The Ludwig von Mises Institute presents The Libertarian Tradition, an audio series with
Jeff Rigenbach.
On an evening in 1871, or perhaps 1872, a young MIT student named Benjamin R. Tucker
attended a lecture somewhere in the Boston-Cambridge area, a lecture at which he met a much older
Tucker Mann named Josiah Warren.
Tucker was only 17 or 18 at the time, and his encounter with Warren, who was in his
early 70s, was a fateful, even a life-changing one.
After devoting a half-dozen years to further thought about the ideas Warren introduced
to him that evening, young Tucker embarked upon an ambitious program of publishing involving
both books and periodicals that occupied him for the next 30 years.
During those years, through his publications, he succeeded in creating, and then leading,
what I have often described here on Mises.org, as the first, the original, American libertarian
movement.
Josiah Warren never lived to see any of this.
He died in 1874, not long after his fateful meeting with the young Benjamin Tucker.
He was 76 years old at the time of his death, which took place in Princeton, Massachusetts,
A small town fifteen or twenty miles north of Worcester, around fifty or sixty miles
west of Boston as the crow flies.
Tucker, at this time, was still only nineteen years old.
Yet the theories he built the first libertarian movement around in the 1880s and 90s were
essentially the theories he first heard enunciated when he was a student at MIT in the early
1870s, the theories he first heard from the lips of Josiah Warren.
Tucker worked on those ideas extensively during the three decades of his publishing career.
He expanded upon them, worked out their implications, found ways to popularize them.
But they remained, fundamentally, Warren's ideas.
Josiah Warren was born in Boston in 1798.
An apparent natural talent for music showed itself early on, and he was playing professionally
in local bands by the time he was in his mid-teens.
At 20, he married and decided, as his biographer William Bailey puts it, to set out from his
native place to improve his fortunes in the West.
In those days, the city of Cincinnati was quite on the verge of civilization, with the
vast unknown beyond, and when Warren reached it, he decided to settle there and pursue
his vocation as an orchestra leader and teacher of music.
His talents soon gained him an honorable professional repute, which extended beyond the city, but
and he had other interests.
This, if anything, is an understatement.
In addition to his lifelong enthusiasm for music, Warren was an inveterate tinkerer.
He seldom came upon any machine or device or system that he didn't think he could improve
in some way.
And often enough, he was right.
Bailey reports that Warren devoted his leisure time to mechanical pursuits for about five
The Theory of Money and Credit
17 years old, Robert Owen came to town.
Owen was a British industrialist and social reformer, born in Wales in modest circumstances
in 1771, and now in 1825 in his mid-fifties.
He was a self-made man, having worked his way up from clothier's apprentice to the
fabulously wealthy owner of an international textile business.
As an enthusiastic reader, Owen became devoted in the 1890s, when he was in his 20s, to
the ideas of the English utilitarian philosopher and social reformer Jeremy Bentham.
But as the years went by, he found himself drifting more and more away from Bentham's
views and toward communism.
He came to believe that the introduction of labor-saving machinery into the workplace
This was the chief cause of economic misery, and that the best remedy for this situation
was to be found in a mode of society in which workers would feel united and would experience
solidarity with their fellows, while machinery was de-emphasized.
And his way of uniting workers was by arranging for them to live communally.
Robert Owen stands near the beginning of a long line of businessmen who believed their
and their skill at commerce suited them well to the task of figuring out a way to fix what was wrong with human social relations in general.
He knew exactly how everything about the ideal community should be done, right down to the population density.
He believed, as the Wikipedia article on Owen summarizes it, that communities of about 1200 persons each should be settled on quantities of land from 1000 to 1500 acres,
all living in one large building in the form of a square with public kitchen and mess rooms.
Each family should have its own private apartments and the entire care of the children till the age
of three, after which they should be brought up by the community. Their parents would have
access to them at meals and all other proper times. All property in these communities should
should be communally owned, Owen believed.
Work and consumption should both be based on the precept, from each according to his
ability, to each according to his need, though that exact phrase had not yet been coined.
Owen underwrote the cost of launching such a community in Scotland, and then undertook
an American lecture tour he hoped would drum up enthusiasts for the very similar utopian
Warren was mightily impressed by Owen.
Up to this time, he seems not ever to have entertained the notion that his passion for
tinkering might be extended to so vast a canvas as all of human society.
But after all, if he could improve a machine, a device, a system, then why not try his hand
at improving society?
First he decided he should give Robert Owen's ideas a fair trial.
They certainly sounded persuasive.
And so it was that in 1825, at the age of 27, Josiah Warren, the successful inventor
and commercial exploiter of a popular lamp, sold his factory after only two years of operation,
packed up his young family, and took his place as one of 900 or so Owenites who had decided
to become part of the founding population of New Harmony, Indiana.
The utopian community failed pretty quickly. In fact, according to James J. Martin in his
classic work Men Against the State, failure of its main objective was admitted less than
a year and a half after the first confident measures towards central organization had
been taken. Numerous reasons have been advanced for this. The absence of Owen at critical
times, preoccupation with the externals of organization and petty strife. More important
Perhaps was the fact that too much of the tangible and material portion of the venture
represented something for which the rank and file of the community felt no attachment,
it being the contribution of the leader and not the product of the labor of the group.
This last observation of Martin's is closely related to Warren's own ideas about why New
Harmony had proved a disaster.
As Martin writes, Warren made a quick and incisive deduction as to the cause of the
debacle, which placed him at once in a camp far removed from that in which the faithful
Owenites would henceforth gather.
He felt that the common property scheme of the new Harmony colony virtually guaranteed
the submergence of the individual within the confines of the community.
The consequences of such a procedure, said Warren, were inevitable.
Not only was individual initiative stifled by failure to provide a place within the structure
for personal rights and interests beyond the sphere of religious matters, but the elimination
of individual property rights resulted in almost total dissipation of responsibility
for the occurrence of individual incapacity, failure, and shortcomings of other kinds.
Reflecting on his experience at New Harmony some years later, Warren wrote that it appeared
He concluded that it was nature's own inherent law of diversity that had conquered us.
Our united interests were directly at war with the individualities of persons and circumstances,
and the instinct of self-preservation.
He concluded that society must be so converted as to preserve the sovereignty of every individual
inviolate, and it must avoid all combinations and connections of persons and interests,
and all other arrangements, which will not leave every individual at all times at liberty
to dispose of his or her person and time and property in any manner in which his or her
feelings or judgment may dictate, without involving the persons or interests of others.
And so it was that in May of 1827 a sadder, wiser, but not at all discouraged Josiah Warren,
still not yet 30 years old, returned to Cincinnati.
He set about making arrangements to earn his living as a musician and music teacher as
he had before, but now social reform was in his blood, and within only a few weeks he
plunged headlong into another utopian experiment based on the ideas of Robert Owen.
This one was a retail store at the corner of 5th and Elm Streets in what is now downtown
Cincinnati.
All the goods offered for sale in Warren's store were offered at the same price the merchant
himself had paid for them, plus a small surcharge, in the neighborhood of four to seven percent,
to cover store overhead.
Cost, the limit of price, was one of Warren's favorite slogans.
But, you ask, was this meager four to seven percent markup also supposed to include the
store's profit?
No, it wasn't.
The store didn't make any profit at all, in the conventional sense.
Let William Bailey explain in a little more detail how Warren's store worked.
Bailey notes that the people in and around Cincinnati in the waning years of John Quincy
Adams' presidency called Warren's establishment the Time Store, not because it gave credit
or sold goods on installments, but on account of the peculiar and original method adopted
to Fix and Regulate the Amount of the Merchant's Compensation.
This was determined on the principle of the equal exchange of labor, measured by the time
occupied, and exchanged hour for hour with other kinds of labor.
Let us illustrate.
A clock hangs in a conspicuous place in the store.
In comes the customer to make his purchases.
All goods are marked with the price in plain figures, which is their cost price, plus
It's a nominal percentage to cover freight, shrinkage, rent, etc., usually about 4 cents
on the dollar.
The purchaser selects what he needs, with not over much assistance or prompting from
the salesman, and pays for the same in lawful money.
The time spent by the merchant in waiting upon him is now calculated by reference to
the convenient clock, and in payment for this service the customer gives his labor note,
Something After This Form, Due to Josiah Warren on Demand, 30 Minutes in Carpenter Work, John
Smith, or Due to Josiah Warren on Demand, 10 Minutes in Needle Work, Mary Brown.
The storekeeper thus agreed to exchange his time for an equal amount of the time of those
who bought goods of him.
Profits, in the customary sense, there were none.
This is a very close approximation to what we see happening in retail establishments
in Eric Frank Russell's libertarian science fiction novel The Great Explosion.
The people running those fictional retail establishments call themselves GANDs and claim
to base their political economy on the works of Mohandas K. Gandhi.
But all I can say is you could have fooled me.
I can't help but wonder whether Eric Frank Russell read an account of Josiah Warren's
In any case, Warren's Time Store was a success in the sense that, for more than two years,
it paid its own bills and those of Warren's family, and, after it had closed its door,
its proprietor, according to Bailey, found himself financially in the same position as
at the beginning.
He chose to close the Time Store despite the fact that it was prospering, because he wanted
Warren attempted to devote his own time and his other resources to the establishment of a utopian community, something like new harmony, but based on his principle of individual sovereignty, rather than on from each according to his ability, to each according to his need.
Warren attempted to create several such communities during the 1830s, 1840s and 1850s, the best known of which, Modern Times, was located on Long Island, about 40 miles from New York City.
None of them was an unqualified success.
William Bailey comments that though Warren's utopian communities could be said to have failed,
failed, it should be understood that they did not fail in the sense that New Harmony,
Brook Farm and numerous other socialistic experiments failed.
The pioneers of modern times had no trouble over property or forms of government.
Each owned his house and land, and, by mutual understanding, political authority was dispensed
with.
None felt responsible for the behavior of his neighbors, and only aggressive or invasive
of Conduct was resisted by combined action.
The main cause of the non-success of the village was the scarcity of employment other than
that of agriculture.
Capital was needed to start factories for the manufacture of articles for which there
was a demand in the outside world.
The pioneers had but little resources.
There was an attempt, Bailey reports, by one Edward D. Linton to set up a paper box
Manufactory, which promised to furnish the demand for labor that was no less desirable
for the prosperity of the place than essential to its growth in numbers.
But this enterprise was checked by the disastrous financial panic of 1857, which in New York
City alone, where the product of Mr. Linton's factory was marketed, threw upwards of 20,000
persons out of work.
And before the effects of the ensuing industrial depression had cleared away, the country was
in the throes of civil war, and all hope of regenerating society for the time being was
dissipated.
In the end, of course, the original aims of the pioneers were gradually lost sight of
in the inevitable struggle for existence.
George Woodcock, the noted historian of anarchism, who calls Josiah Warren the first American
in Anarchist, writes that modern times maintained its mutualist character for at least two decades,
eventually turning into a more or less conventional village with cooperative tendencies.
Woodcock's opinion of Warren's importance in the history of anarchist thought is widely
shared.
Peter Marshall, the prominent English historian of anarchism, calls him the first real American
Anarchist, and William O. Reichert, in his book Partisans of Freedom, a Study in American
Anarchism, describes Warren as the chief architect of libertarianism.
And we have seen the impact Warren had during his last years on a young and impressionable
Benjamin R. Tucker, and what ultimately came of that.
William Bailey notes that Warren throughout his life remained obscure.
Warren believed that statute laws are at best hindrances and must be swept away, not by
by violence, but by the slowly evolved sense of justice and equity which would eventually
undermine all surviving forms of authority.
Also, Warren believed in the benefits of the diversity that would be an inescapable product
of any truly free society.
Differences, he wrote, like the admissible discords in music, are a valuable part of
our harmony.
It is only when the rights of persons or property are actually invaded that collisions arise.
These rights being clearly defined and sanctioned by public opinion, and temptations to encroachments
being withdrawn, we may then consider our great problem practically solved.
With regard to mere difference of opinion in taste, convenience, economy, equality,
For even right and wrong, good and bad, sanity and insanity, all must be left to the supreme
decision of each individual, whenever he can take on himself the cost of his decisions,
which he cannot do while his interests or movements are united or combined with others.
It is in combination or close connection only that compromise or conformity is required.
Peace, Harmony, Ease, Security, Happiness will be found only in individuality.
That was Josiah Warren, and this is Jeff Riggenbach.