Keith Hart on Tue, 14 May 2002 23:09:36 +0200 (CEST) |
[Date Prev] [Date Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Date Index] [Thread Index]
<nettime> The barter origins of money |
>Money freed us from space and time, 5000 years before the internet. And it also freed us from the tyranny of barter< By now everyone knows where money came from. Our remote ancestors started swapping things they had too much of and others wanted. This barter ran into a bottleneck. It wasn't always easy to find someone who both wanted what you had and had what you wanted. For many natural products, the timing of supply and demand may simply not coincide. So some objects were valued not just for their consumption, but as tokens that most people would be willing to hold to swap with something else in future. It might be salt or ox-hides, but metals became the most common items to be used in this way. Gold, silver and their ilk were scarce, attractive, useful, durable, portable and divisible. They became the prototype of commodity money. The restrictions of barter were lifted as soon as sellers would regularly accept these money tokens, knowing that they could be exchanged at any time for whatever they wanted to buy. The money stuff succeeded because it was the supreme barter item, valued not only as a commodity in itself, but also as a ready means of exchange with everything else. This is a myth of course. What does it tell us? That money is a real thing and a scarce commodity. That it rose to prominence because it was more effective than existing practice. That it originated in barter, the timeless, 'primitive' form of exchange. What else does it tell us, about society, for instance? Well, almost nothing. When Adam Smith first told this story, in a book published at the same time as the Americans declared their independence, he claimed that the "Wealth of Nations" resulted from the slow working out of a deep-seated propensity in human nature, "to truck, barter and exchange one thing for another" (p.17). He went on, "It is common to all men, and to be found in no other race of animals, which seem to know neither this nor any other species of contracts. Nobody ever saw a dog make a fair and deliberate exchange of one bone for another with another dog. Nobody ever saw one animal by its gestures and natural cries signify to another, this is mine, that yours; I am willing to give this for that." He concluded that the distinctive human propensity to make exchange contracts probably originated in the evolution of reason and speech. Here too not much is said about the social conditions necessary for such behaviour. But at least Smith acknowledged a degree of social complexity in the transactions: the ideas of contract, private property (mine and yours) and equivalence (fairness), none of which could plausibly be traced to the non-human world. His latter-day successors have not shown similar modesty, routinely claiming that the markets of fin-de-siècle Wall Street are animated by impulses that are not just eternally human, but shared with the animals too, or at least the primates. Thus one recent exposé is called Monkey Business: Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle (Rolfe & Troob, 2000 -- every page number has the icon of a swinging monkey beneath, lest we forget). More seriously, Inventing Money is the story of Long-Term Capital Management, once the largest hedge fund in the world. Its founders had won Nobel prizes in economics for their contribution to financial theory and its failure in 1998 was as damaging to Wall Street as the East Asian crisis and the collapse of the Russian rouble in the same year. It begins with a section entitled, 'The origins of trading': "In chimpanzee communities, individuals exchange gifts (such as fruit or sexual favours) within a group to cement alliances, and punish those who attempt to cheat on such mutually beneficial relationships. Anthropologists believe that early humans started trading in much the same way. The word they use to describe this behaviour is 'reciprocity' and our personal relationships work on this basis." (Dunbar 2000:2-3). The author finds it necessary to claim that Wall Street culture in the 1990s is an example of human nature, a nature that we even share with the primates. That is to say, LCTM may have gone wrong, but the system of trading it exemplifies is as primeval as motherhood. This is one way of arguing that 'there is no alternative' to the free market (TINA was a favourite expression of Mrs. Thatcher's). If we can show that there are alternatives in history or just that the story on view is a defective representation of social reality, we thereby increase our choices. But first let us look more closely at what Dunbar actually said. There are some loaded words here that scholars normally have difficulty untangling, even with the benefit of dictionaries, never mind on the basis of observing chimps who don't talk at all -- communities, exchange, gifts, sexual favours, group, alliances, punish, cheat, mutually beneficial relationships, anthropologists believe, trading, reciprocity, personal relationships. That's a lot of metaphysics piled onto the observation that chimps sometimes hump each other and may pass on the odd bit of fruit. Notice also that trading is assimilated to politics and personal relations more generally, on the basis that "anthropologists believe" such human behaviour emerged "early". There are thus two claims being made: that the private property complex essential to trading is natural, therefore inevitable, and that it underpins most other important things in our lives. Adam Smith seems almost cautious in comparison. When he sought to demonstrate exchange without the use of money, he drew on reports of 'primitive' exchange from eighteenth century North America, describing natives bartering beaver for deer skins in what was no doubt a typical scenario from the fringes of the contemporary world fur trade. It is always unreliable to draw inferences about prehistory from present-day behaviour at the margins of civilization. It is one thing to imagine two noble savages swapping animal skins, quite another to work out how living people contrive such an exchange as an ongoing social practice. So, for our purposes, ethnographic descriptions of exchange in societies that have traditionally known neither states nor merchants nor even money offer material for thinking about how people might build their own economic communities now. This was after all once the main reason for doing anthropology. It was understood that states and capitalism were an unsatisfactory basis for society, the one being out-of-date and the other a recent anomaly, so that the study of stateless societies might offer clues to doing better in future. At the very least, by widening the scope of knowledge beyond our own situation, we are able to test claims about its universality. Traders are unusual people. We might say intuitively that something belongs to someone either because they made it or because they were given it and intend to use it. Traders own things they neither made nor will use, but they still claim the right to the value of their sale. At the same time, they are willing to give up their goods unconditionally in return for payment; and their customers then have the right to do what they like with what they have bought. This kind of behaviour is so commonplace in our world that it seems reasonable to think of it as eternal. It is in fact quite rare within the range of known human societies. What gives buyer and seller confidence that they each have exclusive rights to dispose of the commodity? It is the power of state law reinforcing their contract and usually offering similar support for the money involved. They can operate as isolated individuals only because of the huge social apparatus backing their exchange. Think of a situation where property is not backed up in this way. A group of nomads herd cattle in the dry savanna, far from the reach of any state. They can hold onto those cattle only if they mount effective resistance to other groups who might try to steal them. In such circumstances, an individual's property rights are a function of being a member of the group, all of whom have some claim on the cattle, since they all must defend them together. Trading the cattle would then be a far from simple matter. The same problem arises when a peasant tries to raise a loan on the security of family land. If he fails to pay back the loan, the land must be sold to the bank. But it is often unclear who actually owns the land and sometimes where it begins and ends. The citizens of advanced capitalist societies are not immune either. Other family members will have something to say if we try to sell off grandma's jewels. But this last example is not economically central, as the cattle and the land are. For us, most of the things we own were once bought for money through trade. If trading is a special institution, usually involving money, how else have people circulated objects between themselves? We have already encountered barter and the classical economists' assumption that money arose in order to simplify a cumbersome form of exchange. Barter is a spot transaction where two parties exchange goods taken to be equivalent. Each has what the other wants. It is obviously a difficult kind of transaction to pull off. The timing and the quantities must be right and you have to agree on what each is worth. Both sides must also have the right to dispose of their goods without involving others. There is a risk of conflict in any haggling. How much simpler for me to persuade you to give up your goods in return for money which you can then hold for purchases from others in different times and places. You can see their point. What is not convincing is that such a complicated arrangement as barter would be prevalent before people thought of inventing money. Barter is often found where markets using money prices are ineffective, usually because of a shortage of liquidity. Thus the Argentinians, in the crisis of their national currency, the peso, flock to barter clubs. People have a fair idea of what their goods are worth because of the co-existent markets they didn't have enough money to participate in. The North American fur trade in the eighteenth century would be another case in point. The ratio of beaver to deer skin was broadly set by the world market, but cash was scarce on the frontier. Nigeria and Brazil, being short of foreign currency, once arranged to barter oil for manufactures, knowing the price of each on world markets. This arrangement was closed down after Britain and France complained that their market share was being usurped by unfair trade. One of the fastest-growing sectors of trade today consists of commercial barter networks (b2b), allowing businesses, for a commission, to swap unsold goods directly between themselves. Barter does not require faith in any currency or other medium. What you see is what you get. More important, it allows trade to continue when the currency is lacking. It is cumbersome because both sides of the swap have to coincide. Apart from that, barter resembles normal trading quite closely, especially in its assumptions about property relations. It is easy enough to conceive of barter as markets without money. Perhaps this is what recommended it to the economists as a possible precursor of markets based on money. All that is missing is the money. Everything else is business as usual, especially the condition of exclusive private property in the goods traded. Barter is not much of an alternative then, just an inferior market mechanism. What other candidates are there for moving goods around? We have already been introduced to the idea of 'reciprocity' as a key concept in economic anthropology. The author of this idea thought that the original form of exchange was contained in the gift. Marcel Mauss was a co-operative socialist. He was therefore interested in how we make society where it did not exist before, as voluntary association, and especially in what keeps it going, the glue of social relations. Anthropologists had recently (in the 1920s) written about stateless societies with elaborate exchange systems conducted by means of giving rather than trading; and this recalled to his mind some practices of the ancient Celts, Indians and Romans. The free gift appears to be an act of pure selflessness, a bit like the ideal of parenthood. So how are social relations established or maintained through gifts? What binds us to these relations? The gift seemed to hold the key to this and it turned out not to be so free after all. Mauss found the roots of society itself in what he called the rule of reciprocity, which he took to be a human universal. What do we do when we would like to make a social connection? We offer a gift. Diplomats bring rare items from their homeland; boys offer flowers or chocolates on a date; middle class guests bring a bottle of wine; lonely travelers put themselves at the mercy of unknown hosts. What do they hope to achieve by this? Acceptance of the gift implies reciprocity, a return in future, at least the expectation of kindness. Mauss concluded that human beings were bound by giving in three stages. First, there was the obligation to give; second, the obligation to receive; and third, much the most important for his theory, the obligation to make a return, to reciprocate. I give to you so that you will give to me. Although market economy has evolved a long way from its origin in the gift, all forms of exchange share this fundamental logic. For Mauss, the essence of the gift was that it should not be reciprocated immediately. It would be impolite to return it at once, since this would constitute a canceling out of any interdependence created by the act of generosity and therefore no basis for projecting the relationship into the future. There is thus both a material and a spiritual aspect to the construction of relations over time. And these relations are highly personal. It is as if the gift contains a spirit compelling a return to its source. Mauss speculated that the origin of this institution lay in sacrifice. Out of fear and insecurity, human beings made gifts to the spirit powers who they imagined controlled the world, in the hope that they could compel concessions in return. The awful sense of that religious alienation then attached itself to gift-exchange between human beings. And, as anthropologists know all too well, the so-called free gift is never free, since it exercises some kind of hold over the recipient. If we don't return the gift in kind, then we must defer to the giver. Parents, the ultimate givers, ask for nothing but deference from their children. Whoever heard of parents and children being equal? The surprising fact of giving therefore is that it generates social inequality. We all know what to do if we wish to avoid becoming too closely involved with people through this kind of deferred exchange. We pay our own way, go Dutch, split the bill into equal parts. This is also the ethos of market exchange. I pay my money and I walk away free. Markets largely dispense with the unequal ethos of giving by making the exchange simultaneous and impersonal, removing time, person and spirit, in the end society itself, from the circulation of objects and money. But Mauss pointed out that markets are more than just spot transactions for cash. Many contracts have a time dimension. We work first and are paid our wages afterwards. We pay the rent before we occupy the lodgings. And of course the whole principle of loans and credit is buy now, pay later. We are constantly giving or receiving in ways that require us to project society into the future as the expectation of reciprocity, as contracts in other words. Mauss wanted the citizens of capitalist societies to see the logic of giving that still underpins our complex interdependence-- and not just at weddings or Christmas. Exchange is more than the interplay of private interests, more than the coercion of state laws. It is the way that human beings reconcile their individuality with belonging to others in society. If that is difficult to grasp, then perhaps the economic activities of remote South Sea islanders will make it clearer. In the Western Pacific, off the coast of New Guinea, a complex system of inter-island trade once flourished without benefit of merchants, markets or money and without centralized authority (states). The people shared a common culture with elaborate material needs that could not usually be met out of local resources alone. The islands were not self-sufficient: one would be rich in sago palms, another in stone or clay, while yet another may be noted for a particular kind of fish. How could these specialist items circulate between islands in the absence of any guaranteed peace? Long-distance trips are fraught with danger, making the unrestrained competition of commercial barter too risky. So an alternative method evolved, based on the exchange of valuables between leaders of expeditions and their hosts. "Kula" is both the practice of exchanging these valuables and the name for the tokens themselves. The leaders emphasize an ethos of generosity in handing over these valuables as gifts to their partners in other islands. They deny that it has anything to do with ordinary commerce. Nevertheless, a lot of mundane trading goes on under the umbrella of these kula partnerships. It works like this. Very few communities in the region have official chiefs. Instead there is an unstable pattern of political leadership in which "big men" (leaders without office) compete for followers. If people from island A want to acquire a commodity x from island B, they organize a canoe expedition under the leadership of a big man who has a longstanding partnership with a big man in island B. They take with them kula valuables, of which there are two types: red necklaces and white armshells. These valuables are named and the history of transactions involving the more famous ones is well known. Big men vie with each other to attract the best pieces to themselves. On this occasion the big man from A will set out carrying, say, red necklaces only and no other commodities. The canoes arrive empty-handed except for the necklaces. The big men from A and B will discuss which white armshell the latter may bring the next time he visits A. In the meantime their followers strike up partnerships, make promises of valuable exchange and load up the canoes with commodity x. They may also haggle over other individual items, safe in the peace secured by their leaders. The canoes return home and, when an expedition from B arrives some time later, carrying white armshells, the process is enacted again in reverse, with commodity y being loaded into B's canoes. The relationship between gift and barter as modes of exchange is perhaps revealed more clearly in another example. Kula is a ceremonious exchange of personal ornaments as gifts. "Gimwali" is an undignified haggling, individual barter, "trade pure and simple".. The contrast between them is as great as that between generosity and selfishness. On one of the bigger islands, coastal villagers exchange fish for yams or vegetables with landlocked villages, allowing a measure of specialization between fishing and agriculture. Sometimes the exchange takes the form of gift exchange between community leaders ("wasi", following the pattern of kula); where there is no such relationship, individual barter at the household level ("vava", like gimwali) is normal. So, whereas in one case a big man hands over a job lot of fish to his counterpart, who rations them out among his followers and organizes a future return of yams, in the other individuals wander from house to house trying to get a reasonable deal for what they have to sell. The first is marked by ceremony, separation of the moments of exchange and conflict avoidance; the second by informality, simultaneous exchange and haggling. Thus one is a temporary framework erected in the absence of society, implying high social distance and weak political order. The other is an atomized interaction reflecting a relatively strong social order. In one case, society has to be made visible by means of the gift; in the other, it is the invisible background to barter, but a necessary presence nonetheless. Wasi and vava are thus different means of securing the same ends, the circulation of commodities between independent communities. Individual barter is favoured when the general peace is such as to allow commodities to be exchanged at their equivalent values; ceremonial gift-exchange is a temporary construct of peace based on alliance between leaders of communities at war, with political redistribution of commodities an inevitable corollary. A breakdown of political relations between coastal and inland villages might occasion a shift from vava to the more formal wasi. Equally, unpredictable fluctuations in supply (failure of the fish catch or a yam glut) might undermine the price-setting mechanism of barter and require the intervention of big men as rationing or stockpiling agents. Exchange thus oscillates between two poles in response to imperfections both of the political order and of supply and demand. Normal conditions grant low-level agents considerable autonomy which is superseded by high-level regulation when the environment is especially uncertain. The reputation of big men hangs on their generosity, so they affect to despise ordinary commerce. But we should not rely on their rhetoric to deny the complementarity of gift and barter in practice. Perhaps we can now take stock of the place that gift and barter occupy in the conventional myths of market origins. Markets and barter alike depend on an evolved social order which becomes invisible the more effective it is. Each depends on private property and tolerance of a degree of individual conflict in exchange. The essential equality of the parties to a given trade, reflected in the assumed equivalence of the money and commodities exchanged, is the result of a complex evolution, not a simple expression of human nature. At another level, a contrast can be made between markets and gift-exchange in which "we" moderns are selfish individuals, whereas "they", the primitives, serve only the interests of their communities. By labeling one practice primitive and the other modern, we imply that the direction of social evolution is, however regrettably, towards economic individualism. Mauss profoundly rejected this argument and so do I. First of all, market economy rests on social institutions (including state-administered laws) as well as on individual interests. Then too, the gift still flourishes in pockets of capitalist societies. Equally, systems like the kula reveal a rampant egotism on the part of competing leaders which hardly squares with the stereotype of primitive communism. All of this no doubt sounds pretty esoteric -- South Sea islanders and defunct Scottish philosophers. But the conventional wisdom about money, markets and their alternatives perpetuates a blindness to what matters in economic life that can have devastating consequences. The Cold War was fought in the name of the State and the Market. One side was society centralized a single agent, the other society dissolved into individual atoms. The United States, which operates the largest collective in the world, the Pentagon, claimed to represent 'free enterprise' against the 'Evil Empire'. Reagan and Thatcher denigrated the state while assiduously building up its strength. No wonder it was impossible to conceive of society as both an economic association of individuals and a political order. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, Eastern Europe and soon afterwards Russia renounced state socialism. Hooray, say most of us. The obvious candidate as a replacement was liberal democracy and its twin the free market economy. After a decade of neo-liberal conservatism in the West, this recipe was in the ascendant. Privatization was the slogan of the hour. The former socialist societies actually paid consultants to help them privatize their economies. The notion that western market economies rested on a complex history of political institutions, like their states, for instance (whisper the word), had no place in liberal rhetoric. All the effort went into establishing private property and supplying the money needed to lubricate the markets. Deregulation was the order of the day, not the erection of a suitable political framework. The result we all know. The state was weakened beyond repair; the economy went into a tailspin; and the consequent void was filled by gangsters. These criminal mafias bear comparison with the big man societies who make up the kula ring. Without a framework of lawful institutions, commerce could only take place under the umbrella of a temporary framework erected by powerful individuals and their gangs. Violence was everywhere close to the surface. Contracts were personal and the gift economy took its most sadistic form ("He made me an offer I couldn't refuse"). This is what feudal Europe was like before the Italian Renaissance invented modern states, law and bureaucracy capable of guaranteeing an impersonal order necessary for commerce, or what Emile Durkheim called "the non-contractual element of the contract". If we remain unaware of this history, if the social infrastructure of markets i s invisible and unheeded, how can we prevent ourselves from sinking back into barbarism, as we cheerfully encouraged the Russians to, after they lost the Cold War? These questions are central if we set about building economic community where it did not exist before. If anything has emerged from the above, it is that both the individual and the collective are indispensable to economic order, both the personal and the impersonal. It is a profound error to assume that the superficial individualism of commerce was either primeval (the barter origins of money) or has evolved from its antithesis in the gift. Only the strongest of social infrastructures operate so effectively that they are invisible, thereby allowing the actions of many individuals to flourish. When they are weak, a few leaders assume personal responsibility for general interests. But at all times, it is the unity of individual and collective interests that counts. We have to pay attention to both sides, not oppose them in some fruitless re-enactment of twentieth century ideology. Keith Hart # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net