A commodity's price of production can change for only two reasons:
(1) The general rate of profit changes. This can happen only in one of two ways: either the average rate of surplus-value itself changes, or — with the average rate of surplus-value staying the same — the ratio between the total surplus-value appropriated and the total social capital advanced changes.
If we set aside the cases where the rate of surplus-value changes only because wages are pushed below, or rise above, their normal level — and movements of that kind count only as oscillations — then the rate of surplus-value can change only because the value of labour-power has fallen or risen. And neither of those can happen without a change in the productivity of the labour that produces the means of subsistence — that is, without a change in the value of the commodities that go into the worker's consumption.
Alternatively, the ratio between the total surplus-value appropriated and the total social capital advanced changes. Since this change does not start from the rate of surplus-value, it must start from the total capital — specifically from its constant part. Looked at technically, the amount of that constant part grows or shrinks in proportion to the labour-power bought by the variable capital, and the value of that amount rises or falls as its own quantity rises or falls — so it also rises or falls in proportion to the value of the variable capital. If the same labour sets more constant capital in motion, labour has become more productive; if less, then less productive. So a change has taken place in the productivity of labour, and a change must have occurred in the value of certain commodities.
For both cases, this law holds. If a commodity's price of production changes because the general rate of profit has changed, the commodity's own value may well have stayed the same. But some other commodities must have changed in value.
(2) The general rate of profit stays the same. Then a commodity's price of production can change only because the commodity's own value has changed — because more or less labour is now needed to reproduce it, whether because the labour that produces the commodity itself in its finished form has become more or less productive, or the labour that produces what goes into making it. Cotton yarn, for instance, can fall in price of production either because raw cotton is now produced more cheaply, or because the labour of spinning has become more productive thanks to better machinery.
The price of production is, as shown earlier, k + p — cost price plus profit. That is the same as k + kp', where k, the cost price, is an indeterminate magnitude that varies from one sphere of production to another, and is everywhere equal to the value of the constant and variable capital used up in producing the commodity, while p' is the average rate of profit reckoned as a percentage. If k = 200 and p' = 20 per cent, the price of production is k + kp' = 200 + 200 × 20/100 = 200 + 40 = 240. It is clear that this price of production can stay exactly the same even though the value of the commodities has changed.
Every change in a commodity's price of production ultimately comes down to a change in value somewhere. But not every change in a commodity's value has to show up as a change in its price of production — because that price is fixed not just by the value of this one commodity, but by the total value of all commodities together. So a change in commodity A can be balanced by an opposite change in commodity B, so that the general proportion stays the same.
We have seen how the price of production comes to diverge from value, and it happens in two ways:
(1) what gets added to a commodity's cost price is not the surplus-value actually contained in it, but the average profit;
(2) a commodity's price of production, once it has diverged from value in this way, itself becomes one of the elements in the cost price of other commodities. So a commodity's cost price can already contain a divergence from the value of the means of production it used up — and this is separate from, and additional to, whatever divergence comes into that same commodity's own price through the gap between average profit and surplus-value.
So it is possible that even for commodities produced by capitals of average composition, the cost price diverges from the sum of the values of the elements that make it up. Suppose the average composition is 80c + 20v. It is possible that, in the real capitals composed this way, the 80c is larger or smaller than the value of c, the constant capital — because this c is itself made up of commodities whose price of production diverges from their value. In the same way, the 20v could diverge from its value, if the commodities that go into the worker's consumption have a price of production different from their value; the worker would then have to work more or less time to buy those commodities back, performing more or less necessary labour than would be needed if the prices of production of the necessary means of subsistence coincided with their values.
None of these possible deviations makes the propositions laid down for commodities of average composition any less correct. The amount of profit that falls to these commodities is equal to the amount of surplus-value actually contained in them. Take the capital above, composed 80c + 20v: what matters for working out the surplus-value is not whether these figures express real values, but how they stand to each other — namely that v is one-fifth of the total capital and c is four-fifths. Whenever that holds, as assumed above, the surplus-value produced by v is equal to the average profit.
And because it is equal to the average profit, the price of production — cost price plus profit, k + p = k + s — is in practice equated with the value of the commodity. That is: a rise or fall in wages leaves k + p just as unchanged in this case as it would leave the value of the commodity unchanged, and produces only a corresponding movement the other way, a fall or a rise, in the rate of profit. For if the price of these commodities did change as a result of a rise or fall in wages, the rate of profit in these spheres of average composition would end up standing above or below its level in the other spheres. Only so far as the price stays unchanged does the sphere of average composition keep its profit level in line with the other spheres.
So in practice the same thing happens here as if the products of this sphere were sold at their real value. And when commodities are sold at their real values, it is clear that, other things being equal, a rise or fall in wages produces a corresponding fall or rise in profit, but no change in the value of the commodities — and that under all circumstances, a rise or fall in wages can never affect the value of commodities, only ever the magnitude of surplus-value.
It has already been said that competition equalizes the profit rates of the different spheres of production into the average rate of profit, and by doing so turns the values of the products of these spheres into prices of production. This happens through a continual transfer of capital from one sphere into another, wherever profit currently stands above the average — though this has to be considered alongside the profit fluctuations that come with the lean and fat years that follow one another in a given branch of industry over a given period. This ceaseless emigration and immigration of capital between different spheres of production produces rising and falling movements in the rate of profit, which more or less balance one another out and so tend to reduce the rate of profit everywhere to one common, general level.
This movement of capital is always caused, in the first place, by the state of market prices — which push profits above the general average level in one place and down below it in another. For now we leave commercial capital aside; we are not dealing with it here, though the paroxysms of speculation that suddenly flare up around certain favoured articles show that it can pull masses of capital out of one line of business with extraordinary speed and throw them just as suddenly into another. But in every sphere of actual production — industry, agriculture, mining, and so on — moving capital from one sphere to another is a considerable difficulty, especially because of the fixed capital already invested there. Experience also shows that when a branch of industry, the cotton industry for instance, yields extraordinarily high profits at one time, it brings very low profit, or even a loss, at another — so that, over a certain cycle of years, the average profit works out much the same as in other branches. And capital soon learns to reckon with this experience.
What competition does not show is the determination of value that governs the movement of production — the values standing behind prices of production, which ultimately determine them. What competition shows instead is this: (1) average profits that are independent of the organic composition of capital in the different spheres of production, and so also independent of how much living labour a given capital appropriates in a given sphere; (2) rises and falls in prices of production as a result of changes in the level of wages — a phenomenon that, at first glance, flatly contradicts the value-relation of commodities; (3) fluctuations in market prices that pull the average market price of commodities over a given period down, not to the market value, but to a market price of production that diverges considerably from that market value.
All these appearances seem to contradict, equally, both the determination of value by labour-time and the nature of surplus-value as unpaid surplus-labour. So in competition everything appears upside down. The finished shape economic relations take on the surface, in their real existence — and so too in the ideas by which the people who carry and work these relations try to make sense of them — is very different from their inner, essential but concealed, core shape and from the concept that answers to it. It is in fact the reverse of that core, its very opposite.
Furthermore: once capitalist production has reached a certain degree of development, the equalizing of the different profit rates of the various spheres into a general rate of profit no longer happens only through the pull and push by which market prices attract or repel capital. Once average prices, and the market prices that go with them, have settled for a while, individual capitalists become aware that certain differences are being evened out in this equalization — so that they start building those differences straight into the reckonings they make against one another. In the capitalists' view of things these differences live on, and get entered into the books as grounds for compensation.
The basic idea behind this is average profit itself — the idea that capitals of equal size must yield equally large profits in the same span of time. And underneath that idea lies a further one: that the capital of each sphere of production has to participate, in proportion to its size, in the total surplus-value squeezed out of the workers by the total social capital — or, put another way, that each particular capital is only a piece of the total capital, and each capitalist in effect a shareholder in the whole joint enterprise, drawing his share of the total profit in proportion to the size of his stake.
The capitalist's calculations rest on this idea. For instance: a capital that turns over more slowly — either because the commodity stays longer in the production process, or because it has to be sold in distant markets — still counts in the profit it loses by this delay, and so compensates itself with a mark-up on the price. Or again: capital investments exposed to greater risk, shipping for instance, receive compensation through a mark-up on price. Once capitalist production, and insurance along with it, has developed, the risk is in fact the same for all spheres of production (see Corbet); but the more exposed ones pay the higher insurance premium, and get it back in the price of their commodities.
In practice, all of this comes down to this: whatever circumstance makes one capital investment less profitable and another more profitable — and within certain limits all investments are held equally necessary — gets entered into the books once and for all as a valid ground for compensation, without the working of competition being needed all over again to show that such a motive, or such a factor in the reckoning, is justified.
Only the capitalist forgets — or rather does not see, because competition does not show it to him — that all these grounds for compensation, which capitalists assert against one another when they reckon up commodity prices across the different branches of production, come down merely to the fact that they all, in proportion to their capital, have an equally large claim on the common booty, the total surplus-value. Instead, because the profit he pockets is different from the surplus-value he actually squeezes out, it seems to him that his grounds for compensation do not equalize his share in the total surplus-value but themselves create the profit — as if the profit simply arose from the mark-up, however it is justified, added to the cost price of the commodities.
What was said in Chapter 7 about the capitalist's ideas concerning the source of surplus-value also holds, moreover, for average profit. Here the picture differs only in this: with the market price of the commodities given, and the exploitation of labour given, the saving in cost prices depends on individual skill, attentiveness, and so on.
A commodity's price of production can change for only two reasons:
(1) The general rate of profit changes. This can happen only in one of two ways: either the average rate of surplus-value itself changes, or — with the average rate of surplus-value staying the same — the ratio between the total surplus-value appropriated and the total social capital advanced changes.
If we set aside the cases where the rate of surplus-value changes only because wages are pushed below, or rise above, their normal level — and movements of that kind count only as oscillations — then the rate of surplus-value can change only because the value of labour-power has fallen or risen. And neither of those can happen without a change in the productivity of the labour that produces the means of subsistence — that is, without a change in the value of the commodities that go into the worker's consumption.
Alternatively, the ratio between the total surplus-value appropriated and the total social capital advanced changes. Since this change does not start from the rate of surplus-value, it must start from the total capital — specifically from its constant part. Looked at technically, the amount of that constant part grows or shrinks in proportion to the labour-power bought by the variable capital, and the value of that amount rises or falls as its own quantity rises or falls — so it also rises or falls in proportion to the value of the variable capital. If the same labour sets more constant capital in motion, labour has become more productive; if less, then less productive. So a change has taken place in the productivity of labour, and a change must have occurred in the value of certain commodities.
For both cases, this law holds. If a commodity's price of production changes because the general rate of profit has changed, the commodity's own value may well have stayed the same. But some other commodities must have changed in value.
(2) The general rate of profit stays the same. Then a commodity's price of production can change only because the commodity's own value has changed — because more or less labour is now needed to reproduce it, whether because the labour that produces the commodity itself in its finished form has become more or less productive, or the labour that produces what goes into making it. Cotton yarn, for instance, can fall in price of production either because raw cotton is now produced more cheaply, or because the labour of spinning has become more productive thanks to better machinery.
The price of production is, as shown earlier, k + p — cost price plus profit. That is the same as k + kp', where k, the cost price, is an indeterminate magnitude that varies from one sphere of production to another, and is everywhere equal to the value of the constant and variable capital used up in producing the commodity, while p' is the average rate of profit reckoned as a percentage. If k = 200 and p' = 20 per cent, the price of production is k + kp' = 200 + 200 × 20/100 = 200 + 40 = 240. It is clear that this price of production can stay exactly the same even though the value of the commodities has changed.
Every change in a commodity's price of production ultimately comes down to a change in value somewhere. But not every change in a commodity's value has to show up as a change in its price of production — because that price is fixed not just by the value of this one commodity, but by the total value of all commodities together. So a change in commodity A can be balanced by an opposite change in commodity B, so that the general proportion stays the same.
We have seen how the price of production comes to diverge from value, and it happens in two ways:
(1) what gets added to a commodity's cost price is not the surplus-value actually contained in it, but the average profit;
(2) a commodity's price of production, once it has diverged from value in this way, itself becomes one of the elements in the cost price of other commodities. So a commodity's cost price can already contain a divergence from the value of the means of production it used up — and this is separate from, and additional to, whatever divergence comes into that same commodity's own price through the gap between average profit and surplus-value.
So it is possible that even for commodities produced by capitals of average composition, the cost price diverges from the sum of the values of the elements that make it up. Suppose the average composition is 80c + 20v. It is possible that, in the real capitals composed this way, the 80c is larger or smaller than the value of c, the constant capital — because this c is itself made up of commodities whose price of production diverges from their value. In the same way, the 20v could diverge from its value, if the commodities that go into the worker's consumption have a price of production different from their value; the worker would then have to work more or less time to buy those commodities back, performing more or less necessary labour than would be needed if the prices of production of the necessary means of subsistence coincided with their values.
None of these possible deviations makes the propositions laid down for commodities of average composition any less correct. The amount of profit that falls to these commodities is equal to the amount of surplus-value actually contained in them. Take the capital above, composed 80c + 20v: what matters for working out the surplus-value is not whether these figures express real values, but how they stand to each other — namely that v is one-fifth of the total capital and c is four-fifths. Whenever that holds, as assumed above, the surplus-value produced by v is equal to the average profit.
And because it is equal to the average profit, the price of production — cost price plus profit, k + p = k + s — is in practice equated with the value of the commodity. That is: a rise or fall in wages leaves k + p just as unchanged in this case as it would leave the value of the commodity unchanged, and produces only a corresponding movement the other way, a fall or a rise, in the rate of profit. For if the price of these commodities did change as a result of a rise or fall in wages, the rate of profit in these spheres of average composition would end up standing above or below its level in the other spheres. Only so far as the price stays unchanged does the sphere of average composition keep its profit level in line with the other spheres.
So in practice the same thing happens here as if the products of this sphere were sold at their real value. And when commodities are sold at their real values, it is clear that, other things being equal, a rise or fall in wages produces a corresponding fall or rise in profit, but no change in the value of the commodities — and that under all circumstances, a rise or fall in wages can never affect the value of commodities, only ever the magnitude of surplus-value.
It has already been said that competition equalizes the profit rates of the different spheres of production into the average rate of profit, and by doing so turns the values of the products of these spheres into prices of production. This happens through a continual transfer of capital from one sphere into another, wherever profit currently stands above the average — though this has to be considered alongside the profit fluctuations that come with the lean and fat years that follow one another in a given branch of industry over a given period. This ceaseless emigration and immigration of capital between different spheres of production produces rising and falling movements in the rate of profit, which more or less balance one another out and so tend to reduce the rate of profit everywhere to one common, general level.
This movement of capital is always caused, in the first place, by the state of market prices — which push profits above the general average level in one place and down below it in another. For now we leave commercial capital aside; we are not dealing with it here, though the paroxysms of speculation that suddenly flare up around certain favoured articles show that it can pull masses of capital out of one line of business with extraordinary speed and throw them just as suddenly into another. But in every sphere of actual production — industry, agriculture, mining, and so on — moving capital from one sphere to another is a considerable difficulty, especially because of the fixed capital already invested there. Experience also shows that when a branch of industry, the cotton industry for instance, yields extraordinarily high profits at one time, it brings very low profit, or even a loss, at another — so that, over a certain cycle of years, the average profit works out much the same as in other branches. And capital soon learns to reckon with this experience.
What competition does not show is the determination of value that governs the movement of production — the values standing behind prices of production, which ultimately determine them. What competition shows instead is this: (1) average profits that are independent of the organic composition of capital in the different spheres of production, and so also independent of how much living labour a given capital appropriates in a given sphere; (2) rises and falls in prices of production as a result of changes in the level of wages — a phenomenon that, at first glance, flatly contradicts the value-relation of commodities; (3) fluctuations in market prices that pull the average market price of commodities over a given period down, not to the market value, but to a market price of production that diverges considerably from that market value.
All these appearances seem to contradict, equally, both the determination of value by labour-time and the nature of surplus-value as unpaid surplus-labour. So in competition everything appears upside down. The finished shape economic relations take on the surface, in their real existence — and so too in the ideas by which the people who carry and work these relations try to make sense of them — is very different from their inner, essential but concealed, core shape and from the concept that answers to it. It is in fact the reverse of that core, its very opposite.
Furthermore: once capitalist production has reached a certain degree of development, the equalizing of the different profit rates of the various spheres into a general rate of profit no longer happens only through the pull and push by which market prices attract or repel capital. Once average prices, and the market prices that go with them, have settled for a while, individual capitalists become aware that certain differences are being evened out in this equalization — so that they start building those differences straight into the reckonings they make against one another. In the capitalists' view of things these differences live on, and get entered into the books as grounds for compensation.
The basic idea behind this is average profit itself — the idea that capitals of equal size must yield equally large profits in the same span of time. And underneath that idea lies a further one: that the capital of each sphere of production has to participate, in proportion to its size, in the total surplus-value squeezed out of the workers by the total social capital — or, put another way, that each particular capital is only a piece of the total capital, and each capitalist in effect a shareholder in the whole joint enterprise, drawing his share of the total profit in proportion to the size of his stake.
The capitalist's calculations rest on this idea. For instance: a capital that turns over more slowly — either because the commodity stays longer in the production process, or because it has to be sold in distant markets — still counts in the profit it loses by this delay, and so compensates itself with a mark-up on the price. Or again: capital investments exposed to greater risk, shipping for instance, receive compensation through a mark-up on price. Once capitalist production, and insurance along with it, has developed, the risk is in fact the same for all spheres of production (see Corbet); but the more exposed ones pay the higher insurance premium, and get it back in the price of their commodities.
In practice, all of this comes down to this: whatever circumstance makes one capital investment less profitable and another more profitable — and within certain limits all investments are held equally necessary — gets entered into the books once and for all as a valid ground for compensation, without the working of competition being needed all over again to show that such a motive, or such a factor in the reckoning, is justified.
Only the capitalist forgets — or rather does not see, because competition does not show it to him — that all these grounds for compensation, which capitalists assert against one another when they reckon up commodity prices across the different branches of production, come down merely to the fact that they all, in proportion to their capital, have an equally large claim on the common booty, the total surplus-value. Instead, because the profit he pockets is different from the surplus-value he actually squeezes out, it seems to him that his grounds for compensation do not equalize his share in the total surplus-value but themselves create the profit — as if the profit simply arose from the mark-up, however it is justified, added to the cost price of the commodities.
What was said in Chapter 7 about the capitalist's ideas concerning the source of surplus-value also holds, moreover, for average profit. Here the picture differs only in this: with the market price of the commodities given, and the exploitation of labour given, the saving in cost prices depends on individual skill, attentiveness, and so on.