Marx 101: Aristotle, Slavery, and The Equivalent Form of Value
As a philosopher, Marx is a particularly interesting figure. While philosophers tend to offer their philosophical claims directly, with Marx, we often receive them tangentially. The reason for this is that Marx’s concern often lies in the world of political economy, so that much of what he actually writes takes the form of an analysis of that world. That is, he often writes about economics and politics. However, Marx’s real philosophical contribution lies in the method of his analysis. That is, his philosophical genius doesn’t necessary lie in the specific claims he makes about economics and politics, many of which do happen to be quite brilliant, but rather, it lies in the method that he uses to make these claims. It is this method that illuminated the world in a fundamentally new way, and it is this method that continues to do so. And while Marx does sometimes explain his method, oftentimes we only see it indirectly, when we reflect on how Marx managed to see what he reveals to us.
However, at times, Marx’s philosophical brilliance hits you in the face. And recently, this happened to me. The other day, I was reading Marx’s Capital, Vol. 1, and I came across a short passage that blew me away. Located in Chapter 1, a chapter whose main purpose lies in the realm of economic analysis (Marx is explaining the nature of a “commodity”), Marx breaks from the main narrative in order to offer a brief digression about Aristotle. And as brilliant as is Chapter 1 of Capital, it was this digression that bowled me over. And I thought some people might enjoy reading an analysis of this passage, because I think it really shows Marx at his best. No knowledge of Marx, Aristotle, economics, or philosophy required!!!
To begin, this section of Capital is interested in trying to explain how it’s possible to exchange one type of commodity for another, and understanding a little bit about this problem will help. We never much think about what’s taking place when we exchange one type of commodity, such as iron, for another totally different type of commodity, such as wheat, and we instead pretty much take for granted that such an exchange can and does take place, but Marx realizes that there is a bit of a philosophical puzzle here.
You’ve probably heard the phrase that you can’t compare apples to oranges. What is meant by this is that it’s impossible to compare two things that have nothing in common, because a comparison requires some point of similarity—it requires a “basis” of comparison. For instance, if we wanted to exchange apples for oranges or vice versa, we need to determine their rate of exchange—we need to determine how many apples equals one orange and how many oranges equals one apple—because otherwise we don’t know what a fair trade might be. And when we figure out this rate of exchange, such as by determining that 1 apple is “worth” 2 oranges, what we’re really doing is saying that both apples and oranges have something called “value” in common, and that apples just happen to have double the value than do oranges. That is, we are comparing or exchanging them on the basis of a similarity they share, and which in this case is something called “value.”
Given this, Marx notes that we not only compare apples to oranges, but that we also compare apples to telephones, oranges to running shoes, and just about everything in between. After all, if we had a bushel of apples, we could say that this bushel of apples was equal to 3 telephones, 2 bushels of oranges, 5 pairs of running shoes, and so on and so forth. And Marx realizes that we can compare these very dissimilar commodities because, like the apples and oranges from the previous example, every commodity has the quality of “value” in common, and it is on this basis that we can exchange them. However, Marx also realizes that while value might be what all commodities have in common, we still don’t really know what constitutes value. That is, it is one thing to say that every commodity, no matter how different, has something called “value” in it, and another thing to understand what this thing called value actually is.
And so, Marx continues in his analysis, and argues that the basis of value is labor. That is, for Marx, what creates the value in a commodity is the labor that went into producing it. Therefore, more valuable commodities are those that require more labor to produce while less valuable commodities are those that require less labor. Consequently, when we say that 1 bushel of apples is equal to 3 telephones, what we’re really saying is that the labor that went into the 1 bushel of apples is equal to the labor that goes into producing 3 telephones. The commodities themselves might be totally different, but insofar as commodities are things that labor produces, they are the same. And it is on this basis—on the basis of the value in commodities that comes from the labor that produced them—that we can exchange even the most different of commodities.
Obviously, this is just the very beginning of something that will get much more elaborate, but for our purposes, this is all that we need to know. In the passage that I encountered in Capital, Marx had just gone through explaining the above point, albeit in much more detail, after which he offered the digression that really caught my attention. And his digression was motivated by an odd question: Marx is interested in explaining why Aristotle failed to understand that labor was the basis for comparing dissimilar commodities. That is, Marx wants to know why Aristotle failed to understand what he, Marx, does understand. A peculiar question indeed.
When philosophers argue with one another, they usually criticize one another on the basis of what they respectively believe. So, it would make perfect sense for Marx to criticize Aristotle for something that Aristotle believed but that Marx thought was wrong. After all, this is what an argument usually looks like—two interlocutors arguing with one another about their conflicting beliefs. However, Marx isn’t interested in arguing with Aristotle about the veracity of their respective beliefs, so much as he is interested in explaining why Aristotle failed to understand something that is Marx believes is true. That is, Marx wants to explain why Aristotle—as brilliant as he was—did not, or could not, understand the truth about the value of commodities. This is an unusual starting point for a philosopher’s engagement with another philosopher, because Marx isn’t interested in demonstrating that Aristotle was wrong, so much as he wants to explain why Aristotle had to be wrong.
In making his case, Marx begins by noting that Aristotle recognized the philosophical puzzle of commodity exchange that prompted Marx’s argument about how labor is the basis for the exchange of commodities. Specifically, Marx points to a section in Aristotle’s Ethics where Aristotle notes that we do compare dissimilar commodities—which, in Aristotle’s example, entails a comparison in which 5 beds is believed to be worth 1 house. Furthermore, Marx also notes that Aristotle realizes that it is actually impossible to compare items, such as beds and houses, that are dissimilar. And so, as Marx recognizes, Aristotle clearly understood the philosophical problem involved in the exchange of dissimilar commodities, insofar as such an exchange requires a commonality between these commodities (i.e., it requires a basis of comparison), and that in Marx’s case prompted him to argue that labor is the commonality that allows us to comparatively value different commodities.
However, Marx continues his reading of Aristotle, and notes that Aristotle doesn’t actually solve this problem, but instead just throws his hands into the air, and states that even though comparison requires that we find something in common, there isn’t actually anything in common between commodities like beds and houses. That is, Aristotle explicitly realizes that there has to be something in common, but then says that even though this is necessary, there isn’t actually anything in common. And the way that Aristotle resolves this problem is by arguing that any commonality is “something foreign to their real nature” that we impose on them for “makeshift and practical purposes.” In other words, because Aristotle realizes that there has to be something in common but he can’t see what that might be, his answer is that we basically just make up something in common for “practical purposes.” That is, because we need to trade commodities, we invent a fake commonality so that trade is possible.
However, as Marx notes, this makes absolutely no sense—and Aristotle should have, or did, know better. There might be an economic reason for why we need to compare beds and houses, i.e. so that we can exchange them, but this “practical necessity” doesn’t let us off the hook for the philosophical necessity of finding a basis of comparison. That is, whether we like it or not, there has to be a basis of comparison for any comparison or exchange to take place. Without such a basis, we could technically exchange beds for houses, but it would be an entirely arbitrary affair, because we don’t have the underlying basis of comparison by which to determine how many beds equal one house. That is, we have no way of knowing how many beds equals a house or how many houses equals a bed. Therefore, we might sometimes trade 5 beds for 1 house, as in Aristotle’s arithmetic, but sometimes we might trade 5 houses for 1 bed, because there’s no basis for determining the proper exchange rate. Consequently, trade becomes totally random.
This problem naturally leads to the question that got Marx started on his digression in the first place, which was the question of how Aristotle could fail to realize that labor is the basis of the comparison of commodities. In fact, as Marx’s analysis helps show, regardless of whether Aristotle discovered that labor served as this basis, it’s particularly weird that he would abandon the philosophical problem of finding such a basis, especially as he realizes the philosophical necessity that there be one. It’s like a physicist declaring that “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction” but who then finds one example in which this isn’t the case, but rather than rethinking things, they instead declare that “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction … and when there isn’t, let’s pretend there is.” And so, Marx is intrigued by Aristotle’s failure to find an answer to exchange value, let alone Aristotle’s irrational dismissal of the need for one.
Equally peculiar to the question that got Marx going—how could Aristotle have failed to see the truth—is Marx’s answer. Rather than an answer that lies in the world of philosophy, Marx’s answer lies in the world of political economy. And the reason Aristotle couldn’t see the truth of exchange value is slavery. That is, the seemingly unrelated fact that Greek society happened to be a slave society was what prevented Aristotle from seeing the truth.
This is a remarkably brilliant argument, but it requires unpacking. Usually, we don’t think of economic and political facts as shaping our ability to see the truth, because we like to think that regardless of the context in which we are doing our thinking, we are free to think in any way we see fit. In other words, it shouldn’t matter that Greek society was a slave society, nor, for that matter, that our society was until recently also one, because we like to believe that our ability to discover the truth is independent from the kind of economic system in which we live. But Marx’s point is that this isn’t at all true. Like it or not, our society deeply shapes our ability to discover the truth, and so much so, that someone as brilliant as Aristotle didn’t see the truth of commodity exchange even though he was staring the problem in the face.
As Marx recognizes, in order to realize that the value of commodities arises from labor, that is, in order to realize that the labor that goes into every commodity serves as the commonality among them that then allows us to compare and exchange them, we have to first realize the equality of labor. In other words, until we realize that the labor of one human being is equivalent to the labor of another—until we realize that the labor that one person puts into one commodity is equivalent to the labor that another person puts another commodity—we can’t understand that labor is the basis on which we compare commodities. However, in order to see the equality of labor, we have to first realize the equality of the laborers involved in this labor, because it is this underlying equality that allows us to see their activity of labor as equal. In other words, if we don’t workers as equal, we can’t see their work as equal either. Or, more simply, to understand the basis on which we exchange commodities we have to first realize that people are equal.
However, as Marx notes, Aristotle lived in a slave society, and his society viewed slaves as fundamentally different than free citizens. As Aristotle explains in his own work, The Politics, slaves were fundamentally different than freemen because their “excellence” was found in their “bodies” rather than in their “souls.” In other words, slaves were those who were “naturally inferior” and who were therefore better off being ruled by their “superiors.” Consequently, the commodities that slaves produced could only but be seen as fundamentally different than those things produced by freemen. The basis of comparison was thereby lost.
Therefore, for Marx, the “secret” of the value of commodities could not be “deciphered … until the notion of human equality has already acquired the fixity of a popular prejudice.” That is, we couldn’t understand the principle of commodity exchange until we lived in a society that had come to see people as equal. But Aristotle’s society didn’t.
And so, as Marx summarizes, “The brilliancy of Aristotle’s genius is shown by this alone, that he discovered, in the expression of the value of commodities, a relation of equality. [But] The peculiar conditions of the society in which he lived, alone prevented him from discovering what, “in truth,” was at the bottom of this equality.” That is, Aristotle was brilliant for recognizing that the comparison of commodities implied an underlying similarity. However, the nature of his society prevented him from seeing the answer to this problem.
This aspect of Marx’s thought is not always appreciated, but for Marx, finding the truth is as much a matter of overcoming our own prejudices as it is about learning how to think about our world. He spent most of his time engaged in the latter type of thought, helping his readers more clearly think about their world. But in passages like this one about Aristotle, you can see that he clearly presupposes an audience who has overcome their prejudices, so that he can then show them how to understand things like the exchange value of commodities. After all, he couldn’t do so with someone like Aristotle, who, in being a product of his time, failed to realize the fundamental equality of human beings. But he can do this for us, who have been sufficiently liberated from such prejudices that we’re ready to move beyond them in order to understand the way that the world really works.
There were good reasons that Marx believed that we were finally ready to listen. Chief among them was Marx’s understanding of the chaotic nature of life under capitalism, because capitalism never rests for a moment, and it therefore never lets us rest either. And in such a world, it’s hard for any social prejudice to endure, because our prejudices can’t keep up with the rapid pace of social change. Or, as Marx famously wrote in the Communist Manifesto, “All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind.”
However, the problem with this is that Marx underestimated our willful avoidance of the truth. Aristotle’s prejudice might have been a product of his time, but Aristotle did realize that there was something to think about, and he then chose not to think about it. Moreover, Aristotle was a wealthy Athenian whose comfortable life could only exist by way of slave labor, and I have little doubt that his material comfort acted as a strong disincentive towards questioning any beliefs that might require a change in how he lived. That is, believing in slavery allowed Aristotle to be the philosopher he wanted to be, but questioning slavery might have undermined that life. And while capitalist societies have a hard time finding a set of social beliefs that endure for any period of time, such as the ancient belief in slavery, what does endure is our desire for these beliefs—we, like Aristotle, have a strong will against accepting any truths that might make our lives more difficult. So, we might not have a “train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions” on which to cling, but we’ve also learned to become much more active and creative in our self-deceptions. We’re all searchers, searching for anything but the truth.
And, at the risk of plugging my own work, this naturally leads to Kierkegaard. If Marx explored objective questions about the nature of our world, explaining how things like exchange value operate, Kierkegaard explored the subjective questions that pertained to our willful avoidance of those truths. Or, put in terms of Aristotle, Marx demonstrates the truth that Aristotle missed, while Kierkegaard explained why he wanted to miss it. Or, even more simply, Kierkegaard brings us to the world while Marx explains it for us.