Jefferson and the Land Question
Henry George Jr.
[New York, May 1904]
Jefferson is a pole star among political philosophers because he
based his politics on the eternal, self-evident, fundamental truths
that all men are created free and equal and that they are endowed by
their Creator with certain inherent and unalienable rights, among
which are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. How are the
rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness primarily to be
exercised? Not in the political field, but in the underlying social
field. How shall a man get an independent living precedes how shall
he participate in general government. He cannot exercise, or fully
exercise, his political faculties until, without let or hindrance,
he can get sustenance.
Hence Jefferson's political axiom involves as a Prerequisite a
social or economic axiom, without observance of which political
institutions can be only as a house built upon the sand. This
economic axiom is that men have equal rights to natural
opportunities, to land. O, land mankind must have its habitation and
from it must draw subsistence. Nowhere else, from no other source,
can it live. Therefore, the rights of life, liberty and pursuit of
happiness carry with them the inherent, unalienable, equal right of
all to land.
If this economic principle is not in the general mind associated
with Jefferson's doctrine of democracy it is only because he did not
give it prominence. When there was seeming need he set it forth
explicitly and clearly, but this was rarely. Was there not in his
day unappropriated land in superabundance? Why inject into the
domain of war issues, into the intricate and difficult business of
the founding of a nation and the construction of a radically new
form of government, the abstract question of equal rights to land,
when as a practical fact plenty could be had by anyone for the mere
taking!
In Jefferson's day a small population lay scattered along the
Atlantic seaboard. The great virgin, unappropriated, and for the
most part unexplored, continent, three thousand miles broad,
stretched west, open to the pioneer and the settler. Of land there
appeared enough for scores of generations to come. The nation was
agricultural, and whoever desired it could have a farm by moving
into the trackless wilderness and making a clearing, which more and
more were doing, thereby showing their freedom from dependence upon
the established centers. They faced the sunset and moved out along
the Ohio and the Mississippi.
Although a man of great and varied learning and polished culture,
Jefferson was in spirit a frontiersman. He had a strong affinity for
the rugged, independent pioneer and settler. He was a graduate of
the oldest, and, at that time, richest institution of learning in
America, the College of William and Mary, near Williamsburg,
Virginia. By inheritance he was for that day a well-to-do man. By
this and marriage and social connections he belonged to the wealthy
planter class, which, relieved from toil for subsistence, could
yield itself to the ease, graces and refinements of life.
Jefferson's alert, powerful, acquisitive, analytical mind found this
a most suitable soil for its development.
An environment so stimulating to intellectual growth might also be
expected to take a subtile, invisible hold on the mind and make of
its beneficiary its votary and creature. But while fully conscious
of the charms of its warm and tranquil atmosphere, Jefferson was
early aware that the wealthy planter class was the bulwark in
Virginia and the South of the British Crown tyranny and the buttress
there of the Established Church, which falsely gave the sanction of
religion to such tyranny and preached submission to the rulers God
had raised over the people.
The resistance that early germinated in the free, bold mind
against the usurpations and abuses of the British Crown thus came at
length to include as a whole the planter class and their established
priesthood. As Moses, adopted Prince in the house of Pharaoh, next
in blood to Royalty, struck dead the Egyptian taskmaster, and,
turning his back upon pride and circumstance of power, led forth the
Hebrew slaves into the desert toward the Promised Land, so
Jefferson, moved by anger and scorn against the planter class for
its fellowship and partnership in the tyranny of the Crown, threw
off its allurements, so congenial to his tastes and habits, and
allied himself absolutely, unreservedly, actively, permanently with
the wronged masses. In the struggle in that agricultural community
between the "planters," or large landowners, and the "settlers,"
or small landowners, Jefferson's heart was always with the latter.
It was the old fight in a new form -- the antagonism between the
silk stockings and the wool hats, between the red heels and the
sabots. Jefferson, by fortune and culture, of the silk stockings and
red heels, consciously, deliberately, with definite and fixed
purpose, sided with the wool hats and sabots. It was in some degree
as if a French seigneur under the ancient regime had rejected place
and power to preach the destruction of privilege on the one side and
the upraising of the trampled and despised on the other.
But this comparison of Jefferson with the French noble can be only
in degree, and in slight degree. The social desparity, so extreme in
the old world, was but faintly marked in the new. The rich men of
America were of but moderate means beside the rich of Europe, while
the poor were greatly better off here than there. "From
Savannah [Georgia] to Portsmouth [Maine]," said Jefferson in
his "Notes on Virginia," "you will seldom meet a
beggar. In the large towns, indeed, they sometimes present
themselves. These are usually foreigners who have never obtained a
settlement in any parish. I never yet saw a native American begging
in the streets and highways. A subsistence is easily gained here."
To Claviere he wrote: "I attended the bar of the Supreme Court
of Virginia ten years as a student and practitioner. There never was
during that time a trial for robbery on the highroad, nor do I
remember ever to have heard of one in that or any other of the
States, except in the cities of New York and Philadelphia
immediately after the departure of the British army. Some deserters
from that army infested those cities for awhile." In the "Notes
on Virginia," Jefferson compared social conditions. "So
desirous are the poor of Europe to get to America, where they may
better their condition," he said, "that, being unable to
pay their passage, they will agree to serve two or three years on
their arrival there, rather than not go. During that time they are
better fed, better clothed, and have lighter labor than while in
Europe. Continuing to work for hire, a few years longer, they buy a
farm, marry and enjoy all the sweets of a domestic society of their
own."
The fact that Jefferson always kept clearly in mind was that "a
subsistence is easily gained here." He explained this by the
first principles of political economy, namely, that men had easy
access to natural opportunities. To John Jay he wrote: "We have
now lands enough to employ an infinite number of people in their
cultivation. Cultivators of the earth are the most valuable
citizens. They are the most vigorous, the most independent, the most
virtuous, and they are tied to their country and wedded to its
liberty by the most lasting bonds." In the "Notes"'
he said: "In Europe the lands are either cultivated or locked
up against the cultivator, Manufacture must, therefore, be resorted
to, of necessity, not of choice, to support the surplus of their
people. But we have an immensity of land courting the industry of
husbandmen. men. ... Those who labor the earth are the chosen people
of God if ever He had a chosen people, whose breasts He has made his
peculiar deposit for substantial and genuine virtue. It is the focus
in which he keeps alive that sacred fire, which otherwise might
escape from the face of the earth. Corruption of morals in the mass
of cultivators is a phenomenon of which no age nor nation has
furnished an example."
And because manufacturing called for condensed population and
seemingly more or less dependence for employment, and since "dependence
begets subservience and venality, suffocates the germ of virtue and
prepares fit tools for the designs of ambition," manufacturing
was to be avoided. But as he explained later to J. Lithgow,
concerning a revised edition of the "Notes," he did not
intend an indiscriminate denunciation of manufacturing but had in
mind the possible future repetition in this country of the
conditions he beheld in Europe, where "the manufactures of the
great cities ... have begotten a depravity of morals, a dependence
and corruption, which renders them an undesirable accession to a
country whose morals are sound." "But," continued the
philosopher, "as yet our manufactures are as much at their
ease, independent and moral, as our agricultural habits, and they
will continue so as long as there are vacant lands for them to
resort to; because whenever it shall be attempted by the other
classes to reduce them to the minimum of subsistence they will quit
their trade and go to laboring the earth." And to James
Madison, his closest friend, he wrote from Paris in this same line:
"I think our governments [Federal and State] will remain
virtuous for many centuries -- as long as they are chiefly
agricultural; and this will be as long as there are vacant
[unappropriated] lands in any part of America. When they [our
people] get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe,
they will become corrupt, as in Europe."
These were not accidental remarks or passing views of the great
American. They were the conclusions of observation and thought --
thought that was extraordinarily far reaching in its consequences.
Writing to Madison from Paris, where, he said, they were immersed in
a course of reflection "on elementary principles of society,"
he remarked that he was led to a consideration of the question "Whether
one generation of men has a right to bind another," -- a
question "that seems never to have been started either on this
or on our side of the water." "I set out on this ground
which I suppose to be self-evident," observes Jefferson, "that
the earth belongs in usufruct to the living, that the dead have
neither powers nor rights over it. ...On similar ground it may be
proved that no society can make a perpetual constitution or even a
perpetual law. Every constitution, then, and every law, naturally
expires at the end of nineteen years. If it be enforced longer, it
is an act of force and not of right. ...This principle that the
earth belongs to the living and not to the dead is of very extensive
application and consequences in every 'country, and most especially
in France. It enters into the resolution of the questions: Whether
the nation may change the descent of land holden in tail? Whether
they may change the appropriation of lands given anciently to the
church, colleges, orders of chivalry and otherwise in perpetuity?
Whether they may abolish the charges and privileges attached on
lands, including the whole catalogue ecclesiastical and feudal! It
goes to hereditary offices, authorities and jurisdictions; to
hereditary orders, distinctions and appellations; to perpetual
monopolies in commerce, the arts and sciences; and a long train of
et ceteras; and it renders the question of reimbursement a question
of generosity and not of right."
This argues that one generation has no right to make land laws, or
any other kind of laws, for another generation. Far in advance of
general thought as this was, Jefferson did not stop here, but
pointed out the fundamental right to land of individuals composing
any generation. This he wrote, also from Paris, to the father of
Madison, the Rev. James Madison: "The property of this country
[France] is absolutely concentrated in a very few hands, having
revenues of from half a million guineas a year downward. These
employ the flower of the country as servants, some of them having as
many as two hundred domestics, not laboring. They employ also a
great number of manufacturers and tradesmen, and lastly the class of
laboring husbandmen. But after all there comes the most numerous of
all the classes, that is, the poor who cannot find work. I asked
myself what could be the reason that so many should be permitted to
beg who are willing to work, in a country where there is a very
considerable proportion of uncultivated land? These lands are
undisturbed only for the sake of game. ... Whenever there is in any
country uncultivated lands and unemployed poor it is clear that the
laws of property have been so far extended as to violate natural
rights. The earth is given as a common stock for man to labor and
live on. If for the encouragement of industry we allow it to be
appropriated we must take care that other employment be provided to
those excluded from the appropriation. If we do not, the fundamental
right to labor the earth returns to the unemployed."
Could language be plainer or meaning clearer! "It is too soon
yet," continued Jefferson, "in our country to say that
every man who cannot find employment but who can find uncultivated
land shall be at liberty to cultivate it, paying a moderate rent.
But it is not too soon to provide by every possible means that as
few as possible shall be with out a little portion of land. The
landowners are the most Precious part of a state."
Jefferson thought legislators could not "invent too many
devices for subdividing" land holdings. Such a device was
invented and eloquently advocated by the most learned men of France
of that period, headed by Quesney, Turgot, Condorcet, Du pont and
Marabeau, with some of whom Jefferson was on terms of intimate
acquaintance. This idea recognized common rights in land by
appropriating ground rent through taxation. This rent of land they
called the produit net -- the net, or surplus, product of land.
Something of the same meaning the English political economist, John
Stuart Mill, later gave to the term "the unearned increment of
land." The French economists proposed in place of the many
taxes falling upon production and upon wealth, one tax large enough
to absorb the whole value of agricultural land. This tax, which they
called the impot unique, and which Marabeau, the elder, accounted a
discovery equal in importance to the invention of writing or the
displacement of barter by money, the Frenchmen wished to apply to
agricultural land, which they regarded as the only productive land.
To-day it is called the single tax, and would be applied to all land
that has value, regardless of improvements, whether the land be
agricultural, mineral, timber, grazing, urban or suburban.
In 1774 Turgot had been appointed Minister of Finance by Louis
XVI., and at once commenced to clear the way for application of the
impot unique, but the privileged nobility was yet dominant and
overthrew him. Had he succeeded in applying it he would have shifted
taxation from the backs of the impoverished and embruited masses to
the game preserves and other great enclosures, would have forced the
nobles to let go and would have opened to users vast quantities of
idle land. But the nobles made successful resistance to this policy.
Turgot stepped down and the social and political revolution was not
long deferred.
In the United States a distant adaptation of this idea occurred
under the Articles of Confederation, in the provision to obtain
national revenue through a tax on real estate and slaves.
Subsequently under the Constitution other sources of taxation were
provided, and most of the revenue came to be raised through a
tariff, which is a tax upon production.
Thus the idea of recognizing equal rights to land and of
penalizing the holding of land out of use, by treating rent as
common property and taking it through taxation, was abandoned. The
appropriator went ahead of the settler. All of the gigantic area
westward from the Atlantic seaboard to the Pacific has long since
been appropriated, or at least all of the accessible and valuable
land, and millions are deprived of their "fundamental right to
labor the earth." Can it now be said that; "from Savannah
to Portsmouth you will seldom meet a beggar?" Is there any part
of the country that does not reveal them? Our farming regions
contain thousands of tramps, and what were they originally but
laborers searching for work! Do not our cities contain multitudes
out of employment or in fear of it, and thereby reduced to that "dependence"
which "begets subservience and venality, suffocates the germ of
virtue and prepares fit tools for the designs of ambition."
Indeed, are not our people "piled upon one another, ... as in
Europe," and have they not as a consequence "become
corrupt, as in Europe?" Have we not one city with a larger
population than the thirteen States contained at the time the "Notes
on Virginia" were written (1781)? And so abjectly poor is a
large part of that city's population that one in every ten who die
each year in its principal and richest borough (Manhattan) is buried
in Potter's Field at public expense! Instead of our government
remaining "virtuous for many centuries," corruption like a
worm has eaten its way to the core. Political bosses control wards,
districts and States, and exert their baleful influences over
national councils, as completely as English politicians in
Jefferson's day ruled rotten boroughs and swayed the British
Parliament. The mass of the people themselves were in the beginning
virtuous. But they were reduced to dependence for subsistence, which
corrupted them. They found difficulty in getting a living and sold
or became neglectful of those priceless political rights for which
the fathers of the republic fought so hard and gloriously, and
established with such great labor.
Jefferson said, "Our governments will remain virtuous ... as
long as ... there are vacant lands in any part of America."
There are vacant lands, thousands upon tens and hundreds of
thousands of acres, agricultural lands, grazing lands, timber lands,
mineral lands, urban and suburban lands. These lands, if thrown
open, would not only engage the multitudes of hands now idle or
insufficiently occupied, but would support in comfort and luxury
many times the eighty millions of population this nation now
embraces. There is no difficulty about finding abundance of valuable
vacant land; the difficulty is to find it unappropriated. All the
great territory that is available for any use has been appropriated
and made private property, although vastly the greater part of it
lies idle and is held merely for speculation.
Obviously "the laws of property have been so far extended as
to violate natural right." And since by reason of this
appropriation and non-use of land large numbers of men are prevented
from finding their natural employment, and since "other
employment" is not provided them, does not "the
fundamental right to labor the earth" return to them, as
Jefferson said it must under such circumstances?
Yet how effect this fundamental right to-day with our complex
civilization? Not by dividing up the land and giving to each his
share. The simple, easy, just way would be to divide the rent, or
rather to take it for common uses, remitting all taxes that now fall
upon production and various forms of wealth, and concentrating
taxation on the value of land, regardless of improvements. This
single tax would tax out the land grabber. It would tax idle lands
into use. Millions upon millions of locked up acres of every kind
would be thrown open to the unemployed, there would be a compliance
with the "fundamental natural right to labor the earth,"
and our people would once again become, as Jefferson thought they
would for centuries remain, virtuous and happy.
[Henry George, Jr., New York, May 1904]