Fascinating concept – invented by Thomas Paine!

Pairs very nicely with UBI.

A New Capitalism: The Case for Universal Property - Evonomics
https://evonomics.com/a-new-capitalism-the-case-for-universal-property/
(via Instapaper)

October 24, 2021

Exc

Capitalism as we know it has two egregious flaws: it relentlessly widens 
inequality and destroys nature. Its ‘invisible hand,’ which is supposed to 
transform individual self-seeking into widely shared well-being, too often 
doesn’t, and governments can’t keep up with the conse­quences. For billions of 
people around the world, the chal­lenge of our era is to repair or replace 
capitalism before its cumu­­la­tive harms become irreparable.

Among those who would repair capitalism, policy ideas abound. Typic­al­ly, they 
involve more government regulations, taxes and spending. Few, if any, would 
fundamentally alter the dynamics of markets them­selves. Among those who would 
replace capitalism, many would nationalize a good deal of private property and 
expand government’s role in regu­lating the rest.

This book explores the terrain midway between repairing and re­pla­cing 
capi­tal­ism. It envisions a transformed market economy in which private 
pro­perty and busi­nesses are complemented by universal pro­perty and fiduciary 
trusts whose beneficiaries are future generations and all living persons 
equally.

Economists wrangle over monetary, fiscal and regulatory policies but pay little 
attention to property rights. Their models all assume that property rights 
remain just as they are forever. But this needn’t and shouldn’t be the case. My 
premise is that capitalism’s most grie­vous flaws are, at root, problems of 
property rights and must be ad­dres­­sed at that level.

.

Property rights in modern economies are grants by govern­ments of permis­sion 
to use, lease, sell or bequeath specific assets — and just as im­port­antly, to 
ex­clude others from doing those things. The assets involved can be tangible, 
like land and machinery, or intangible, like shares of stock or songs.

Taken as a whole, property rights are akin to gravity: they curve econ­omic 
space-time. Their tugs and repulsions are every­where, and noth­­­ing can avoid 
them. And just as water flows inex­ora­bly toward the ocean, so money, goods 
and power flow inexorably toward pro­per­ty rights. Gov­ern­­ments can no more 
staunch these flows than King Canute could halt the tides.

That said, the most oft-forgotten fact about property rights is that they do 
not exist in nature; they are constructs of human minds and soci­e­ties. The 
assets to which they apply may exist in nature, but the rights of humans to do 
things with them, or prevent others from doing them, do not. Their design and 
allocation are entirely up to us.

In this book, I take our existing fabric of property rights as both a given and 
merely the latest iteration in an evolutionary process that has been and will 
continue to be altered by living humans. Future iterations of the fabric will 
therefore be a product not only of the past, but also of our imagi­na­tion and 
political will in the future. And, while eliminating exist­ing pro­perty rights 
is difficult, adding new ones is less so.

Before we talk about universal property, we need to look at co-inherited 
wealth, for that is what universal property is based on.

A full inventory of co-inherited wealth would fill pages. Consider, for 
starters, air, water, topsoil, sunlight, fire, photo­syn­thesis, seeds, 
elec­­tri­city, minerals, fuels, cultivable plants, domesticable animals, law, 
sports, religion, calendars, recipes, mathema­tics, jazz, libraries and the 
internet. Without these and many more, our lives would be incalculably poorer.

Universal property does not involve all of all those wonderful things. Rather, 
it focuses on a subset: the large, complex natural and social systems that 
support market economies, yet are excluded from repre­sentation in them. This 
subset includes natural ecosystems like the Earth’s atmosphere and watersheds, 
and collective human constructs such as our legal, monetary and communications 
systems. All these systems are enormously valuable, in some cases priceless. 
Not only do our daily lives depend on them; they add prodigious value to 
mar­kets, en­ab­ling corporations and private for­tunes to grow to gargan­tu­an 
sizes. Yet the systems were not built by anyone living today; they are all 
gifts we inherit together. So it is fair to ask, who are their bene­­ficial 
owners?

There are, essentially, three possibilities: no one, government, or all of us 
together equally. This book is about what happens if we choose the third 
option, and create property rights to apply it.

Let’s start with an obvious question: how much is this subset of co-inherited 
wealth worth? While it is impos­sible to put a precise number on this, 
estimates have been made. In 2000, the late Nobel economist Herbert Simon 
stated, “If we are very gen­er­­ous with our­selves, we might claim that we 
‘earned’ as much as one fifth of [our present wealth]. The rest [eighty 
percent] is patrimony asso­ci­a­ted with being a member of an enormously 
productive social sys­tem, which has accumulated a vast store of physical 
capital and an even larger store of intellectual capital.”

Simon arrived at his estimate by comparing incomes in highly devel­oped 
economies with those in earlier stages of development. The huge differ­­en­ces 
are due not to the rates of economic activity today — indeed, young economies 
often grow faster than mature ones — but to the much larger differences in 
institutions and know-how accumu­lated over decades. A few years later, World 
Bank economists William Easterly and Ross Levine con­firmed Simon’s math. They 
conducted a detailed study of rich and poor countries and asked what made them 
different. They found that it wasn’t natural resources or the latest 
technologies. Rather, it was their social assets: the rule of law, pro­per­ty 
rights, a well-organized banking system, economic transpar­ency, and a lack of 
corruption. All these collective assets played a far great­er role than 
anything else.

The preceding analysis doesn’t include ecosystems gifted to us by nature, but 
Robert Costanza and a worldwide team of scientists and econ­o­­mists took a 
crack that in 1997. They found that natural eco­systems gen­erate a global flow 
of benefits — including fresh water supply, soil formation, nutrient cycling, 
waste treatment, pollination, raw mater­ials and climate regulation — worth 
between $25 trillion and $87 trillion a year. That compares with a gross world 
product of about $80 trillion.

These calculations are precise enough to sug­gest that we are greatly confused 
about where our wealth today comes from. We think it comes from the fevered 
efforts of today’s businesses and workers, but in fact they merely add icing to 
a cake that was baked long ago.

WHERE TODAY’S WEALTH COMES FROM


The calculations also suggest that we should devote far more atten­tion to 
co-inherited wealth than we currently do. Nowadays, econo­mics textbooks don’t 
even mention such wealth, much less its mag­ni­­tude. Nor do Wall Street 
analysts or financial report­ers. This is a grievous oversight that greatly 
impedes our understanding of our economy. It is like trying to comprehend the 
universe without taking dark matter into account, or ana­lyzing a business 
while ignor­ing over eighty percent of its assets.

Paying more attention to co-inherited wealth, however, is just a first step. If 
we want to change mar­ket outcomes, we need to functionally connect this wealth 
to real-time econ­om­ic activity. And to do that, we need property rights, 
managers and bene­ficial owners. 

What is it?

Universal property, as I use the term in this book, is a set of 
non-transferable rights backed by a subset of wealth we inherit toge­ther. Such 
property isn’t mine, yours or the state’s, but ours — literally held in trust 
for all of us, living and yet-to-be born. It belongs to us not because we 
earned it but because we co-inherited it, as if from common ances­tors. This 
co-inheritance is, or should be, a uni­­versal econ­omic right, just as voting 
is a universal political right.

To say that all of us are co-inheritors of universal property does not, 
however, mean that we should manage it ourselves. That job should be assigned 
to two types of insti­tu­tions: trusts with a fiduciary respon­­­si­bility to 
future genera­tions, and pension-like funds that pay equal divi­dends to all 
living persons within their juris­di­ctions. An example of the latter is the 
Alaska Per­manent Fund, which has paid equal divi­dends to every Alaskan since 
1980. Exam­ples of the former include large land trusts, such as the National 
Trust, a conserver of land and historic buildings in the UK, and thou­sands of 
local trusts whose missions include land conser­va­tion, affordable housing, 
edu­ca­­tion and community development.

An archetypal, albeit theoretical, example of universal property is the ‘sky 
trust’ I pro­posed in my 2001 book, Who Owns The Sky? It is arche­typal because 
it includes features of pension-like funds and fiduciary trusts simultaneously. 
In it, a fiduciary trust is charged with protect­ing the integrity of the 
atmo­sphere (or one nation’s share of it) for future generations. It auctions a 
de­clining quantity of permits to dump carbon into our sky, and divides the 
proceeds equally. A ver­sion of this model was intro­duced in Congress in 2009 
by Represen­ta­tive (now Senator) Chris van Hollen of Maryland and 
re-introduced several times since.

A bit of history may be useful here. For millennia, humans lived in tribes in 
which almost all property was communal. Indivi­du­al land ownership emerged at 
the beginning of the Holocene when our ances­­tors became settled 
agriculturalists. Rulers granted owner­ship of land to heads of families, 
usually males. Often, military con­quer­ors distributed land to their 
lieutenants. Titles could then be passed to heirs — typically, oldest sons got 
everything, a practice known as primogeniture. In Europe, Roman law codified 
these practices.

The Roman Institutes of Justinian distinguished three kinds of property:

• res privatae, private property owned by individuals, including land and 
personal items;

• res publicae, public property owned by the state, such as public buildings, 
aqueducts and roads; and

• res communes, common property, including air, water and shore­lines.

The Institutes also identified a category called res nullius, or‘nobody’s 
things,’ that included uninhabited land and wild animals. Such things weren’t 
immune to propertization; they just hadn’t been pro­pertized yet. Uninhabited 
land could be privatized by occupying it, wild ani­mals by capturing them. A 
bird in hand was property; a bird in the bush was not.

In England during the Middle Ages, most of the valuable land was pri­vately 
owned by barons, the Church and the Crown, but sizable com­mon areas were also 
set aside for villagers. These commons were essential for the villagers’­ 
sustenance: they provided food, water, fire­wood, building materials and 
medicines.

There were many battles over what should be private and common. Until 1215, 
English kings granted exclusive fishing rights to their lieges; then, the Magna 
Carta established fisheries and forests as res communes. How­ever, starting in 
the seventeenth century and contin­uing into the nine­teenth, in a pro­cess 
known as enclosure, local gentry fenced off village commons and converted them 
to private holdings. Impover­ished peasants then drifted to cities and became 
industrial workers. Land­lords invested their agri­cul­tural profits in 
manufacturing, and modern times, economically speaking, began.

Universal property lies some­where between indivi­du­al and state proper­ty. In 
Roman terms, it converts a large swath of res nullius into a version of res 
communes: instead of being owned by nobody, many gifts of nature and society 
would be owned beneficially by all.

While we are thinking historically, it is worth remembering that the limited 
liability corporation, which is so dominant today, is a rela­tive­­ly recent 
phenomenon. Prior to the nineteenth century, there were barely a handful of 
corporations in the UK and US; the dominant form of busi­ness organization was 
the partnership (in which all partners are liable for the partnership’s debts). 
Limited liability cor­por­­­a­tions arose only when it became necessary to 
amass capital from strangers.

Similarly, until the eighteenth century, there was no such thing as 
intel­lectual property. Ideas and inven­tions floated freely in the air. The 
world’s first copyright law, the Statute of Anne, was passed in England in 
1710. Today, the world is flooded with copy­rights, patents, trademarks and 
trade secrets, all essen­­tial to the profits of giant corporations.

Like intellectual property, universal property can turn intangible assets into 
rights respected by markets and capable of generating income. And like 
corporations that manage assets on behalf of share­­holders, trusts can manage 
assets on behalf of future genera­tions and all of us equally. The rea­son 
there is more intel­lectual than uni­ver­sal property today is that capi­tal 
o­wners have fought for their most bene­ficial forms of pro­perty rights, while 
we, the people, have not. But that could change if we set our minds to it.

The idea of universal property isn’t new. It was the invention of Thomas Paine, 
the English-born essayist who inspired Ameri­ca’s revo­lution and much else. 
Indeed, virtually all the ideas in this book can be traced back to a single 
essay he wrote in the winter of 1795/96.

Paine led an extraordinary life. Unlike other American Founders, he wasn’t born 
to privilege. The son of a Quaker corset-maker, he emi­grated to Philadelphia 
in 1774 and found himself in the thick of pre-revolu­tionary ferment. Inspired, 
he wrote a pamphlet called Common Sense, which quickly sold half a million 
copies (in a nation of three million) and transformed the prevail­ing 
discontent with King George III into ardour for independence and a united 
democratic republic.

And that was just the beginning. Another series of essays, The Ameri­can 
Crisis, kept the patriotic flame alive as the war for independence slogged. 
After America’s victory, Paine returned to England to raise money for an iron 
bridge he wanted to build over the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia. While 
there, he wrote Rights of Man in response to Edmund Burke’s re­pu­di­ation of 
the French Revolution. Charged with sedition, he escaped to France, where he 
was greeted as a hero and elected to the National Assembly. Then came the 
Jacobin Terror, during which he was sen­ten­ced to death for having opposed the 
exe­cu­tion of Louis XVI. He spent ten months in Luxem­bourg Prison before 
being saved by the American ambassador, James Monroe, who persuaded his captors 
that Paine was a citizen of the United States, France’s ally, not Britain, its 
foe.

It was during his years in France that Paine wrote his last great essay, 
Agrarian Justice. In Rights of Man, Paine had criticized the English Poor Laws 
and argued for what today would be called a welfare state, in­clud­­ing 
universal education, pensions for the elderly and employment for the urban 
poor, all paid for by taxes. In Agrarian Justice he went farther, arguing that 
poverty should be systemically eliminated with universal income from jointly 
inherited property.

Get Evonomics in your inbox

There are two kinds of property, he wrote: “firstly, property that comes to us 
from the Creator of the universe — such as the Earth, air and water; and 
secondly, artificial or acquired property — the inven­tion of men.” Because 
humans have different talents and luck, the latter kind of property must 
necessarily be distributed unequally, but the first kind belongs to everyone 
equally. It is the “legitimate birth­right” of every man and woman.

To Paine, this was more than an abstract idea; it was something that could be 
implemented within a laissez faire economy. But how? How could the Earth, air 
and water possibly be distributed equally to every­one? Paine’s practical 
answer was that, though the assets them­selves can’t be distributed equally, 
income derived from them can be.

How again? Here Paine came up with an ingenious solution. He pro­posed a 
‘national fund’ to pay every man and woman about $18,000 (in today’s dollars) 
at age twenty-one, and $12,000 a year after age fifty-five. In effect, nature’s 
gifts would be transformed into grants and annuities that would give every 
young person a start in life and every older person a dignified retirement. 
Revenue would come from ‘ground rent’ paid by private land owners upon their 
deaths. Paine used con­tem­­porary French and English data to show that a ten 
per­cent inheritance tax — his mechanism for collecting ground rent — could 
fully pay for the universal grants and annuities.

An important nuance here is that the rent would be col­lect­ed not only on a 
deceased per­son’s land, but on his en­tire estate. It would thereby recoup 
many of soci­ety’sgifts as well as nature’s. And in Paine’s view, there was 
nothing wrong with this. “Sepa­rate an indi­vidual from soci­ety, and give him 
an island or a continent to possess, and he cannot…be rich. All accu­mu­lation 
therefore of personal pro­perty, beyond a man’s own hands produce, is derived 
to him by living in society; and he owes, on every principle of justice, of 
gratitude, and of civiliza­tion, a part of that accu­mulation back again to 
society from whence the whole came.” What Paine invented here, in my 
retrospective opinion, was a prescient stroke of genius. Long before Wall 
Street sliced collateralized debt obli­gations into risk-based tranches, Paine 
designed a simple way to mone­tize co-inherited wealth for the equal benefit of 
everyone. It is a model as relevant — and revolu­tion­ary — today as it was 
then.

Excerpt from Ours: The Case for Universal Property by Peter Barnes


Donating = Changing Economics. And Changing the World.

Evonomics is free, it’s a labor of love, and it's an expense. We spend hundreds 
of hours and lots of dollars each month creating, curating, and promoting 
content that drives the next evolution of economics. If you're like us — if you 
think there’s a key leverage point here for making the world a better place — 
please consider donating. We’ll use your donation to deliver even more 
game-changing content, and to spread the word about that content to influential 
thinkers far and wide.

MONTHLY DONATION 
$3 / month
$7 / month
$10 / month
$25 / month

ONE-TIME DONATION 
You can also become a one-time patron with a single donation in any amount. 
If you liked this article, you'll also like these other Evonomics articles...


Monopoly Was Invented to Reveal the Toxic Greed of Capitalism
New Economics Says Prosperity Doesn't Trickle Down. It Comes from the Middle-Out
Solving the Crisis of Extractive Capitalism
How the Postal System and the Printing Press Transformed European Markets

BE INVOLVED

We welcome you to take part in the next evolution of economics. Sign up now to 
be kept in the loop!



Sent from my iPhone

-- 
-- 
Centroids: The Center of the Radical Centrist Community 
<[email protected]>
Google Group: http://groups.google.com/group/RadicalCentrism
Radical Centrism website and blog: http://RadicalCentrism.org

--- 
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups 
"Centroids: The Center of the Radical Centrist Community" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email 
to [email protected].
To view this discussion on the web visit 
https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/RadicalCentrism/7135107B-A5DC-4481-BB34-C445E645DA41%40radicalcentrism.org.

Reply via email to