The argument of the volume
Of all the prices in the table, rent seems the least mysterious. It is what a tenant pays a landlord, what is paid for the use of a thing one does not own — an acre, a building, a stretch of spectrum. The payment is visible, the arrangement ancient, and nothing about it appears to need explaining. And yet rent was the very first price the discipline took apart, and the taking-apart produced a result so contrary to common sense that it remains, two centuries later, among the hardest things in economics to hold steadily in view.
David Ricardo's discovery was that rent is not a cause but a consequence. The landlord does not make corn dear by charging a high rent; corn is made dear by the cost of growing it on the worst land in use, and the rent is merely the surplus that the better land throws off at that price, competed away from the farmer and into the landlord's hand. Rent, on this account, is price-determined, not price-determining — a residual, a surplus to ownership, paid for no contribution the owner makes. The fertility of the soil is, in Ricardo's phrase, a free gift of nature; the rent is the charge levied for access to a gift, made dear only by its scarcity.
The volume's argument is that this idea does not stay on the farm, and does not stay morally neutral. Freed from the land, rent becomes the name for any payment above what is needed to call a factor into use — the surplus that scarcity, of any kind, hands to whoever owns the scarce thing; and scarcity, the volume finds, is as often manufactured as found. From the unearned increment that Henry George proposed to tax, through the resources that are burned in the mere chase to capture a rent, to the patents and platforms and protected positions of the present economy, the concept darkens as it generalizes. The same surplus falls to the owner of capital, whose interest a later plate reads not as a wage for waiting but as the rent of capital's scarcity — and which, with Keynes, it imagines undone by abundance, the rentier painlessly retired as capital grows too plentiful to command a return. What began as the gift of the soil becomes a toll on position — and the question the volume cannot avoid is how much of what any of us is paid is a return to what we do, and how much a return to what we merely hold.
The argument remains open. What follows is an attempt to fix its exact edges.
The twelve plates of this volume
- i The Cornin print Ricardo's differential rent: the surplus of the better land over the no-rent margin, and the inversion that rent is price-determined, not price-determining. Read the plate →
- ii The Orderin print von Thünen and the location of rent; the isolated state, and rent as the saving in carriage that the better-placed land commands. Read the plate →
- iii The Excessin print economic rent generalized: the payment to any factor above the least that would keep it in its use — the surplus that does no work. Read the plate →
- iv The Quasiin print Marshall's quasi-rent; the return to what is fixed for a while but not forever, and the rent that time alone creates and erases. Read the plate →
- v The Singlein print Henry George and the unearned increment: the land-value tax, and the one levy that, because land cannot flee, takes without distorting. Read the plate →
- vi The Capturein print rent-seeking: the resources spent to win a rent rather than to make a thing, and the discovery that the chase can waste the whole of it. Read the plate →
- vii The Scarcityin print the sources of rent; natural fixity set against contrived restriction, and the monopolist's rent compared with the landlord's. Read the plate →
- viii The Positionin print the return to a chokepoint — land, network, patent, brand, license — and how much of modern income is a toll on position rather than a reward for product. Read the plate →
- ix The Rentierin print Keynes and the euthanasia of the rentier; the functionless owner, and the politics of those who live by what they hold. Read the plate →
- x The Groundin print land's return to the center; housing, the price of place, and the share of modern wealth that is simply ground. Read the plate →
- xi The Licensein print the modern proliferation of permission; occupational licenses and certificates, and the small artificial scarcities that ring-fence a wage. Read the plate →
- xii The Tollin print rents and the distribution of income; the part of profit, and of inequality, that is not reward but a sum collected. Read the plate →
In closing
This volume began with the most ordinary of prices and found in it the discipline's first and most durable act of disenchantment. Rent looks like a payment for the use of a thing; it is, the economists discovered, a surplus that scarcity hands to ownership, paid for no service the owner renders. Ricardo found it in the difference between good land and bad, and saw that its causation ran backward — that the rent followed the price, and not the price the rent. The plates in print followed that surplus off the land and across the whole of the economy.
Freed from the soil, rent proved to be the name for any payment beyond what a factor needs to stay in its use — the part of an income that does no work, and could be taken without changing anything. Henry George saw the moral of it and the efficiency of it at once: the unearned increment is both the income that least deserves to be received and the one that can most harmlessly be taxed, because what is fixed cannot flee a levy. Keynes carried the same suspicion to capital, reading the interest the rentier collects as the rent of a scarcity rather than a wage for waiting, and imagining it euthanized by abundance — the functionless owner retired not by force but by the glut of the very thing he hoards. But the modern theory of rent is darker than George's, for it found that scarcity is not only inherited but manufactured — that men will spend, in the mere contest to capture a rent, up to the whole of what it is worth, and that a society can come to organize its best talents around dividing a thing rather than making it. And at the volume's center stands the discovery that the chokepoint has become the characteristic source of great wealth: that a growing share of what is counted as earnings — the platform's toll, the patent's premium, the protected position's return — is rent, a payment for owning the spot that others must pass through.
Read beside the founding volume, the result completes a single thought. The Wage showed that a price is part worth and part power — that what a worker is paid measures, in some part, not his contribution but the strength of the hand across the table from him. This volume gives that second part its name. The power-component of any price is an economic rent; the surplus the monopsonist keeps and the toll the platform charges are one phenomenon, the capture of a scarcity by the side that owns it. Together the two volumes propose that the distribution of income is, to a degree the orthodox theory was built not to see, a map of who owns the scarce positions — and that the work of an honest economics is to hold apart, in every income, the part earned by making from the part merely collected by holding. The rent is the table's oldest lesson and its sharpest: that a price commonly taken for a fact of nature is the residue of a contest over who controls what cannot be had elsewhere.
If rent is paid for a position and not for a contribution, then beneath every payment made for the use of something scarce there waits the one question its owner would rather not hear: paid, exactly, for what?