The control of the production of wealth is the control of
human life itself.
Hilaire Belloc
Most planners who have seriously considered the practical
aspects of their task have little doubt that a directed economy
must be run on more or less dictatorial lines. That the complex
system of interrelated activities, if it is to be consciously directed
at all, must be directed by a single staff of experts, and that
ultimate responsibility and power must rest in the hands of a
commander-in-chief, whose actions must not be fettered by
democratic procedure, is too obvious a consequence of under-
lying ideas of central planning not to command fairly general
assent. The consolation our planners offer us is that this authori-
tarian direction will apply "only" to economic matters. One of
the most prominent American planners, Mr. Stuart Chase, assures
us, for instance, that in a planned society "political democracy
can remain if it confines itself to all but economic matter". Such
assurances are usually accompanied by the suggestion that by
giving up freedom in what are, or ought to be, the less import-
ant aspects of our lives, we shall obtain greater freedom in the
pursuit of higher values. On this ground people who abhor the
idea of a political dictatorship often clamour for a dictator in
the economic field.
The arguments used appeal to our best instincts and often
attract the finest minds. If planning really did free us from the
less important cares and so made it easier to render our existence
one of plain living and high thinking, who would wish to
belittle such an ideal? If our economic activities really concerned
only the inferior or even more sordid sides of life, of course we
ought to endeavour by all means to find a way to relieve our-
selves from the excessive care for material ends, and, leaving
them to be cared for by some piece of utilitarian machinery, set
our minds free for the higher things of life.
Unfortunately the assurance people derive from this belief
that the power which is exercised over economic life is a power
over matters of secondary importance only, and which makes
them take lightly the threat to the freedom of our economic
pursuits, is altogether unwarranted. It is largely a consequence of
the erroneous belief that there are purely economic ends separ-
ate from the other ends of life. Yet, apart from the pathological
case of the miser, there is no such thing. The ultimate ends of the
activities of reasonable beings are never economic. Strictly speak-
ing there is no "economic motive" but only economic factors
conditioning our striving for other ends. What in ordinary
language is misleadingly called the "economic motive"
means merely the desire for general opportunity, the desire for
power to achieve unspecified ends. 1 If we strive for money it is
because it offers us the widest choice in enjoying the fruits of
our efforts. Because in modern society it is through the limita-
tion of our money incomes that we are made to feel the restric-
tions which our relative poverty still imposes upon us, many
have come to hate money as the symbol of these restrictions. But
this is to mistake for the cause the medium through which a
force makes itself felt. It would be much truer to say that money
is one of the greatest instruments of freedom ever invented by
man. It is money which in existing society opens an astounding
range of choice to the poor man, a range greater than that which
not many generations ago was open to the wealthy. We shall
better understand the significance of this service of money if we
consider what it would really mean if, as so many socialists
characteristically propose, the "pecuniary motive" were largely
displaced by "non-economic incentives". If all rewards, instead
of being offered in money, were offered in the form of public
distinctions or privileges, positions of power over other men, or
better housing or better food, opportunities for travel or educa-
tion, this would merely mean that the recipient would no longer
be allowed to choose, and that, whoever fixed the reward,
determined not only its size but also the particular form in
which it should be enjoyed.