began, only to be anticipated.
"Of course you do not see," said Merlyn. "You were going to say that animals have no politics. Take my advice, and think it over." "Have they?"
"Of course they have, and very efficient ones they are. Some of them are communists or fascists, like many of the ants: some are anarchists, like the geese. There are socialists like some of the bees, and, indeed, among the three thousand families of the ant itself, there are other shades of ideology besides fascism. Not all are slave-makers or warfarers. There are bank-balance-holders like the squirrel, or the bear who hibernates on his fat. Any nest or burrow or feeding ground is a form of individual property, and how do you think the crows, rabbits, minnows, and all the other gregarious creatures contrive to live together, if they have not faced the questions of Democracy and of Force?"
It was evidently a well-worn topic, for the badger interrupted before the king could reply.
"You have never given us," he said, "and you never will give us, an example of capitalism in the natural world."
Merlyn looked unhappy. "And," he added, "if you cannot give an example, it only shews that capitalism is unnatural."
The badger, it may be mentioned, was inclined to be Russian in his outlook. He and the other animals had argued with the magician so much during the past few centuries that they had all come to express themselves in highly magic terms, talking of bolshevists and nazis with as much ease as if they had been little more than the Lollards and Thrashers of contemporary history.
Merlyn, who was a staunch conservative— which was rather progressive of him, when you reflect that he was living backwards—defended himself'feebly.
"Parasitism," he said, "is an ancient and respectable compartment in nature, from the cuckoo to the flea."
"We are not talking about parasitism. We are talking about capitalism, which has been exactly defined. Can you give me a single example, other than man, of a species whose individuals will exploit the labour value of individuals of the same species? Even fleas do not exploit fleas."
Merlyn said: "There are certain apes which, when kept in captivity, have to be closely watched by their keepers. Otherwise the dominant individuals will deprive their comrades of food, even compelling them to regurgitate it, and the comrades will starve."
"It seems a shaky example." Merlyn folded his hands and looked more unhappy than ever. At last he screwed his courage to the sticking point, took a deep breath, and faced the truth.
"It is a shaky example," he said. "I find it impossible to mention an example of true capitalism in nature."
He had no sooner said it than his hands unfolded themselves like lightning, and the fist of one flashed into the palm of the other.
"I have it!" he cried. "I knew I was right about capitalism. We are looking at it the wrong way round."
"We generally are."
"The main specialisation of a species is nearly always unnatural to other species. Just because there are no examples of capital in nature, it does not mean that capital is unnatural for man, in the sense of its being wrong. You might as well say that it is wrong for a giraffe to eat the tops of trees, because there are no other antelopes with necks as long as his, or that it was wrong for the first amphibian to crawl out of the water, because there were no other examples of amphibians at the time. Capitalism is man's speciality, just as his cerebrum is. There are no other examples in nature of a creature with a cerebrum like that of man. This does not mean that it is unnatural for man to have a cerebrum. On the contrary, it means that he must go ahead with it. And the same with his capitalism. It is, like his brain, a speciality, a jewel in the crown! Now I come to think of it, capitalism may be actually consequent upon the possession of a developed cerebrum. Otherwise, who should our only other example of capitalism—those apes I mentioned—occur
Dorothy Calimeris, Sondi Bruner