The Wealth of Nations is a true classic of English literature. It was never widely loved or widely read.
When The Wealth of Nations was published in 1776, its publisher, Thomas Strahan, said, “The sales of a work that requires much thought and contemplation (not often found in modern readers) have been greater than I could have expected.” David Hume wrote to Adam Smith that although he doubted whether the work would be popular (it “needs so much attention” that the public “will give it so little”), it nevertheless “has depth, solidity, sharpness, and is amply illustrated by interesting facts, so that in the end it must attract the attention of the public.”
Even among politicians, Smith was only half-loved. What one scholar called “the rigorous, unique, and comprehensive analysis of the works published during Smith’s lifetime” (written by the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony) was a defense of the existing economic order. Although the intellectual elite knew about The Wealth of Nations by the end of the 18th century, they were unable to fully understand Smithian ideas.
Smith’s biographer John Ray reports that Charles James Fox said he had not read the book (despite citing it in the House of Commons). On another occasion, when an economist said he knew nothing about political economy before Smith, Fox replied, “Pooh, your Adam Smith is nothing.”
It was not until Pitt’s Budget of 1792 that fully fledged Smithian ideas were considered important to British politics. The 19th century was more Smithian (particularly Gladstone), but when newly elected Labor MPs were asked in 1906 to list the books that had most influenced them, only four mentioned Smith’s name. Although there have been many reprints and translations, Smith did not always have a large and devoted readership. Jonathan Rose records how working-class men read Smith in the 19th century, but he is not a major figure in The Intellectual Life of the British Working Class.
Of course, Smith had a steady audience of writers and thinkers. In his preface to The Theory of Moral Sentiments, Amartya Sen quotes Smith as telling his students that “to be an ancient is to have a commentator.” By that standard, Sen writes, “few people are older than Smith.” He is to modern times what Plato was to ancient times. But unlike the writings of the other great ancient figure of our time, Charles Darwin, whose writings sparked debates that began at once and spanned generations, Smith is one of those writers who, despite his undeniable importance, has had a quieter, more restrained reception.
And yet — he’s so easy to read. Among the great thinkers on specialized or esoteric subjects, Smith may be Britain’s greatest prose writer. As Edward Gibbon said, The Wealth of Nations is “a book that brings together a wide range of science and expresses the deepest ideas in the clearest language.” Perspicacious is a word Smith liked to use, especially in his lectures on rhetoric and belletre. He devoted himself to a plain English style with insight. In notes taken during Mr. Smith’s lectures, his students recorded:
“Natural order of expression, without parentheses or extra words, is a great aid to clarity as well.”
and:
“Our words must be arranged in such an order that the meaning of the sentence becomes very clear, and does not depend on the precision with which the printer places the dots or the precision with which the reader places emphasis on particular words.”
This is what makes Smith so enjoyable to read. His own principles – the avoidance of unnecessary words, the “natural order of presentation” and linear sentence structure – give him real clarity. You don’t have to think too hard about his writing even if you read it to the end. For anyone with a serious curiosity about the way the world works, Smith is undeniably important. And he has carefully written what the average reader would want to find in a long, difficult book.
The Wealth of Nations certainly requires a lot of attention, but unlike many other great treatises, it does not impede the reader’s understanding. Smith is careful to point out the prose to make all 1,000 pages as plain and understandable as possible. Consider these excerpts.
“It would be too foolish to seriously try to prove that wealth does not consist of money, gold or silver, but that it is something that money buys and has value only insofar as it is purchased. No doubt, money always forms part of the national capital. But it has already been shown that it is generally only a part of the national capital, and is always the most unprofitable part.” (WN IV.i.17)
“To take an example which is undoubtedly questionable, the general tendency to drunkenness among the common people is not caused by a large number of taverns; but that tendency, arising from other causes, necessarily gives employment to a large number of taverns.” (WN II.v.7)
“Man’s pride loves to be domineering, and nothing humiliates a man so much as to have to condescend to win over those who are inferior to him. Therefore, so far as the law permits, and the nature of the work permits, men will generally prefer the service of a slave to that of a freeman. The planting of sugar and tobacco can cover the cost of slave cultivation; the cultivation of corn seems impossible in modern times.” (WNIII.ii.10)
These are random excerpts from passages I happen to have marked in the copy on my desk.
Look at how Smith’s sentences are composed of everyday language and contain “the right words in the right places,” as Swift advised. Smith avoids rhetoric. He makes one point in one clause and then moves on to the next, perhaps using a subclause or conjunction, so that while he has one part of the sentence in mind, he doesn’t have to ramble on the other half to reach a conclusion. However, he uses rhetorical structures to powerfully convey his meaning. The second example regarding Alehouse is optic illusion. Alehouses do not produce the temperament of drunkenness, but the temperament of drunkenness produces alehouses.
This careful clarity does not make Smith a dull or heartless writer. He is not a technocrat. When he feels strongly, his pen burns with the fervor of his thoughts.
“England, however, has never been blessed with a very frugal government, and thrift has never been a characteristic virtue of the population; hence the pretense of the king and ministers overseeing the economy of private citizens, and the sumptuary laws and prohibitions on the importation of foreign luxuries. It is the utmost impudence and hubris that limit the experience of civilians, who themselves are always, without exception, the greatest.” Let the extravagant members of society cherish their own experience, and unless their extravagance destroys the nation, it will never destroy that of the people.
Unlike many social scientists, he writes about life in a way that keeps the pulse of emotion, explaining with a dispassionate eye: “At no time in life is a contempt for risk and an arrogant expectation of success more active than at the age when a young man chooses a career.” (WN Ixb29) In his explanation of the lottery of fortune for sailors, he writes: “The dangers of the distant future, from which we may hope to escape by courage and direction, are not unpleasant to us, and the wages of the workmen are not increased in any employment.” (WNIxb32)
And even though his writings are accounts of economic science, many of his observations are full of moral sentiment. “The most decisive feature of the prosperity of any nation is the increase in the number of its inhabitants.” (WN I.viii.23) He denounces the “cobweb science of ontology” (WN Vif29) taught in universities. He wants education to be able to “improve understanding.” [and] “To prepare one’s mind.” (WN Vif32)
Adjust for the vocabulary changes (“the most decisive mark,” “the conceit of success”) and Smith’s prose is clear enough to be published in magazines today. The Wealth of Nations is full of colloquial examples, everyday figures, and historical parallels. Let me explain the generalization with an example. He never moves on to the next point until the current point is completely clear. Phrases like “necessity and convenience” serve as a recurring motif, making it easier to follow the stages of the discussion.
In all of this prose, Smith shows himself to be a great reader not only of his favorite Jonathan Swift, but also of other great English writers such as Addison and Johnson. I recommended reading the novelist Samuel Richardson, as well as Racine and Voltaire. Smith was a truly well-rounded humanist, someone who knew life and books well enough to write not just great papers, but extremely entertaining pieces.
