All we need to do is work for the common good.
In the future, please read the entire thread before you post on it. I covered that point eight years ago.
Our species is programmed to only care for and depend on members of our extended family (or "pack") whom we've known intimately since birth. We have no instinct to feel responsible for anyone outside that group, and in fact we have just the opposite instinct: to regard them as competitors for scarce resources and fight with them. We developed agriculture twelve thousand years ago so we now have a food surplus, but it's been a struggle to overcome our pack-social instinct. Twelve thousand years is not long enough for new instincts to evolve by random mutation and natural selection.
Today we can live in communities of ten or twenty thousand and feel kinship with them, but it's very difficult to "work for the common good" of people on the other side of the planet who are nothing more to us than abstractions.
This is why socialism works in countries like Bulgaria and Sweden, with a tiny homogeneous population who regard each other as brothers. And this is why it doesn't work in countries like the USA or the USSR, with a gigantic heterogeneous population who regard each other with suspicion and disdain.
I can imagine a money-free world:communism. One man exchanges his skills for house-fixing with a plumber...
I've responded to this hypothesis several times on this forum. The barter system worked in Stone Age villages. Everybody knew everybody and everybody was busy producing the necessities of life.
But as soon as our villages grew into cities and the Stone Age gave way to the Bronze Age, barter no longer worked. People had to trade with people they didn't know and couldn't trust. Even worse, because a Bronze Age economy produces many more types of goods and services, they weren't trading directly with each other and they weren't trading goods and services
at the same time.
- I need a new wagon.
- The wainwright needs a new roof on his house, but not until winter.
- The roofer needs new boots for his whole family.
- The bootmaker needs a supply of hides, which won't be available until fall.
- The trapper would like a year's supply of wine for his mountain cabin, which can't be made until spring.
- The winemaker wants my band to play at his daughter's birthday party, which will be next summer.
- None of us know each other personally.
Multiply this by the number of wagons, roofs, boots, hides, casks of wine and birthday parties that the population of a city needs, and bear in mind that a city has dozens of wainwrights, roofers, bootmakers, trappers, winemakers and musicians. How can anybody, no matter how honest they try to be, be sure that all of these exchanges are done fairly?
Then remember that a prosperous economy requires the maintenance of an inventory. In reality the bootmaker isn't going to order the hides for those boots, he bought them last year and they're in his storeroom. The wainwright has a couple of brand new wagons sitting in his lot; all he has to do is paint them and choose the right kind of wheels for the customer's usage. Some of these products come from other cities, and they're currently in the back of a wagon being pulled by a mule, and it might take them a few weeks to arrive in our city. You have an
inventory of goods in storage or transit, so when someone needs them they'll be available.
You end up having to keep very detailed records of all these transactions. Eventually somebody figures out that one particular kind of commodity, say a barrel of olive oil, makes a handy surrogate for the value of all goods and services. So I give the wainwright a few barrels of olive oil for the wagon, he hangs onto them and gives them to the roofer next winter, etc., etc. Eventually people get really tired of schlepping barrels, and besides they'd rather use that olive oil instead of leaving it in the barrels while goes rancid.
So the city fathers, who keep a huge barn full of olive oil, make little clay chips with pictures of barrels of olive oil on them. When you do a service for them they give you chips for the number of barrels your work was worth. You know they've got the oil and you can trade the chips for oil anytime you want, but it's easier to just carry the chips around. I give a couple to the wainwright, he gives some to the roofer, etc., and next summer the winemaker gives me some for playing at his party. They're probably not the same chips, but I can still go back to city hall and turn them in to collect my olive oil.
Soon we come up with shorthand ways of representing barrels of olive oil. In many cultures it was a hash mark system: 1111 equals four, and then you slash the whole batch to make five. Eventually they want to put more information on the chips so they come up with other symbols for oil, sheep, sheaves of wheat, etc. Those symbols become stylized pretty fast. You end up with little clay chips that are
money.
Clay isn't very sturdy so they start making them out of metal. Eventually paper is invented and they just print them on paper. Somebody gets the bright idea that by expanding the set of symbols you can use them for recording more than business transactions. Maybe your laws or your religious texts. Even the news and birthday greetings. In fact, in most human societies, the writing system evolved from bookkeeping records!
So we come back to what I have said before: Money is nothing more or less than a
record of surplus wealth or "capital." It represents a warehouse full of olive oil, or a lot full of wagons, or a shack full of hides, or a field of grapevines that will become wine in a few months, or a repertoire of songs and the talent to play them.
In a city, much less an entire interconnected planet, business is much too complicated to transact by barter. You need to keep records, and we call those records
money.