Chapter 10—Monopoly and Competition
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Chapter 10—Monopoly and
Competition (continued)
E.
Some Problems in the Theory of the Illusion of Monopoly Price
(1) Location Monopoly
It might be objected that in the case of a location monopoly,
a monopoly price can be distinguished from a
competitive price on a free market. Let us consider the case of cement.
There are cement consumers, say, who live in Rochester. A cement firm
in Rochester could competitively charge a mill price of X
gold grams per ton. The nearest competitor is stationed in Albany, and
freight costs from Albany to Rochester are three gold grams per ton.
The Rochester firm is then able to increase its price to obtain (X + 2)
gold grams per ton from Rochester consumers. Does its locational
advantage not confer upon it a monopoly, and is not this higher price a
monopoly price?
First, as we have seen above, the good that we must consider is the
good in the hands of the consumers. The Rochester firm is superior
locationally for the Rochester market; the fact that the Albany firm
cannot compete is not to be blamed on the Rochester firm. Location is
also a factor of production. Furthermore, another firm could,
if it wished, set itself up in Rochester to compete.
Let us, however, be generous to the location-monopoly theorists and
grant that, in a sense (definition 1) this monopoly is enjoyed by all
individual sellers of any good or service. This is due to the eternal
law of human action, and indeed of all matter, that only one
thing can be in one place at one time. The retail grocer on
Fifth Street enjoys a monopoly of the sale of groceries for
that street; the grocer on Fourth Street enjoys a monopoly of
grocery service for his street, etc. In the case of
stores which all cluster together in the same block, say radio stores,
there are still a few feet of sidewalk over which each owner of a radio
store exercises a location monopoly. Location is as specific to a firm
or plant as ability is to a person.
Whether this element of location takes on any importance in the market
depends on the configuration of consumer demand and on which policy is
most profitable for each seller in the concrete case. In some
cases a grocer, for example, can charge higher prices for his goods
than another because of his monopoly of the block. In that case, his
monopoly over the good “eggs available on Fifth
Street” has taken on such a significance for the
consumers in his block that he can charge them a higher price
than the Fourth Street grocer and still retain their patronage. In
other cases, he cannot do so because the bulk of his customers will
desert him for the neighboring grocer if the latter’s prices
are lower.
Now, a good is homogeneous if consumers evaluate its units in the same
way. If that condition holds, its units will be sold for a uniform
price on the market (or rapidly tend to be sold at a uniform price).
If, now, various grocers must adhere to a uniform price, then there is
no location monopoly.
But what of the case where the Fifth Street grocer can
charge a higher price than his competitor? Do we not have here a clear
case of an identifiable monopoly price? Can we not say that the Fifth
Street grocer who can charge more than his competitor for the same
goods has found that the demand curve for his products is inelastic for
a certain range above the “competitive price,” the
competitive price being taken as that equal to the price charged by his
neighbor? Can we not say this even though we recognize that there is no
“infringement on consumers’ sovereignty”
in this action, since it is due to the specific tastes of his consuming
customers? The answer is an emphatic No.
The reason is that the economist can never equate a good with some
physical substance. A good, we remember, is a
quantity of a thing divisible into a supply of homogeneous units. And
this homogeneity, we repeat, must be in the minds of the consuming
public, not in its physical composition. If a
malted milk consumed at a luncheonette is the same good in the minds of
consumers as the malted at a fashionable restaurant, then the
price of the malted will be the same in both places. On the other hand,
we have seen that the consumer buys not only the physical good, but
all attributes of a thing, including its name, the
wrappings, and the atmosphere in which it is consumed. If most of the
consumers differentiate sufficiently between food consumed in the
restaurant and food consumed at the luncheonette, so that a higher
price can be charged in one case than in the other, then the food is
a different good in each case. A malted consumed in the restaurant
becomes, for a significant body of consumers, a different
good from a malted consumed at the luncheonette. The same
situation obtains for brand names, even in those situations where a
minority of the consumers do regard several brands as
“actually” the same good. As long as the bulk of
the consumers regard them as different goods, then they are
different goods, and their prices will differ. Similarly, goods may
differ physically, but as long as they are regarded by consumers as the
same, they are the same good.
The same analysis applies to the case of location. Where the Fifth
Street consumers regard groceries at Fifth Street as a
significantly better good than groceries at Fourth Street, so
that they are willing to pay more rather than walk the extra distance, then
the two will become different goods. In the case of location,
there will always be a tendency for the two to be different goods, but
very often this will not be significant on the market. For a
consumer may and almost always will prefer groceries available
on this block to groceries available on the next block, but often this
preference will not be enough to overcome any
higher price for the former goods. If the bulk of the consumers shift
to the latter good at a higher price, the two, on the market,
will be the same good. And it is action on the market, real
action, that we are interested in, not the nonsignificant pure
valuations by themselves. In praxeology we are interested only in
preferences that result in, and are therefore demonstrated by, real
choices, not in the preferences themselves.
A good cannot be independently established as such apart from consumer
preference on the market. Groceries on Fifth Street may be higher in
price than groceries on Fourth Street to the Fifth Street consumers. If
so, it will be because the former is a different good to the consumers.
In the same way, Rochester cement may cost more than Albany cement in Albany
to Rochester consumers, but the two are different goods by
virtue of their difference in location. And there is no way of
determining whether or not the price in Rochester or on Fifth Street is
a “monopoly price” or a “competitive
price” or of determining what the
“competitive price” might be. It certainly
could not be the price charged by the other firm elsewhere, since these
prices are really for two different goods. There is no theoretical
criterion by which we can distinguish simple locational income to sites
from alleged “monopoly” income to sites.
There is another reason for abandoning any theory of locational
monopoly price. If all sites are purely specific in locational value,
there is no sense to the statement that they earn a “monopoly
rent.” For monopoly price, according to the theory, can be
established only by selling less of a good and thus commanding a higher
price. But all locational properties of a site
differ in quality because they differ in location, and
therefore there can be no restriction of sales to part
of a site. Either a site is in production, or it is idle. But the idle
sites necessarily differ in location from the sites in use and are
therefore idle because their value productivity is
inferior. They are idle because they are submarginal, not
because they are “monopolistically” withheld parts
of a certain homogeneous supply.
The locational-monopoly-price theorist, then, is refuted
whichever way he turns. If he takes a limited view of
locational monopoly (in the sense of definition 1) and
confines it to such examples as Rochester vs. Albany, he can
never establish a criterion for monopoly price, for another firm can
enter Rochester, either actually or potentially, to bid away any
locational profit that the first firm may earn. His prices cannot be
compared with those of his competitors, because they are selling
different goods. If the theorist takes an extensive view of locational
monopoly—which would take into consideration the fact that
every location necessarily differs from every
other—and compares locations a few feet apart, then there is
no sense at all in talking of “monopoly price,” for
(a) the price of a product at one location cannot be
precisely compared with another, because they are different goods, and (b)
each site is different in locational quality, and therefore no site can
be conceptually split up into different homogeneous
units—some to be sold and some to be withheld from the
market. Each site is a unit in itself. But such a splitting is
essential for the establishment of a monopoly-price theory.
(2) Natural Monopoly
A favorite target of the critics of “monopoly” is
the so-called “natural monopoly” or
“public utility,” where “competition is
naturally not feasible.” A typically cited case is the water
supply of a city. It is supposed to be technologically feasible for
only one water company to exist for serving a city. No other firms are
therefore able to compete, and special interference is alleged
to be necessary to curb monopoly pricing by this utility.
In the first place, such a “limited-space monopoly”
is just one case in which only one firm in a field is profitable. How
many firms will be profitable in any line of production is an
institutional question and depends on such concrete data as the degree
of consumer demand, the type of product sold, the physical
productivity of the processes, the supply and pricing of
factors, the forecasting of entrepreneurs, etc. Spatial limitations may
be unimportant; as in the case of the grocers, the spatial
limits may allow only the narrowest of
“monopolies”—the monopoly over the
portion of sidewalk owned by the seller. On the other hand,
conditions may be such that only one firm may be feasible in
the industry. But we have seen that this is irrelevant;
“monopoly” is a meaningless appellation, unless
monopoly price is achieved, and, once again, there is no way of
determining whether the price charged for the good is a
“monopoly price” or not. And this applies to all
circumstances, including a nation-wide telephone firm, a local
water company, or an outstanding baseball player. All these persons or
firms will be “monopolies” within their
“industry.” And in all these cases, the dichotomy
between “monopoly price” and “competitive
price” is still an illusory one. Furthermore, there are no
rational grounds by which we can preserve a separate sphere for
“public utilities” and subject them to special
harassment. A “public utility” industry does not
differ conceptually from any other, and there is no nonarbitrary method
by which we can designate certain industries to be “clothed
in the public interest,” while others are not.
In no case, therefore, on the free market can a “monopoly
price” be conceptually distinguished from a
“competitive price.” All prices
on the free market are competitive.
4.
Labor Unions
A.
Restrictionist Pricing of Labor
It might be asserted that labor unions, in exacting higher wage rates
on the free market, are achieving identifiable monopoly prices. For
here two identifiable contrasting situations exist:
(a) where individuals sell their labor themselves;
and (b) where they are members of labor unions which
bargain on their labor for them. Furthermore, it is clear that while
cartels, to be successful, must be economically more efficient in
serving the consumer, no such justification can be found for unions.
Since it is always the individual laborer who works, and since
efficiency in organization comes from management hired for the
task, forming unions never improves the
productivity of an individual’s work.
It is true that a union provides an identifiable situation.
However, it is not true that a union wage
rate could ever be called a monopoly price.
For the characteristic of
the monopolist is precisely that he monopolizes a factor or commodity.
To obtain a monopoly price, he sells only part of his supply and withholds
selling the other part, because selling a lower quantity raises the
price on an inelastic demand curve. It is the unique
characteristic of labor in a free society, however, that it cannot
be monopolized. Each individual is a self-owner and cannot be
owned by another individual or group. Therefore, in the labor field, no
one man or group can own the total supply and withhold part of it from
the market. Each man owns himself.
Let us call the total supply of a monopolist’s product P.
When he withholds W units in order to obtain a
monopoly for P – W, the increased revenue
he obtains from P – W must more than
compensate him for the loss of revenue he suffers from not selling W.
A monopolist’s action is always limited by loss of revenue
from the withheld supply. But in the case of labor unions, this
limitation does not apply. Since each man owns himself, the
“withheld” suppliers are different people
from the ones getting the increased income. If a union, in one way or
another, achieves a higher price than its members could command by
individual sales, its action is not checked by the
loss of revenue suffered by the “withheld”
laborers. If a union achieves a higher wage, some laborers are earning
a higher price, while others are excluded from the market and lose the
revenue they would have obtained. Such a higher price (wage) is called
a restrictionist price.
A restrictionist price, by any sensible criterion, is
“worse” than a “monopoly
price.” Since the restrictionist union does not have to worry
about the laborers who are excluded and suffers no revenue loss from
such exclusion, restrictionist action is not curbed by the elasticity
of the demand curve for labor. For unions need only maximize the net
income of the working members, or, indeed, of the
union bureaucracy itself.
How may a union achieve a restrictionist price? Figure 69 will
illustrate. The demand curve is the demand curve for a labor factor in
an industry. DD is the demand curve for the labor
in the industry; SS, the supply curve. Both curves
relate the number of laborers on the horizontal axis and the wage rate
on the vertical. At the market equilibrium, the supply of
laborers offering their work in the industry will intersect the demand
for the labor, at number of laborers 0A and wage
rate AB. Now, suppose that a union enters this
labor market, and the union decides that its members will insist on a
higher wage than AB, say 0W.
What unions do, in fact, is to insist upon a certain wage rate as a
minimum below which they will not work in that industry.

The effect of the union decision is to shift the supply curve of labor
available to the industry to a horizontal one at the wage rate WW',
rising after it joins the SS curve
at E. The minimum reserve price of
labor for this industry has risen, and has risen for all laborers, so
that there are no longer laborers with lower reserve prices who would
be willing to work for less. With a supply curve changing to WE, the new equilibrium point will be C instead of B.
The number of workers hired will be WC,
and the wage rate 0W.
The union has thus achieved a restrictionist wage rate. It can be
achieved regardless of the shape of the demand curve, granting
only that it is falling. The demand curve falls because of the
diminishing DMVP of a factor and the diminishing marginal utility of
the product. But a sacrifice has been made—specifically,
there are now fewer workers hired, by an amount CF.
What happens to them? These discharged
workers are the main losers in this procedure. Since the union
represents the remaining workers, it does not have to concern itself,
as the monopolist would, with the fate of these workers. At best, they
must shift (being a nonspecific factor, they can do so) to
some other—nonunionized—industry. The
trouble is, however, that the workers are less suited to the new
industry. Their having been in the now unionized industry implies that
their DMVP in that industry was higher than in the industry to which
they must shift; consequently, their wage rate is now lower. Moreover,
their entry into the other industry depresses the wage rates
of the workers already there.
Consequently, at best, a union can achieve a higher,
restrictionist wage rate for its members only at the expense
of lowering the wage rates of all other workers in the
economy. Production efforts in the economy are also distorted.
But, in addition, the wider the scope of union activity and
restrictionism in the economy, the more difficult it will be for
workers to shift their locations and occupations to find nonunionized
havens in which to work. And more and more the tendency will be for the
displaced workers to remain permanently or quasi-permanently
unemployed, eager to work but unable to find nonrestricted
opportunities for employment. The greater the scope of
unionism, the more a permanent mass of unemployment will tend to
develop.
Unions try as hard as they can to plug all the
“loop-holes” of nonunionism, to close all the
escape hatches where the dispossessed workmen can find jobs.
This is termed “ending the unfair competition of
nonunion, low-wage labor.” A universal union control and
restrictionism would mean permanent mass unemployment, growing
ever greater in proportion to the degree that the union exacted its
restrictions.
It is a common myth that only the old-style “craft”
unions, which deliberately restrict their occupational group to highly
skilled trades with relatively few numbers, can restrict the
supply of labor. They often maintain stringent standards of
membership and numerous devices to cut down the supply of
labor entering the trade. This direct restriction of supply doubtless
makes it easier to obtain higher wage rates for the remaining workers.
But it is highly misleading to believe that the newer-style
“industrial” unions do not restrict supply. The
fact that they welcome as many members in an industry as possible
cloaks their restrictionist policy. The crucial point is that the
unions insist on a minimum wage rate higher than what would be achieved
for the given labor factor without the union. By doing so, as we saw in
Figure 69, they necessarily cut the number of men whom the employer can
hire. Ergo, the consequence of their
policy is to restrict the supply of labor, while at the same
time they can piously maintain that they are inclusive and democratic,
in contrast to the snobbish “aristocrats” of craft
unionism.
In fact, the consequences of industrial unionism are more
devastating than those of craft unionism. For the craft
unions, being small in scope, displace and lower the wages of
only a few workers. The industrial unions, larger and more inclusive,
depress wages and displace workers on a large scale and, what
is even more important, can cause permanent mass unemployment.
There is another reason why an openly restrictionist union will cause
less unemployment than a more liberal one. For the union which
restricts its membership serves open warning on workers hoping to enter
the industry that they are barred from joining the union. As a result,
they will swiftly look elsewhere, where jobs can be found. Suppose the
union is democratic, however, and open to all. Then, its activities can
be described by the above figure; it has achieved a higher wage rate 0W
for its working members. But such a wage rate, as can be seen on the SS
curve, attracts more workers into the industry. In other words, while 0A
workers were hired by the industry at the previous (nonunion)
wage AB, now the union has won a wage 0W.
At this wage, only WC workers can be employed in
the industry. But this wage also attracts more
workers than before, namely WE. As a result,
instead of only CF workers becoming unemployed from
the union’s restrictionist wage rate, more—CE—will
be unemployed in the industry.
Thus, an open union does not have the one virtue of the closed
union—rapid repulsion of the displaced workers from the
unionized industry. Instead, it attracts even more workers into
the industry, thus aggravating and swelling the amount of
unemployment. With market signals distorted, it will take a
much longer time for workers to realize that no jobs are available in
the industry. The larger the scope of open unions in the
economy, and the greater the differential between their restrictionist
wage rates and the market wage rates, the more dangerous will the
unemployment problem become.
The unemployment and the misemployment of labor, caused by
restrictionist wage rates need not always be directly visible. Thus, an
industry might be particularly profitable and prosperous,
either as a result of a rise in consumer demand for the
product or from a cost-lowering innovation in the productive
process. In the absence of unions, the industry would expand and hire
more workers in response to the new market conditions. But if a union
imposes a restrictionist wage rate, it may not cause the unemployment
of any current workers in the industry; it may, instead, simply prevent
the industry from expanding in response to the requirements of consumer
demand and the conditions of the market. Here, in short, the union
destroys potential jobs in the making and imposes a
misallocation of production by preventing expansion. It is
true that, without the union, the industry will bid up wage
rates in the process of expansion; but if unions
impose a higher wage rate at the beginning, the expansion will
not occur.
Some opponents of unionism go to the extreme of maintaining
that unions can never be free-market phenomena and
are always “monopolistic” or coercive institutions.
Although this might be true in actual practice, it is not necessarily
true. It is very possible that labor unions might arise on the free
market and even gain restrictionist wage rates.
How can unions achieve restrictionist wage rates on the free market?
The answer can be found by considering the displaced workers. The key
problem is: Why do the workers let themselves
be displaced by the union’s WW minimum?
Since they were willing to work for less before, why do they now meekly
agree to being fired and looking for a poorer-paying job? Why do some
remain content to continue in a quasi-permanent pocket of unemployment
in an industry, waiting to be hired at the excessively high
rate? The only answer, in the absence of coercion, is that they have
adopted on a commandingly high place on their value scales the goal of not
undercutting union wage rates. Unions, naturally, are most
anxious to persuade workers, both union and nonunion, as well as the
general public, to believe strongly in the sinfulness of undercutting
union wage rates. This is shown most clearly in those situations where
union members refuse to continue working for a firm at a wage rate
below a certain minimum (or on other terms of employment).
This situation is known as a strike. The
most curious thing about a strike is that the unions have been able to
spread the belief throughout society that the striking members
are still “really” working for the company even
when they are deliberately and proudly refusing to
do so. The natural answer of the employer, of course, is to turn
somewhere else and to hire laborers who are willing
to work on the terms offered. Yet unions have been remarkably
successful in spreading the idea through society that anyone who
accepts such an offer—the
“strikebreaker”—is the lowest form of
human life.
To the extent, then, that nonunion workers feel ashamed or guilty about
“strike-breaking” or other forms of undercutting
union-proclaimed wage scales, the displaced or unemployed
workers agree to their own fate. These workers, in effect, are
being displaced to poorer and less satisfying jobs voluntarily and
remain unemployed for long stretches of time voluntarily.
It is voluntary because that is the consequence of their voluntary
acceptance of the mystique of
“not crossing the picket line” or of not being a
strikebreaker.
The economist qua economist can have no quarrel
with a man who voluntarily comes to the conclusion that it is more
important to preserve union solidarity than to have a good
job. But there is one thing an economist can do: he
can point out to the worker the consequences of his voluntary decision.
There are undoubtedly countless numbers of workers who do not
realize that their refusal to cross a picket line, their
“sticking to the union,” may result in their losing
their jobs and remaining unemployed. They do not realize this because
to do so requires knowledge of a chain of praxeological reasoning (such
as we have been following here). The consumer who purchases
directly enjoyable services does not have to be enlightened by
economists; he needs no lengthy chain of reasoning to know that his
clothing or car or food is enjoyable or serviceable. He can see each
perform its service before his eyes. Similarly, the
capitalist-entrepreneur does not need the economist to tell him what
acts will be profitable or unprofitable. He can see and test them by
means of his profits or losses. But for a grasp of the consequences of
acts of governmental intervention in the market or of union
activity, knowledge of praxeology is requisite.
Economics cannot itself decide on ethical judgments. But in order for
anyone to make ethical judgments rationally, he must know the
consequences of his various alternative courses of action. In
questions of government intervention or union action, economics
supplies the knowledge of these consequences. Knowledge of
economics is therefore necessary, though not sufficient, for making a
rational ethical judgment in these fields. As for unions, the
consequences of their activity, when discovered (e.g., displacement or
unemployment for oneself or others), will be considered
unfortunate by most people. Therefore, it is certain that when
knowledge of these consequences becomes widespread, far fewer people
will be “prounion” or hostile to
“nonunion” competitors.
Such conclusions will be reinforced when people learn of
another consequence of trade union activity: that a
restrictionist wage raises costs of production for the firms in the
industry. This means that the marginal firms in the
industry—the ones whose entrepreneurs earn only a bare
rent—will be driven out of business, for their costs
have risen above their most profitable price on the
market—the price that had already been
attained. Their ejection from the market and the general rise of
average costs in the industry signify a general fall in productivity
and output, and hence a loss to the consumers.
Displacement and
unemployment, of course, also impair the general standard of
living of the consumers.
Unions have had other important economic consequences. Unions are not producing
organizations; they do not work for capitalists to improve production.
Rather they attempt to
persuade workers that they can better their lot at the expense
of the employer. Consequently, they invariably attempt as much as
possible to establish work rules that hinder management’s
directives. These work rules amount to preventing management
from arranging workers and equipment as it sees fit. In other words,
instead of agreeing to submit to the work orders of management in
exchange for his pay, the worker now sets up not only minimum
wages, but also work rules without which he refuses to work. The effect
of these rules is to lower the marginal productivity
of all union workers. The lowering of marginal
value-product schedules has a twofold result: (1) it itself
establishes a restrictionist wage scale with its various consequences,
for the marginal value product has fallen while the union insists that
the wage rate remain the same; (2) consumers lose by a general lowering
of productivity and living standards. Restrictive work rules therefore
also lower output. All this is perfectly consistent with a society of
individual sovereignty, however, provided always that no force
is employed by the union.
To advocate coercive abolition of these work rules would imply
literal enslavement of the workers to the dictates of
catallactic consumers. But, once again, it is certain that
knowledge of these various consequences of union activity would greatly
weaken the voluntary adherence of many workers and others to the mystique
of unionism.
Unions, therefore, are theoretically compatible with the
existence of a purely free market. In actual fact, however, it
is evident to any competent observer that unions acquire
almost all their power through the wielding of force, specifically
force against strikebreakers and against the property of employers. An
implicit license to unions to commit violence against strikebreakers is
practically universal. Police commonly either remain
“neutral” when strikebreakers are molested or else
blame the strikebreakers for “provoking” the
attacks upon them. Certainly, few pretend that the institution of mass
picketing by unions is simply a method of advertising the fact of a
strike to anyone passing by. These matters, however, are empirical
rather than theoretical questions. Theoretically, we may say that it is
possible to have unions on a free market, although empirically we may
question how great their scope would be.
Analytically, we can also say that when unions are permitted to resort
to violence, the state or other enforcing agency has
implicitly delegated this power to the unions. The unions,
then, have become “private states.”
We have, in this section, investigated the consequences of
unions’ achieving restrictionist prices. This is not to
imply, however, that unions always achieve
such prices in collective bargaining. Indeed, because unions
do not own workers and therefore do not sell their labor, the
collective bargaining of unions is an artificial replacement for the
smooth workings of “individual bargaining”
on the labor market. Whereas wage rates on the nonunion labor
market will always tend toward equilibrium in a smooth and harmonious
manner, its replacement by collective bargaining leaves the negotiators
with little or no rudder, with little guidance on what the proper wage
rates would be. Even with both sides trying to find
the market rate, neither of the parties to the bargain could be sure
that a given wage agreement is too high, too low, or approximately
correct. Almost invariably, furthermore, the union is not trying
to discover the market rate, but to impose various arbitrary
“principles” of wage determination, such
as “keeping up with the cost of living,” a
“living wage,” the “going rate”
for comparable labor in other firms or industries, an annual
average “productivity” increase, “fair
differentials,” etc.
B.
Some Arguments for Unions: A Critique
(1) Indeterminacy
A favorite reply of union advocates to the above analysis is this:
“Oh, that is all very well, but you are overlooking the
indeterminacy of wage rates. Wage rates are determined by
marginal productivity in a zone rather
than at a point; and within that zone unions have an opportunity to
bargain collectively for increased wages without the admittedly
unpleasant effects of unemployment or displacement of workers
to poorer jobs.” It is curious that many writers move
smoothly through rigorous price analysis until they come to wage rates,
when suddenly they lay heavy stress on indeterminacy, the huge zones
within which the price makes no difference, etc.
In the first place, the scope of indeterminacy is very small in the
modern world. We have seen above that, in a two-person barter
situation, there is likely to be a large zone of indeterminacy
between the buyer’s maximum demand price and the
seller’s minimum supply price for a quantity of a good.
Within this zone, we can only leave the determination of the price to
bargaining. However, it is precisely the characteristic of an
advanced monetary economy that these zones are ever and ever narrowed
and lose their importance. The zone is only between the
“marginal pairs” of buyers and sellers, and
this zone is constantly dwindling as the number of people and
alternatives in the market increase. Growing
civilization, therefore, is always narrowing the importance of
indeterminacies.
Secondly, there is no reason whatever why a zone of
indeterminacy should be more important for the labor market
than for the market for the price of any other good.
Thirdly, suppose that there is a zone of
indeterminacy for a labor market, and let us assume that no union is
present. This means that there is a certain zone, the length of which
can be said to equal a zone of the discounted marginal value product of
the factor. This, parenthetically, is far less likely than the
existence of a zone for a consumers’ good, since in
the former case there is a specific amount, a DMVP, to be estimated.
But the maximum of the supposed zone is the highest
point at which the wage equals the DMVP. Now, competition among
employers will tend to raise factor prices to precisely that height at
which profits will be wiped out. In other words, wages will tend to be
raised to the maximum of any zone of the DMVP.
Rather than wages being habitually at the bottom of a zone, presenting
unions with a golden opportunity to raise wages to the top, the truth
is quite the reverse. Assuming the highly unlikely case that
any zone exists at all, wages will tend to be at the top,
so that the only remaining indeterminacy is downward. Unions would have
no room for increasing wages within that zone.
(2) Monopsony and Oligopsony
It is often alleged that the buyers of labor—the
employers—have some sort of monopoly and earn a monopoly
gain, and that therefore there is room for unions to raise wage rates
without injuring other laborers. However, such a
“monopsony” for the purchase of labor would have to
encompass all the entrepreneurs in the society. If it did not, then
labor, a nonspecific factor, could move into other firms and other
industries. And we have seen that one big cartel cannot exist on the
market. Therefore, a “monopsony’‘ cannot
exist.
The “problem” of
“oligopsony”—a “few”
buyers of labor—is a pseudo problem. As long as there is no
monopsony, competing employers will tend to drive up wage rates until
they equal their DMVPs. The number of competitors
is irrelevant; this depends on the concrete data of the market. Below,
we shall see the fallacy of the idea of
“monopolistic” or “imperfect”
competition, of which this is an example. Briefly, the case of
“oligopsony” rests on a distinction between the
case of “pure” or
“perfect”competition, in which there is an
allegedly horizontal—infinitely
elastic—supply curve of labor, and the supposedly
less elastic supply curve of the “imperfect”
oligopsony. Actually, since people do not move en masse
and all at once, the supply curve is never infinitely elastic, and the
distinction has no relevance. There is only free competition, and no
other dichotomies, such as between pure competition and oligopsony, can
be established. The shape of the supply curve, furthermore, makes no
difference to the truth that labor or any other factor tends to get its
DMVP on the market.
(3) Greater Efficiency and the “Ricardo
Effect”
One common prounion argument is that unions benefit the economy through
forcing higher wages on the employers. At these higher wages the
workers will become more efficient, and their marginal productivity
will rise as a result. If this were true, however, no unions
would be needed. Employers, ever eager for greater profits, would see
this and pay higher wages now to reap the benefits of the allegedly
higher productivity in the future. As a matter of fact, employers often
train workers, paying higher wages than their present
marginal product justifies, in order to reap the benefits of their
increased productivity in later years.
A more sophisticated variant of this thesis was advanced by Ricardo and
has been revived by Hayek. This doctrine holds that union-induced
higher wage rates encourage employers to substitute machinery
for labor. This added machinery increases the capital per worker and
raises the marginal productivity of labor, thereby paying for the
higher wage rates. The fallacy here is that only increased saving can
make more capital available. Capital investment is limited by
saving. Union wage increases do not increase the total supply
of capital available. Therefore, there can be no general rise in labor
productivity. Instead, the potential supply of capital is shifted
(not increased) from other industries to those industries with higher
wage rates. And it is shifted to industries where it would have been
less profitable under nonunion conditions. The fact that an
induced higher wage rate shifts capital to the industry does not
indicate economic progress, but rather an attempt, never fully
successful, to offset an economic retrogression—a higher cost
in the manufacture of the product. Hence, the shift is
“uneconomic.”
A related thesis is that higher wage rates will spur employers to
invent new technological methods to make labor more efficient. Here
again, however, the supply of capital goods is limited by the savings
available, and there is almost always a sheaf of technological
opportunities awaiting more capital anyway. Furthermore, the spur of
competition and the desire of the producer to keep and increase his
custom is enough of an incentive to increase productivity in
his firm, without the added burden of unionism.
5.
The Theory of Monopolistic or Imperfect Competition
A.
Monopolistic Competitive Price
The theory of monopoly price has been generally superseded in the
literature by the theories of “monopolistic” or
“imperfect” competition.
As against the older
theory, the latter have the advantage of setting up identifiable
criteria for their categories— such as a perfectly elastic
demand curve for pure competition. Unfortunately, these criteria turn
out to be completely fallacious.
Essentially, the chief characteristic of the
imperfect-competition theories is that they uphold as their
“ideal” the state of “pure
competition” rather than “competition” or
“free competition.” Pure
competition is defined as that state in which the
demand curve for each firm in the economy is perfectly
elastic, i.e., the demand curve as presented to the firm is
completely horizontal. In this supposedly pristine state of
affairs, no one firm can, through its actions, possibly have any
influence over the price of its product. Its price is then
“set” for it by the market. Any amount it produces
can and will be sold at this ruling price. In general, it is this state
of affairs, or else this state without uncertainty
(“perfect competition”), that has received most of
the elaborate analysis in recent years. This is true both for those who
believe that pure competition fairly well represents the real economy
and for their opponents, who consider it only an ideal with which to
contrast the actual “monopolistic” state of
affairs. Both camps, however, join in upholding pure competition as the
ideal system for the general welfare, in contrast to various vague
“monopoloid” states that occur when there is
departure from the purely competitive world.
The pure-competition theory, however, is an utterly fallacious one. It
envisages an absurd state of affairs, never realizable in practice, and
far from idyllic if it were. In the first place, there can be no such
thing as a firm without influence on its price. The
monopolistic-competition theorist contrasts this ideal firm with those
firms that have some influence on the determination of price and are
therefore in some degree “monopolistic.” Yet it is
obvious that the demand curve to a firm cannot be
perfectly elastic throughout. At some points, it must dip downward,
since the increase in supply will tend to lower market price. As a
matter of fact, it is clear from our construction of the
demand curve that there can be no stretch of the
demand curve, however small, that is horizontal, although there can be
small vertical stretches. In aggregating the market demand curve, we
saw that for each hypothetical price, the consumers will decide to
purchase a certain amount. If the producers attempt to sell a
larger amount, they will have to conclude their sale at a lower price
in order to attract an increased demand. Even a very small increase in
supply will lead to a perhaps very small lowering of price. The
individual firm, no matter how small, always has a perceptible
influence on the total supply. In an industry of small wheat farms (the
implicit model for “pure competition”), each small
farm contributes a part of the total supply, and there can be no total
without a contribution from each farm. Therefore, each farm has a
perceptible, even if very small, influence. No perfectly
elastic demand curve can, then, be postulated even in such a case. The
error in believing in “perfect elasticity” stems
from the use of such mathematical concepts as “second order
of smalls,” by which infinite negligibility of steps can be
assumed. But economics analyzes real human action, and such
real action must always be concerned with discrete, perceptible steps,
and never with “infinitely small” steps.
Of course, the demand curve for each small wheat farm is likely to be
very highly, almost perfectly, elastic. And yet the
fact that it is not “perfect”
destroys the entire concept of pure competition. For how does this
situation differ from, say, the Hershey Chocolate Company if
the demand curve for the latter firm is also elastic? Once it is
conceded that all demand curves to firms must be falling, the
monopolistic-competition theorist can make no further analytic
distinctions.
We cannot compare or classify the curves on the basis of degrees
of elasticity, since there is nothing in the
Chamberlin-Robinson monopolistic-competition analysis, or in
any part of praxeology for that matter, that permits us to do so, once
the case of pure competition is rejected. For praxeology cannot
establish quantitative laws, only qualitative
ones. Indeed, the only recourse of monopolistic-competition theorists
would be to fall back on the concepts of
“inelastic” vs. “elastic”
demand curves, and this would precisely plunge them right back into the
old monopoly-price vs. competitive-price dichotomy. They would have to
say, with the old monopoly-price theorists, that if the demand curve
for the firm is more than unitarily elastic at the equilibrium point,
the firm will remain at the “competitive” price;
that if the curve is inelastic, it will rise to a monopoly-price
position. But, as we have already seen in detail, the
monopoly-competitive price dichotomy is untenable.
According to the monopolistic-competition theorists, the two influences
sabotaging the possible existence of pure competition are
“differentiation of product” and
“oligopoly,” or fewness of firms, where one firm
influences the actions of others. As to the former, the producers are
accused of creating an artificial differentiation among
products in the mind of the public, thus carving out for themselves a
portion of monopoly. And Chamberlin originally attempted to
distinguish “groups” of producers selling
“slightly” differentiated products from
old-fashioned “industries” of firms making
identical products. Neither of these attempts has any validity. If a
producer is making a product different from that of another producer,
then he is a unique “industry”; there is no
rational basis for any grouping of varied producers,
particularly in aggregating their demand curves. Furthermore,
the consuming public decides on the differentiation of products on its
value scales. There is nothing “artificial” about
the differentiation, and indeed this differentiation serves to
cater more closely to the multifarious wants of the consumers.
It is clear, of course,
that Ford has a monopoly on the sale of Ford cars; but this is a full
“monopoly” rather than a
“monopolistic” tendency. Also, it is difficult to
see what difference can come from the number of firms that are
producing the same product, particularly once we discard the myth of
pure competition and perfect elasticity. Much ado indeed has been made
about strategies, “warfare,” etc., between
oligopolists, but there is little point to such discussions. Either the
firms are independent and therefore competing, or they are acting
jointly and therefore cartelizing. There is no third alternative.
Once the perfect-elasticity myth has been discarded, it becomes clear
that all the tedious discussion about the number and size of firms and
groups and differentiation, etc., becomes irrelevant. It becomes
relevant only for economic history, and not for economic
analysis.
It might be objected that there is a substantial problem of oligopoly:
that, under oligopoly, each firm has to take into account the
reactions of competing firms, whereas under pure competition
or differentiated products without oligopoly, each firm can operate in
the blissful awareness that no competitor will take account of its
actions or change its actions accordingly. Hiram Jones, the small wheat
farmer, can set his production policy without wondering what Ezra Smith
will do when he discovers what Jones’ policy is. Ford, on the
other hand, must consider General Motors’ reactions, and vice
versa. Many writers, in fact, have gone so far as to maintain
that economics can simply not be applied to these
“oligopoly” situations, that these are
indeterminate situations where “anything may
happen.” They define the buyers’ demand curve that
presents itself to the firm as assuming no reaction
by competing firms. Then, since “few firms” exist
and each firm takes account of the reactions of others, they proceed to
the conclusion that in the real world all is chaos,
incomprehensible to economic analysis.
These alleged difficulties are nonexistent, however. There is no reason
why the demand curve to a firm cannot include
expected reactions by other firms.
The demand curve to a firm
is the set of a firm’s expectations, at any time, of how many
units of its product consumers will buy at an alternative series of
prices. What interests the producer is the hypothetical set of consumer
demands at each price. He is not interested in what consumer
demand will be in various sets of nonexistent situations. His
expectations will be based on his judgment of what would
actually happen should he charge various alternative prices. If his
rivals will react in a certain way to his charging a higher or a lower
price, then it is each firm’s business to forecast
and take account of this reaction in so far as it will affect
buyers’ demand for its particular product. There would be
little sense in ignoring such reactions if they were relevant to the
demand for its product or in including them if they were not. A
firm’s estimated demand curve, therefore, already
includes any expected reactions of rivals.
The relevant consideration is not the fewness of the firms or the state
of hostility or friendship existing among firms. Those writers who
discuss oligopoly in terms applicable to games of poker or to military
warfare are entirely in error. The fundamental business of
production is service to the consumers for monetary gain, and not some
sort of “game” or “warfare” or
any other sort of struggle between producers. In
“oligopoly,” where several firms are producing an
identical product, there cannot persist any situation in which one firm
charges a higher price than another, since there is always a tendency
toward the formation of a uniform price for each uniform
product. Whenever firm A attempts to sell its product higher or lower
than the previously ruling market price, it is attempting to
“discover the market,” to find out what
the equilibrium market price is, in accordance with the
present state of consumer demand. If, at a certain price for the
product, consumer demand is in excess of supply, the firms will tend to
raise the price, and vice versa if the
produced stock is not being sold. In this familiar pathway to
equilibrium, all the stock that the firms wish to sell
“clears the market” at the highest price
that can be obtained. The jockeying and raising and lowering of prices
that takes place in “oligopolistic”
industries is not some mysterious form of warfare, but the visible
process of attempting to find market equilibrium—that price
at which the quantity supplied and the quantity demanded will be equal.
The same process, indeed, takes place in any market, such as
the “nonoligopolistic” wheat or strawberry markets.
In the latter markets the process seems to the viewer more
“impersonal,” because the actions of any
one individual or firm are not as important or as strikingly visible as
in the more “oligopolistic” industries.
But the process is essentially the same, and we must not be led to
think differently by such often inapt metaphors as the
“automatic mechanisms of the market” or the
“soulless, impersonal forces on the
market.” All action on the market is necessarily personal;
machines may move, but they do not purposefully act.
And, in oligopoly situations, the rivalries, the feelings of
one producer toward his competitors, may be historically dramatic, but
they are unimportant for economic analysis.
To those who are still tempted to make the number of producers
in any field the test of competitive merit, we might ask (setting aside
the problem of proving homogeneity): How can the market create
sufficient numbers? If Crusoe exchanges fish for Friday’s
lumber on their desert island, are they both benefiting, or are they
“bilateral monopolists” exploiting each other and
charging each other monopoly prices? But if the State is not
justified in marching in to arrest Crusoe and/or Friday, how
can it be justified in coercing a market where there are obviously many
more competitors?
Economic analysis, in conclusion, fails to establish any criterion for
separating any elements of the free-market price for a product. Such
questions as the number of firms in an industry, the sizes of the
firms, the type of product each firm makes, the personalities
or motives of the entrepreneurs, the location of plants, etc., are
entirely determined by the concrete conditions and data of the
particular case. Economic analysis can have nothing to say about them.
See the reference to Abbott, Quality
and Competition, in note 28 above.
On “natural
monopoly” doctrine as applied to the electrical industry, see
Dean Russell, The TVA Idea (Irvington-on-Hudson,
N.Y.: Foundation for Economic Education, 1949), pp. 79–85.
For an excellent discussion of the regulation of public utilities, see
Dewing, Financial Policy of Corporations, I,
308–68.
See
Mises:
Prices
are a market phenomenon. . . . They are the resultant of a certain
constellation of market data, of actions and reactions of the members
of a market society. It is vain to meditate what prices would have been
if some of their determinants had been different. . . . It is no less
vain to ponder on what prices ought to be. Everybody is pleased if the
prices of things he wants to buy drop and the prices of the things he
wants to sell rise. . . . Any price determined on a market is the
necessary outgrowth of the interplay of the forces operating,
that is, demand and supply. Whatever the market situation
which generated this price may be, with regard to it the price is
always adequate, genuine, and real. It cannot be higher if no bidder
ready to offer a higher price turns up, and it cannot be lower if no
seller ready to deliver at a lower price turns up. Only the appearance
of such people ready to buy or sell can alter prices. Economics . . .
does not develop formulas which would enable anybody to compute a
“correct” price different from that
established on the market by the interaction of buyers and
sellers. . . . This refers also to monopoly prices. . . . No
alleged “fact finding” and no armchair speculation
can discover another price at which demand and supply would become equal.
The failure of all experiments to find a satisfactory solution for the
limited-space monopoly of public utilities clearly proves this truth.
(Mises, Human Action, pp. 392–94; italics
added)
The first to point out the error
in the common talk of “monopoly wage rates” of
unions was Professor Mises. See his brilliant
discussion in Human Action, pp. 373–74. Also
see P. Ford, The Economics of Collective
Bargaining (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1958), pp.
35–40. Ford also refutes the thesis advanced by the recent
“Chicago School” that unions perform a service as
sellers of labor:
But
a union does not itself produce or sell the commodity, labour, nor
receive payment for it. . . . It could be more fitly described as . . .
fixing the wages and other conditions on which its individual members
are permitted to sell their services to the individual employers. (Ibid.,
p. 36)
A restrictionist, rather than a
monopoly, price can be achieved because the number of laborers is so
important in relation to the possible variation in hours
of work by an individual laborer that the latter can be ignored here.
If, however, the total labor supply is limited originally to a few
people, then an imposed higher wage rate will cut down the number of
hours purchased from the workers who remain working, perhaps
so much as to render a restrictionist price unprofitable to them. In
such a case it would be more appropriate to speak of a monopoly
price.
Cf. Mises, Human Action,
p. 764.
See Charles E.
Lindblom, Unions and Capitalism (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1949), pp. 78ff., 92–97, 108, 121,
131–32, 150–52, 155. Also see
Henry C. Simons, “Some Reflections on Syndicalism”
in Economic Policy for a Free Society
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948), pp. 131f., 139ff.; Martin
Bronfenbrenner, “The Incidence of Collective
Bargaining,” American Economic Review, Papers
and Proceedings, May, 1954, pp. 301–02; Fritz
Machlup, “Monopolistic Wage Determination as a Part of the
General Problem of Monopoly” in Wage Determination
and the Economics of Liberalism (Washington, D.C.: Chamber of
Commerce of the United States, 1947), pp. 64–65.
See Murray N.
Rothbard, “Mises’ Human Action:
Comment,” American Economic Review,
March, 1951, pp. 183–84.
The same is true, to an even
greater extent, of measures of governmental intervention in
the market. See chapter 12 below.
See James
Birks, Trade Unionism in Relation to Wages (London,
1897), p. 30.
See James Birks, Trades’
Unionism: A Criticism and a Warning (London, 1894), p. 22.
We can deal here only with the
directly catallactic consequences of labor unionism. Unionism also has
other consequences which many might consider even more deplorable.
Prominent is the fusing of the able and the incompetent into one group.
Seniority rules, for example, are invariable favorites of unions. They
set restrictively high wages for less able workers and also lower the
productivity of all. But they also reduce the wages
of the more able workers—those who must be chained to the
stultifying march of seniority for their jobs and promotions. Seniority
also decreases the mobility of workers and creates a kind of industrial
serfdom by establishing vested rights in jobs according to the length
of time the employees have worked. Cf. David McCord Wright,
“Regulating Unions” in Bradley, Public
Stake in Union Power, pp. 113–21.
Students of labor unions have
almost universally ignored the systematic use of violence by unions.
For a welcome exception, see Sylvester Petro, Power
Unlimited (New York: Ronald Press, 1959). Also cf. F.A.
Hayek, “Unions, Inflation, and Profits,” p. 47.
On the nature and consequences of
these various criteria of wage determination, see
Ford, Economics of Collective Bargaining, pp.
85–110.
See the excellent critique by
Hutt, Theory of Collective Bargaining, passim.
On the Ricardo effect, see
Mises, Human Action, pp. 767–70. Also see
the detailed critique by Ford, Economics of Collective
Bargaining, pp. 56–66, who also points to the union
record of hindering mechanization by imposing restrictive work rules
and by moving quickly to absorb any possible gain from the new
equipment.
In particular, see
Edward H. Chamberlin, Theory of Monopolistic Competition,
and Mrs. Joan Robinson, Economics of Imperfect Competition.
For a lucid discussion and comparison of the two works, see
Robert Triffin, Monopolistic Competition and General
Equilibrium Theory (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1940). The differences between the “monopolistic”
and the “imperfect” formulations are not important
here.
Recently, Professor Chamberlin has
conceded this point and has, in a series of remarkable articles,
astounded his followers by repudiating the concept of pure competition
as a welfare ideal. Chamberlin now declares: “The welfare
ideal itself . . . is correctly described as one of monopolistic
competition. . . . [This] seems to follow very directly from the
recognition that human beings are individual, diverse in their tastes
and desires, and moreover, widely dispersed spatially.”
Chamberlin, Towards a More General Theory of Value,
pp. 93–94; also ibid., pp.
70–83; E.H. Chamberlin and J.M. Clark,
“Discussion,” American Economic Review,
Papers and Proceedings, May, 1950, pp. 102–04;
Hunter, “Product Differentiation and Welfare
Economics,” pp. 533–52; Hayek, “The
Meaning of Competition” in Individualism
and the Economic Order, p. 99; and Marshall I. Goldman,
“Product Differentiation and Advertising: Some
Lessons from Soviet Experience,” Journal
of Political Economy, August, 1960, pp. 346–57. See
also note 28 above.
This definition of the demand
curve to the firm was Mrs. Robinson’s outstanding
contribution, unfortunately repudiated by her recently. Triffin
castigated Mrs. Robinson for evading the problem of
“oligopolistic indeterminacy,” whereas actually she
had neatly solved this pseudo problem. See
Robinson, Economics of Imperfect Competition, p.
21. For other aspects of oligopoly, see Willard D.
Arant, “Competition of the Few Among the Many,” Quarterly
Journal of Economics, August, 1956, pp. 327–45.
For an acute criticism of
monopolistic-competition theory, see L.M. Lachmann,
“Some Notes on Economic Thought,
1933–53,” South African Journal of
Economics, March, 1954, pp. 26ff., especially pp.
30–31. Lachmann points out that economists generally treat
types of “perfect” or
“monopolistic” competition as static market forms,
whereas competition is actually a dynamic process.
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