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Democracy in America
by
Alexis deToqueville (1835)
Chapter 13:
GOVERNMENT OF THE DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA
[Excerpt]
CHARGES LEVIED BY THE
STATE UNDER THE RULE OF THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY. In all
communities citizens are divisible into certain classes--Habits of
each of these classes in the direction of public finances -- Why
public expenditure must tend to increase when the people govern --
What renders the extravagance of a democracy less to be feared in
America -- Public expenditure under a democracy.
BEFORE we can tell whether a democratic government is economical or
not we must establish a standard of comparison. The question
would be of easy solution if we were to draw a parallel between a
democratic republic and an absolute monarchy. The public
expenditure in the former would be found to be more considerable
than in the latter; such is the case with all free states compared
with those which are not so. It is certain that despotism
ruins individuals by preventing them from producing wealth much more
than by depriving them of what they have already produced; it dries
up the source of riches, while it usually respects acquired
property. Freedom, on the contrary, produces far more goods
than it destroys; and the nations which are favored by free
institutions invariably find that their resources increase even more
rapidly than their taxes.
My present object is to compare free nations with one another and to
point out the influence of democracy upon the finances of a state.
Communities as well as organic bodies are subject in their formation
to certain fixed rules from which they cannot depart. They are
composed of certain elements that are common to them at all times
and under all circumstances. The people may always be
mentally divided into three classes. The first of these
classes consists of the wealthy -- the second, of those who are in
easy circumstances; and the third is composed of those who have
little or no property and who subsist by the work that they perform
for the two superior orders. The proportion of the
individuals in these several divisions may vary according to the
condition of society, but the divisions themselves can never be
obliterated.
It is evident that each of these classes will exercise an influence
peculiar to its own instincts upon the administration of the
finances of the state. If the first of the three exclusively
possesses the legislative power, it is probable that it will not be
sparing of the public funds, because the taxes which are levied on a
large fortune only diminish the sum of superfluities and are, in
fact, but little felt. If the second class has the power of
making the laws, it will certainly not be lavish of taxes, because
nothing is so onerous as a large impost levied upon a small income.
The government of the middle classes appears to me the most
economical, I will not say the most enlightened, and certainly
not the most generous, of free governments.
Let us now suppose that the legislative authority is vested in the
lowest order: there are two striking reasons which show that the
tendency of the expenditures will be to increase, not to
diminish.
As the great majority of those who create the laws have no
taxable property, all the money that is spent for the community
appears to be spent to their advantage, at no cost of their own, and
those who have some little property readily find means of so
regulating the taxes that they weigh upon the wealthy and profit the
poor, although the rich cannot take the same advantage when they
are in possession of the government.
In countries in which the poor have the exclusive power of making
the laws, no great economy of public expenditure ought to be
expected; that expenditure will always be considerable either
because the taxes cannot weigh upon those who levy them or because
they are levied in such a manner as not to reach these poorer
classes. In other words, the government of the
democracy is the only one under which the power that votes the taxes
escapes the payment of them.
In vain will it be objected that the true interest of the people is
to spare the fortunes of the rich, since they must suffer in the
long run from the general impoverishment which will ensue. Is
it not the true interest of kings also, to render their subjects
happy, and of nobles to admit recruits into their order on suitable
grounds? If remote advantages had power to prevail over the
passions and the exigencies of the moment, no such thing as a
tyrannical sovereign or an exclusive aristocracy could ever exist.
Again, it may be objected that the poor never have the sole power of
making the laws; but I reply that wherever universal suffrage has
been established, the majority unquestionably exercises the
legislative authority; and if it be proved that the poor always
constitute the majority, may it not be added with perfect truth that
in the countries in which they possess the elective franchise
they possess the sole power of making the laws? It is
certain that in all the nations of the world the greater number
has always consisted of those persons who hold no property, or of
those whose property is insufficient to exempt them from the
necessity of working in order to procure a comfortable subsistence.
Universal suffrage, therefore, in point of fact does invest
the poor with the government of society.
The disastrous influence that popular authority may sometimes
exercise upon the finances of a state was clearly seen in some of
the democratic republics of antiquity, in which the public
treasure was exhausted in order to relieve indigent citizens or
to supply games and theatrical amusements for the populace. It
is true that the representative system was then almost unknown, and
that at the present time the influence of popular passions is less
felt in the conduct of public affairs; but it may well be
believed that in the end the delegate will conform to the principles
of his constituents and favor their propensities as much as their
interests.
The extravagance of democracy is less to be dreaded, however, in
proportion as the people acquire a share of property, because, on
the one hand, the contributions of the rich are then less needed,
and, on the other, it is more difficult to impose taxes that will
not reach the imposers. On this account universal suffrage
would be less dangerous in France than in England, where nearly all
the taxable property is vested in the hands of a few. America, where
the great majority of the citizens possess some fortune, is in a
still more favorable position than France.
There are further causes that may increase the amount of public
expenditure in democratic countries. When an aristocracy
governs, those who conduct the affairs of state are exempted, by
their very station in society, from any want: content with
their lot, power and renown are the only objects for which they
strive; placed far above the obscure crowd, they do not always
clearly perceive how the well-being of the mass of the people will
redound to their own grandeur. They are not, indeed, callous
to the sufferings of the poor; but they cannot feel those miseries
as acutely as if they were themselves partakers of them.
Provided that the people appear to submit to their lot, the rulers
are satisfied and demand nothing further from the government.
An aristocracy is more intent upon the means of maintaining than of
improving its condition.
When, on the contrary, the people are invested with the supreme
authority, they are perpetually seeking for something better,
because they feel the hardship of their lot. The thirst for
improvement extends to a thousand different objects; it descends to
the most trivial details, and especially to those changes which are
accompanied with considerable expense, since the object is to
improve the condition of the poor, who cannot pay for the
improvement. Moreover, all democratic communities are
agitated by an ill-defined excitement and a kind of feverish
impatience that creates a multitude of innovations, almost all of
which are expensive.
In monarchies and aristocracies those who are ambitious flatter the
natural taste which the rulers have for power and renown and thus
often incite them to very costly undertakings. In
democracies, where the rulers are poor and in want, they can be
courted only by such means as will improve their well-being, and
these improvements cannot take place without money.
When a people begin to reflect on their situation, they discover a
multitude of wants that they had not before been conscious of, and
to satisfy these exigencies recourse must be had to the coffers of
the state. Hence it happens that the public charges
increase in proportion to the civilization of the country, and
taxes are augmented as knowledge becomes more diffused.
The last cause which renders a democratic government dearer than any
other is that a democracy does not always lessen its expenditures
even when it wishes to do so, because it does not understand the art
of being economical. As it frequently changes its purposes, and
still more frequently its agents, its undertakings are often
ill-conducted or left unfinished; in the former case the state
spends sums out of all proportion to the end that it proposes to
accomplish; in the latter the expense brings no return.
For full text see:
http://xroads.virginia.edu/~HYPER/Detoc/1_ch13.htm |
