Consumer goods are also called finished goods. The products we buy at the supermarket and other retail stores have, in less finished form, passed through many stages (including distribution), reaching back to the original factors of production: land and labor. Land includes anything nature-given and not produced. We think of those things as natural resources, but as Julian Simon taught us, it takes human ingenuity to convert nature-given stuff, which may have no apparent value for human well-being, into a resource that makes our lives better. (See Simon’s invaluable The Ultimate Resource 2.)
We consumers want finished, not unfinished goods. Imagine you ordered a car online, and the next day, the dealer dumped a pile of metal, glass, plastic, computer chips, rubber, and so on on your front lawn. You would not be happy. “I don’t want this pile of stuff. I want a car!” What’s missing? Labor, producer goods (tools and machines), and time. That’s also what you paid for. While you paid for the end product, all you received was some of the means.
Supply and demand in competitive markets set the prices of finished products. Sellers ask prices, and consumers ask themselves, “Is Product X important enough to me to justify giving up what I’m being asked to give up in exchange?” If I spend $5 on something, I forgo the good or service on which I might have spent that $5. Saving the money for a rainy day or lending it at interest are two such services I might have chosen instead.
Since the production of useful finished goods is the object of an economic system, it should be obvious that finished goods cannot be valued according to the presumed value of the factors—land, labor, tools, and semifinished goods—that went into producing them. It’s got to be the other way around. This insight was not always apparent to economists. The classical economists, starting with Adam Smith, thought the cost of production, especially labor, determined the exchange value (price) of finished goods. One of the great achievements of Carl Menger, founder of the Austrian school, is his insight into why that is wrong.
As Menger wrote in his world-changing book, Principles of Economics (1871), “Among the most egregious of the fundamental errors that have had the most far-reaching consequences in the previous development of our science is the argument that goods attain value for us because goods were employed in their production that had value to us.” In other words, people assumed that finished goods fetched money in the marketplace because valuable land, labor, and capital went into making them. They were wrong: “this argument is … strictly opposed to all experience,” Menger wrote. He went on (pp. 149-52):
[The argument] offers an explanation only for the value of goods we may designate as “products” but not for the value of all other goods, which appear as original factors of production. It does not explain the value of goods directly provided by nature, especially the services of land. It does not explain the value of labor services. Nor does it even … explain the value of the services of capital. For the value of all these goods cannot be explained by the argument that goods derive their value from the value of the goods expended in their production. Indeed, it makes their value completely incomprehensible.
…The value of goods of lower order cannot, therefore, be determined by the value of the goods of higher order that were employed in their production. On the contrary, it is evident that the value of goods of higher order is always and without exception determined by the prospective value of the goods of lower order in whose production they serve. The existence of our requirements for goods of higher order is dependent upon the goods they serve to produce having expected economic character and hence expected value.
Higher-order goods are further from the consumer. Lower-order goods are closer. The lowest order is retail. We value means and ends. The question is: in which direction must the imputation of value run? Do we value the ends because we value the means? Or vice versa?
In securing our requirements for the satisfaction of our needs, we do not need command of goods that are suitable for the production of goods of lower order that have no expected value (since we have no requirements for them). We therefore have the principle that the value of goods of higher order is dependent upon the expected value of the goods of lower order they serve to produce. Hence goods of higher order can attain value, or retain it once they have it, only if, or as long as, they serve to produce goods that we expect to have value for us.
Who would argue with that? Imagine a machine that can produce only widgets, which consumers buy in great numbers. If one day, no one wanted widgets anymore, the machine would be worthless (except perhaps for scrap metal).
If this fact is established, it is clear also that the value of goods of higher order cannot be the determining factor in the prospective value of the corresponding goods of lower order. Nor can the value of the goods of higher order already expended in producing a good of lower order be the determining factor in its present value. On the contrary, the value of goods of higher order is, in all cases, regulated by the prospective value of the goods of lower order to whose production they have been or will be assigned by economizing men.
He wrapped up:
Only the satisfaction of our needs has direct and immediate significance to us. In each concrete instance, this significance is measured by the importance of the various satisfactions for our lives and well-being. We next attribute the exact quantitative magnitude of this importance to the specific goods on which we are conscious of being directly dependent for the satisfactions in question—that is, we attribute it to economic goods of first order…. In cases in which our requirements are not met or are only incompletely met by goods of first order, and in which goods of first order therefore attain value for us, we turn to the corresponding goods of the next higher order in our efforts to satisfy our needs as completely as possible, and attribute the value that we attributed to goods of first order in turn to goods of second, third, and still higher orders whenever these goods of higher order have economic character. The value of goods of higher order is therefore, in the final analysis, nothing but a special form of the importance we attribute to our lives and well-being. Thus, as with goods of first order, the factor that is ultimately responsible for the value of goods of higher order is merely the importance that we attribute to those satisfactions with respect to which we are aware of being dependent on the availability of the goods of higher order whose value is under consideration.
Why does this matter? It matters because the free market is an undesigned institution that serves consumers and their idea of well-being. True, a risk-taking entrepreneur may offer something consumers haven’t asked for. (Henry Ford said consumers would have asked for faster horses.) How does that turn out? Sometimes consumers are delighted and make an entrepreneur fabulously wealthy. At other times they tell him to get back to the drawing board or lose control of his assets in favor of someone more competent.
Consumers rule! Power to the consumers! Politicians: out of the way!
