Em The Road to Serfdom, escrito ao final da Segunda Guerra, Hayek busca advertir americanos e ingleses sobre o perigo do controle pelo estado dos meios de produção e dos riscos para as liberdades individuais representado pelos governos de esquerda e de direita. Hayek argumenta que, ainda que com uma intenção de proteger os cidadãos e a democracia, atitudes de controle podem levar a regimes não democráticos e a resultados indesejados. O pano de fundo deste texto é a formação econômica de Hayek e sua experiência pessoal na Alemanha, nos EUA e na Grã-bretanha.
"The Road To Serfdom
by F.A. Hayek
This is a condensed and abridged version, reproduced
without permission.
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THE AUTHOR has spent about half his adult life in his
native Austria, in close touch with German thought, and the
other half in the United States and England. In the latter
period he has become increasingly convinced that some of
the forces which destroyed freedom in Germany are also at
work her. The very magnitude of the outrages committed by
the National Socialists has strengthened the assurance that
a totalitarian system cannot happen here. But let us
remember that 15 years ago the possibility of such a thing
happening in Germany would have appeared just as fantastic
not only to nine tenths of the Germans themselves but also
to the most hostile foreign observer.
There are many features which were then regarded as
"typically German" which are now equally familiar in
America and England, and many symptoms that point to a
further development in the same direction: the increasing
veneration for the state, the fatalistic acceptance of
"inevitable trends," the enthusiasm for "organization" of
everything (we now call it "planning").
The character of the danger is, if possible, even less
understood here than it was in Germany. The supreme tragedy
is still not seen that in Germany it was largely people of
good will, who, by their socialist policies, prepared the
way for the forces which stand for everything they detest.
Few recognize that the rise of fascism and Nazism was not a
reaction against the socialist trends of the preceding
period but a necessary outcome of those tendencies. Yet it
is significant that many of the leaders of these
movements, from Mussolini down (and including Laval and
Quisling) began as socialists and ended as fascists or
Nazis. In the democracies at present, many who sincerely
hate all of Nazism's manifestations are working for ideals
whose realization would lead straight to the abhorred
tyranny. Most of the people whose views influence
developments are in some measure socialists. They believe
that our economic life should be "consciously directed,"
that we should substitute "economic planning" for the
competitive system. Yet is there a greater tragedy
imaginable than that, in our endeavor consciously to shape
our future in accordance with high ideals, we should in
fact unwittingly produce the very opposite of what we have
been striving for?
Planning and Power
IN ORDER to achieve their ends, the planners must create
power—power over men wielded by other men—of a magnitude
never before known. Their success will depend on the extent
to which they achieve such power. Democracy is an obstacle
to this suppression of freedom which the centralized
direction of economic activity requires. Hence arises the
clash between planning- and democracy.
Many socialists have the tragic illusion that by depriving
private individuals of the power they possess in an
individualist system, and transferring this power to
society, they thereby extinguish power. What they overlook
is that, by concentrating power so that it can be used in
the service of a single plan, it is not merely transformed
but infinitely heightened. By uniting in the hands of some
single body power formerly exercised independently by many,
an amount of power is created infinitely greater than any
that existed before, so much more far-reaching as almost
to be different in kind. It is entirely fallacious to argue
that the great power exercised by a central planning board
would be "no greater than the power collectively exercised
by private boards of directors." There is, in a competitive
society, nobody who can exercise even a fraction of the
power which a socialist planning board would possess. To
decentralize power is to reduce the absolute amount of
power, and the competitive system is the only system
designed to minimize the power exercised by man over man.
Who can seriously doubt that the power which a millionaire,
who may be my employer, has over me is very much less than
that which the smallest bureaucrat possesses who wields the
coercive power of the state and on whose discretion it
depends how I am allowed to live and work?
In every real sense a badly paid unskilled workman in this
country has more freedom to shape his life than many an
employer in Germany or a much better paid engineer or
manager in Russia. If he wants to change his job or the
place where he lives, if he wants to profess certain views
or spend his leisure in a particular way, he faces no
absolute impediments. There are no dangers to bodily
security and freedom that confine him by brute force to
the task and environment to which a superior has assigned
him. Our generation has forgotten that the system of
private property is the most important guaranty of freedom.
It is only because the control of the means of production
is divided among many people acting independently that we
as individuals can decide what to do with ourselves. When
all the means of production are vested in a single hand,
whether it be nominally that of "society" as a whole or
that of a dictator, whoever exercises this control has
complete power over us. In the hands of private
individuals, what is called economic power can be an
instrument of coercion, but it is never control over the
whole life of a person. But when economic power is
centralized as an instrument of political power it creates
a degree of dependence scarcely distinguishable from
slavery. It has been well said that, in a country where the
sole employer is the state, opposition means death by slow
starvation.
Background to Danger
INDIVIDUALISM, in contrast to socialism and all other
forms of totalitarianism, is based on the respect of
Christianity for the individual man and the belief that it
is desirable that men should be free to develop their own
individual gifts and bents. This philosophy, first fully
developed during the Renaissance, grew and spread into what
we know as Western civilization. The general direction of
social development was one of freeing the individual from
the ties which bound him in feudal society.
Perhaps the greatest result of this unchaining of
individual energies was the marvelous growth of science.
Only since industrial freedom opened the path to the free
use of new knowledge, only since everything could be tried
- if somebody could be found to back it at his own risk —
has science made the great strides which in the last 150
years have changed the face of the world. The result of
this growth surpassed all expectations. Wherever the
barriers to the Gee exercise of human ingenuity were
removed, man became rapidly able to satisfy ever-widening
ranges of desire. By the, beginning of the 20th century
the workingman in the Western World had reached a degree
of material comfort, security and personal independence
which 100 years before had hardly seemed possible. The
effect of this success was to create among men a new sense
of power over their own fate, the belief in the unbounded
possibilities of improving their own lot. What had been
achieved came to be regarded as a secure and imperishable
possession, acquired once and for all; and the rate of
progress began to seem too slow. Moreover, the principles
which had made this progress possible came to be regarded
as obstacles to speedier progress, impatiently to be
brushed away. It might be said that the very success of
liberalism became the cause of its decline.
No sensible person should have doubted that the economic
principles of the 19th century-were only a beginning —
that there were immense possibilities of advancement on the
lines on which we had moved. But according to the views now
dominant, the question is no longer how we can make the
best use of the spontaneous forces found in a free society.
We have in effect undertaken to dispense with these forces
and to replace them by collective and "conscious"
direction. It is significant that this abandonment of
liberalism, whether expressed as socialism in its more
radical form or merely as "organization" or "planning," was
perfected in Germany. During the last quarter of the 19th
century and the first quarter of the 20th, Germany moved
far ahead in both the theory and the practice of
socialism, so that even today Russian discussion largely
carries on where the Germans left off. The Germans, long
before the Nazis, were attacking liberalism and democracy,
capitalism and individualism.
Long before the Nazis, too, the German and Italian
socialists were using techniques of which the Nazis and
Fascists later made effective use. The idea of a political
party which embraces all activities of the individual from
the cradle to the grave, which claims to guide his views on
everything, was first put into practice by the socialists.
It was not the Fascists but the socialists who began to
collect children at the tenderest age into political
organizations to direct their thinking. It was not the
Fascists but the socialists who first thought of organizing
sports and games, football and hiking, in party clubs where
the members would not be infected by other views. It was
the socialists who first insisted that the party member
should distinguish himself from others by the modes of
greeting and the forms of address. It was they who, by
their organization of "cells" and devices for the permanent
supervision of private life, created the prototype of the
totalitarian party. By the time Hitler came to power,
liberalism was dead in Germany. And it was socialism that
had killed it. To many who have watched the transition from
socialism to fascism at close quarters the connection
between the two systems has become increasingly obvious,
but in the democracies the majority of people still believe
that socialism and freedom can be combined. They do not
realize that democratic socialism, the great utopia of the
last few generations, is not only unachievable but that to
strive for it produces something utterly different - the
very destruction of freedom itself. As has been aptly said:
"What has always made the state a hell on earth has been
precisely that man has tried to make it his heaven."
It is disquieting to see in England and the United States
today the same drawing together of forces and nearly the
same contempt of all that is liberal in the old sense.
"Conservative socialism" was the slogan under which a large
number of writers prepared the atmosphere in which
National Socialism succeeded. It is "conservative
socialism" which is the dominant trend among- us now.
The Liberal Way of Planning
"PLANNING" owes its popularity largely to the fact that
everybody desires, of course, that we should handle our
common problems with as much foresight as possible. The
dispute between the modern planners and the liberals is not
on whether we ought to employ systematic thinking in
planning our affairs. It is a dispute about what is the
best way of so doing. The question is whether we should
create conditions under which the knowledge and initiative
of individuals are given the best scope so that they can
plan most successfully; or whether we should direct and
organize all economic activities according to a
"blue-print," that is, "consciously direct the resources of
society to conform to the planners' particular views of
who should have what."
It is important not to confuse opposition against the
latter kind of planning with a dogmatic laissez faire
attitude. The liberal argument does not advocate leaving
things just as they are; it favors making the best possible
use of the forces of competition as a means of
coordinating human efforts. It is based on the conviction
that, where effective competition can be created, it is a
better way of guiding individual efforts than any other. It
emphasizes that in order to make competition work
beneficially a carefully thought-out legal framework is
required, and that neither the past nor the existing legal
rules are free from grave defects. Liberalism is opposed,
however, to supplanting competition by inferior methods of
guiding economic activity. And it regards competition as
superior not only because in most circumstances it is the
most efficient method known but because it is the only
method which does not require the coercive or arbitrary
intervention of authority. It dispenses with the need for
"conscious social control" and gives individuals a chance
to decide whether the prospects of a particular occupation
are sufficient to compensate for the disadvantages
connected with it. The successful use of competition does
not preclude some types of government interference. For
instance, to limit working hours, to require certain
sanitary arrangements, to provide an extensive system of
social services is fully compatible with the preservation
of competition. There are, too, certain fields where the
system of competition is impracticable. For example, the
harmful effects of deforestation or of the smoke of
factories cannot be confined to the owner of the property
in question. But the fact that we have to resort to direct
regulation by authority where the conditions for the proper
working of competition cannot be created does not prove
that we should suppress competition where it can be made to
function. To create conditions in which competition will be
as effective as possible, to prevent fraud and deception,
to break up monopolies— these tasks provide a wide and
unquestioned field for state activity. This does not mean
that it is possible to find some "middle way" between
competition and central direction, though nothing seems at
first more plausible, or is more likely to appeal to
reasonable people. Mere common sense proves a treacherous
guide in this field. Although competition can bear some
admixture of regulation, it cannot be combined with
planning to any extent we like without ceasing to operate
as an effective guide to production. Both competition and
central direction become poor and inefficient tools if they
are incomplete, and a mixture of the two - means that
neither will work. Planning and competition can be
combined only by planning for competition, not by planning
against competition. The planning against which all our
criticism is directed is solely the planning against
competition.
The Great Utopia
THERE CAN BE no doubt that most of those in the
democracies who demand a central direction of all economic
activity still believe that socialism and individual
freedom can be combined. Yet socialism was early
recognized by many thinkers as the gravest threat to
freedom.
It is rarely remembered now that socialism in its
beginnings was frankly authoritarian. It began quite openly
as a reaction against the liberalism of the French
Revolution. The French writers who laid its foundation had
no doubt that their ideas could be put into practice only
by a strong dictatorial government. The first of modern
planners, Saint-Simon, predicted that those who did not
obey his proposed planning boards would be "treated as
cattle."
Nobody saw more clearly than the great political thinker de
Tocqueville that democracy stands in an irreconcilable
conflict with socialism: "Democracy extends the sphere of
individual freedom," he said. "Democracy attaches all
possible value to each man," he said in 1848, "while
socialism makes each man a mere agent, a mere number.
Democracy and socialism have nothing in common but one
word: equality. But notice the difference: while democracy
seeks equality in liberty, socialism seeks equality in
restraint and servitude."
To allay these suspicions and to harness to its cart the
strongest of all political motives—the craving for freedom
— socialists began increasingly to make use of the promise
of a "new freedom." Socialism was to bring "economic
freedom," without which political freedom was "not worth
having."
To make this argument sound plausible, the word "freedom"
was subjected to a subtle change in meaning. The word had
formerly meant freedom from coercion, from the arbitrary
power of other men. Now it was made to mean freedom from
necessity, release from the compulsion of the circumstances
which inevitably limit the range of choice of all of us.
Freedom in this sense is, of course, merely another name
for power or wealth. The demand for the new freedom was
thus only another name for the old demand for a
redistribution of wealth.
The claim that a planned economy would produce a
substantially larger output than the competitive system is
being progressively abandoned by most students of the
problem. Yet it is this false hope as much as anything
which drives us along the road to planning.
Although our modern socialists' promise of greater freedom
is genuine and sincere, in recent years observer after
observer has been impressed by the unforeseen consequences
of socialism, the extraordinary similarity in many respects
of the conditions under "communism" and "fascism." As the
writer Peter Drucker expressed it in 1939, "the complete
collapse of the belief in the attainability of freedom and
equality through Marxism has forced Russia to travel the
same road toward a totalitarian society of un-freedom and
inequality which Germany has been following. Not that
communism and fascism are essentially the same. Fascism is
the stage reached after communism has proved an illusion,
and it has proved as much an illusion in Russia as in
pre-Hitler Germany."
No less significant is the intellectual outlook of the
rank and file in the communist and fascist movements in
Germany before 1933. The relative ease with which a young
communist could be converted into a Nazi or vice versa was
well known, best of all to the propagandists of the two
parties. The communists and Nazis clashed more frequently
with each other than with other parties simply because they
competed for the same type of mind and reserved for each
other the hatred of the heretic. Their practice showed how
closely they are related. To both, the real enemy, the man
with whom they had nothing in common, was the liberal of
the old type. While to the Nazi the communist and to the
communist the Nazi, and to both the socialist, are
potential recruits made of the right timber, they both know
that there can be no compromise between them and those who
really believe in individual freedom.
What is promised to us as the Road to Freedom is in fact
the Highroad to Servitude. For it is not difficult to see
what must be the consequences when democracy embarks upon a
course of planning. The goal of the planning will be
described by some such vague term as "the general
welfare." There will be no real agreement as to the ends to
be attained, and the effect of the people's agreeing that
there must be central planning, without agreeing on the
ends, will be rather as if a group of people were to commit
themselves to take a journey together without agreeing
where they want to go: with the result that they may all
have to make a journey which most of them do not want at
all.
Democratic assemblies cannot function as planning
agencies. They cannot produce agreement on everything —
the whole direction of the resources of the nation-for the
number of possible courses of action will be legion. Even
if a congress could, by proceeding step by step and
compromising at each point, agree on some scheme, it would
certainly in the end satisfy nobody.
To draw up an economic plan in this fashion is even less
possible than, for instance, successfully to plan a
military campaign by democratic procedure. As in strategy
it would become inevitable to delegate the task to experts.
And even if, by this expedient, a democracy should succeed
in planning every sector of economic activity, it would
still have to face the problem of integrating these
separate plans into a unitary whole. There will be a
stronger and stronger demand that some board or some
single individual should be given power to act on their own
responsibility. The cry for an economic dictator is a
characteristic stage in the movement toward planning. Thus
the legislative body will be reduced to choosing the
persons who are to have practically absolute power. The
whole system will tend toward that kind of dictatorship in
which the head of the government is position by popular
vote, but where he has all the powers at his command to
make certain that the vote will go in the direction he
desires. Planning leads to dictatorship because
dictatorship is the most effective instrument of coercion
and, as such, essential if central planning on a large
scale is to be possible. There is no justification for the
widespread belief that, so long as power is conferred by
democratic procedure, it cannot be arbitrary; it is not the
source of power which prevents it from being arbitrary; to
be free from dictatorial qualities, the power must also be
limited. A true "dictatorship of the proletariat," even if
democratic in form, if it undertook centrally to direct the
economic system, would probably destroy personal freedom as
completely as any autocracy has ever done.
Individual freedom cannot be reconciled with the supremacy
of one single purpose to which the whole of society is
permanently subordinated. To a limited extent we ourselves
experience this fact in wartime, when subordination of
almost everything to the immediate and pressing need is
the price at which we preserve our freedom in the long run.
The fashionable phrases about doing for the purposes of
peace what we have learned.to do for the purposes of war
are completely misleading, for it is sensible temporarily
to sacrifice freedom in order to make it more secure in
the future, but it is quite a different thing to sacrifice
liberty permanently in the interests of a planned economy.
To those who have watched the transition from socialism to
fascism at close quarters, the connection between the two
systems is obvious. The realization of the socialist
program means the destruction of freedom. Democratic
socialism, the great utopia of the last few generations, is
simply not achievable.
Why the Worst Get on Top
NO DOUBT an American or English "fascist" system would
greatly differ from the Italian or German models; no doubt,
if the transition were effected without violence, we might
expect to get a better type of leader. Yet this does not
mean that our fascist system would in the end prove very
different or much less intolerable than its prototypes.
There are strong reasons for believing that the worst
features of the totalitarian systems are phenomena which
totalitarianism is certain sooner or later to produce.
Just as the democratic statesman who sets out to plan
economic life will soon be confronted with the alternative
of either assuming dictatorial powers or abandoning his
plans, so the totalitarian leader would soon have to choose
between disregard of ordinary morals and failure. It is
for this reason that the unscrupulous are likely to be more
successful in a society tending toward totalitarianism. Who
does not see this has not yet grasped the full width of
the gulf which separates totalitarianism from the
essentially individualist Western civilization.
The totalitarian leader must collect around him a group
which is prepared voluntarily to submit to that discipline
which they are to impose by force upon the rest of the
people. That socialism can be put info practice only by
methods which most socialists disapprove is, of course, a
lesson learned by many social reformers in the past. The
old socialist parties were inhibited by their democratic
ideals; they did not possess the ruthlessness required for
the performance of their chosen task. It is characteristic
that both in Germany and in Italy the success of fascism
was preceded by the refusal of the socialist parties to
take over the responsibilities of government. They were
unwilling wholeheartedly to employ the methods to which
they had pointed the way. They still hoped for the miracle
of a majority's agreeing on a particular plan for the
organization of the whole of society. Others had already
learned the lesson that in a planned society the question
can no longer be on what do a majority of the people agree
but what the largest single group is whose members agree
sufficiently to make unified direction of all affairs
possible.
There are three main reasons why such a numerous group,
with fairly similar views, is not likely to be formed by
the best but rather by the worst elements of any society.
First, the higher the education and intelligence of
individuals become, the more their tastes and views are
differentiated. If we wish to find a high degree of
uniformity in outlook, we have to descend to the regions of
your moral and intellectual standards where the more
primitive instincts prevail. This does not mean that the
majority of people have low moral standards; it merely
means that the largest group of people whose values are
very similar are the people with low standards.
Second, since this group is not large enough to give
sufficient weight to the leader's endeavors, he will have
to increase their numbers by converting more to the same
simple creed. He must gain the support of the docile and
gullible, who have no strong convictions of their own but
are ready to accept a ready-made system of values if it is
only drummed into their ears sufficiently loudly and
frequently. It will be those whose vague and imperfectly
formed ideas are easily swayed and whose passions and
emotions are readily aroused who will thus swell the ranks
of the totalitarian party.
Third, to weld together a closely coherent body of
supporters, the leader must appeal to a common human
weakness. It seems to be easier for people to agree on a
negative program — on the hatred of an enemy, on the envy
of those better off - than on any positive task. The
contrast between the "we" and the "they" is consequently
always employed by those who seek the allegiance of huge
masses. The enemy may be internal, like the "Jew" in
Germany or the "kulak" in Russia, or he may be external. In
any case, this technique has the great advantage of leaving
the leader greater freedom of action than would almost any
positive program.
Advancement within a totalitarian group or party depends
largely on a willingness to do immoral things. The
principle that the end justifies the means, which in
individualist ethics is regarded as the denial of all
morals, in collectivist ethics becomes necessarily the
supreme rule. There is literally nothing which the
consistent collectivist must not be prepared to do if it
serves "the good of the whole," because that is to him the
only criterion of what ought to be done. Once you admit
that the individual is merely a means to serve the ends of
the higher entity called society or the nation, most of
those features of totalitarianism which horrify us follow
of necessity. From the collectivist standpoint intolerance
and brutal suppression of dissent, deception and spying,
the complete disregard of the life and happiness of the
individual are essential and unavoidable Acts which revolt
all our feelings, such as the shooting of hostages or the
killing of the old or sick, are treated as mere matters of
expediency; the compulsory uprooting and transportation of
hundreds of thousands becomes an instrument of policy
approved by almost everybody except the victims. To be a
useful assistant in the running of a totalitarian state,
therefore, a man must be prepared to break every moral rule
he has ever known if this seems necessary to achieve the
end set for him. In the totalitarian machine there will be
special opportunities for the ruthless and unscrupulous.
Neither the Gestapo nor the administration of a
concentration camp, neither the Ministry of Propaganda nor
the SA or SS (or their Russian counterparts) are suitable
places for the exercise of humanitarian feelings. Yet it is
through such positions that the road to the highest
positions in the totalitarian state leads. A distinguished
American economist, Professor Frank H. Knight, correctly
notes that the authorities of a collectivist state "would
have to do these things whether they wanted to or not: and
the probability of the people in power being individuals
who would dislike the possession and exercise of power is
on a level with the probability that an extremely
tenderhearted person would get the job of whipping master
in a slave plantation."
A further point should be made here: Collectivism means
the end of truth. To make a totalitarian system function
efficiently, it is not enough that everybody should be
forced to work for the ends selected by those in control;
it is essential that the people should come to regard
these ends as their own. This is brought about by
propaganda and by complete control of all sources of
information.
The most effective way of making people accept the
validity of the values they are to serve is to persuade
them that they are really the same as those they have
always held, but which were not properly understood or
recognized before. And the most efficient technique to this
end is to use the old words but change their meaning. Few
traits of totalitarian regimes are at the same time so
confusing to the superficial observer and yet so
characteristic of the whole intellectual climate as this
complete perversion of language.
The worst sufferer in this respect is the word "liberty."
It is a word used as freely in totalitarian states as
elsewhere. Indeed, it could almost be said that wherever
liberty as we know it has been destroyed, this has been
done in the name of some new freedom promised to the
people. Even among us we have planners who promise us a
"collective freedom," which is as misleading as anything
said by totalitarian politicians. "Collective freedom" is
not the freedom of the members of society but the unlimited
freedom of the planner to do with society that which he
pleases. This is the confusion of freedom with power
carried to the extreme. It is not difficult to deprive the
seat majority of independent thought. But the minority who
will retain an inclination to criticize must also be
silenced. Public criticism or even expressions of doubt
must be suppressed because they tend to weaken support of
the regime. As Sidney and Beatrice Webb report of the
position in every Russian enterprise: "Whilst the work is
in progress, any public expression of doubt that the plan
will be successful is an act of disloyalty and even of
treachery because of its possible effect on the will and
efforts of the rest of the staff."
Control extends even to subjects which seem to have no
political significance. The theory of relativity, for
instance, has been opposed as a "Semitic attack on the
foundation of Christian and Nordic physics" and because
it is "in conflict with dialectical materialism and
Marxist dogma." Every activity must derive its
justification from conscious social purpose. There must be
no spontaneous, unguided activity, because it might
produce results which cannot be foreseen and for which the
plan does not provide.
The principle extends even to games and amusements. I
leave it to the reader to guess where it was that chess
players were officially exhorted that "we must finish once
and for all with the neutrality of chess. We must condemn
once and for all the formula 'chess for the sake of
chess.' "
Perhaps the most alarming fact is that contempt for
intellectual liberty is not a thing which arises only once
the totalitarian system is established but can be found
everywhere among those who have embraced a collectivist
faith. The worst oppression is condoned if it is committed
in the name of socialism. Intolerance of opposing ideas is
openly extolled; The tragedy of collectivist thought is
that, while it starts out to make reason supreme, it ends
by destroying reason. There is one aspect of the change in
moral values brought about by the advance of collectivism
which provides special food for thought. It is that the
virtues which are held less and less in esteem in Britain
and America are precisely those on which Anglo-Saxons
justly prided themselves and in which they were generally
recognized to excel. These virtues were independence and
self-reliance, individual initiative and local
responsibility, the successful reliance on voluntary
activity, noninterference with one's neighbor and tolerance
of the different, and a healthy suspicion of power and
authority. Almost all the traditions and institutions
which have molded the national character and the whole
moral climate of England and America are those which the
progress of collectivism and its centralistic tendencies
are progressively destroying.
Planning vs. the Rule of Law
NOTHING distinguishes more clearly a free country from a
country under arbitrary government than the observance in
the former of the great principles known as the Rule of
Law. Stripped of technicalities, this means that government
in all its actions is bound by rules fixed and announced
beforehand
Two Kinds of Security
LIKE the spurious "economic freedom," and with more
justice, economic security is often represented as an
indispensable condition of real liberty. In a sense this is
both true and important. Independence of mind or strength
of character is rarely found among those who cannot be
confident that they will make their way by their own
effort.
But there are two kinds of security: the certainty of a
given minimum of sustenance for all and the security of a
given standard of life, of the relative position which one
person or group enjoys compared with others. There is no
reason why, in a society which has reached the general
level of wealth ours has, the first kind of security should
not be guaranteed to all without endangering general
freedom; that is: some minimum of food, shelter and
clothing, sufficient to preserve health. Nor is there any
reason why the state should not help to organize a
comprehensive system of social insurance in providing for
those common hazards of life against which few can make
adequate provision. It is planning for security of the
second kind which has such an insidious effect on liberty.
It is planning designed to protect individuals or groups
against diminutions of their incomes.
Limitation of output so that prices will secure an
“adequate” return, is the only way in which in a
market economy producers can be guaranteed a certain
income. If, as has become increasingly true, in each
trade in which conditions improve, the members are
allowed to exclude others in order to secure to
themselves the full gain in the form of higher wages
or profits, those in the trades where demand has
fallen have nowhere to go, and every change becomes
the cause of large unemployment.
There can be little doubt that it is largely
a consequence of the striving for security by these means
in the last decades that unemployment and thus insecurity
have so much increased. The utter hopelessness of the
position of those who, in a society which has thus grown
rigid, are left outside the range of sheltered occupation,
can be appreciated only by those who have experienced it.
There has never been a more cruel exploitation of one class
by another than that of the less fortunate members of a
group of producers by the well-established. This has been
made possible by the "regulation" of competition. Few
catch-words have done so much harm as the ideal of a
"stabilization" of particular prices or wages, which, while
securing the income of some, makes the position of the rest
more and more precarious. In England and America
special privileges, especially in the form of the
"regulation" of competition, the "stabilization" of
particular prices and wages, have assumed increasing
importance. With every grant of such security to one group
the insecurity of the rest necessarily increases. If you
guarantee to some a fixed part of a variable cake, the
share left to the rest is bound to fluctuate proportionally
more than the size of the whole. And the essential element
of security which the competitive system offers, the great
variety of opportunities, is more and more reduced.
The general endeavor to achieve security by restrictive
measures, supported by the state, has in the course of time
produced a progressive transformation of society - a
transformation in which, as in so many other ways, Germany
has led and the other countries have followed. This
development has been hastened by another effect of
socialist teaching, the deliberate disparagement of all
activities involving economic risk and the moral opprobrium
cast on the gains which make risks worth taking but which
only few can win.
We cannot blame our young men when they prefer the safe,
salaried position to the risk of enterprise after they have
heard from their earliest youth the former described as the
superior, more unselfish and disinterested occupation. The
younger generation of today has grown up in a world in
which, in school and press, the spirit of commercial
enterprise has been represented as disreputable and the
making of profit as immoral, where to employ 100 people is
represented as exploitation but to command the same number
as honorable. Older people may regard this as an
exaggeration, but the daily experience of the university
teacher leaves little doubt that, as a result of
anticapitalist propaganda, values have already altered far
in advance of the change in institutions which has so far
taken place. The question is whether, by changing our
institutions to satisfy the new demands, we shall not
unwittingly destroy values which we still rate higher.
The conflict with which we have to deal is a fundamental
one between two irreconcilable types of social
organization, which have often been described as the
commercial and the military. In either both choice and
risk rest with the individual or he is relieved or both. In
the army, work and worker alike are allotted by authority,
and this is the only system in which the individual can be
conceded full economic security. This security is, however,
inseparable from the restrictions on liberty and the
hierarchical order of military life - it is the security of
the barracks.
In a society used to freedom it is unlikely that many
people would be ready deliberately to purchase security ar
this price. But the policies which are followed now are
nevertheless rapidly creating conditions in which the
striving for security tends to become stronger than the
love of freedom.
If we are not to destroy individual freedom, competition
must be left to function unobstructed. Let a uniform
minimum be secured to everybody by all means; but let us
admit at the same time that all claims for a privileged
security of particular classes must lapse, that all
excuses disappear for allowing particular groups to exclude
newcomers from sharing their relative prosperity in order
to maintain a special standard of their own.
There can be no question that adequate security against
severe privation will have to be one of our main goals of
policy. But nothing is more fatal than the present fashion
of intellectual leaders of extolling security at the
expense of freedom. It is essential that we should relearn
frankly to face the fact that freedom can be had only at a
price and that as individuals we must be prepared to make
severe material sacrifices to preserve it.
We must regain the conviction on which liberty in the
Anglo-Saxon countries has been based and which Benjamin
Franklin expressed in a phrase applicable to us as
individuals no less than as nations: "Those who would give
up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety
deserve neither liberty nor safety."
Toward a Better World
TO BUILD a better world, we must have the courage to make
a new start. We must clear away the obstacles with which
human folly has recently encumbered our path and release
the creative energy of individuals; We must create
conditions favorable to progress rather than "planning
progress. " It is not those who cry for more "planning" who
show the necessary courage, nor those who preach a "New
Order," which is no more than a continuation of the
tendencies of the past 40 years; and who can think of
nothing better than to imitate Hitler. It is, indeed, those
who cry loudest for a planned economy who are most
completely under the sway of the ideas which have created
this war and most of the evils from which we suffer.
The guiding principle in any attempt to create a world of
free men must be this: A policy of freedom for the
individual is the only truly progressive policy." (Fonte: http://jim.com/hayek.htm)