of Nations, especially Book IV,
is a polemic against the restrictive measures of the “mercantile system” that
favoured monopolies at home and abroad. Smith’s system of “natural liberty”, he
is careful to point out, accords with the best interests of all but will not be
put into practice if government is entrusted to, or heeds, the “mean rapacity,
who neither are , nor ought to be, the rulers of mankind.”
The Wealth of Nations is therefore
far from the ideological tract it is often supposed to be. Although Smith
preached laissez-faire (with important exceptions), his argument was directed
as much against monopoly as government; and although he extolled the social
results of the acquisitive process, he almost invariably treated the manners
and manoeuvres of businessmen with contempt. Nor did he see the commercial
system itself as wholly admirable. He wrote with decrement about the
intellectual degradation of the worker in a society in which the division of labour
has proceeded very far; for by comparison with the alert intelligence of the
husbandman, the specialised worker “generally becomes as stupid and ignorant as
it is possible for a human being to become”.
In all of this, it is notable that
Smith was writing in an age of preindustrial capitalism. He seems to have had
no real presentiment of the gathering Industrial Revolution, harbingers of
which were visible in the great ironworks only a few miles from Edinburgh. He
had nothing to say about large-scale industrial enterprise, and the few remarks
in The Wealth of Nations concerning the future of joint-stock companies
(corporations) are disparaging. Finally, one should bear in mind, that, if
growth is the great theme of The Wealth of Nations, it is not unending growth.
Here and there in the treatise are glimpsed at a secularly declining rate of
profit; and Smith mentions as well the prospects that when the system
eventually accumulates its “full complement of riches” - all the pin factories,
so to speak, whose output could be absorbed - economic decline would begin,
ending in an impoverished stagnation.
The Wealth of Nations was received
with admiration by Smith’s wide circle of friends and admires, although it was
by no means an immediate popular success. The work finished, Smith went into
semiretirement. The year following its publication he was appointed
commissioner both of customs and of salt duties for Scotland, posts that
brought him £600 a year. He thereupon informed his former charge that he
no longer required his pension, to which Buccleuch replied that his sense of
honour would never allow him to stop paying it. Smith was therefore quite well
off in the final years of his life, which were spent mainly in Edinburgh with
occasional trips to London or Glasgow (which appointed him a rector of the
university). The years passed quietly, with several revisions of both major
books but with no further publications. On July 17, 1790, at the age of 67,
full of honours and recognition, Smith died; he was buried in the churchyard at
Canongate with a simple monument stating that Adam Smith, author of The Wealth
of Nations, was buried there.
Beyond the few facts of his life,
which can be embroidered only in detail, exasperatingly little is known about
the man. Smith never married, and almost nothing is known of his personal side.
Moreover, it was the custom of his time to destroy rather than to preserve the
private files if illustrious men, with the unhappy result that much of Smith’s
unfinished work, as well as his personal papers, was destroyed (some as late as
1942). Only one portrait of Smith survives, a profile medallion by Tassie; it
gives a glimpse of the older man with his somewhat heavy-lidded eyes, aquiline
nose, and a hint of protrusive lower lip. “I am a beau in nothing but my books,
”Smith once told a friend to whom he was showing his library of some 3,000
volumes.
From various accounts, he was also a
man of many peculiarities, which included a stumbling manner of speech ( until
he had warmed to his subject), a gait described as “vermicular”/ and above all
an extraordinary and even comic absence of mind. On the other hand,
contemporaries wrote of a smile of “inexpressive benignity,” and of his
political tact and dispatch in managing the sometimes acerbic business of the
Glasgow faculty.
Certainly he enjoyed a high measure
of contemporary fame; even in his early days at Glasgow his reputation
attracted students from nations as distant as Russia, and his later years were
crowned not only with expression of admiration from many European thinkers but
by a growing recognition among British governing circles that his work provided
a rationale of inestimable importance for practical economic policy.
Over the years, Smith’s lustre as a
social philosopher has escaped much of the weathering that has affected the
reputations of other first-rate political economists. Although he was writing
for his generation, the breadth of his knowledge/ the cutting edge of his
generalization, the boldness of his vision, have never ceased to attract the
admiration of all social scientists, and in particular economists. Couched in
the spacious, cadenced prose of his period, rich in imagery and crowded with
life, The Wealth of Nations projects a sanguine but never sentimental image of
society. Never so finely analytic as David Ricardo nor so stern and profound as
Karl Marx, Smith is the very epitome of the Enlightenment: hopeful but
realistic, speculative but practical, always respectful of the classical past
but ultimately dedicated to the great discovery of his age - progress.
Ñïèñîê ëèòåðàòóðû
John Rae. “Life of Adam Smith” 1985
William Scott. “Adam Smith as
Student and Professor” 1987