Capital's basic formula is: money goes out, and more money comes back — money, then a commodity, then more money. Producing that extra money is what capitalist production does; realizing it in the market is what the circulation of capital does.
The capitalist does not make a commodity for its own sake, and not because he wants to use it or consume it himself. What actually interests him is not the physical product but the excess of value the product has over the value of the capital used up making it.
He advances the whole of his capital without caring what different jobs its parts play in producing surplus-value. He lays out every part equally — not just to get his capital back, but to get more value than he put in. He can only turn the value of the variable capital he advances — the part he lays out on wages — into a bigger value by exchanging it for living labour — by exploiting that labour. But he can only exploit labour by advancing, at the same time, the conditions that let that labour happen at all: the means of labour and its object, machinery and raw material. In other words, he turns a sum of value he owns into the form of the means of production. And he is only a capitalist, only able to exploit labour in the first place, because as the owner of these conditions of labour he stands facing the worker, who owns nothing but labour-power. As was shown earlier, in Volume 1, it is exactly this — the non-workers owning the means of production — that turns workers into wage-labourers and non-workers into capitalists.
It makes no difference to the capitalist how he pictures this process. He can just as well say he advances constant capital in order to squeeze a profit out of the variable part, as say he advances the variable part in order to valorize the constant part — to make it yield more value than it cost. He can say he lays out money in wages so as to raise the value of machines and raw material, or that he advances money in machinery and raw material so that he can exploit labour.
Only the variable part of capital creates surplus-value — but it only creates it on the condition that the other parts, the conditions of production for that labour, are advanced too. Because the capitalist can only exploit labour by advancing constant capital, and can only valorize constant capital by advancing variable capital, all these parts merge together equally in his mind. This is all the more so because the actual size of his profit is fixed not by its ratio to the variable capital, but by its ratio to the total capital — not by the rate of surplus-value, but by the rate of profit, which, as we shall see, can stay the same while expressing different rates of surplus-value.
What the product costs the capitalist is every part of its value he actually paid out, or threw an equivalent into production for. Recovering that much gets him nowhere new: it only puts his capital back where it started, at the same size.
The value contained in a commodity equals the labour-time its production costs, and that labour splits into paid and unpaid. But the commodity's costs for the capitalist consist only of the part of the labour objectified in it — the labour already worked up in the product — that he has actually paid for.
The surplus labour contained in the commodity costs the capitalist nothing — even though it costs the worker labour just as much as the paid labour does, and even though it creates value just as much as the paid labour does, going into the commodity as a value-forming element exactly like the rest. The capitalist's profit comes from the fact that he has something to sell that he has not paid for.
Surplus-value, or profit, consists precisely in the excess of the commodity's value over its cost price — that is, in the excess of the total labour contained in the commodity over the paid labour contained in it. Surplus-value, wherever it springs from, is therefore an excess over the whole capital advanced. This excess stands in a ratio to the total capital, expressed in the fraction s/C, where C means the total capital. That gives us the rate of profit, s/C = s/(c+v), as distinct from the rate of surplus-value, s/v.
The rate of surplus-value measured against the variable capital is called the rate of surplus-value. The same rate of surplus-value measured against the total capital is called the rate of profit. These are two different measurements of the same amount — the same amount, measured once against the variable capital and once against the total capital — and because the yardsticks differ, they express two different ratios of that one amount at the same time.
The transformation of surplus-value into profit has to be derived from the transformation of the rate of surplus-value into the rate of profit — not the other way round. And in fact the rate of profit is the historical starting point.
Surplus-value and the rate of surplus-value are, relatively speaking, the invisible thing, the essential thing still to be worked out; the rate of profit — and so the form surplus-value takes as profit — shows itself on the surface of appearances.
For the individual capitalist, only one thing matters: the ratio between the surplus-value, the excess value he sells his commodities for, and the total capital advanced to produce them. The specific ratio of this excess to the particular parts of capital, and its inner connection with them, does not interest him at all — in fact, it suits him to keep this specific ratio and this inner connection hazy and out of view.
Although the excess of the commodity's value over its cost price arises in the immediate production process, it is only realized in the circulation process — and it looks all the more as if circulation were where the extra value came from, since in reality, within competition, on the actual market, it depends on market conditions whether, and to what degree, this excess gets realized at all. There is no need to spell out that when a commodity sells above or below its value, this only means a different distribution of the surplus-value; and this different distribution — the changed proportion in which different people share in the surplus-value — changes nothing at all, either in the magnitude or in the nature of the surplus-value.
In the actual circulation process, it is not only the transformations we examined in Volume 2 that take place; they also coincide with real competition, with the buying and selling of commodities above or below their value — so that for the individual capitalist, the surplus-value he himself realizes depends just as much on mutual cheating as on the direct exploitation of labour.
In the circulation process, alongside labour-time, circulation-time comes into play, and this limits the mass of surplus-value realizable in a given period. Other factors, arising from circulation, also reach into the immediate production process and help determine it. Both processes — immediate production and circulation — constantly run into each other, interpenetrate, and so constantly blur their distinguishing marks.
The production of surplus-value, like value generally, takes on new characteristics in the circulation process, as shown earlier; capital runs through the circuit of its transformations; finally it steps, so to speak, out of its inner organic life into external relations of life — relations in which it is no longer capital facing labour, but on one side capital facing capital, and on the other side individuals simply facing each other again as buyers and sellers. Circulation-time and labour-time cross each other, so both look equally responsible for the surplus-value. The original form in which capital and wage-labour confront each other is disguised when relations step in that look as if they had nothing to do with it. Surplus-value itself no longer appears as the product of appropriating labour-time, but as the excess of the commodities' selling price over their cost price — and this cost price then easily presents itself as their real, intrinsic value (valeur intrinsèque), so that profit appears as the excess of the selling price of commodities over their inherent value.
Certainly, during the immediate production process, the nature of surplus-value keeps entering the capitalist's consciousness — his greed for other people's labour-time already showed us as much, when we looked at surplus-value earlier. But that awareness is checked by two things.
First, the immediate production process itself is only a passing phase — always tipping over into circulation, as circulation tips back into it — so that whatever inkling, clearer or dimmer, dawns in the production process about the source of the gain made there, that is, about the nature of surplus-value, appears at best as no more than one notion among equally valid others, alongside the idea that the realized excess springs from a movement independent of the production process, arising from circulation itself, and so belonging to capital independently of its relation to labour at all. Indeed, these very circulation phenomena are cited directly by modern economists such as Ramsay, Malthus, Senior, Torrens, and others as proof that capital, in its mere thing-like existence — independent of the social relation to labour that alone makes it capital — is itself an independent source of surplus-value alongside labour and independent of it.
Second, under the heading of costs — which covers wages just as much as the price of raw material, wear and tear of machinery, and so on — the extraction of unpaid labour appears only as a saving in paying for one of the items that enters into costs, only as paying less for a given quantity of labour; exactly as a saving is also made when raw material is bought cheaper, or the wear of machinery is reduced. In this way the squeezing-out of surplus labour loses its specific character; its specific relation to surplus-value is obscured; and this is greatly helped along, as was shown in Volume 1, by presenting the value of labour-power in the form of wages.
Because all parts of capital equally come to appear as sources of the excess value — of profit — the capital relation is mystified.
The way surplus-value gets transformed into the form of profit, by passing through the rate of profit, is only the further development of a reversal of subject and object that already goes on during the production process itself. We already saw there how all the subjective productive forces of labour come to present themselves as productive forces of capital. On one side, value — past labour, dominating living labour — is personified in the capitalist; on the other side, conversely, the worker appears as mere objectified labour-power, as a commodity. Out of this inverted relation there necessarily springs, already within the simple relation of production itself, a matching upside-down idea — a way of seeing that has the relation the wrong way round — one that is then further developed through the transformations and modifications of the actual circulation process.
As can be studied in the Ricardian school, it is a thoroughly mistaken attempt to try to present the laws of the rate of profit directly as laws of the rate of surplus-value, or the other way round. In the capitalist's own head, naturally, the two are not distinguished at all. In the expression s/C, the surplus-value is measured against the value of the total capital advanced for its production — a capital of which one part is consumed outright in that production while another part is only put to work and stays in place. In fact the ratio s/C expresses the degree to which the whole advanced capital has been valorized — how much it has grown in value — that is, taken in line with the inner, conceptual connection and the nature of surplus-value, it shows how the size of the variation in the variable capital relates to the size of the total capital advanced.
In itself, the value-magnitude of the total capital stands in no inner relation to the magnitude of the surplus-value — at least not directly. By its material elements, the total capital minus the variable capital — that is, the constant capital — consists of the material conditions for carrying out labour: means of labour and material to work on. For a given quantity of labour to realize itself in commodities, and so to form value at all, a given quantity of material and means of labour is required. Depending on the particular character of the labour applied, a definite technical ratio holds between the mass of labour — the sheer amount of it — and the mass of the means of production to which that living labour is to be applied. So, to that extent, a definite ratio also holds between the mass of the surplus-value or surplus labour and the mass of the means of production.
If, for example, the necessary labour needed to produce the wage comes to 6 hours a day, the worker must work 12 hours in order to do 6 hours of surplus labour and produce a surplus-value of 100 per cent. In the 12 hours he uses up twice as many means of production as in the 6. But the surplus-value he adds in those 6 hours stands in no direct relation at all to the value of the means of production used up in the 6 hours, or even in the 12. That value makes no difference here; what matters is only the physical amount the work technically needs. Whether the raw material or the means of labour is cheap or dear makes no difference either, so long as it has the use-value required and is present in the technically prescribed proportion to the living labour it has to absorb.
If, however, I know that in one hour x pounds of cotton are spun and cost y shillings, then I of course also know that in 12 hours 12x pounds of cotton = 12y shillings are spun, and I can then work out the ratio of the surplus-value to the value of the 12 just as well as to the value of the 6. But the relation of living labour to the value of the means of production only enters here because y shillings serves as a name for x pounds of cotton — because a given quantity of cotton has a given price, and so, conversely, a given price can serve as an index for a given quantity of cotton, so long as the price of cotton does not change. If I know that, to appropriate 6 hours of surplus labour, I must have someone work 12 hours — must therefore have cotton ready for 12 hours — and I know the price of the quantity of cotton needed for those 12 hours, then a relation does exist, by a roundabout route, between the price of the cotton (as an index of the necessary quantity) and the surplus-value. But conversely, I can never infer from the price of the raw material the mass of raw material that can be spun in, say, one hour rather than six. So there is no inner, necessary relation between the value of the constant capital and the surplus-value — and therefore none between the value of the total capital (= c + v) and the surplus-value either.
When the rate of surplus-value is known and its magnitude given, the rate of profit expresses nothing but what it actually is: another way of measuring the surplus-value — measuring it against the value of the total capital, instead of against the value of the part of capital from whose exchange with labour it directly springs. But in reality — that is, in the world of appearances — the matter stands the other way round. The surplus-value is given, but given as the excess of the commodity's selling price over its cost price; and it remains a mystery where this excess comes from — from the exploitation of labour in the production process, from overreaching the buyers in circulation, or from both.
What is further given is the ratio of this excess to the value of the total capital: the rate of profit. Working out this excess of the selling price over the cost price as a ratio to the value of the total capital advanced is very important and quite natural, since it actually yields the proportion in which the total capital has been valorized — its degree of valorization. Starting from this rate of profit, then, absolutely no specific relation can be inferred between the excess and the part of the capital laid out in wages. We shall see in a later chapter what comic contortions Malthus goes through when he tries to reach, by this route, behind the secret of surplus-value and its specific relation to the variable part of capital.
What the rate of profit as such actually shows is that the excess spreads evenly over equal portions of the capital — every equal slice looks equally productive — a capital which, from this point of view, shows no inner differences at all, except the one between fixed and circulating capital. And even this difference only because the excess gets calculated twice over. First, as a simple magnitude: excess over the cost price. In this, its first form, the whole of the circulating capital enters the cost price, while of the fixed capital only the wear and tear enters it. Second: the ratio of this value-excess to the total value of the capital advanced. Here the value of the whole fixed capital enters the calculation just as much as that of the circulating capital. So the circulating capital enters in the same way both times, while the fixed capital enters one time differently and the other time in the same way as the circulating capital. That is how the distinction between circulating and fixed capital comes to stand out here as the only one that matters.
Once the excess is measured as a rate of profit, it appears as something capital generates, year by year or over some given period of circulation, above and beyond its own value. In Hegel's idiom, the excess is reflected back into itself out of the rate of profit.
So although the rate of profit is numerically different from the rate of surplus-value, while surplus-value and profit are in fact the same thing and numerically equal too, profit is nevertheless a transformed form of surplus-value — a form in which its origin and the secret of its existence are veiled and extinguished. In fact, profit is the form in which surplus-value appears, and surplus-value itself first has to be peeled out of that form by analysis.
In surplus-value, the relation between capital and labour lies exposed. In the relation between capital and profit, capital appears instead as a relation to itself — a relation in which it marks itself off, as an original sum of value, from a new value it has itself set going. Profit is the surplus-value as it appears: on one side an excess over the commodity's cost price, realized in circulation; on the other an excess sized against the total capital. That it generates this new value in the course of its movement through the production process and the circulation process is present to consciousness. But how this happens is now mystified, and seems to stem from hidden qualities belonging to capital itself.
The further we follow capital's process of valorization, the more the capital relation gets mystified, and the less the secret of its inner organism gets laid bare.
In this section, the rate of profit is numerically different from the rate of surplus-value; but profit and surplus-value are treated as the same numerical magnitude, only in a different form. In the following section we shall see how this externalization goes further still, and profit comes to present itself as numerically a different magnitude from surplus-value as well.
Capital's basic formula is: money goes out, and more money comes back — money, then a commodity, then more money. Producing that extra money is what capitalist production does; realizing it in the market is what the circulation of capital does.
The capitalist does not make a commodity for its own sake, and not because he wants to use it or consume it himself. What actually interests him is not the physical product but the excess of value the product has over the value of the capital used up making it.
He advances the whole of his capital without caring what different jobs its parts play in producing surplus-value. He lays out every part equally — not just to get his capital back, but to get more value than he put in. He can only turn the value of the variable capital he advances — the part he lays out on wages — into a bigger value by exchanging it for living labour — by exploiting that labour. But he can only exploit labour by advancing, at the same time, the conditions that let that labour happen at all: the means of labour and its object, machinery and raw material. In other words, he turns a sum of value he owns into the form of the means of production. And he is only a capitalist, only able to exploit labour in the first place, because as the owner of these conditions of labour he stands facing the worker, who owns nothing but labour-power. As was shown earlier, in Volume 1, it is exactly this — the non-workers owning the means of production — that turns workers into wage-labourers and non-workers into capitalists.
It makes no difference to the capitalist how he pictures this process. He can just as well say he advances constant capital in order to squeeze a profit out of the variable part, as say he advances the variable part in order to valorize the constant part — to make it yield more value than it cost. He can say he lays out money in wages so as to raise the value of machines and raw material, or that he advances money in machinery and raw material so that he can exploit labour.
Only the variable part of capital creates surplus-value — but it only creates it on the condition that the other parts, the conditions of production for that labour, are advanced too. Because the capitalist can only exploit labour by advancing constant capital, and can only valorize constant capital by advancing variable capital, all these parts merge together equally in his mind. This is all the more so because the actual size of his profit is fixed not by its ratio to the variable capital, but by its ratio to the total capital — not by the rate of surplus-value, but by the rate of profit, which, as we shall see, can stay the same while expressing different rates of surplus-value.
What the product costs the capitalist is every part of its value he actually paid out, or threw an equivalent into production for. Recovering that much gets him nowhere new: it only puts his capital back where it started, at the same size.
The value contained in a commodity equals the labour-time its production costs, and that labour splits into paid and unpaid. But the commodity's costs for the capitalist consist only of the part of the labour objectified in it — the labour already worked up in the product — that he has actually paid for.
The surplus labour contained in the commodity costs the capitalist nothing — even though it costs the worker labour just as much as the paid labour does, and even though it creates value just as much as the paid labour does, going into the commodity as a value-forming element exactly like the rest. The capitalist's profit comes from the fact that he has something to sell that he has not paid for.
Surplus-value, or profit, consists precisely in the excess of the commodity's value over its cost price — that is, in the excess of the total labour contained in the commodity over the paid labour contained in it. Surplus-value, wherever it springs from, is therefore an excess over the whole capital advanced. This excess stands in a ratio to the total capital, expressed in the fraction s/C, where C means the total capital. That gives us the rate of profit, s/C = s/(c+v), as distinct from the rate of surplus-value, s/v.
The rate of surplus-value measured against the variable capital is called the rate of surplus-value. The same rate of surplus-value measured against the total capital is called the rate of profit. These are two different measurements of the same amount — the same amount, measured once against the variable capital and once against the total capital — and because the yardsticks differ, they express two different ratios of that one amount at the same time.
The transformation of surplus-value into profit has to be derived from the transformation of the rate of surplus-value into the rate of profit — not the other way round. And in fact the rate of profit is the historical starting point.
Surplus-value and the rate of surplus-value are, relatively speaking, the invisible thing, the essential thing still to be worked out; the rate of profit — and so the form surplus-value takes as profit — shows itself on the surface of appearances.
For the individual capitalist, only one thing matters: the ratio between the surplus-value, the excess value he sells his commodities for, and the total capital advanced to produce them. The specific ratio of this excess to the particular parts of capital, and its inner connection with them, does not interest him at all — in fact, it suits him to keep this specific ratio and this inner connection hazy and out of view.
Although the excess of the commodity's value over its cost price arises in the immediate production process, it is only realized in the circulation process — and it looks all the more as if circulation were where the extra value came from, since in reality, within competition, on the actual market, it depends on market conditions whether, and to what degree, this excess gets realized at all. There is no need to spell out that when a commodity sells above or below its value, this only means a different distribution of the surplus-value; and this different distribution — the changed proportion in which different people share in the surplus-value — changes nothing at all, either in the magnitude or in the nature of the surplus-value.
In the actual circulation process, it is not only the transformations we examined in Volume 2 that take place; they also coincide with real competition, with the buying and selling of commodities above or below their value — so that for the individual capitalist, the surplus-value he himself realizes depends just as much on mutual cheating as on the direct exploitation of labour.
In the circulation process, alongside labour-time, circulation-time comes into play, and this limits the mass of surplus-value realizable in a given period. Other factors, arising from circulation, also reach into the immediate production process and help determine it. Both processes — immediate production and circulation — constantly run into each other, interpenetrate, and so constantly blur their distinguishing marks.
The production of surplus-value, like value generally, takes on new characteristics in the circulation process, as shown earlier; capital runs through the circuit of its transformations; finally it steps, so to speak, out of its inner organic life into external relations of life — relations in which it is no longer capital facing labour, but on one side capital facing capital, and on the other side individuals simply facing each other again as buyers and sellers. Circulation-time and labour-time cross each other, so both look equally responsible for the surplus-value. The original form in which capital and wage-labour confront each other is disguised when relations step in that look as if they had nothing to do with it. Surplus-value itself no longer appears as the product of appropriating labour-time, but as the excess of the commodities' selling price over their cost price — and this cost price then easily presents itself as their real, intrinsic value (valeur intrinsèque), so that profit appears as the excess of the selling price of commodities over their inherent value.
Certainly, during the immediate production process, the nature of surplus-value keeps entering the capitalist's consciousness — his greed for other people's labour-time already showed us as much, when we looked at surplus-value earlier. But that awareness is checked by two things.
First, the immediate production process itself is only a passing phase — always tipping over into circulation, as circulation tips back into it — so that whatever inkling, clearer or dimmer, dawns in the production process about the source of the gain made there, that is, about the nature of surplus-value, appears at best as no more than one notion among equally valid others, alongside the idea that the realized excess springs from a movement independent of the production process, arising from circulation itself, and so belonging to capital independently of its relation to labour at all. Indeed, these very circulation phenomena are cited directly by modern economists such as Ramsay, Malthus, Senior, Torrens, and others as proof that capital, in its mere thing-like existence — independent of the social relation to labour that alone makes it capital — is itself an independent source of surplus-value alongside labour and independent of it.
Second, under the heading of costs — which covers wages just as much as the price of raw material, wear and tear of machinery, and so on — the extraction of unpaid labour appears only as a saving in paying for one of the items that enters into costs, only as paying less for a given quantity of labour; exactly as a saving is also made when raw material is bought cheaper, or the wear of machinery is reduced. In this way the squeezing-out of surplus labour loses its specific character; its specific relation to surplus-value is obscured; and this is greatly helped along, as was shown in Volume 1, by presenting the value of labour-power in the form of wages.
Because all parts of capital equally come to appear as sources of the excess value — of profit — the capital relation is mystified.
The way surplus-value gets transformed into the form of profit, by passing through the rate of profit, is only the further development of a reversal of subject and object that already goes on during the production process itself. We already saw there how all the subjective productive forces of labour come to present themselves as productive forces of capital. On one side, value — past labour, dominating living labour — is personified in the capitalist; on the other side, conversely, the worker appears as mere objectified labour-power, as a commodity. Out of this inverted relation there necessarily springs, already within the simple relation of production itself, a matching upside-down idea — a way of seeing that has the relation the wrong way round — one that is then further developed through the transformations and modifications of the actual circulation process.
As can be studied in the Ricardian school, it is a thoroughly mistaken attempt to try to present the laws of the rate of profit directly as laws of the rate of surplus-value, or the other way round. In the capitalist's own head, naturally, the two are not distinguished at all. In the expression s/C, the surplus-value is measured against the value of the total capital advanced for its production — a capital of which one part is consumed outright in that production while another part is only put to work and stays in place. In fact the ratio s/C expresses the degree to which the whole advanced capital has been valorized — how much it has grown in value — that is, taken in line with the inner, conceptual connection and the nature of surplus-value, it shows how the size of the variation in the variable capital relates to the size of the total capital advanced.
In itself, the value-magnitude of the total capital stands in no inner relation to the magnitude of the surplus-value — at least not directly. By its material elements, the total capital minus the variable capital — that is, the constant capital — consists of the material conditions for carrying out labour: means of labour and material to work on. For a given quantity of labour to realize itself in commodities, and so to form value at all, a given quantity of material and means of labour is required. Depending on the particular character of the labour applied, a definite technical ratio holds between the mass of labour — the sheer amount of it — and the mass of the means of production to which that living labour is to be applied. So, to that extent, a definite ratio also holds between the mass of the surplus-value or surplus labour and the mass of the means of production.
If, for example, the necessary labour needed to produce the wage comes to 6 hours a day, the worker must work 12 hours in order to do 6 hours of surplus labour and produce a surplus-value of 100 per cent. In the 12 hours he uses up twice as many means of production as in the 6. But the surplus-value he adds in those 6 hours stands in no direct relation at all to the value of the means of production used up in the 6 hours, or even in the 12. That value makes no difference here; what matters is only the physical amount the work technically needs. Whether the raw material or the means of labour is cheap or dear makes no difference either, so long as it has the use-value required and is present in the technically prescribed proportion to the living labour it has to absorb.
If, however, I know that in one hour x pounds of cotton are spun and cost y shillings, then I of course also know that in 12 hours 12x pounds of cotton = 12y shillings are spun, and I can then work out the ratio of the surplus-value to the value of the 12 just as well as to the value of the 6. But the relation of living labour to the value of the means of production only enters here because y shillings serves as a name for x pounds of cotton — because a given quantity of cotton has a given price, and so, conversely, a given price can serve as an index for a given quantity of cotton, so long as the price of cotton does not change. If I know that, to appropriate 6 hours of surplus labour, I must have someone work 12 hours — must therefore have cotton ready for 12 hours — and I know the price of the quantity of cotton needed for those 12 hours, then a relation does exist, by a roundabout route, between the price of the cotton (as an index of the necessary quantity) and the surplus-value. But conversely, I can never infer from the price of the raw material the mass of raw material that can be spun in, say, one hour rather than six. So there is no inner, necessary relation between the value of the constant capital and the surplus-value — and therefore none between the value of the total capital (= c + v) and the surplus-value either.
When the rate of surplus-value is known and its magnitude given, the rate of profit expresses nothing but what it actually is: another way of measuring the surplus-value — measuring it against the value of the total capital, instead of against the value of the part of capital from whose exchange with labour it directly springs. But in reality — that is, in the world of appearances — the matter stands the other way round. The surplus-value is given, but given as the excess of the commodity's selling price over its cost price; and it remains a mystery where this excess comes from — from the exploitation of labour in the production process, from overreaching the buyers in circulation, or from both.
What is further given is the ratio of this excess to the value of the total capital: the rate of profit. Working out this excess of the selling price over the cost price as a ratio to the value of the total capital advanced is very important and quite natural, since it actually yields the proportion in which the total capital has been valorized — its degree of valorization. Starting from this rate of profit, then, absolutely no specific relation can be inferred between the excess and the part of the capital laid out in wages. We shall see in a later chapter what comic contortions Malthus goes through when he tries to reach, by this route, behind the secret of surplus-value and its specific relation to the variable part of capital.
What the rate of profit as such actually shows is that the excess spreads evenly over equal portions of the capital — every equal slice looks equally productive — a capital which, from this point of view, shows no inner differences at all, except the one between fixed and circulating capital. And even this difference only because the excess gets calculated twice over. First, as a simple magnitude: excess over the cost price. In this, its first form, the whole of the circulating capital enters the cost price, while of the fixed capital only the wear and tear enters it. Second: the ratio of this value-excess to the total value of the capital advanced. Here the value of the whole fixed capital enters the calculation just as much as that of the circulating capital. So the circulating capital enters in the same way both times, while the fixed capital enters one time differently and the other time in the same way as the circulating capital. That is how the distinction between circulating and fixed capital comes to stand out here as the only one that matters.
Once the excess is measured as a rate of profit, it appears as something capital generates, year by year or over some given period of circulation, above and beyond its own value. In Hegel's idiom, the excess is reflected back into itself out of the rate of profit.
So although the rate of profit is numerically different from the rate of surplus-value, while surplus-value and profit are in fact the same thing and numerically equal too, profit is nevertheless a transformed form of surplus-value — a form in which its origin and the secret of its existence are veiled and extinguished. In fact, profit is the form in which surplus-value appears, and surplus-value itself first has to be peeled out of that form by analysis.
In surplus-value, the relation between capital and labour lies exposed. In the relation between capital and profit, capital appears instead as a relation to itself — a relation in which it marks itself off, as an original sum of value, from a new value it has itself set going. Profit is the surplus-value as it appears: on one side an excess over the commodity's cost price, realized in circulation; on the other an excess sized against the total capital. That it generates this new value in the course of its movement through the production process and the circulation process is present to consciousness. But how this happens is now mystified, and seems to stem from hidden qualities belonging to capital itself.
The further we follow capital's process of valorization, the more the capital relation gets mystified, and the less the secret of its inner organism gets laid bare.
In this section, the rate of profit is numerically different from the rate of surplus-value; but profit and surplus-value are treated as the same numerical magnitude, only in a different form. In the following section we shall see how this externalization goes further still, and profit comes to present itself as numerically a different magnitude from surplus-value as well.