The Power of Money
By KARL MARX
Written: Between April and August 1844; First Published: 1932
Source: Marx. Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844
Publisher: Progress Publishers, Moscow 1959
If man’s feelings, passions, etc., are not merely anthropological phenomena in the (narrower) sense, but truly
ontological affirmation of being (of nature), and if they are only really affirmed because their object exists for
them as a
sensual object, then it is clear that:

1. They have by no means merely one mode of affirmation, but rather that the distinct character of their
existence, of their life, is constituted by the distinct mode of their affirmation. In what manner the object exists
for them, is the characteristic mode of their
gratification.

2. Wherever the sensuous affirmation is the direct annulment of the object in its independent form (as in
eating, drinking, working up of the object, etc.), this is the affirmation of the object.

3. Insofar as man, and hence also his feeling, etc., is
human, the affirmation of the object by another is
likewise his own gratification.

4. Only through developed industry — i.e., through the medium of private property — does the ontological
essence of human passion come into being, in its totality as well as in its humanity; the science of man is
therefore itself a product of man’s own practical activity.

5. The meaning of private property — apart from its estrangement — is the
existence of essential objects for
man, both as objects of enjoyment and as objects of activity.

By possessing the
property of buying everything, by possessing the property of appropriating all objects,
money is thus the object of eminent possession. The universality of its property is the omnipotence of its
being. It is therefore regarded as omnipotent. . . . Money is the
procurer between man’s need and the object,
between his life and his means of life. But
that which mediates my life for me, also mediates the existence of
other people for me. For me it is the
other person.

 "What, man! confound it, hands and feet
 And head and backside, all are yours!
 And what we take while life is sweet,
 Is that to be declared not ours?

         Six stallions, say, I can afford,
         Is not their strength my property?
         I tear along, a sporting lord,
         As if their legs belonged to me."

 — Goethe: Faust (Mephistopheles)

Shakespeare in
Timon of Athens:

 "Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold?
 No, Gods, I am no idle votarist! ...
 Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,
 Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.
 ... Why, this
 Will lug your priests and servants from your sides,
 Pluck stout men’s pillows from below their heads:
 This yellow slave
 Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed;
 Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves
 And give them title, knee and approbation
 With senators on the bench: This is it
 That makes the wappen’d widow wed again;
 She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
 Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
 To the April day again. Come, damned earth,
 Thou common whore of mankind, that put’st odds
 Among the rout of nations."

And also later:

 "O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce
 ‘Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
 Of Hymen’s purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
 Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer,
 Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
 That lies on Dian’s lap! Thou
visible God!
 That solder’st
close impossibilities,
 And makest them kiss! That speak’st with every tongue,
 To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
 Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
 Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
 May have the world in empire!"

Shakespeare excellently depicts the real nature of
money. To understand him, let us begin, first of all, by
expounding the passage from Goethe.

That which is for me through the medium of
money — that for which I can pay (i.e., which money can buy) —
that am
I myself, the possessor of the money. The extent of the power of money is the extent of my power.
Money’s properties are my — the possessor’s — properties and essential powers. Thus, what I
am and am
capable
of is by no means determined by my individuality. I am ugly, but I can buy for myself the most beautiful
of women. Therefore I am not ugly, for the effect of
ugliness — its deterrent power — is nullified by money. I,
according to my individual characteristics, am
lame, but money furnishes me with twenty-four feet. Therefore I
am not lame. I am bad, dishonest, unscrupulous, stupid; but money is honoured, and hence its possessor.
Money is the supreme good, therefore its possessor is good. Money, besides, saves me the trouble of being
dishonest: I am therefore presumed honest. I am
brainless, but money is the real brain of all things and how
then should its possessor be brainless? Besides, he can buy clever people for himself, and is he who has a
power over the clever not more clever than the clever? Do not I, who thanks to money am capable of
all that
the human heart longs for, possess all human capacities? Does not my money, therefore, transform all my
incapacities into their contrary?

If
money is the bond binding me to human life, binding society to me, connecting me with nature and man, is
not money the bond of all
bonds? Can it not dissolve and bind all ties? Is it not, therefore, also the universal
agent of separation? It is the coin that really separates as well as the real binding agent — the [. . .] chemical
power of society.

Shakespeare stresses especially two properties of money:

1. It is the visible divinity — the transformation of all human and natural properties into their contraries, the
universal confounding and distorting of things: impossibilities are soldered together by it.

2. It is the common whore, the common procurer of people and nations.

The distorting and confounding of all human and natural qualities, the fraternisation of impossibilities — the
divine power of money — lies in its character as men’s estranged, alienating and self-disposing species-
nature
. Money is the alienated ability of mankind.

That which I am unable to do as a man, and of which therefore all my individual essential powers are
incapable, I am able to do by means of
money. Money thus turns each of these powers into something which
in itself it is not — turns it, that is, into its
contrary.

If I long for a particular dish or want to take the mail-coach because I am not strong enough to go by foot,
money fetches me the dish and the mail-coach: that is, it converts my wishes from something in the realm of
imagination, translates them from their meditated, imagined or desired existence into their
sensuous, actual
existence — from imagination to life, from imagined being into real being. In effecting this mediation, [money]
is the
truly creative power.

No doubt the
demand also exists for him who has no money, but his demand is a mere thing of the
imagination without effect or existence for me, for a third party, for the [others], and which therefore remains
even for me
unreal and objectless. The difference between effective demand based on money and ineffective
demand based on my need, my passion, my wish, etc., is the difference between
being and thinking, between
the idea which merely
exists within me and the idea which exists as a real object outside of me.

If I have no money for travel, I have no need — that is, no real and realisable
need — to travel. If I have the
vocation for study but no money for it, I have no vocation for study — that is, no effective, no true vocation. On
the other hand, if I have really
no vocation for study but have the will and the money for it, I have an effective
vocation for it.
Money as the external, universal medium and faculty (not springing from man as man or from
human society as society) for turning an
image into reality and reality into a mere image, transforms the real
essential powers of man and nature
into what are merely abstract notions and therefore imperfections and
tormenting chimeras, just as it transforms
real imperfections and chimeras — essential powers which are
really impotent, which exist only in the imagination of the individual — into
real essential powers and faculties.
In the light of this characteristic alone, money is thus the general distorting of
individualities which turns them
into their opposite and confers contradictory attributes upon their attributes.

Money, then, appears as this
distorting power both against the individual and against the bonds of society,
etc., which claim to be
entities in themselves. It transforms fidelity into infidelity, love into hate, hate into love,
virtue into vice, vice into virtue, servant into master, master into servant, idiocy into intelligence, and
intelligence into idiocy.

Since money, as the existing and active concept of value, confounds and confuses all things, it is the general
confounding and confusing of all things — the world upside-down — the confounding and confusing of all
natural and human qualities.

He who can buy bravery is brave, though he be a coward. As money is not exchanged for any one specific
quality, for any one specific thing, or for any particular human essential power, but for the entire objective world
of man and nature, from the standpoint of its possessor it therefore serves to exchange every quality for every
other, even contradictory, quality and object: it is the fraternisation of impossibilities. It makes contradictions
embrace.

Assume
man to be man and his relationship to the world to be a human one: then you can exchange love only
for love, trust for trust, etc. If you want to enjoy art, you must be an artistically cultivated person; if you want to
exercise influence over other people, you must be a person with a stimulating and encouraging effect on other
people. Every one of your relations to man and to nature must be a
specific expression, corresponding to the
object of your will, of your
real individual life. If you love without evoking love in return — that is, if your loving as
loving does not produce reciprocal love; if through a
living expression of yourself as a loving person you do
not make yourself a
beloved one, then your love is impotent — a misfortune.