”To the average bourgeois mind, socialism is merely a menace, vague and formless. The average member of the capitalist class, when he discusses socialism, is condemned an ignoramus out of his own mouth. He does not know the literature of socialism, its philosophy, nor its politics.”
Socialism was at its pinnacle in the United States when Jack London wrote this work. Eugene Debs, the Socialists Party candidate for president, won six percent of the vote in the election of 1912 (the highest percentage ever won by a Socialist). But despite this, the majority of Americans had almost no actual knowledge about it. Then, as now, it was used as a nebulous scare word meaning little more than “be afraid!”
London, a passionate socialist, attempted to use his fame to spread knowledge of socialism. The essays in this work display his skill as a storytelling wordsmith, explaining in clear, often entertaining language the divisions that amounted to a open warfare between the working classes and the capitalist class, and how each related to the government and the law.
I found three of these essays partially interesting: The Tramp, The Scab, and How I Became a Socialist. The first two of these combine insights that are still active and relevant to our present day world with picturesque details of the more physically violent class warfare common in London’s time. The third of these is London’s own story of how an epiphany he had while a tramp, riding the rails across America, converted him to the cause of socialism.
The gist of The Tramp is that, while polite society and all right-thinking people despise and ostracize those habitually out of work as indolent parasites, that the government and capitalist class actually manipulates the labor markets to make certain that there is always an underclass of unemployed persons.
”It has been shown that there are more men than there is work for men, and that the surplus labor army is an economic necessity.”
This is necessary to the capitalist, as without this buffer of unemployment, the worker would have too much leverage, and there could be no scabs to replace him when he strikes.
In The Scab London deals with one of his favorite themes — the law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest. He paints the struggle between labor and capital as all out warfare for survival. He strips the issue down from ideals and ideas to pure battle for supremacy:
”The only honest morality displayed by either side is white-hot indignation at the iniquities of the other side. The striking teamster complacently takes a scab driver into an alley, and with an iron bar breaks his arms, so that he can drive no more, but cries out to high Heaven for justice when the capitalist breaks his skull by means of a club in the hands of a policeman.”
”Without a quiver, a member of the capitalist group will run tens of thousands of pitiful child laborers through his life-destroying cotton factories, and weep maudlin and constitutional tears over one scab hit in the back with a brick.”
London grasped that, despite what propaganda existed to the contrary, that class struggle was a living reality:
”It is no longer a question of whether or not there is a class struggle. The question now is, what will be the outcome of the class struggle?”
London believed that the eventual triumph of socialism in America was inevitable. Reading this now, more than a century later, it is obvious that he was mistaken, at least within any timescale that he would have imagined. Yet this is still a valuable book on several levels. It gives a picture of London as dedicated socialist that has largely been erased from the public imagination of him. It paints a vivid picture of the violence of the clashes between capital and labor in the opening decades of the 20th century. And despite its age, it presents some valuable insights that are still pertinent today.