More than enough
If . . . we come to the conclusion, not to interfere in any respect, but to leave every man to his own free choice, and responsible only to God for the evil he does . . . this is all I contend for.
—Thomas Robert Malthus
I am constantly
surprised that defenders of liberty and free markets love to bash Thomas Robert
Malthus.
Maybe I shouldn’t
be, but consider this: Robert Malthus (his friends called him “Bob”) was one of
the primary interpreters of Adam Smith for the generation after Smith. Indeed,
a lot of people who pick on “Thomas” Malthus get Bob Malthus wrong.
That’s not to say
that Malthus was right about everything. But even more than Smith's, Malthus’s
economics built upon the idea that all humans similarly respond to incentives,
and he thereby rejected the idea of natural hierarchy. Writing in a country
that had excessive restrictions on labor markets—take a look at the poor
laws—Malthus was an advocate of free labor markets. And
Malthus argued that private property rights, free markets, and an institution
that would ensure that both parents were financially responsible for the
children they bore (that is, marriage) were essential features of an advanced civilization.
“Wait a minute,”
you may be thinking. “Are we talking about the Malthus who claimed back in 1798
in his book An Essay on the Principle of Population that
population growth would decrease per capita well-being? Isn’t this the guy who
argued that the combination of population growth and natural resource scarcity
would create catastrophic consequences, including disease, starvation, and war,
for much of the human race? And didn’t he miss the benefits of entrepreneurship
and innovation, blinded as he was by the fallacy of land scarcity?”
That Malthus—let’s
call this one “Tom”—is more a creature of the ideological opponents of markets
than of Malthus’s own writings. So maybe we should revisit Malthus and see what
he actually said.
It all begins with
a thought experiment: What would happen to human population in the absence of
any institutions?
The answer is the
population principle, which is the only thing most people know about Malthus.
And it’s largely correct. In the absence of institutions, humans are reduced to
their biological basics. Like animals, humans share the necessity to eat and
the passions that lead to procreation. To eat, humans must produce food. To
procreate, humans must have sex. If there are no institutions, human population
will behave like any animal population and increase to the limit of its
ecology’s carrying capacity.
The biological
model is simplistic; it treats humans as mere biological agents. It is this
biological model that produces all the results people usually associate with
Malthus’s name. And it’s not very far off from people’s conditions when their
institutions have suddenly been disrupted by things like conquest, revolution,
or war. (Consider the dual problems of war and drought that resulted in famine
for Ethiopians in 1983–85, for example.)
But for Bob
Malthus, the biological model is only a starting point. The model set up his
next concern: the incentives created by different institutional rules for
families’ fertility choices (in Malthus’s terms: the decision to delay
marriage). The comparative institutional analysis that emerged from his further
investigation became the basis for his defense of the institutional framework
of a free society.
But to get there,
Malthus needed a more complex model of the human being, one that viewed us as
more than biological agents.
His more complex
model included two additional things.
The first was
human reason and foresight. (Darwin’s model of natural selection actually came
to him when he asked, while reading Malthus, what the biological response to
the lack of foresight and reason would be.) Malthus asked, what happens when we recognize that humans have the capacity to
anticipate the future and to respond to it? His answer was that
individuals prudentially make changes in their choices in order to respond to
potential opportunities and threats.
The second thing
Malthus introduced was a form of contractarianism and the idea of institutional
incentives. When we recognize that humans can contract with others to create
rules that will structure our future options, then we are building social
institutions that incentivize individual actions.
Malthus first
employs both of his models in his criticism of William Godwin’s Political Justice, at the end of his original Essay. Using the biological model, Malthus shows that
Godwin’s call to eliminate all institutions would result in rapid population
growth, creating the threat of a population “bomb.” But then he stops short of
reducing humanity to Hobbes’s tragedy of the war of all against all. (Garrett
Hardin went further than Malthus would in his “tragedy of the commons” article,
which has had such an influence on neo-Malthusians.) Why does Malthus not draw
the obvious neo-Malthusian conclusion? Because he begins to employ his complex
model instead.
Seeing the
prospect of falling into a Hobbesian state of nature, people would rather “hold
a convention” and establish property rights. And then, he argues, they would
fashion a rule or institution (call it “marriage”) that would require
parents—especially fathers—to be financially responsible for their children.
These institutional moves would allow society to create a sustainable future.
The institutional
considerations of his more complex theory really come out, however, in
subsequent editions of the Essay. In these
editions, Malthus engages in a nascent form of empirical institutional
analysis. Between his own travels and traveler reports from around the world,
he assembles a comparative study of how different institutional settings handle
population growth. His hypothesis is simple: Nations with civilized
institutions will depend less on the positive checks on population growth
because their citizens are provided with clear signals that allow prudential
decisions regarding the delay of marriage. What he found was that in societies
with private property rights, markets, and incentives that encourage
responsible fertility choices (what he called marriage), the positive checks of
disease and starvation never come into play, while in societies without those
institutions, the positive checks operate in full force.
It turns out the
mainstream view of Tom (as opposed to the real “Bob”) was first created by
opponents of markets, sustained throughout the nineteenth century by lovers of
hierarchy, and resuscitated in the twentieth century by environmentalists
committed to the view that there are natural limits to economic growth. These
environmentalists picked out the bits they liked and scrapped the rest, as it
suited their agendas.
But Bob Malthus
thought institutions mattered. For Malthus, the institutions of a free society
mattered for prudential fertility choices, as well as for human flourishing.
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