From nationality, Paine shifted
in paragraphs fifteen through eighteen of section three of Common Sense to a discussion of some of the economic benefits to be
derived from independence. Taking account of the resources at the disposal of
colonies, and their geographic location relative to the great empires of the 18th-century
world, it was his opinion that commerce was the surest means by which America
might secure to itself, “the peace and friendship of all of Europe.” Considering
the number of European powers, including Britain, that possessed territory in
the Americas and the potential market that the colonies’ population of 2.5
million represented, this would seem a reasonable claim. “It is the interest of
all Europe to have America a free port,” Paine accordingly asserted in
paragraph sixteen. “Her trade will always be a protection, and her barrenness
of gold and silver secure her from invaders.” Unlike Mexico or Peru, he seemed
to suggest, whose wealth was principally mineral in nature, the greatest
resource the American colonies had to offer were their buying power; conflict
would inevitably disrupt theoretically plentiful commerce, and peace and
friendship secure it. Of course, Paine admonished, none of this would make any
difference so long as the colonies remained lashed to Britain and its restrictive
trade policies.
As was common among European
empires in the 18th-century, Britain engaged in an economic practice
known as mercantilism. The crux of this theory was essentially that there was a
finite amount of resources of various types existing in the world. Because they
were finite it was thus to the advantage of every state to attempt to secure as
much of them as possible, prioritizing things like gold and silver (which were
held to have inherent value), and restricting imports as much as possible. As a
result of this conception of the limited nature of wealth, armed conflicts
during the mercantilist era were frequently the result of competition for
resources or valuable markets. Within this scheme, colonies were essentially
human-powered machines that extracted resources and consumed manufactured
goods. Per the dictates of mercantilism, colonies like Virginia, New York, New
Spain or Brazil were prohibited from trading with either nations other than
their nominal colonial overlords or the colonies of those nations. While
citizens of these colonies frequently engaged in smuggling as a means of
circumventing restrictive mercantilist trade policies, the majority of colonial
citizens were forced to pay a premium on manufactured goods and sell their own
natural resources at relatively static rates because they were chained by law
to only a single market.
The Thirteen Colonies were no
different, and Paine defied, in paragraph seventeen, “the warmest advocate for
reconciliation, to shew (sic), a single advantage that this continent can reap,
by being connected with Great Britain.” Mercantilism, Paine was correct to
point out, was devised in order to move wealth chiefly in one direction, toward
the seat of empire. Though advocates of the imperial economic system in Britain
would, and did, argue that by carefully regulating imports the overall health
of the empire could be guaranteed and a high standard of living ensured, the
fact remained that the value of the colonies lay in their productive and
consumptive capacities. They and their citizens did not enjoy an equal role in
the British economy, but were subordinates to it. However long this had been
going on, however “customary” it was, Paine argued that it was fundamentally
unnecessary. “Our corn,” he wrote in paragraph seventeen, speaking on behalf of
the colonies, “will fetch its price in any market in Europe, and our imported goods
must be paid for buy them where we will.” Herein, Paine seemed to be attempting
to get across two basic points, one abstract and one specific.
In the abstract, Paine was
attempting to appeal to the basic economic understanding of his readers, many
of whom were engaged in commerce in some fashion or another. Whether as
shopkeepers, shipbuilders, farmers, artisans, workers, fishermen or miners, the
majority of Americans in the late-18th century worked in fields that
had to do either with the extraction or production of raw materials or
contributed to their sale or transportation. This was for the most part a consequence
of the basic material circumstances of Britain and colonial North America;
England and Scotland possessed comparatively advanced manufacturing industries
and limited natural resources (with the exception of coal), and the colonies
possessed abundant natural resources but limited manufacturing. Americans’ understanding
of the nature of the relationship between Britain and the Thirteen Colonies
thus could not help but be closely tied to their individual livelihoods;
Britain was the only nation said colonies were permitted to trade with, bought
what they produced and sold what they needed. Having access to new markets in
which to sell their raw materials, be they mineral, animal or vegetable, more
partners with which to trade, and a greater variety of manufactured goods at
competitive prices would thus have directly affected how a great many Americans
lived their lives. Paine
understood this well, having started in life manufacturing ropes used in
shipbuilding, and doubtless sought to employ simple economics as a lever with
which to pry his readers away from their accustomed attachment to Britain.
He was aided in this endeavour by
the more specific point that Americans from across the Thirteen Colonies had
already suffered at the hands of Parliament’s attempts to “regulate imperial
trade.” The Navigation Acts (1651, 1660, 1663, 1673, and 1696) were intended to
correct contemporary trade imbalances by effectively closing off British ports
to foreign merchants and preventing overseas colonies from trading with anyone
other than Britain itself. While British shipping, shipbuilding and the Royal
Navy benefited greatly from the protection these acts offered, colonial
Americans grew to resent the restrictions on their ability to freely sell their
produce or purchase finished goods. Further acts of Parliament in the 1760s and
1770s, including the Stamp Act (1765), Townsend Acts (1767) and the Tea Act
(1773) attempted to implement further “regulation” by levying taxes on
manufactured goods like lead and glass, almost any form of stamped paper (court
documents, contracts, playing cards, etc…) and luxury goods like East India
Company tea. Because colonists were forbidden by law from seeking other sources
for any of these goods, and would be severely fined in the event of a
violation, they had little choice but to either pay the associated duties (thus
validating the disputed right of Parliament to tax the colonies) or go without.
Though Paine had not arrived in Pennsylvania until November, 1774, at which
point the Stamp Act and Townsend Acts had been repealed, he knew well enough
that the memory of Britain’s heavy-handed economic policies was still very
fresh in the minds of his fellow colonists. Calling them to mind in Common Sense, he offered his readers the
potential solution of independence; absent Parliamentary interference Americans
could buy and sell as they pleased at whatever prices the market offered.
Devoid of philosophy or talk of “natural rights” and “natural law,” this
straightforward economic calculus doubtless appealed to the everyday
experiences of the majority of late-18th century colonial Americans.
Few of them could have been relied on to possess knowledge of, for instance, Lockean
social contract theory, but they understood when their economic choices were
being limited and the loss of opportunity that was the inevitable result.
Continuing his
seemingly-exhaustive inventory of the various faults inherent in the
relationship between Britain and the Thirteen Colonies, Paine next turned to
certain matters of administration and geography. In the twenty-eighth paragraph
of the third section of Common Sense, Paine
advanced the very simple argument that the physical distance between the seat
of the British Empire in London and the colonies themselves made the
straightforward, timely, and efficient management of colonial affairs virtually
impossible. As I pointed out many moons ago, the fact of this distance resulted
in the various colonial governments developing a great deal of autonomy in
matters of day to day administration, taxes, and legislation, the violation of
which by Britain helped set in motion the events of the Revolution. Even
accepting this autonomy, however, and the theoretical deemphasizing of rapid
back-and-forth communication, the colonies themselves had by the 1770s become
too complex, and Britain too eager to micromanage, for the status quo to
continue for long without significant friction, modification, or its eventual
termination. As Paine put it, “To be always running three or four thousand
miles with a tale or a petition, waiting four or five months for an answer,
which when obtained requires five or six more to explain it in, will in a few
years be looked upon as folly and childishness.” This represented, once again,
an acknowledgement on Paine’s part of the reality of life in the colonies, and
the burdens shouldered by countless Americans as a result of their distance
from the seat of ultimate decision-making power. As if this natural delay
wasn't bad enough, George III had by the 1770s adopted the practice of refusing
royal assent (necessary for bills to become law) to legislation originating in
the colonies. The lengthy interval created by the Atlantic transit aided him
and his ministers in this scheme by further ensuring that certain measures
approved by the colonial governments were indefinitely postponed. In this way
much-needed laws, appropriations or regulations were prevented from taking
effect via purposeful obstruction and the colonial governments were left in
legislative limbo. To Paine this was both unacceptable and unnecessary;
independence was the obvious solution.
So too would separation from Britain remedy the somewhat more elementary imbalance that
Paine pointed out in paragraph twenty-nine. Britain, he pointed out, was a
small island located in north-western Europe, while the Thirteen Colonies stretched
along the east coast of North America, a vast continent over five thousand kilometres away. Putting aside the aforementioned administrative issues arising
from this physical distance, Paine reckoned that the power relationship between
the two regions seemed to flow in the wrong direction. “Small islands not
capable of protecting themselves,” he wrote, “are the proper objects for
kingdoms to take under their care; but there is something very absurd, in
supposing a continent to be perpetually governed by an island.” This would
appear to be an overly simplistic argument, and one which I don’t suppose would
hold up to scrutiny if put forward today, but Paine’s intended audience was not
one defined by its nuanced thinking. To, I repeat yet again for lack of a
better descriptor, the statistically average American in the 1770s this sort of
self-evident reasoning doubtless had a strong appeal. Paine’s reasoning ignored
the generally accepted status quo for the relationship between colonies and
colonisers (established and upheld by Britain, Spain, France, the Netherlands,
Portugal, etc…), finding its basis instead in the natural world. “In no
instance,” he reasoned, “hath nature made the satellite larger than its primary
planet.” The power relationship between Britain and the colonies may have had a
strong historical basis and may have been entirely in keeping with contemporary
trends among European empires, but as Paine asserted it was still unnatural. A
shopkeeper from Massachusetts or a farmer from Pennsylvania may not have possessed
the dense historical and political background necessary to fully grasp how and
why the colonies and the Crown related to each other the way they did, but
they, and their innumerable compatriots, no doubt all nurtured a basic understanding
of what looked or felt right or wrong.
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