Thomas Malthus
An Essay on the
Principle of Population (1798, 1807)
THE GREAT AND
UNLOOKED FOR DISCOVERIES that have taken place of late years in natural
philosophy, the increasing diffusion of general knowledge from the extension of
the art of printing, the ardent and unshackled spirit of inquiry that prevails
throughout the lettered and even unlettered world, the new and extraordinary
lights that have been thrown on political subjects which dazzle and astonish
the understanding, and particularly that tremendous phenomenon in the political
horizon, the French Revolution, which, like a blazing comet, seems destined
either to inspire with fresh life and vigour, or to
scorch up and destroy the shrinking inhabitants of the earth, have all
concurred to lead many able men into the opinion that we were touching on a period
big with the most important changes, changes that would in some measure be
decisive of the future fate of mankind.
It
has been said that the great question is now at issue, whether man shall
henceforth start forwards with accelerated velocity towards illimitable, and
hitherto unconceived improvement, or be condemned to a
perpetual oscillation between happiness and misery, and after every effort
remain still at an immeasurable distance from the wished-for goal….
I have read some of the
speculations on the perfectibility of man and of society with great pleasure. I
have been warmed and delighted with the enchanting picture which they hold
forth. I ardently wish for
such happy
improvements. But I see great, and, to my understanding, unconquerable
difficulties in the way to them. These difficulties it is my present purpose to
state, declaring, at the same time, that so far from exulting in them, as a
cause of triumph over the friends of innovation, nothing would give me greater
pleasure than to see them completely removed….
I think I may
fairly make two postulata.
First,
That food is necessary to the existence of man.
Secondly,
That the passion between the sexes is necessary and
will remain nearly in its present state.
These
two laws, ever since we have had any knowledge of mankind, appear to have been
fixed laws of our nature, and, as we have not hitherto seen any alteration in
them, we have no right to conclude that they will ever cease to be what they
now are, without an immediate act of power in that Being who first arranged the
system of the universe, and for the advantage of his creatures, still executes,
according to fixed laws, all its various operations….
Assuming
then my postulata as granted, I say, that the power
of population is indefinitely greater than the power in the earth to produce subsistence
for man.
Population,
when unchecked, increases in a geometrical ratio. Subsistence increases only in
an arithmetical ratio. A slight acquaintance with numbers
will shew the immensity of the first power in
comparison of the second.
By
that law of our nature which makes food necessary to the life of man, the
effects of these two unequal powers must be kept equal.
This
implies a strong and constantly operating check on population from the
difficulty of subsistence. This difficulty must fall somewhere and must
necessarily be severely felt by a large portion of mankind.
Through
the animal and vegetable kingdoms, nature has scattered the seeds of life
abroad with the most profuse and liberal hand. She has been comparatively
sparing in the room and the nourishment necessary to rear them. The germs of
existence contained in this spot of earth, with ample food, and ample room to
expand in, would fill millions of worlds in the course of a few thousand years.
Necessity, that imperious all pervading law of
nature, restrains them within the prescribed bounds. The race of plants and the
race of animals shrink under this great restrictive law. And the race of man
cannot, by any efforts of reason, escape from it. Among plants and animals its
effects are waste of seed, sickness, and premature death. Among
mankind, misery and vice. The former, misery, is an absolutely necessary
consequence of it. Vice is a highly probable consequence, and we therefore see
it abundantly prevail, but it ought not, perhaps, to be called an absolutely necessary
consequence. The ordeal of virtue is to resist all temptation to evil.
This
natural inequality of the two powers of population and of production in the
earth, and that great law of our nature which must constantly keep their
effects equal, form the great difficulty that to me appears insurmountable in
the way to the perfectibility of society. All other arguments are of slight and
subordinate consideration in comparison of this. I see no way by which man can
escape from the weight of this law which pervades all animated nature. No
fancied equality, no agrarian regulations in their utmost extent, could remove the
pressure of it even for a single century. And it appears, therefore, to be
decisive against the possible existence of a society, all the members of which
should live in ease, happiness, and comparative leisure; and feel no anxiety
about providing the means of subsistence for themselves and families.
Consequently,
if the premises are just, the argument is conclusive against the perfectibility
of the mass of mankind….
The ultimate check to population appears then to be a want
of food, arising necessarily from the different ratios according to which
population and food increase. But this ultimate check is never the immediate
check, except in cases of actual famine.
I.II.2
The immediate check may be stated to
consist in all those customs, and all those diseases, which seem to be
generated by a scarcity of the means of subsistence; and all those causes,
independent of this scarcity, whether of a moral or physical nature, which tend
prematurely to weaken and destroy the human frame.
I.II.3
These checks to population, which
are constantly operating with more or less force in every society, and keep
down the number to the level of the means of subsistence, may be classed under
two general heads—the preventive, and the positive checks.
I.II.4
The preventive check, as far as it
is voluntary, is peculiar to man, and arises from that distinctive superiority
in his reasoning faculties, which enables him to calculate distant
consequences. The checks to the indefinite increase of plants and irrational
animals are all either positive, or, if preventive, involuntary. But man cannot
look around him, and see the distress which frequently presses upon those who
have large families; he cannot contemplate his present possessions or earnings,
which he now nearly consumes himself, and calculate the amount of each share,
when with very little addition they must be divided, perhaps, among seven or
eight, without feeling a doubt whether, if he follow the bent of his
inclinations, he may be able to support the offspring which he will probably
bring into the world….
If this restraint do[es] not produce vice, it is
undoubtedly the least evil that can arise from the principle of population….
When this restraint
produces vice, the evils which follow are but too conspicuous. A promiscuous
intercourse to such a degree as to prevent the birth of children,
seems to lower, in the most marked manner, the dignity of human nature. It
cannot be without its effect on men, and nothing can be more obvious than its
tendency to degrade the female character, and to destroy all its
most amiable and distinguishing characteristics. Add to which, that among those
unfortunate females, with which all great towns abound, more real distress and
aggravated misery are, perhaps, to be found, than in any other department of
human life….
The
positive checks to population are extremely various, and include every cause,
whether arising from vice or misery, which in any degree contributes to shorten
the natural duration of human life. Under this head, therefore, may be
enumerated all unwholesome occupations, severe labour
and exposure to the seasons, extreme poverty, bad nursing of children, great
towns, excesses of all kinds, the whole train of common diseases and epidemics,
wars, plague, and famine.
In
every country some of these checks are, with more or less force, in constant
operation; yet, notwithstanding their general prevalence, there are few states
in which there is not a constant effort in the population to increase beyond
the means of subsistence. This constant effort as constantly tends to subject
the lower classes of society to distress, and to prevent any great permanent
melioration of their condition.
I.II.16
These
effects, in the present state of society, seem to be produced in the following
manner. We will suppose the means of subsistence in any country just equal to
the easy support of its inhabitants. The constant effort towards population,
which is found to act even in the most vicious societies, increases the number
of people before the means of subsistence are increased. The food, therefore,
which before supported eleven millions, must now be
divided among eleven millions and a half. The poor consequently must live much
worse, and many of them be reduced to severe distress.
The number of labourers also being above the
proportion of work in the market, the price of labour
must tend to fall, while the price of provisions would at the same time tend to
rise. The labourer therefore must do more work, to
earn the same as he did before. During this season of distress, the
discouragements to marriage and the difficulty of rearing a family are so
great, that the progress of population is retarded. In the mean
time, the cheapness, of labour, the plenty of labourers, and the necessity of an increased industry among
them, encourage cultivators to employ more labour
upon their land, to turn up fresh soil, and to manure and improve more
completely what is already in tillage, till ultimately the means of subsistence
may become in the same proportion to the population, as at the period from
which we set out. The situation of the labourer being
then again tolerably comfortable, the restraints to population are in some
degree loosened; and, after a short period, the same retrograde and progressive
movements, with respect to happiness, are repeated….
To remedy the frequent
distresses of the poor, laws to enforce their relief have been instituted; and
in the establishment of a general system of this kind England has particularly
distinguished herself. But it is to be feared, that, though it may have alleviated
a little the intensity of individual misfortune, it has spread the evil over a
larger surface.
It is a subject often
started in conversation, and mentioned always as a matter of great surprise,
that, notwithstanding the immense sum which is annually collected for the poor
in this country, there is still so much distress among them. Some think that
the money must be embezzled for private use; others, that the churchwardens and
overseers consume the greatest part of it in feasting. All agree,
that somehow or other it must be very ill managed. In short, the fact, that
even before the late scarcities three millions were collected annually for the
poor, and yet that their distresses were not removed, is the subject of
continual astonishment. But a man who looks a little below the surface of
things would he much more astonished, if the fact were otherwise than it is
observed to be; or even if a collection universally of eighteen shillings in
the pound, instead of four, were materially to alter it.
Suppose, that by a
subscription of the rich the eighteen pence or two shillings, which men earn
now, were made up five shillings: it might be imagined, perhaps, that they
would then be able to live comfortably, and have a piece of meat every day for
their dinner. But this would be a very false conclusion. The transfer of three
additional shillings a day to each laborer would not increase the quantity of
meat in the country. There is not at present enough for all to have a moderate
share. What would then be the consequence? The competition among the buyers in
the market of meat would rapidly raise the price from eight pence or nine pence
to two or three shillings in the pound, and the commodity would not be divided
among many more than it is at present….
It might be said, perhaps,
that the increased number of purchasers in every article would give a spur to
productive industry, and that the whole produce of the island would be
increased. But the spur that these fancied riches would give to population
would more than counter-balance it; and the increased produce would have to be
divided among a more than proportionably increased
number of people.
A collection from the rich
of eighteen shillings in the pound, even if distributed in the most judicious
manner, would have an effect similar to that resulting from the supposition
which I have just made; and no possible sacrifices of the rich, particularly in
money, could for any time prevent the recurrence of distress among the lower members
of society, whoever they were. Great changes might indeed be made. The rich
might become poor, and some of the poor rich: but while the present proportion between
population and food continues, a part of the society must necessarily find it difficult
to support a family, and this difficulty will naturally fall on the least fortunate
members.
And it does not seem
entirely visionary to suppose that, if the true and permanent cause of poverty
were clearly explained and forcibly brought home to each man's bosom, it would
have some, and perhaps not an inconsiderable influence on his conduct; at least
the experiment has never yet been fairly tried. Almost every
thing, that has been hitherto
done for the poor, has tended, as if with solicitous care, to throw a
veil of obscurity over this subject, and to hide from them the true cause of
their poverty. When the wages of labour are hardly
sufficient to maintain two children, a man marries, and has five or six; he of
course finds himself miserably distressed. He accuses the insufficiency of the
price of labour to maintain a family. He accuses his
parish for their tardy and sparing fulfilment of
their obligation to assist him. He accuses the avarice of the rich, who suffer
him to want what they can so well spare. He accuses the partial and unjust
institutions of society, which have awarded him an inadequate share of the
produce of the earth. He accuses perhaps the dispensations of Providence, which
have assigned to him a place in society so beset with unavoidable distress and
dependence. In searching for objects of accusation, he never adverts to the
quarter from which his misfortunes originate. The last person that he would
think of accusing is himself, on whom in fact the principal blame lies, except
so far as he has been deceived by the higher classes of society….
We
are not however to relax our efforts in increasing the quantity of provisions,
but to combine another effort with it; that of keeping the population, when
once it has been overtaken, at such a distance behind, as to effect the relative
proportion which we desire; and thus unite the two grind desiderata, a
great actual population, and a state of society, in which abject poverty and
dependence are comparatively but little known; two objects which are far from
being incompatible.
IV.III.13
If
we be really serious in what appears to be the object of such general research,
the mode of essentially and permanently bettering the condition of the poor, we
must explain to them the true nature of their situation, and shew them, that the withholding of the supplies of labour is the only possible way of really raising its
price, and that they themselves, being the possessors of this commodity, have
alone the power to do this.