A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

A
BRIEF
H I S TO RY
OF

E Q UA L I T Y
•
THOMAS PIKETTY

Translated by Steven Rendall

The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press

c am b ri d ge , m as­sa­chu­s et ts  l on d on , ­engl and  2022
  Copyright © 2022 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College
First published in French as Une bréve histoire de l’égalité
© Éditions du Seuil 2021
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of Amer­i­ca

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The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as

follows:

Names: Piketty, Thomas, 1971– author. | Rendall, Steven, translator.

Title: A brief history of equality / Thomas Piketty ; translated
from the French by Steven Rendall.
Other titles: Brève histoire de l’égalité English
Description: Cambridge, Massachusetts : The Belknap Press of
Harvard University Press, 2022. | First published in French as
Une bréve histoire de l’égalité, Éditions du Seuil, 2021. |
Includes bibliographical references and index. |
Identifiers: LCCN 2021053186 | ISBN 9780674273559 (cloth)
Subjects: LCSH: Equality—History. | Social classes—History. |
Income distribution—History.
Classification: LCC HM821 .P547 2022 | DDC 305.09—dc23/eng/20211202
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021053186
 Contents

Acknowl­edgments vii
Introduction 1

1 The Movement ­toward Equality:

The First Milestones 16

2 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 30

3 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 48

4 The Question of Reparations 68

5 Revolution, Status, and Class 95

6 The “­Great Re­distribution”: 1914–1980 121

7 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 150

8 Real Equality against Discrimination 175

9 Exiting Neo­co­lo­nial­ism 203

10 ­Toward a Demo­cratic, Ecological, and

Multicultural Socialism 226

Contents in Detail 247

List of Tables and Illustrations 251
Index 255
 Acknowl­e dgments

“What you write is in­ter­est­ing, but ­couldn’t you make it a ­little shorter,
so I can share your research with my friends and f­ amily?”
In part, this book is a response to this question, which has regu-
larly been asked by readers over the years. In the course of the last
two de­cades, I have written three works r­ unning to about a thousand
pages (each!) concerning the history of inequalities: Top Incomes over
the Twentieth ­Century (2001), Capital in the Twenty-­First ­Century
(2013), and Capital and Ideology (2019). ­These books are themselves
based on a vast international program of historical and comparative
research that has led to the publication of several collective reports
and studies as well as to the development of the World In­equality
Database (WID).1 The volume of the documentation thereby consti-
tuted might well discourage the best-­intentioned citizen. It was time
for a summation. H ­ ere is the result.
However, this book is not l­imited to a systematic pre­sen­ta­tion of
the main lessons learned from t­ hese works. By recapitulating the

1. The editions in En­g lish are: A. B. Atkinson and T. Piketty, eds., Top Incomes over
the Twentieth C­ entury (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007); A. B. Atkinson and T.
Piketty, Top Incomes: A Global Perspective (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010); F.
Alvaredo, L. Chancel, T. Piketty, E. Saez, and G. Zucman, World In­e quality Report
2018 (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2018); A. Gethin, C.
Martínez-­Toledano, and T. Piketty, eds., Po­liti­c al Cleavages and Social Inequalities
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2021). Many texts and materials proceeding
from this research are available on t­ hese websites: wid.world, wpid.world, and piketty.
pse.ens.fr.
viii Acknowl­edgments

debates to which ­these questions have given rise in recent years, it pro-
vides a new perspective on the history of in­equality based on a strong
conviction forged in the course of my research: the advance ­toward
equality is a b
­ attle that began long ago and needs only to be continued
in the twenty-­first c­ entury, provided that we all participate in it and
that we break with the divisions based on racial or cultural identity
and on disciplines that too often prevent us from moving forward.
Economic questions are too impor­tant to be left to a small class of spe-
cialists and man­ag­ers. Citizens’ reappropriation of this knowledge is
an essential stage in the transformation of power relationships. Nat-
urally, I also hope to convince some of my readers to peruse, one day,
the more voluminous works (which, I hasten to say, are very acces-
sible, despite their length!). In the meantime, this short text can be
read in­de­pen­dently of the ­others, and I would like to take this oppor-
tunity to thank all the readers, students, and citizens who have en-
couraged me in this enterprise, and whose questions have enriched
this work. This book is dedicated to them.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY
 INTRODUCTION

This book offers a comparative history of inequalities among social

classes in ­human socie­ties. Or rather, it offers a history of equality,
­because, as we ­shall see, ­there has been a long-­term movement over
the course of history ­toward more social, economic, and po­liti­cal
equality.
This is not, of course, a peaceful history, and still less a linear one.
Revolts and revolutions, social strug­gles and crises of all kinds play a
central role in the history of equality reviewed ­here. This history is
also punctuated by multiple phases of regression and identitarian
introversion.
Nonetheless, at least since the end of the eigh­teenth ­century ­there
has been a historical movement t­ oward equality. The world of the early
2020s, no ­matter how unjust it may seem, is more egalitarian than
that of 1950 or that of 1900, which w ­ ere themselves in many re­spects
more egalitarian than ­those of 1850 or 1780. The precise developments
vary depending on the period, and on w ­ hether we are studying in-
equalities between social classes defined by l­ egal status, owner­ship of
the means of production, income, education, national or ethno-­racial
­origin—­a ll dimensions that ­will interest us ­here. But over the long
term, no ­matter which criterion we employ, we arrive at the same con-
clusion. Between 1780 and 2020, we see developments tending t­ oward
greater equality of status, property, income, genders, and races within
most regions and socie­ties on the planet, and to a certain extent when
we compare ­these socie­ties on the global scale. If we adopt a global,
2 Introduction

multidimensional perspective on inequalities, we can see that, in sev-

eral re­spects, this advance t­ oward equality has also continued during
the period from 1980 to 2020, which is more complex and mixed than
is often thought.
Since the end of the eigh­teenth ­century, t­ here has been a real, long-­
term tendency t­ oward equality, but it is nonetheless ­limited in scope.
We s­ hall see that dif­fer­ent inequalities have persisted at considerable
and unjustified levels on all t­hese dimensions—­status, property,
power, income, gender, origin, and so on—­and, moreover, that indi-
viduals often face inequalities in combination. To assert that t­ here is
a tendency ­toward equality is not to brag about success. Instead, it is
to call for continuing the fight on a solid, historical basis. By exam-
ining how movement t­ oward equality has actually been produced, we
can learn precious lessons for our f­ uture and better understand the
strug­gles and mobilizations that have made this movement pos­si­ble,
as well as the institutional structures and ­legal, social, fiscal, educa-
tional, and electoral systems that have allowed equality to become a
lasting real­ity. Unfortunately, this pro­cess of collective learning about
equitable institutions is often weakened by historical amnesia, intel-
lectual nationalism, and the compartmentalization of knowledge. In
order to continue the advance t­ oward equality, we must return to the
lessons of history and transcend national and disciplinary borders.
The pre­sent work—­which belongs to the domains of history and the
social sciences, and is both optimistic and progressive—­seeks to move
in that direction.

A New Economic and Social History

It is pos­si­ble to write this Brief History of Equality t­ oday chiefly b
­ ecause
of the many international studies that have profoundly renewed re-
search in economic and social history in recent de­cades.
In par­tic­u­lar, I ­shall base my remarks on the multiple works that
have provided us with a genuinely global perspective on the history
of capitalism and of the Industrial Revolution. I am thinking, for
 Introduction 3

example, about Ken Pomeranz’s study, published in 2000, on the “­great

divergence” between Eu­rope and China in the eigh­teenth and nine-
teenth centuries,1 prob­ably the most impor­tant and influential book
on the history of the world-­economy (économie-­monde) since the pub-
lication of Fernand Braudel’s Civilisation matérielle, économie et
capitalisme in 1979 and the works of Immanuel Wallerstein on “world-­
systems analy­sis.”2 For Pomeranz, the development of Western in-
dustrial capitalism is closely linked to systems of the international
division of ­labor, the frenetic exploitation of natu­ral resources, and
the Eu­ro­pean powers’ military and colonial domination over the rest
of the planet. Subsequent studies have largely confirmed that conclu-
sion, ­whether through the research of Prasannan Parthasarathi or
that of Sven Beckert and the recent movement around the “new his-
tory of capitalism.”3
More generally, historians of colonial empires and slavery, along
with t­ hose who study global, connected history, have made im­mense
strides over the past twenty to thirty years, and I ­shall lean very heavi­ly
on their works. I am thinking in par­tic­u­lar of the research of Fred-
erick Cooper, Catherine Hall, Or Rosenboim, Emmanuelle Saada,
Pierre Singaravelou, Alessandro Stanziani, Sanjay Subrahmanyam,
and many ­others who ­w ill appear as the argument advances.4 My

1. K. Pomeranz, The ­Great Divergence: China, Eu­rope and the Making of the Modern
World Economy (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2000).
2. F. Braudel, Civilization and Capitalism, 3 vols., trans. Siân Reynold (New York:
Harper and Row, 1982–1984); I. Wallerstein, The Modern World-­System, 4 vols. (New
York: Academic Press, 1974–1989).
3. P. Parthasarathi, Why Eu­rope Grew Rich and Asia Did Not: Global Economic Di-
vergence 1600–1850 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011); S. Beckert, Empire
of Cotton: A Global History (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2014); S. Beckert and S.
Rockman, Slavery’s Capitalism: A New History of American Economic Development
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2016); J. Levy, Ages of American Capi-
talism: A History of the United States (New York: Random House, 2021).
4. See, for example, F. Cooper, Citizenship between Empire and Nation: Remaking
France and French Africa 1945–1960 (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2014);
C. Hall, N. Draper, K. McClelland, K. Donington, and R. Lang, Legacies of British
Slave-­Ownership: Colonial Slavery and the Formation of Victorian Britain (Cambridge:
4 Introduction

work is also inspired by the renewal of research on ­people’s history

and the history of popu­lar strug­gles.5
In addition, this brief history could not have been written without
the pro­g ress made in understanding the historical distribution of
wealth among social classes. This domain of research itself has a long
history. All socie­ties have produced knowledge and analyses of real,
supposed, or desirable differences in wealth between the poor and the
rich, at least since The Republic and The Laws (in which Plato recom-
mends that t­ hese differences not exceed a ratio of one to four). In the
eigh­teenth c­ entury, Jean-­Jacques Rousseau explained that the inven-
tion of private property and its immoderate accumulation are the or-
igin of in­equality and discord among ­people. However, not ­until the
arrival of the Industrial Revolution did genuine inquiries into workers’
salaries and living conditions develop, along with new sources dealing
with income, profits, and properties. In the nineteenth ­century, Karl
Marx tried to make best use of the British financial and inheritance
data of his time, even if the means and the material at his disposal
w
­ ere ­limited.6

Cambridge University Press, 2014); O. Rosenboim, The Emergence of Globalism: Visions

of World Order in Britain and the United States 1939–1950 (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton
University Press, 2017); E. Saada, Les Enfants de la colonie. Les métis de l’empire fran-
çais, entre sujétion et citoyenneté (Paris: La Découverte, 2007); P. Singaravélou and S.
Venayre, eds., Histoire du monde au xixe siècle (Paris: Fayard, 2017); S. Subrahmanyam,
Empires between Islam and Chris­tian­ity, 1500–1800 (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2019); A.
Stanziani, Les Métamorphoses du travail contraint. Une histoire globale, xviiie–­xixe siè-
cles (Paris: Presses de Sciences Po, 2020).
5. H. Zinn, A ­People’s History of the United States (1980; New York: Harper, 2009);
M. Zancarini-­Fournel, Les Luttes et les Rêves. Une histoire populaire de la France de 1685
à nos jours (Paris: La Découverte, 2016); G. Noiriel, Une histoire populaire de la France
de la guerre de Cent Ans à nos jours (Marseille: Agone, 2018); D. Tartakowsky, Le pou-
voir est dans la rue. Crises politiques et manifestations en France, xixe–­x xe siècles (Paris:
Aubier, 1998); B. Pavard, F. Rochefort, and M. Zancarini-­Fournel, Ne nous libérez pas,
on s’en charge! Une histoire des féminismes de 1789 à nos jours (Paris: La Découverte,
2020).
6. T. Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-­First C
­ entury (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of
Harvard University Press, 2014), 3–11, 229–230.
 Introduction 5

In the course of the twentieth ­century, research on ­these questions

took a more systematic turn. Researchers began to collect on a large
scale data regarding prices and salaries, land income and profits, in-
heritances and plots of land. In 1933, Ernest Labrousse published his
Esquisse du mouvement des prix et des revenus en France au xviiie
siècle (Sketch of the movement of prices and income in France during
the eigh­teenth c­ entury), a monumental study in which he shows how
in the course of the de­cades preceding the French Revolution, agri-
cultural wages fell ­behind relative to the price of wheat and to land
income, all in the context of strong demographic pressure. Without
claiming it was the sole cause of the Revolution, it seems clear that
this development could only increase the growing unpopularity of the
aristocracy and of the established po­liti­cal regime.7 In 1965, on the first
page of their study Le Mouvement du profit en France au xixe siècle
(The movement of profit in France in the nineteenth ­century), Jean
Bouvier and his coauthors described the research program with which
they identified: “So long as the incomes of con­temporary social classes
remain beyond the scope of scientific inquiry, it w ­ ill be pointless to
try to write a valid economic and social history.”8
Often associated with the Annales school, which was particularly
influential in French historical research between 1930 and 1980, this
new economic and social history did not neglect the study of prop-
erty systems. In 1931, Marc Bloch published his classic study on the
typology of medieval and modern agrarian systems.9 In 1973, Ade-
line Daumard presented the results of a vast investigation carried out

7. E. Labrousse, Esquisse du mouvement des prix et des revenus en France au xviiie

siècle (Paris: Dalloz, 1933). Compare A. Chabert, Essai sur les mouvements des prix et des
revenus en France de 1798 à 1820 (Paris: Librairie de Medicis, 1949), which documents an
increase in wages during the Revolution and the Empire.
8. J. Bouvier, F. Furet, and M. Gilet, Le Mouvement du profit en France au xixe siècle.
Matériaux et études (Paris: Mouton, 1965).
9. M. Bloch, Les Caractères originaux de l’histoire rurale française (Paris: Armand
Colin, 1931).
6 Introduction

in nineteenth-­century French inheritance archives.10 Since the 1980s,

the movement has slowed a bit, but it has left a lasting mark on the
practices of research in the social sciences. In the course of the twen-
tieth c­ entury, numerous historical studies on wages and prices, in-
come and wealth, and tithes and properties have been published by a
multitude of historians, sociologists, and economists, from François
Simiand to Christian Baudelot and from Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie
to Gilles Postel-­Vinay.11
In parallel, US and British historians and economists also paved
the way for a history of the distribution of wealth. In 1953, Simon Kuznets
combined the first national accounts, which he had helped establish
following the trauma of the Depression, with data from the federal
income tax (created in 1913, ­after a long po­liti­cal and constitutional
­battle) in order to estimate the share of high incomes in national in-
come.12 The study concerned only a single country (the United States)
and a relatively short period (1913–1948), but it was the first study
of this kind, and it caused a g­ reat stir. Robert Lampman did the
same in 1962 with data from the federal tax on inheritance.13 In 1978,
Tony Atkinson pushed the analy­sis further, using British sources on
inheritance.14 Alice Hanson Jones went even further back in time,

10. A. Daumard, Les Fortunes françaises au xixe siècle. Enquête sur la répartition et
la composition des capitaux privés à Paris, Lyon, Lille, Bordeaux et Toulouse d’après
l’enregistrement des déclarations de successions (Paris: Mouton, 1973).
11. In addition to the works already cited, see F. Simiand, Le Salaire, l’Évolution so-
ciale et la Monnaie (Paris: Alcan, 1932); C. Baudelot and A. Lebeaupin, Les Salaires de
1950 à 1975 (Paris: INSEE, 1979); J. Goy and E. Le Roy Ladurie, Les Fluctuations du
produit de la dîme. Conjoncture décimale et domaniale de la fin du Moyen Âge au xviiie
siècle (Paris: Mouton, 1972); G. Postel-­Vinay, La Terre et l’Argent. L’agriculture et le crédit
en France du xviiie siècle au début du xxe siècle (Paris: Albin Michel, 1998); J. Bourdieu,
L. Kesztenbaum, and G. Postel-­Vinay, L’Enquête TRA. vol. 1: 1793–1902: histoire d’un
outil, outil pour l’histoire (Paris: Institut national d’études démographiques, 2013).
12. S. Kuznets, Shares of Upper Income Groups in Income and Savings (Cambridge
MA: National Bureau of Economic Research, 1953).
13. R. J. Lampman, The Share of Top Wealth-­Holders in National Wealth, 1922–56
(Prince­ton NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 1962).
14. A. B. Atkinson and A. J. Harrison, Distribution of Personal Wealth in Britain
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978).
 Introduction 7

publishing in 1977 the results of a vast inquiry into the property in-
ventories of Americans in the colonial period.15
Drawing on all the e­ arlier studies, a new program of historical
research on income and wealth was established in the early 2000s, a
program in which I had the good fortune to participate with the
decisive support of numerous colleagues, including Facundo Alva-
redo, Tony Atkinson, Lucas Chancel, Emmanuel Saez, and Gabriel
Zucman.16 In comparison to ­earlier works, this new wave had
the advantage of advanced technical means. Between 1930 to 1980,
Labrousse, Daumard, and Kuznets carried out their research almost
exclusively by hand, on file cards. ­Every collection of data and ­every
­table of results required a substantial technical investment, some-
times leaving the researcher with ­little energy for the work of his-
torical interpretation, mobilization of other resources, and critical
analy­sis of the categories, an obligation that no doubt helped weaken
a history sometimes seen as too narrowly “serial” (that is, too cen-
tered on the production of historical series comparable in time and
space, an exercise that may be seen as necessary, but not in any way
sufficient, for making pro­gress in the social sciences). In addition,
the sources collected during this first wave of studies left few traces,
which ­limited the pos­si­ble reutilizations and the establishment of a
genuine cumulative pro­cess.
Conversely, the pro­gress of computerization since 2000 has made
it pos­si­ble to extend the analy­sis to longer periods and to a greater
number of countries. Proceeding from this research program, in 2021
the World In­equality Database (WID.world) brought together the
combined efforts of almost a hundred researchers concerning eighty
countries on e­ very continent, with data on the distribution of income

15. A. H. Jones, American Colonial Wealth: Documents and Methods (New York:
Arno Press, 1977).
16. T. Piketty, Les Hauts Revenus en France au xxe siècle (Paris: Grasset, 2001); and
then A. B. Atkinson and T. Piketty, Top Incomes over the 20th ­Century (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2007); and A. B. Atkinson and T. Piketty, Top Incomes: A Global Per-
spective (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).
8 Introduction

and wealth ­going back, in some cases, to the eigh­teenth and nine-
teenth centuries, and ­going forward as far as the first de­cades of the
twenty-­f irst ­century.17 This broader temporal and comparative
perspective has made it pos­si­ble to multiply comparisons and achieve
impor­tant advances in the social, economic, and po­liti­cal interpreta-
tion of the developments observed. This collective work led me to publish
in 2013 and 2019 two studies proposing the first interpretive syntheses
on the historical evolution of the distribution of wealth, studies that
have helped inform public debates on t­ hese questions.18 New research
conducted with Amory Gethin and Clara Martínez-­Toledano has re-
cently set out to study the transformations of the structure of social
inequalities and po­liti­cal cleavages, in line with the studies launched
in the 1960s by the po­liti­cal scientists Seymour Lipset and Stein
Rokkan.19 While t­ hese vari­ous research programs have made certain
advances pos­si­ble, we must nevertheless emphasize that much remains
to be done to combine diverse methodologies, sources, and research
skills to provide a satisfactory analy­sis of the repre­sen­ta­tions and in-
stitutions, the mobilizations and strug­gles, the strategies and actors
involved in the transformations brought to light.
A Brief History of Equality has also been made pos­si­ble by a new
generation of researchers, and interdisciplinary studies that have
renewed reflection on the sociohistorical dynamics of equality and
in­equality at the frontier of history, economics, sociology, law, anthro-

17. The World In­equality Database was initially created in 2011 ­u nder the name
“World Top Incomes Database,” before taking its current name with the publication in
French and then in En­g lish of F. Alvaredo, L. Chancel, T. Piketty, E. Saez, and G.
Zucman, World In­equality Report 2018 (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2018).
18. Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-­First ­Century; T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology
(Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2020).
19. A. Gethin, C. Martínez-­Toledano, and T. Piketty, eds., Po­liti­cal Cleavages and So-
cial Inequalities: A Study of Fifty Democracies, 1948–2020 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 2021). Compare S. Lipset and S. Rokkan, “Cleavage Structures, Party
Systems and Voter Alignments: An Introduction,” in Party Systems and Voter Align-
ments: Cross-­national Perspectives, ed. Lipset and Rokkan (New York: F ­ ree Press, 1967).
 Introduction 9

pology, and po­liti­cal science. I refer to the research of Nicolas Barreyre,

Erik Bengtsson, Asma Benhenda, Marlène Benquet, Céline Bessière,
Tithi Bhattacharya, Rafe Blaufarb, Julia Cagé, Denis Cogneau, Nicolas
Delalande, Isabelle Ferreras, Nancy Fraser, Sibylle Gollac, Yajna
Govind, David Graeber, Julien Grenet, Stéphanie Hennette, Camille
Herlin-­Giret, Élise Huillery, Alexandra Killewald, Stephanie Kelton,
Claire Lemercier, Noam Maggor, Ewan McGaughey, Dominique
Meda, Eric Monnet, Pap Ndiaye, Martin O’Neill, Hélène Périvier,
Fabian Pfeffer, Katharina Pistor, Patrick Simon, Alexis Spire, Pavlina
Tcherneva, Samuel Weeks, Madeline Woker, Shoshana Zuboff, and
many o­ thers whom I cannot cite h ­ ere, but whose names and work w ­ ill
appear throughout the book. 20

The Revolts against Injustice and Learning about

Equitable Institutions
What are the main lessons that can be drawn from this new economic
and social history? The most obvious is no doubt the following: in­
equality is first of all a social, historical, and po­liti­cal construction.
In other words, for the same level of economic or technological de-
velopment, t­ here are always many dif­fer­ent ways of organ­izing a prop-
erty system or a border system, a social and po­liti­cal system or a
fiscal and educational system. ­These options are po­liti­cal in nature.
They depend on the state of power relationships between the vari­ous
social groups and the worldviews involved, and they lead to inegali-
tarian levels and structures that are extremely variable, depending on
socie­ties and periods. All creations of wealth in history have issued
from a collective pro­cess: they depend on the international division
of l­abor, the use of worldwide natu­ral resources, and the accumula-
tion of knowledge since the beginnings of humanity. ­Human socie­
ties constantly invent rules and institutions in order to structure

20. The complete references ­w ill be given as they are used.

10 Introduction

themselves and to divide up wealth and power, but always on the basis
of reversible po­liti­cal choices.
The second lesson is that since the end of the eigh­teenth ­century
­there has been a long-­term movement ­toward equality. This is the con-
sequence of conflicts and revolts against injustice that have made it
pos­si­ble to transform power relationships and overthrow institutions
supported by the dominant classes, which seek to structure social in­
equality in a way that benefits them, and to replace them with new
institutions and new social, economic, and po­liti­cal rules that are
more equitable and emancipatory for the majority. Generally speaking,
the most fundamental transformations seen in the history of inegali-
tarian regimes involve social conflicts and large-­scale po­liti­cal crises.
It was the peasant revolts of 1788–1789 and the events of the French
Revolution that led to the abolition of the nobility’s privileges. Simi-
larly, it was not muted discussions in Paris salons but the slave revolt
in Saint-­Domingue in 1791 that led to the beginning of the end of the
Atlantic slavery system. In the course of the twentieth c­ entury, social
and trade-­union mobilizations played a major role in the establish-
ment of new power relationships between capital and l­ abor and in the
reduction of inequalities. The two world wars can also be analyzed as
the consequence of social tensions and contradictions connected with
the intolerable in­equality that prevailed before 1914, both domestically
and internationally. In the United States, it took a devastating civil
war to put an end to the slavery system in 1865. A c­ entury l­ater, in
1965, the Civil Rights movement succeeded in abolishing the system
of l­egal racial discrimination (without, however, putting an end to dis-
crimination that was illegal and nonetheless still very real). Exam-
ples are many: in the 1950s and 1960s the wars of in­de­pen­dence played
a central role in ending Eu­ro­pean colonialism; it took de­cades of
riots and mobilizations to do away with South African apartheid in
1994, and so on.
In addition to revolutions, wars, and revolts, economic and finan-
cial crises often serve as turning points where social conflicts are crys-
tallized and power relationships are redefined. The crisis of the 1930s
 Introduction 11

played a central part in the long-­lasting delegitimation of economic

liberalism and the justification of new forms of state intervention.
More recently, the financial crisis of 2008 and the worldwide Covid-19
pandemic in 2020–2021 have already begun to overturn vari­ous cer-
tainties that shortly before had been considered irrefutable, certain-
ties concerning, for example, the acceptable level of public debt or the
role of central banks. On a more local but still significant scale, the
revolt of the gilets jaunes (“yellow vests”) in France in 2018 ended with
the government’s abandonment of its plan to increase the carbon tax,
which is particularly inegalitarian. At the beginning of the 2020s, the
Black Lives ­Matter, #MeToo, and Fridays for ­Future movements are
showing an impressive ability to mobilize ­people around racial,
gender, and climatic inequalities, across national borders and gener-
ations. Taking into account the social and environmental contra-
dictions of the current economic system, it is likely that such revolts,
conflicts, and crises ­will continue to play a central role in the ­future,
­under circumstances that it is impossible to predict with precision.
The end of history w ­ ill not come tomorrow. The movement t­oward
equality still has a long way to go, especially in a world in which the
poorest, and particularly the poorest in the poorest countries, are pre-
paring to be subjected, with increasing vio­lence, to climatic and en-
vironmental damage caused by the richest p ­ eople’s way of life.
It is also impor­tant to highlight another lesson issuing from his-
tory, namely that strug­gles and power relationships are not sufficient
as such. They are a necessary condition for overturning inegalitarian
institutions and established powers, but unfortunately they do not in
any way guarantee that the new institutions and the new powers that
­will replace them ­will always be as egalitarian and emancipatory as
we might have hoped.
The reason for this is s­ imple. Although it is easy to denounce the
inegalitarian or oppressive nature of established institutions and gov-
ernments, it is much harder to agree on the alternative institutions
that ­will make it pos­si­ble to make real pro­gress ­toward social, economic,
and po­liti­cal equality, while at the same time respecting individual
12 Introduction

rights, including the right to be dif­fer­ent. The task is not at all impos-
sible, but it requires us to accept deliberation, the confrontation of
differing points of view, compromises, and experimentation. Above
all, it requires us to accept the fact that we can learn from the his-
torical trajectories and experiences of ­others, and especially that the
exact content of just institutions is not known a priori and is worth
debating as such. Concretely, we ­will see that since the end of the eigh­
teenth ­century, the march ­toward equality has been based on the de-
velopment of a number of specific institutional arrangements that
have to be studied as such: equality before the law; universal suffrage
and parliamentary democracy; ­f ree and obligatory education; uni-
versal health insurance; progressive taxes on income, inheritance,
and property; joint management and l­ abor law; freedom of the press;
international law; and so on.
However, each of ­these arrangements, far from having reached a
complete and consensual form, is connected with a precarious, un-
stable, and temporary compromise, in perpetual redefinition and
emerging from specific social conflicts and mobilizations, interrupted
bifurcations, and par­tic­u­lar historical moments. They all suffer from
multiple insufficiencies and must be constantly rethought, supple-
mented, and replaced by ­others. As it currently exists almost every-
where, formal equality before the law does not exclude profound dis-
criminations based on origins or gender; representative democracy
is only one of the imperfect forms of participation in politics; in-
equalities of access to education and health care remain extremely
intractable; progressive taxes and re­d istribution of wealth must
be completely reconceived on the domestic and international scale;
power-­sharing in business enterprises is still in its infancy; control of
almost all the media by a few oligarchs can hardly be considered the
most complete form of a ­f ree press; the international ­legal system,
founded on the uncontrolled circulation of capital without any social
or climatic objective, is usually related to a kind of neo­co­lo­nial­ism that
benefits the wealthiest p ­ eople, and so on.
 Introduction 13

To continue to shake up and redefine established institutions, crises

and power relations are necessary, as was the case in the past, but we
­will also need pro­cesses of learning and collective engagement, as well
as mobilization around new po­liti­cal programs and proposals for new
institutions. This requires multiple frameworks for the discussion,
elaboration, and diffusion of knowledge and experiences: po­liti­cal
parties and ­labor ­u nions, schools and books, travel and meetings,
newspapers and electronic media. The social sciences naturally have
a role to play in this, a significant role, but one that must not be exag-
gerated: the pro­cesses of social adaptation are the most impor­tant.
Above all, this adaptation also involves collective organ­izations, whose
forms themselves remain to be reinvented.

Power Relationships and Their Limits

In sum, two symmetrical pitfalls must be avoided: one consists in ne-
glecting the role of strug­gles and power relationships in the history
of equality. The other consists, on the contrary, in sanctifying and ne-
glecting the importance of po­liti­cal and institutional outcomes along
with the role of ideas and ideologies in their elaboration. Re­sis­tance
by elites is an ineluctable real­ity ­today, in a world in which transna-
tional billionaires are richer than states, much as in the French Revo-
lution. Such re­sis­tance can be overcome only by power­ful collective
mobilizations during moments of crisis and tension. Nonetheless, the
idea that t­ here is a spontaneous consensus regarding equitable and
emancipatory institutions, and that breaking elites’ re­sis­tance would
be sufficient to put these institutions in place, is a dangerous illusion.
Questions regarding the organ­ization of the welfare state, the recasting
of the progressive income tax and international treaties, postcolo-
nial reparations, or the strug­gle against discrimination are both com-
plex and technical and can be overcome only through a recourse to
history, the diffusion of knowledge, deliberation, and confrontation
among differing points of view. Social class, no m ­ atter how impor­tant,
14 Introduction

does not suffice to forge a theory of a just society, a theory of property,

a theory of borders, of taxation, of education, of wages and salaries, or
of democracy. For any par­tic­u­lar social experience, ­there ­will always
be a form of ideological indetermination, on the one hand ­because
class is itself plural and multidimensional (status, property, income,
diplomas, gender, origin, and so on), and on the other b ­ ecause the
complexity of the questions asked does not allow us to suppose that
purely material antagonisms could lead to a single conclusion regarding
equitable institutions.
The experiment of Soviet communism (1917–1991), a major event
that runs through and to a certain extent defines the twentieth
­century, perfectly illustrates t­ hese two pitfalls. On the one hand, it was
in fact power relationships and intense social strug­gles that allowed
the Bolshevik revolutionaries to replace the czarist regime with the
first “proletarian state” in history, a state that initially achieved con-
siderable advances in education, public health, and industry, while
at the same time making a major contribution to the victory over
Nazism. Without the pressure of the Soviet Union and the interna-
tional communist movement, it is not at all certain that the Western
property-­owning classes would have accepted Social Security and pro-
gressive income taxes, decolonization and civil rights. On the other
hand, the sanctification of power relationships and the Bolsheviks’
certainty that they knew the ultimate truth concerning equitable in-
stitutions led to the totalitarian disaster we witnessed. The institu-
tional arrangements put in place (a single po­liti­cal party, bureau-
cratic centralization, hegemonic state property, and a rejection of
cooperative property, elections, l­abor u ­ nions, and so on) claimed to
be more emancipatory than bourgeois or social-­democratic institu-
tions. They led to levels of oppression and imprisonment that com-
pletely discredited this regime and ultimately caused its fall, while at
the same time contributing to the emergence of a new form of hyper-
capitalism. That is how, ­a fter being in the twentieth ­century the
country that had entirely abolished private property, Rus­sia became
at the beginning of the twenty-­first ­century the world capital of the
 Introduction 15

oligarchs, financial opacity, and tax havens. For all t­ hese reasons, we
have to examine closely the genesis of t­ hese dif­fer­ent institutional
arrangements, just as we have to study the institutions set up by
Chinese communism, which might prove more durable, though no
less oppressive.
I have sought to avoid ­these two pitfalls: power relationships must
be neither ignored nor sanctified. Strug­gles play a central role in the
history of equality, but we must also take seriously the question of eq-
uitable institutions and egalitarian deliberation about them. It is not
always easy to find a balanced position between ­these two points: if
we overemphasize power relationships and strug­gles, we can be ac-
cused of yielding to Manichaeism and neglecting the question of ideas
and content; conversely, by focusing attention on the ideological and
programmatic weaknesses of the egalitarian co­ali­tion, we can be sus-
pected of further weakening it, and underestimating the dominant
classes’ ability to resist and their short-­sighted egoism (which is, how-
ever, often patent). I have done my best to escape ­these two pitfalls, but
I am not sure I have always succeeded, and I beg my readers’ indulgence
in advance. Above all, I hope the historical and comparative materials
presented in this book ­will be useful in clarifying the nature of a just
society and the institutions that compose it.
 •
1

T H E M O V E M E N T ­T O WA R D E Q U A L I T Y

The First Milestones

Let’s start at the heart of the m ­ atter. H­ uman pro­gress exists: the
movement ­toward equality is a b ­ attle that can be won, but it is a
­battle whose outcome is uncertain, a fragile social and po­liti­cal pro­cess
that is always ongoing and in question. I ­shall begin by recalling the
historical pro­gress that has been achieved in terms of education and
health care before examining the highly po­liti­cal questions raised by
the choice of socioeconomic indicators. Then, in the following chapter,
we ­will examine a few basic ele­ments and ­orders of magnitude con-
cerning the slow deconcentration of power, property, and income.

­Human Pro­gress: Education and Health Care for All

­ uman pro­gress exists: to be convinced of this, it suffices to observe
H
the development of health care and education in the world since 1820
(see Figure 1). The available data are incomplete, but ­there is no doubt
about the tendency. On average, life expectancy at birth has risen
worldwide, from about twenty-­six years in 1820 to seventy-­two years
in 2020. At the beginning of the nineteenth c­ entury, about 20 ­percent
of newborns on the planet died in the course of their first year, as com-
pared with less than 1 ­percent ­today. If we concentrate on ­people who
reached age one, life expectancy at birth has risen from about thirty-
 The Movement ­toward Equality 17

90 90%
85 85%
80 Life expectancy at birth for 80%
75 children surviving to age 1 (left axis) 75%
70 Life expectancy at birth (left axis) 70%
65 65%
60 Literacy rate (right axis) 60%
55 55%
Years

50 50%
45 45%
40 40%
35 35%
30 30%
25 25%
20 20%
15 15%
10 10%
1820 1840 1860 1880 1900 1920 1940 1960 1980 2000 2020

figure 1. ​Health Care and Education in the World, 1820–2020

Worldwide life expectancy at birth (all births taken together) has risen from about
twenty-­six years on average in 1820 to seventy-­t wo years in 2020. Life expectancy at
birth among persons reaching the age of one has risen from thirty-­two years to
seventy-­t hree years (infant mortality before the age of one has decreased from about
20 ­percent in 1820 to less than 1 ­percent in 2020). The literacy rate in the world pop-
ulation aged fifteen or more has risen from 12 ­percent to 85 ­percent. Sources and
series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

t­ wo years in 1820 to seventy-­three years in 2020. Two centuries ago,

only a small minority of the population could hope to live to be fifty
or sixty years old; ­today, that privilege has become the norm.
At pre­sent, humanity is in better health than it has ever been; it also
has more access to education and culture than ever before. Informa-
tion collected in many inquiries and censuses allows us to estimate
that at the beginning of the nineteenth ­century, hardly 10 ­percent of the
world population over the age of fifteen could read and write, whereas
­today more than 85 ­percent is literate. Th
­ ere again, more refined in-
dicators confirm the diagnosis. The average number of years of educa-
tion has risen from hardly one year two centuries ago to more than eight
years worldwide t­oday, and more than twelve years in the most ad-
vanced countries. In 1820, less than 10 ­percent of the world population
18 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

attended primary school; in 2020, more than half of the young gen-
eration in wealthy countries attended a university: what had always
been a class privilege is gradually becoming open to the majority.
To be sure, this g­ reat leap forward merely shifted inequalities to
another level. Disparities in access to education and basic health care
between global North and South remain very deep, and they are still
considerable nearly everywhere at more advanced levels of the health
care or educational systems—­for example, in higher education. We s­ hall
see that this is a major issue for the f­uture. At this point, let us say
simply that it always works this way: the march ­toward equality passes
through successive stages. As access to certain fundamental rights and
goods (such as literacy or elementary health care) is gradually ex-
tended to the w ­ hole population, new inequalities appear at higher
levels and require new responses. Like the quest for ideal democracy,
which is nothing other than the march t­ oward po­liti­cal equality, the
march t­ oward equality in all its forms (social, economic, educational,
cultural, po­liti­cal) is an ongoing pro­cess that ­will never be completed.
We can already observe that in terms of life expectancy and literacy,
the most impor­tant pro­gress was achieved in the twentieth ­century, a
period when the welfare state was greatly expanded, and social secu-
rity and progressive income taxes w ­ ere instituted a­ fter intense po­
liti­cal ­battles. We ­will return to this topic at length. In the nineteenth
­century, social welfare bud­gets remained parsimonious, taxes ­were
regressive, and the pro­gress made by t­ hese indicators was extremely
slow, not to say insignificant. ­Human pro­gress never evolves “natu-
rally”: it is subject to historical pro­cesses and specific social ­battles.

World Population and Average Income:

The Limits of Growth
To become aware of the scope of the historical transformations in-
volved, we must also remember that h
­ uman population and average
income have both multiplied more than tenfold since the eigh­teenth
 The Movement ­toward Equality 19

8.0 800 €
World population
(in billions, left axis)
4.0 400 €
Average income per month and per
person (in 2020 euros, right axis)

2.0 200 €

1.0 100 €

0.5 50 €
1700 1740 1780 1820 1860 1900 1940 1980 2020

figure 2. ​Population and Average Income in the World, 1700–2020

The world population and the average income per person increased more than ten-
fold between 1700 and 2020: the former ­rose from about 600 million in 1700 to more
than 7 billion in 2020; the latter, expressed in 2020 euros and in purchasing power
parity, r­ose from scarcely 80 euros per month per person in 1700 to about 1,000
euros per month in 2020. That corresponds in both cases to an average growth of
about 0.8 ­percent per year, accumulated over 320 years. Sources and series: piketty.
pse.ens.fr/equality

c­ entury. The former has risen from about 600 million in 1700 to more
than 7.5 billion in 2020 while the latter, so far as we can mea­sure it on
the basis of the imperfect historical data available to us regarding sal-
aries and wages, production, and prices, has risen from an average
purchasing power (expressed in 2020 euros) of less that 100 euros per
month per inhabitant of the planet in the eigh­teenth ­century to
about 1,000 euros per month per inhabitant at the beginning of
the twenty-­first ­century (see Figure 2). It ­w ill be noted that the his-
torical pro­gress of the average income becomes truly significant only
starting in the last third of the nineteenth ­century, and especially
in the course of the twentieth ­century. According to the available
sources, it would seem that the development of purchasing power
in the eigh­teenth ­century and during most of the nineteenth ­century
was insignificant, or even occasionally negative (as is indicated, for
20 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

example, by the agricultural wages studied by Labrousse in the case

of pre-­revolutionary France). For the world population, growth has
been more regular over the past three centuries, but it also accelerated
in the twentieth c­ entury.
Can ­these tenfold increases be described as h ­ uman pro­gress? The
interpretation of ­these transformations is in real­ity far more complex
than it is for health care and education. The spectacular growth of the
world population reflects, of course, real improvement in the condi-
tions of individuals’ lives, particularly thanks to advances in agricul-
ture and food supply that have made it pos­si­ble to escape from cycles
of overpopulation and shortages. It also derives from the fall in in-
fant mortality and from the fact that an increasing number of par-
ents have been able to grow old with living ­children, which is not
insignificant. Unfortunately, on the collective level, every­thing indi-
cates that over the long term, such an exponential growth of the pop-
ulation is unsustainable for the planet. If the demographic expansion
of the past three centuries w ­ ere to continue in the ­future, t­here
would be more than 70 billion of us by 2300, and 7,000 billion by the
year 3000, which seems neither plausible nor desirable. It ­will also be
noted that this multiplication by ten of the world population between
1700 and 2020 corresponds to an average population growth of
scarcely 0.8 ­percent per annum, though accumulated over more than
three hundred years.1 This reminds us that ­there is something totally
insane about the very idea of perpetual and unidimensional growth,
prolonged in­def­initely over thousands and millions of years, and in any
event it cannot constitute a reasonable objective for h ­ uman pro­g ress.
In this case, taking into account the observed decline in the birth
rate, it would seem that demographic growth is destined to decrease
sharply in the course of the twenty-­first ­century. Moreover, if we
believe the central scenario of projections from the United Nations
(UN), which is at this point very uncertain, the world population may

1. More precisely: 1.008300 = 10.9.

 The Movement ­toward Equality 21

stabilize at around 11 billion ­humans between now and the end of

the ­century.

The Choice of Socioeconomic Indicators:

A Po­liti­cal Question
The spectacular increase in average income raises prob­lems of inter-
pretation that are dif­fer­ent, but in part come down to the same ­thing.
In absolute terms, the fact that the average income has risen so much
may certainly be considered a positive development, and one that is,
moreover, inseparable from pro­gress in ensuring the food supply and
increasing life expectancy (pro­cesses which reinforced one another).
However, several points need to be made. In general, the choice of so-
cioeconomic indicators is an eminently po­liti­cal one: no indicator
should be regarded as sacred, and the nature of the indicators chosen
must be at the heart of public debate and demo­cratic confrontation.
Concerning indicators such as income, it is first of all essential to
move beyond averages and aggregates, and to examine the real dis-
tribution of wealth among social classes, within countries as well as
at the global level. For example, according to the available data, the
global average income did reach approximately 1,000 euros per month
per inhabitant at the beginning of the 2020s, but it is scarcely 100 to
200 euros a month in the poorest countries, whereas it rises above
3,000 to 4,000 euros a month in the richest countries. Within coun-
tries, ­whether rich or poor, inequalities remain considerable. We ­will
return at length to t­ hese questions all through this book. We ­shall see,
for instance, that although the inequalities between countries have de-
creased since the colonial period, they remain extremely high, re-
flecting in part the fact that the organ­ization of the global economic
system is still very hierarchical and inequitable.2
We must also put into perspective the idea of a purchasing power
multiplied by ten since the eigh­teenth ­century (and in real­ity, since

2. See in par­t ic­u ­lar Chapter 9.

22 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

the end of the nineteenth c­ entury). The order of magnitude is expres-

sive and powerfully conveys the idea of a massive quantitative in-
crease, which is incontestable, but in truth the precise figure is not
very significant. It may make sense to compare incomes in order to
evaluate inequalities within a given society (insofar as the dif­fer­ent
social groups interact and maintain relations with one another
through monetary exchanges) or between countries in a given period
(also insofar as t­ hese socie­ties maintain such contacts with each other,
which has become more and more frequently the case at the global
level since the eigh­teenth ­century), or to study the evolution of pur-
chasing power on the scale of a few years or a few de­cades. On the
other hand, the exercise loses its meaning as soon as we consider
temporal advances as gigantic as the one in question h ­ ere.
To grasp such radical transformations of ways of life, no unidimen-
sional indicator can be sufficient. It is better to resort to a multidi-
mensional approach in order to gauge the evolution of access to con-
crete goods such as education, health care, food, clothing, housing,
transportation, culture, and so on. In this case, depending on the kind
of good (that is, from a technical point of view, depending on the com-
position of the basket of goods used to calculate the price index), we
could just as well conclude that average purchasing power has been
multiplied by two or three or fifteen or twenty (and not by ten) be-
tween 1860 and 2020.3

3. For concrete examples of the rise in purchasing power of the average income ex-
pressed in terms of kilograms of carrots or meat, in newspapers, hairdressers, bicycles,
or apartment rents in France over the course of the twentieth c­ entury, see T. Piketty,
Top Incomes in France in the Twentieth ­Century (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 2018), 71–82; and T. Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-­First ­Century (Cambridge, MA:
Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2014), 87–90. In sum: purchasing power ex-
pressed in manufactured goods has increased more than average, while purchasing
power expressed in terms of ser­v ices has increased much less than average increase (or
even not at all, in the case of certain ser­v ices). Purchasing power expressed in terms of
food is near average.
 The Movement ­toward Equality 23

For a Plurality of Social and

Environmental Indicators
Moreover, it is crucial to account for the fact that the general increase
in population, production, and incomes since the eigh­teenth ­century
took place at the price of overexploiting the planet’s natu­ral resources,
and to examine the sustainability of such a pro­cess and the institu-
tional mechanisms that would make its radical re­orientation pos­si­ble.
­Here again, this requires setting up a ­whole series of indicators per-
mitting social actors to define a multidimensional, balanced concep-
tion of economic, social, and environmental pro­gress. To begin with
macroeconomic indicators, it is greatly preferable to use the notion of
national income rather than that of gross domestic product (GDP).
­There are two essential differences: national income is equal to the GDP
(the sum of goods and ser­vices produced in a country in the course of
one year) minus the depreciation of capital (that is, wear and tear
on tools, machines, and furniture used in production, including, in
princi­ple, natu­ral capital), plus or minus the net income from capital
and ­labor collected from or paid out to the rest of the world (this set
can be ­either positive or negative, depending on each country’s situa-
tion, but by definition t­ hese cancel each other out at the global level).
Let’s take an example. A country that extracts 100 billion euros’
worth of petroleum from its land generates a supplementary GDP of
100 billion euros. On the other hand, the corresponding national in-
come is nil, ­because the stock of natu­ral capital has been reduced by
the same amount. If in addition we attribute a corresponding nega-
tive value to the social cost of carbon emissions produced by burning
the petroleum in question—­which, though we ­ought, we do not al-
ways do, for we now know that t­ hese emissions w ­ ill contribute to
global warming and make life on Earth infernal—­then we obtain a
strongly negative national income.4 The importance of the choice of

4. For example, if we applied a minimal value of 100 euros per ton to the approxi-
mately 50 billion tons of annual emissions of carbon equivalents (on average, about 6.2
24 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

the indicator is clear: the same economic operation can lead to a pos-
itive GDP or a negative national income. This can radically change
the collective evaluation of this or that investment at the level of a
country or an enterprise.
Although it is preferable to focus on the national income (­a fter
taking into account the consumption of natu­ral capital and the cor-
responding social cost) and on the in­equality of its distribution, rather
than confining ourselves to the GDP and to averages, that is none-
theless not sufficient. In fact, no ­matter what monetary value is as-
signed to the social cost of carbon emissions or other externalities (a
generic term used by economists to designate the undesirable effects
of economic activities such as warming, air pollution, or traffic jams),
this unidimensional type of monetary accounting does not make it
pos­si­ble to correctly take into account ­either the damage done or the
stakes involved. In some cases, this approach can even help maintain
the illusion that we can always counterbalance damage with money,
provided that we find the right “relative price” to valorize the envi-
ronment, which is a false and dangerous idea.5 To escape this kind
of intellectual and po­liti­cal dead end, it is also and especially essen-
tial to choose genuinely environmental indicators, such as explicit
temperature limits that must not be exceeded, binding indicators
bearing on biodiversity, and objectives formulated in terms of carbon
emissions.
Just as for incomes, we must take an interest in the unequal distri-
bution of carbon emissions, both from the point of view of the per-
sons responsible for them and from that of ­those who ­will suffer the

tons per inhabitant of the planet), we would end up with an annual social cost of 5 tril-
lion euros, or about 5 ­percent of the world GDP. If we assigned a value of several hun-
dred euros per ton, which is prob­ably indispensable for envisaging an ambitious climate
policy, then that would have a massive impact on the calculation of the global income
and the contribution of the vari­ous countries to collective well-­being.
5. Technically, no one can predict a c­ entury in advance what the “relative value” of
the environment w ­ ill be. Markets and their waves of speculation predict even less well
than the world as a ­whole.
 The Movement ­toward Equality 25

60%
55% Total carbon emissions
50% Individual carbon emissions above
global average
Share of each region in

45%
Emissions above 2.3x global average
carbon emissions

40% (top 10 percent)

35% Emissions above 9.1x global average
30% (top 1 percent)
25%
20%
15%
10%
5%
0%
North America Europe China Rest of world

figure 3. ​Worldwide Distribution of Carbon Emissions, 2010–2018

North Amer­i­ca’s share (United States and Canada) in total carbon emissions (direct
and indirect) was 21 ­percent on average in 2010–2018; it r­ ose to 36 ­percent of indi-
vidual emissions above the global average (6.2 tons of CO2 per year), 46 ­percent of
the emissions above 2.3 times the global average (or the top 10 ­percent of individual
emissions worldwide, responsible for 45 ­percent of total emissions, versus 13 ­percent
for the least-­emitting 50 ­percent), and 57 ­percent of the emissions above 9.1 times
the average (or the top 1 ­percent of individual emissions worldwide, responsible for
14 ­percent of emissions). Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

consequences. For instance, for the period 2010–2018, we find that of

the 1 ­percent of the planet’s inhabitants who emit the most carbon,
almost 60 ­percent reside in North Amer­i­ca (see Figure 3), and that
their total emissions are higher than the combined emissions of the
50 ­percent of the planet’s inhabitants who emit the least.6 It happens
that most of the latter live in Sub-­Saharan Africa and in South Asia,
and ­will be the first affected by global warming. In the ­future, this
kind of indicator could play a growing role in assessing the extent to
which countries re­spect their commitments and in defining compen-
sation mechanisms, as well as in developing a system of individual

6. L. Chancel and T. Piketty, “Carbon and In­equality: From Kyoto to Paris,” 2015,
WID.world. Compare L. Chancel, “Global Carbon In­equality in the Long Run,” 2021,
WID.world.
26 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

carbon cards, which ­will certainly be part of the indispensable insti-

tutional tools for meeting the climatic challenge. More generally, it is
difficult to rethink the organ­ization of the economic system on both
the global and the national levels if we do not have an objective basis
for evaluation using this type of indicator.

No Sustainable Development without a

Mea­sure of In­equality
We must be wary: the solution cannot be found only among purely
environmental indicators, to the exclusion of socioeconomic indica-
tors, including incomes. The reason for this is s­ imple: h
­ uman beings
need to live in harmony with nature, but they also need housing, food,
clothing, and access to culture. Above all, they need justice. ­Unless
we are capable of mea­sur­ing incomes, the in­equality of their distri-
bution, and their development over time, it is hard to see how we could
develop norms of justice that would allow us to concentrate our ef-
forts on the wealthiest ­people and rethink the organ­ization of the
global economic system in a way acceptable to the humblest. Without
resolute action seeking to drastically compress socioeconomic in-
equalities, t­ here is no solution to the environmental and climatic
crisis.7 To make pro­gress in this direction, we must combine dif­fer­ent
indicators—­environmental and economic, for example—­a nd in­de­
pen­dently set targets for carbon emissions or biodiversity while at
the same time formulating objectives that include the reduction of in-
equalities in income and the distribution of fiscal and social deduc-
tions and public expenditures. In this way we may compare dif­fer­ent
sets of public policies that make it pos­si­ble to achieve our environ-
mental objectives.

7. L. Chancel, Unsustainable Inequalities: Social Justice and the Environment (Cam-

bridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2020). Compare E. Laurent, Sortir de la crois-
sance: mode d’emploi (Paris: Les liens qui libèrent, 2019).
 The Movement ­toward Equality 27

In addition, though it is generally preferable to concern ourselves

with the distribution of income among social classes and not only
with the average income, in certain contexts it is indispensable to re-
sort to macroeconomic aggregates such as the national income (or if
necessary, the GDP), for example to express the weight of the dif­fer­ent
categories of taxes or the size of the bud­gets allocated for education,
health care, or the environment as a percentage of the national income
(or of the GDP). This is the least bad method we have for comparing
in an intelligible way the evolution of ­these sums over time and from
one country to the next. I s­ hall demonstrate this in the following
chapters, when we study, for example, the increasing power and the
fiscal and military capacity of Eu­ro­pean states in the eigh­teenth and
nineteenth centuries, or the development of the welfare state in the
twentieth c­ entury. At first, thinking in terms of a “percentage of na-
tional income,” or reducing all the sums mentioned to the average in-
come or average salary of each period (which amounts to the same
­thing), may seem abstract and irksome to many. But if we do not over-
come this technical obstacle, then we are almost inevitably vulner-
able to manipulations of the data.
For example, established governments (as well as their opposition)
regularly announce investment plans expressed in millions or billions
of euros (or dollars or yuan). Upon examination, it often turns out
that ­these plans extend over ten or twenty years, not a single year. The
annual amount, correctly recalculated, represents in real­ity only a mi-
nuscule fraction of the national income, or ­else the increase envis-
aged is less than the predicted rate of inflation or of growth over the
same period (so that the fabulous investment announced, instead of
increasing, actually diminishes as a proportion of the national in-
come). Ideally, the media would systematically convert t­hese sums
into intelligible scales. But at pre­sent, we are far from this ideal and
must do the work ourselves and demand that the media do it also. The
choice of socioeconomic indicators is eminently po­liti­cal: it concerns
each of us and cannot be left to ­others. If we do not act, we must not
28 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

be surprised if the indicators selected reflect priorities other than the

ones we care about.
Let us restate the point clearly: socioeconomic indicators, like the
historical series presented in this work and all statistics in general, are
nothing more than imperfect, temporary, and fragile constructions.
They do not claim to establish “the” truth of figures or the certainty
of “facts.” Th
­ ere are always several legitimate ways of combining the
materials available to confer a specific social, economic, and histor-
ical intelligibility on the given information. The indicators seek above
all to develop a language enabling us to establish ­orders of magnitude,
and especially to compare in the most sensible way pos­si­ble situations,
historical moments, epochs, and socie­ties that often consider them-
selves to be very distant from one another, but which it may nonethe-
less be useful to correlate in spite of their irreducible specificity and
uniqueness. We cannot be content to say that each statistic is a social
construction: that is, of course, always true, but it is insufficient
­because it amounts to abandoning the field. Used properly, moder-
ately, and critically, the language of socioeconomic indicators is an
indispensable complement to the natu­ral language for fighting intel-
lectual nationalism, escaping the manipulations of economic elites,
and building a new egalitarian horizon.
Fi­nally, it ­will be noted that rather than using a multiplicity of in-
dicators, one alternative solution might consist in synthesizing them
in a single indicator. For example, the ­Human Development Index
(HDI) worked out by the United Nations aggregates data regarding
health care, education, and national income to arrive at a worldwide
classification of countries. The ecologist and economist Tim Jackson
has developed a Global Pro­gress Indicator (GPI) combining, notably,
environmental data with data concerning the national income and the
latter’s distribution.8 ­These studies have the im­mense merit of

8. T. Jackson, Prosperity without Growth: Foundations for the Economy of Tomorrow,

2nd ed. (Abingdon, UK: Routledge, 2017). Compare J. Hickel, Less Is More: How De-
growth W
­ ill Save the World (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2020).
 The Movement ­toward Equality 29

showing how l­ ittle meaning the obsession with the GDP has: to make
deep changes in the classification of countries and developments over
time, it suffices to adopt a more balanced indicator. However, I do not
think the best solution is to replace the GDP by another single indi-
cator (even if it is more balanced). By definition, indicators that seek
to sum up a multidimensional real­ity in a unidimensional index do
so at the cost of a certain opacity. As a general rule, it seems to me
preferable to resort to a multiplicity of indicators bearing explic­itly
and transparently on carbon emissions and their distribution, in-
equalities in income, health care, education, and so on. For the same
reasons of transparency, I advise against the use of synthetic indices
that are supposed to sum up the level of in­equality in a society (like
Gini’s and Theil’s coefficients, which are relatively abstract to inter-
pret). In my view it is more appropriate to use more intuitive notions
such as the proportion of incomes ­going to the poorest 50 ­percent or
to the richest 10 ­percent, the proportion of the emissions caused by
the heaviest 1 ­percent of emitters, and so on, which every­one can easily
understand.9

9. Gini’s coefficients are also available on WID.world, but I suggest using instead the
series broken down by deciles or centiles, on which I w­ ill focus in this work.
 •
2

T H E S L O W D E C O N C E N T R AT I O N

OF POWER AND PROPERTY

We now come to another socioeconomic indicator that ­w ill play an

impor­tant role in our inquiry: property and its distribution. Un-
like income, which represents what one earns over a given period
of time, property refers to every­t hing one owns at a certain point
in time. Like income, property is a social relationship, in the sense
that it acquires its full meaning only within a par­tic­u ­lar society
that is characterized by a set of rules and specific power relations
between social groups. Property is a historically situated notion: it
depends on the way each society defines the legitimate forms of
owner­ ship (land, h­ouses, factories, machines, seas, mountains,
monuments, financial assets, knowledge, slaves, and so on), as well
as the ­legal procedures and practices that structure and delimit
property relations and power relations among the social groups
concerned.

The Evolution of the Concentration of Property

since the Eigh­teenth ­Century
Let us begin by examining the evolution of the concentration of prop-
erty in France since the end of the eigh­teenth ­century, first by com-
paring the share of the richest 1  ­percent with that of the poorest
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 31
Share of each class in total private property
70%

60%

50%

40%
Share of the richest 1% (Paris)
30% Share of the richest 1% (France)
Share of the poorest 50% (Paris)
20%
Share of the poorest 50% (France)
10%

0%
1780 1800 1820 1840 1860 1880 1900 1920 1940 1960 1980 2000 2020

figure 4. ​A ­Limited, Impeded March ­toward Equality: The Concentration of

Property in France, 1780–2020
­ fter a slight diminution during the Revolution, the concentration of property (real,
A
occupational, and financial assets, net of debt) increased in France in the nine-
teenth ­century and ­until World War I before declining steeply following the world
wars and u ­ ntil the 1980s. In all, the share held by the richest 1  ­percent fell from
55 ­percent in 1910 to 24 ­percent in 2020, but this did not much benefit the poorest
50 ­percent, whose share ­rose from 2 ­percent in 1910 to 6 ­percent in 2020. Sources and
series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

50 ­percent (see Figure 4).1 The case of France is particularly in­ter­

est­ing b
­ ecause the French Revolution, having failed to establish a
perfectly egalitarian society (far from it!), has bequeathed to us an in-
comparable vantage point for monitoring wealth, in the form of its
inheritance archives and its sophisticated system for registering prop-
erty and the transmission of it.2 As we ­shall see, in the case of France

1. By definition, the missing share is held by the 49 ­percent of the population that
falls between the poorest 50 ­percent and the richest 1 ­percent. See Figure 6 for a com-
plete breakdown.
2. The results presented ­here are based on a major proj­ect of data collection in the
inheritance archives in Paris and the departments. See in par­t ic­u ­lar T. Piketty, G.
Postel-­Vinay, and J.-­L . Rosenthal, “Wealth Concentration in a Developing Economy:
Paris and France, 1807–1994,” American Economic Review 96, no. 1 (2006): 236–256; and
T. Piketty, G. Postel-­Vinay, and J.-­L . Rosenthal, “Inherited vs. Self-­Made Wealth:
32 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

the changes observed over the long term are, moreover, representa-
tive of ­those seen in other Eu­ro­pean socie­ties for which we have com-
parable (though less systematic) sources, such as, for example, the
United Kingdom and Sweden.
We note first of all that the richest 1 ­percent’s share of the total of
private property (that is, of total wealth of land, buildings, business
assets, and industrial and financial wealth of all kinds, net of debt)
has decreased only very slightly since the Revolution, and that it re-
mained astronomically high throughout the nineteenth ­century and
as late as the beginning of the twentieth c­ entury. Thus, the wealthiest
1 ­percent held around 45 ­percent of total property in France in 1810,
and about 55 ­percent of the total in 1910. In Paris, where considerable
financial and industrial fortunes had accumulated by the end of the
nineteenth c­ entury and during the Belle Époque, the richest 1 ­percent’s
share even exceeded 65 ­percent on the eve of the First World War.
Then, in the course of the twentieth ­century, we observe a very strong
deconcentration of fortunes: in the w ­ hole of France, the richest
1 ­percent’s share fell from 55 ­percent in 1914 to less than 20 ­percent at
the beginning of the 1980s, before beginning a slow increase; in 2020,
that share was nearly 25 ­percent.
The results reproduced in Figure 4 illustrate the general thesis pre-
sented in this book: on the one hand, t­ here is a long-­term movement
­toward equality, and in this case, ­toward a lower concentration of
property and thus of social and economic power; on the other hand,
in­equality nevertheless continues to be very high, even intolerable,
and it is very difficult to be satisfied with such a situation or to claim
that it would be in the interest of the majority.3 Concretely, the richest

Theory and Evidence from a Rentier Society (Paris 1872–1927),” Explorations in Eco-
nomic History 51 (2014): 21–40.
3. This is a classical justification of in­equality, which is found not only in “The Dec-
laration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen,” (1789), Article 1: “Social distinctions
may be based only on considerations of the common good” (https://­w ww​.­elysee​.­f r​/­en​
/­f rench​-­presidency​/­t he​-­declaration​-­of​-­t he​-­rights​-­of​-­man​-­a nd​-­of​-­t he​-­citizen), but also
in John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard Univer-
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 33

1 ­percent’s share of total private property is currently two times smaller

than it was a c­ entury ago, but it still remains on the order of five times
larger than the share held by the poorest 50 ­percent, who ­today own
scarcely more than 5 ­percent of the total (despite the fact that they are
by definition fifty times more numerous than the richest 1 ­percent).
To be sure, in the nineteenth c­ entury and at the beginning of the
twentieth c­ entury, the share of the poorest 50  ­percent was barely
2 ­percent: thus a certain pro­gress was made in a ­century, but it was
infinitesimal. In real­ity, the deconcentration of property was made al-
most exclusively to the benefit of social groups situated between the
richest 1 ­percent and the poorest 50 ­percent, but it was of very l­ittle
benefit to the latter, who virtually never owned anything.

Property and Power: A Bundle of Rights

Before ­going further, several points must be clarified. First, it is nec-
essary to emphasize the fact that this way of quantifying the evolu-
tion of the monetary concentration of property, as useful and re-
vealing as it may be, allows us to analyze only part of the profound
transformations involved. In real­ity, it is the very conditions of the
exercise of the right to property that have been redefined since the end
of the eigh­teenth ­century. But the varying monetary valuations of the
dif­fer­ent goods, such as real estate and stock prices, used to evaluate
wealth and its distribution provide only an imperfect mea­sure of
property in terms of power and opportunity, and more generally the
social value of goods for the multiple social actors concerned. Gener-
ally speaking, property should be conceived not as an absolute, atem-
poral right, but rather as a set of rights peculiar to each sociohistor-
ical context, a kind of “bundle of rights” making it pos­si­ble to
characterize the scope of the powers and capacities at the disposal of

sity Press, 1971). It is potentially acceptable, provided it is based on a specific historical

analy­sis and not used randomly to justify any level of in­equality, without even trying to
put it in perspective or to evaluate the extent to which it is truly based on considerations
of the common good.
34 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

the vari­ous actors and stakeholders involved in this relation, w ­ hether

they own property or not, collect a salary or not, or are members of
local collectives or ­family groups.4
On the eve of the French Revolution, the aristocratic class, which
at that time represented less than 1 ­percent of the population but more
than 50 ­percent of the large private property o ­ wners, also had sub-
stantial fiscal, po­liti­cal, and jurisdictional privileges, so that its power
(compared with bourgeois property o ­ wners) was not l­imited to the
monetary value of its goods. The Revolution established equality be-
fore the law for all property o ­ wners, while at the same time radical-
izing their right to dominate p ­ eople who did not own property
(without any social duty or counterpart), and in par­tic­u­lar the right
of the white male property owner. The French Civil Code of 1804
­adopted an absolutist definition of property that is still in force in
France.5 Considered as a ­whole, however, the ­legal system has changed
since then. A married w ­ oman, whose ­legal status was long inferior to
that of her husband—­for example, when she wanted to open a bank
account, sell property, or sign a l­abor contract—­has had equivalent
formal rights since the 1960s and 1970s. Salaried employees and
renters, ­whether men or ­women, now have rights incommensurate
with ­those of the past. In the nineteenth ­century, an employer could
dismiss an employee or change his working conditions or remunera-
tion at ­will, or almost, just as a landlord could evict his renter or double
his rent without mercy or prior notice. Th ­ ings are dif­fer­ent in t­ hese

4. This approach to property in terms of a “bundle of rights” has been devel-

oped notably by Elinor Ostrom with regard to dif­fer­ent ways of managing “the com-
mons” (exhaustible natu­r al resources such as pastures, forests, rivers, ponds, game,
and fish) throughout history, but we w ­ ill see that the princi­ple is more generally
applicable.
5. “Owner­ship is the right to enjoy and dispose of t­ hings in the most absolute
manner, provided they are not used in a way prohibited by statutes or regulations,”
Code civil, art 544, D. Gruning, A. R. Levasseur, J. R. Trahan, and E. Roy, “Traduction
du Code Civil Français en Anglais,” version bilingue, 2015, https://­halshs​.­a rchives​
-­ouvertes​.­f r​/­halshs​-­01385107​/­document. On the prob­lems raised by this definition and
the alternatives a­ dopted elsewhere, see below, Chapter 5.
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 35

early de­cades of the twenty-­first ­century; the multiple rules and reg-
ulations are far from being purely theoretical, even if the rights of em-
ployees, like ­those of renters, remain ­limited and could be made far
more extensive and emancipatory.
Examples illustrating the transformations of property law are
many. ­Until 1848, when slavery was abolished in the French islands
where it still existed, property recorded in inheritance archives in-
cluded plantations and the monetary value of the enslaved p ­ eople
who labored t­ here. ­Until the early 1960s, the wealth studied included
assets held in the colonies, assets that had been accumulated in the
framework of profoundly asymmetrical juridical relationships and re-
lations of extreme po­liti­cal and military domination. We w ­ ill return
to ­these vari­ous developments all through this book, and we s­ hall see
that the march t­ oward equality over the past two centuries has taken
the form of a profound re-­equilibration of the law in f­avor of ­those
who are not property ­owners. This transformation of property law,
chiefly in the course of the second half of the nineteenth c­ entury and
all through the twentieth c­ entury, has been a central stake in social
and po­liti­cal strug­gles. It has contributed not only to greater socio-
economic equality, but also to greater prosperity, thanks to every­one’s
increased participation in social and economic life. I w ­ ill also defend
the idea that this historical movement might very well continue in the
twenty-­first ­century—if new strug­gles and historical ruptures allow
us to advance in that direction. At this stage, let us simply note that
property ­owners’ rights ­were on the ­whole far more absolute at the
beginning of the nineteenth ­century than they are ­today. From that
point of view, we can say that the deconcentration of property and
of the power conferred by property has been even greater than what
the strictly monetary view expressed in Figure 4 seems to indicate.
To put it in another way, the poorest 50 ­percent are perhaps still as
poor, in the sense that their share of total property has scarcely risen
since the nineteenth ­century, but they are a ­little less at the mercy of
property ­owners (employers or landlords, husbands or colonists) than
they used to be.
36 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Owning the Means of Production, Housing, the

State, and the Rest of the World
To analyze the power relations at stake in property relations, and also
to better understand the evolution of the monetary distribution of
property, it is indispensable to distinguish the dif­fer­ent categories of
goods that can be owned. If we set aside the owner­ship of other ­human
beings through slavery, to which we s­ hall return, we can distinguish
four main categories of possession: the owner­ship of the means of pro-
duction, housing, the state, and the rest of the world. The means of
production include agricultural land and equipment, factories and
machinery, offices and computers, shops and restaurants, salary ad-
vances and working capital, and more generally all the goods neces-
sary to produce other goods and ser­vices. Th ­ ese means of production
can be held directly by the farmer or business owner, or through
stocks, bonds, shares in corporations or other financial securities. Or
they can be held indirectly through deposits and bank accounts (in
which case it is the banks or financial intermediaries that exercise
power over the enterprises in which they decide to invest on the basis
of savers’ deposits and the l­egal regulations in force).
In the traditional Marxist approach, only owner­ship of the means
of production truly pertains to cap­i­tal­ist property: it is what leads to
the extraction of a profit by exploiting the l­abor force, and it is this
profit that feeds in turn the accumulation of capital. Without seeking
to deny the specificity of the exceedingly hierarchized social relations
that are formed in this framework, it seems impor­tant to emphasize
the fact that all property relations imply specific power relations that
must be analyzed as such, no ­matter what the forms of owner­ship in
question may be.6 In par­tic­u­lar, the owner­ship of housing involves

6. An exception, perhaps, can be made for the possession of works of art and pre-
cious objects, but t­ hese represent only a tiny fraction of total private property (between
1 ­percent and 2 ­percent, depending on the period and the country). See T. Piketty, Cap-
ital in the Twenty-­First C
­ entury (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University
Press, 2014), 179–180.
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 37

strategies of extraction and relations of power between landlords and

renters that are occasionally extremely violent and intrusive, even if
they have been tamed and restricted (in part) over time. The question
of access to housing and of the right to have a home involves what is
most private in each of us. This is the sphere of f­ amily life and “social
reproduction,” in the sense used by authors of feminist critiques. ­These
authors rightly stress the fact that this sphere, which is essential for
the overall functioning of the economic system (including, of course,
the reproduction of the l­abor force and the accumulation of capital)
and the deep inequalities and relations of domination that are at play
in it, has often been neglected by classical Marxist analyses, to the
benefit of the so-­called “productive” sphere alone.7 In real­ity, it is in-
dispensable to look into both the owner­ship of the means of produc-
tion and the owner­ship of housing if we want to have an overarching
view of the socioeconomic system and the power relations implied by
property relations. At the same time, when a finer-­grained analy­sis
of the multiple institutional mechanisms and social pro­cesses in-
volved is undertaken, we must of course distinguish the dif­fer­ent
ways of holding property.
On the ­whole, in terms of monetary value, housing generally rep-
resents a considerable share of private property, often about half,
whereas the means of production (as mea­sured by the monetary value
of enterprises) represents approximately the other half. For example,
in France in the early 2020s, total private property amounts to about
220,000 euros per adult (or the equivalent of six years of average in-
come), including about 110,000 euros in the form of housing (net of
debt) and 110,000 euros in that of business and financial assets.8
However, it must be emphasized that this average conceals im­mense

7. See, for example, T. Bhattacharya, Social Reproduction Theory: Remapping Class,

Recentering Oppression (London: Pluto Press, 2017). See also C. Arruza, T. Bhat-
tacharya, and N. Fraser, Feminism for the 99%: A Manifesto (London: Verso, 2019).
8. At the beginning of 2020, on the eve of the Covid-19 pandemic, the national in-
come in France was about 2,000 billion euros (a level that according to INSEE was ex-
pected to be reached again in 2022), or around 37,000 euros (3,100 euros per month) on
38 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

100%
90%
Financial assets (stocks,
80% bonds, etc., excluding
70% cash and bank deposits)
Cash,
60% bank deposits Professional
50% assets (self-
employed)
40% Real estate (housing),
30% net of debt

20%
10%
2,450 € 23,000 € 111,000 € 198,000 € 497,000 € 2,368,000 € 15,650,000 €
0%

.9

0
P9 99.5
20

30

40

50

60

70

80

90

95

P9 99
0

10
–1

99
0–

0–
0–

0–

0–

0–

0–

0–

0–

5–

9–
P0

5–
9–
P1

P3
P2

P4

P5

P6

P9

P9
P7

P8

9.
9.

P9
figure 5. ​The Composition of Property in France, 2020
In France in 2020 (as in all countries for which such data are available), small for-
tunes are composed principally of cash and bank deposits, middle-­sized fortunes of
real estate, and large fortunes of financial assets (especially stocks).
Note: The distribution indicated h ­ ere is that of wealth per adult. The wealth of
­couples is divided by two. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

disparities, in terms of both the amount and the composition of

wealth (see Figure 5).
For the poorest 20 or 30 ­percent, the very notion of property is rela-
tively abstract: some have only debts, whereas ­others have at best a
few thousand euros—­one or two months of salary—in liquid assets
in a bank or savings account. Then the amounts gradually rise but re-
main very modest: the average fortune held by the poorest 50 ­percent
is scarcely 20,000 euros (about one-­tenth of the average wealth of the
­whole of the population, amounting to 5 ­percent of total wealth). The
median fortune, that is, wealth above which half the population is
situated, is about 100,000 euros, or around half the average. If we

average for each of some 53 million adults, whereas total private wealth (net of debt) was
approaching 12,000 billion euros, or approximately 220,000 euros per adult.
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 39

examine the next 40 ­percent, that is, the p ­ eople falling between the
poorest 50 ­percent and the richest 10 ­percent, whose fortunes range
approximately from 100,000 to 400,000 euros, we see that their wealth
is held mainly in housing. Among the richest 10 ­percent, beyond
400,000 euros, property becomes increasingly diversified: business
and especially financial assets (notably stocks) play a growing role
in the hierarchy of fortunes. ­These assets become preponderant
among the richest 1 ­percent (more than 1.8 million euros). It ­will be
noted that the latter own, on average, about 5 million euros, or around
twenty-­five times the average fortune, which explains why their share
is nearly 25 ­percent of total wealth. That also shows us what a society
would look like, quantitatively, if the richest 1  ­percent owned 50 or
70 ­percent of total property, as was the case in the past.
Several points must be clarified. We can define the disadvantaged
classes as the poorest 50  ­percent, the ­middle classes as the next
40 ­percent, and the upper classes as the richest 10 ­percent. Within the
latter, which are very heterogeneous, we can distinguish the wealthy
classes (the least rich 9 ­percent) and the dominant classes (the richest
1 ­percent). In sum, the disadvantaged classes have very l­ittle in sav-
ings; the assets of the m
­ iddle class are centered on housing; the wealthy
classes distribute their assets between housing, business assets, and
financial assets; the dominant classes concentrate on owner­ship of the
means of production (business assets and especially stocks and finan-
cial securities). Terms based on classes are meaningful if they are not
reified or rigidified. In practice, class identities are always flexible
and multidimensional. They can never be reduced to the crossing of
some sort of monetary threshold. Social class depends not only on the
owner­ship of the means of production and housing, and on the extent
of that owner­ship, but also on level of income, education, occupation,
the sector of activity, age and gender, regional or foreign origin, and
sometimes on ethno-­religious identity, in accord with modalities that
are flexible and changeable, depending on sociohistorical contexts.
We must add that financial assets, even if they correspond mainly
to the owner­ship of enterprises and the means of production, through
40 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

stocks, bonds, corporate shares, and other financial securities, also

represent in part the owner­ship of state securities, domestic and for-
eign. The possession of public bonds is certainly not equivalent to
“owning the state,” in the sense in which one might own an enterprise.
Moreover, in history t­ here are many other, more direct ways to own
the state, or at least to participate in and control it, and to co-­produce
it more closely than ordinary citizens do, ­whether through the poll
tax, which was implemented in the nineteenth c­ entury and up to the
beginning of the twentieth c­ entury in many countries, or through
the intermediary of systems of private financing for po­liti­cal parties,
the media, and think tanks that operated almost everywhere in the
early twenty-­first ­century. In ­every period the owner­ship of the public
debt represents an additional way of owning the state, in the sense, for
example, that the state can end up selling what it owns (buildings,
roads, airports, or public enterprises) in order to repay its debts. The
state can also be reduced to transforming its historical monuments
into advertising spaces or semiprivate properties (sometimes to the
benefit of actors who have succeeded in convincing the state that they
should not be made to pay taxes), or more generally to becoming de-
pendent on its creditors and financial markets, or subjecting itself to
the influence of policies and other approved “reforms.” Property is al-
ways a relationship of power, and not only when it is a question of
owning the means of production. In the eigh­teenth c­ entury, the question
of the public debt—­the power it confers and the dif­fer­ent modalities
of its accumulation, its repayment, or its cancellation—­played a major
role in triggering the French Revolution, as well as in the movement
­toward equality and the desacralization of property in the twentieth
­century. It w ­ ill surely continue to play a central role in the twenty-­first
­century. We ­will return to this subject at length.
­After the means of production, housing, and the state, the other
major form of property is the owner­ship of the rest of the world, that
is, assets held in foreign countries. Th
­ ese may include the Suez Canal,
rubber plantations in Southeast Asia, and Rus­sian or Argentine debt
securities. In practice, every­thing in the rest of the world can be
owned: the means of production, the state, and sometimes housing.
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 41

This form of transnational owner­ship nonetheless puts into play in-

stitutional mechanisms and specific relations of domination on the
juridical-­political and sometimes military levels that are worth ex-
amining in themselves. In the case of France in 2020, the assets held
in the rest of the world by French proprietors happen to be almost
exactly equal to the assets held in France by property ­owners in the
rest of the world, so that the “net foreign assets” are virtually nil
(which does not mean, however, that ­these enormous transborder
owner­ships on both sides are without importance—on the contrary).
Conversely, in the colonial period, net foreign assets w ­ ere substan-
tial and occupied a central place in the overall structure of property
and inequalities between social classes, on national and international
levels. ­Here, too, in subsequent chapters we w
­ ill return at length to
the crucial role played by foreign and colonial assets, both their dis-
appearance in the movement ­toward equality in the course of the
twentieth ­century and the role such transnational possessions may
play in the f­ uture.

The Difficult Emergence of a Patrimonial

­Middle Class
Let us return to the evolution of the distribution of property since the
end of the eigh­teenth c­ entury. We have already noted that the share
held by the richest 1 ­percent was divided by more than two at the be-
ginnings of the twentieth and the twenty-­first centuries, even though
it remained on the order of five times higher than the share held by
the poorest 50 ­percent (see Figure 4). If we now examine the develop-
ment of the distribution as a ­whole, we see that the reduction of in-
equalities took place mainly to the benefit of what may be called the
patrimonial ­middle class, that is, the 40 ­percent between the poorest
50 ­percent and the richest 10 ­percent (see Figure 6).
Concretely, we observe first that the share of the richest 10 ­percent
in total private property was about 85 ­percent at the beginning of the
twentieth c­ entury and on the eve of World War I, before gradually
 42 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Share of each class in total private property

100%
90%
80%
70%
60% Share of the richest 10%

50% Share of the middle 40%

40% Share of the poorest 50%

30%
20%
10%
0%
1780 1800 1820 1840 1860 1880 1900 1920 1940 1960 1980 2000 2020

figure 6. ​The Distribution of Property in France, 1780–2020: The Difficult

Emergence of a Patrimonial ­Middle Class
The share of the richest 10 ­percent in total private property (real, occupational, and
financial assets net of debt) was between 80 and 90 ­percent in France between 1780
and 1910. The deconcentration of wealth began following World War I and ceased
in the early 1980s. It benefited primarily the patrimonial m­ iddle classes (the m
­ iddle
40  ­percent), defined h­ ere as the group between the disadvantaged classes (the
poorest 50 ­percent) and the well-­to-do (the richest 10 ­percent). Sources and series:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

declining u­ ntil it was barely 50 ­percent at the beginning of the 1980s,

and then climbing back to a l­ittle over 55 ­percent in 2020. It w ­ ill be
noted that ­t hese variations correspond almost exactly to ­t hose ob-
served at the level of the richest 1 ­percent’s share (see Figure 4). In
other words, it was the dominant classes (the richest 1 ­percent) who
saw their relative position collapse, whereas the share of the wealthy
classes (the next 9 ­percent) remained almost stable throughout the
twentieth c­ entury (around 30 ­percent of total wealth). Conversely, the
share of the 40 ­percent between the poorest 50 ­percent and the richest
10 ­percent underwent spectacular growth: at the beginning of the
twentieth ­century, this share was barely 13 ­percent of total wealth,
which then tripled between 1914 and 1980, reaching almost 40 ­percent
in the early 1980s and subsequently stabilizing at that level (though
with a slight decline).
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 43

Let us repeat clearly: the concentration of property remains ex-

tremely high, and the scope of this march t­ oward equality must not
be overestimated. At the beginning of the 2020s, the richest 10 ­percent
owned more than 55  ­percent of every­thing that can be owned in
France (and the richest 1 ­percent own almost 25 ­percent), whereas the
poorest 50 ­percent own next to nothing (hardly 5 ­percent of the total).
If we focus on the owner­ship of the means of production, which de-
termines the distribution of economic power and the structure of hi-
erarchical relations in workplaces, the concentration is still higher
(in par­tic­u­lar at the level of the 0.1 ­percent or of the 0.01 ­percent of
the largest fortunes, a tiny group that has experienced a very clear up-
turn over recent de­cades).9 We also note that the share of total
wealth held by the poorest 50 ­percent, which has always been minus-
cule, has in addition declined substantially since the 1980s (a clearer
decline than that of the next 40 ­percent). Fi­nally, we must emphasize
that this extreme concentration of property is not a bias connected
with the profile of wealth by age: it is found in ­every age group, from
young to old.10
It nonetheless remains that the emergence of a patrimonial m ­ iddle
class constitutes a major transformation on the social, economic, and

9. The richest 1 ­percent includes around 500,000 persons (out of about 50 million
adults). According to the magazine Challenges, the 500 largest fortunes in France alone
(approximately 0.001 ­percent of the population) increased from 200 billion euros in 2010
(10 ­percent of the GDP) to 710 billion in 2020 (30 ­percent of the GDP), that is, from
approximately 2 ­percent to 6 ­percent of total wealth.
10. The concentration is especially strong among t­ hose between twenty and thirty-­
nine years old, with 62 ­percent of total wealth held by the richest 10 ­percent within that
age class in 2018 (taking into account the size of the inheritance among the rare prop-
erty ­owners of that age), as compared with 54 ­percent among ­t hose between forty and
fifty-­nine years old, 51 ­percent among ­t hose sixty years and older, and 55 ­percent on av-
erage for the w­ hole of the population. Within each age group, the poorest 50 ­percent
own next to nothing (scarcely 5–10 ­percent of total wealth in ­every case). See T. Piketty,
Capital and Ideology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press,
2020), 554–557, fig. S11.18. For detailed results concerning the profiles and composition
by age, see B. Garbinti, J. Goupille-­Lebret, and T. Piketty, “Accounting for Wealth In­
equality Dynamics: Methods and Estimates,” 2018, WID.world.
44 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

po­liti­cal levels. Simplifying, we can say that u­ ntil the beginning of the
twentieth c­ entury, ­there was no genuine m ­ iddle class, in the sense that
the m ­ iddle 40 ­percent ­were almost as poor (in terms of their share in
total property owner­ship) as the poorest 50 ­percent. Conversely, at the
end of the twentieth ­century and the beginning of the twenty-­fi rst
­century, the patrimonial ­middle class was made up of persons who
­were certainly not im­mensely rich on the individual level but ­were far
from being completely poor (they owned, roughly speaking, between
100,000 and 400,000 euros per adult). Collectively, they owned a non-­
negligible share of total wealth: around 40 ­percent,11 or almost twice
that of the richest 1 ­percent (24 ­percent of the total), whereas on the
eve of World War I they held between three and four times less
(13 ­percent as compared with 55 ­percent). In sum, the ­middle classes
­today are collectively twice as rich as the dominant classes, whereas
a ­century ago they w ­ ere three times poorer. The concentration of
property never ceased to be extreme, but within this general frame-
work we nonetheless see a clear inflection. Th ­ ese two assertions may
seem contradictory, but they are both true. This complexity of the
world is part of our historical heritage.
The reduction of inequalities is partly the consequence of wars and
economic crises, but it also derives, especially, from new social and
fiscal policies implemented since the end of the nineteenth c­ entury
and in the course of the twentieth ­century: the increased power of the
welfare state, the establishment of a certain equality of access to fun-
damental goods such as education and health care, and the develop-
ment of a strongly progressive tax on high income and wealth. Along
with the profound changes in the l­egal system and property rights
already mentioned, it was, above all, t­hese radical institutional
transformations, borne by intense social and po­liti­cal strug­gles, that
have made greater equality pos­si­ble. Is it desirable to continue in this

11. The fact that this social group, constituting 40 ­percent of the population, owned
about 40 ­percent of total wealth corresponds to the fact that average wealth within this
group is approximately equal to the average wealth of the population as a w ­ hole (about
220,000 euros per adult in 2020).
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 45

direction, and if so, how should we proceed? I ­shall defend the idea
that this (­limited) march t­oward equality has been beneficial from
­every point of view, including, of course, productive efficiency and
collective prosperity, b ­ ecause it has allowed all citizens to participate
more fully in social and economic life. The ability of the dominant
classes to spend and invest has certainly been severely reduced since the
nineteenth c­ entury, since their share of total wealth has collapsed,
but that has been more than compensated for by the rise in the power
of the m
­ iddle classes and, to a lesser extent, that of the disadvantaged
classes. The idea that we have to be satisfied with current levels of in­
equality, or that it would be healthy for the poorest 50 ­percent to own
hardly 5 ­percent of the total wealth, is not founded on any solid em-
pirical basis. It is both desirable and pos­si­ble to further the prospects
of a welfare state and progressive taxes.

The Long March ­toward a Greater

Equality of Income
To complete this initial survey, it is also useful to familiarize ourselves
with the ­orders of magnitude that characterize the long-­term evolu-
tion of the distribution of income. Generally speaking, the in­equality
of income is always smaller than the in­equality of property. Let us re-
call that income includes income from work (wages and salary, other
income from work, retirement pensions, unemployment benefits) and
income from capital (profits, dividends, interest, capital gains, and so
on). Income from capital usually represents between a quarter and a
third of total income, sometimes almost half, depending on power re-
lations between employees and employers and on the l­ egal and social
system in force (rent control, corporate law, ­labor law, and so on), and
notably the role given to ­labor ­u nions and the latter’s negotiating
power.12 By construction, the concentration of income from capital is

12. In the United Kingdom, as in France, the share of income from capital reached
40–45 ­percent of national income in the nineteenth ­century before diminishing at the
end of the c­ entury and oscillating between 25 and 35 ­percent over the course of the
 46 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

60%
Share of each class in total income

55%
50%
45%
40%
35%
30% Share of the richest 10%
25% Share of the middle 40%
20% Share of the poorest 50%
15%
10%
5%
0%
1800 1820 1840 1860 1880 1900 1920 1940 1960 1980 2000 2020

figure 7. ​The Distribution of Income in France, 1800–2020: The Beginning of a

Long-­Term Movement ­toward Equality?
The share of the richest 10 ­percent in total income, including income from unsala-
ried activity, retirement pensions, and unemployment insurance, and income from
capital, including profits, dividends, interest, rents, capital gains, and so on, was
about 50 ­percent in France between 1800 and 1910. The deconcentration of income
began following the two world wars and benefited both the disadvantaged classes
(the poorest 50 ­percent) and the m
­ iddle classes (the m
­ iddle 40 ­percent), to the detri-
ment of the well-­to-do (the richest 10 ­percent). Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/
equality

just as extreme as the concentration of the owner­ship of capital.13 The

in­equality of income from work, though considerable, is in compar-
ison clearly less pronounced, with impor­tant variations depending,

twentieth c­ entury. See Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-­First ­Century, 200–201, figs. 6.1
and 6.2. Currently, the share of capital may reach 40–50 ­percent of national income (or
even more than 50 ­percent) in some poor and emerging countries where the negotiating
power of employees and informal workers vis-­à-­v is international investors and o ­ wners
of capital is particularly weak. See WID.world; and “The Global L ­ abour Income Share
and Distribution,” International L ­ abour Organ­ization, July 2019.
13. Or even more extreme, b­ ecause in practice profit from capital increases strongly
with the amount held: small bank deposits yield at best a few interest payments that are
not comparable with income from large stock portfolios. Over the long term t­ hese bring
in more than the m ­ iddle classes’ profit from real estate. Again, this depends on multiple
institutions and specific power relationships. See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 427,
fig. 10.6.
 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 47

once again, on the parties’ negotiating power and on numerous ­legal

and social rules: the existence of a minimum wage; salary scales;
mechanisms favoring equal access to training, qualifications, and oc-
cupations; and the strug­gle against sexism and discrimination. The
total in­equality of income falls between income from capital and in-
come from work, and is generally closer to the latter, given the pre-
ponderant weight of income from l­abor.14
Concretely, if we examine the share of total income ­going to the
richest 10 ­percent of the income distribution, we see that in France at
the beginning of the twentieth c­entury it was situated around
50–55 ­percent before declining to less than 35 ­percent between 1914
and 1945, and it has oscillated between 30 and 38 ­percent since that
date (see Figure 7). The share of total income ­going to t­ hose in the cat-
egory of the lowest 50 ­percent of income was about 12 to 13 ­percent at
the beginning of the twentieth ­century, before reaching 20 ­percent in
1945 and then oscillating between 18 and 23 ­percent since. ­After 1945,
the share g­ oing to the m ­ iddle 40 ­percent has even risen above that
­going to the richest 10 ­percent. That is not extraordinary in itself, given
that the first group is numerically four times more numerous than
the second. In fact, in­equality of income remains very strong in France
at the beginning of the twenty-­first ­century: the differences from the
average income range from one to eight between the poorest 50 ­percent
and the richest 10 ­percent, from one to twenty between the poorest
50 ­percent and the richest 1 ­percent, and from one to seventy between
the poorest 50 ­percent and the richest 0.1 ­percent. Nonetheless, ­these
­orders of magnitude characterizing the in­equality of income are con-
siderably smaller than ­those observed for in­equality of property.
Above all, the general movement t­ oward equality is more impressive
in the first case than in the second (see Figure 6). ­These developments
in France can be found in most Eu­ro­pean countries and to a lesser
degree in the United States. Th
­ ere, however, the rise in in­equality since
1980 has been much clearer.

14. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 427–428, figs. 10.6, 10.7.

 •
3

T H E H E R I TA G E O F S L AV E R Y

AND COLONIALISM

How did Eu­rope and the United States attain such a dominant posi-
tion on the global level, at least ­until recently? Although no single ex-
planation exists, we ­shall see that slavery and colonialism played a
central role in the Western world’s acquisition of wealth. ­Today, the
distribution of wealth among countries, as well as within them, is still
deeply marked by this heritage. Therefore, it is particularly impor­tant
to examine t­ hese historical episodes closely.

The Industrial Revolution, Colonialism, and Ecol­ogy

All the research at our disposal demonstrates that the development
of Western industrial capitalism is closely linked to the international
division of ­labor, the unrestrained exploitation of natu­ral resources,
and the military and colonial domination that developed gradually
between the Eu­ro­pean powers and the rest of the planet starting in
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and accelerating during the eigh­
teenth and nineteenth centuries. More generally, it is impossible to
write a history of equality and in­equality at the global level without
first assessing the importance of this colonial heritage. Eu­ro­pean ex-
pansion began around 1450–1500, with the first Portuguese trading
posts on the coast of Africa, Vasco da Gama’s voyage to India, and
Columbus’s expedition to Amer­i­ca. It ended in the 1960s, if we include
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 49

brutal wars of independence (such as in Indochina or Algeria), even

in the 1990s if we include the case of South African apartheid. Over
the long term, the real­ity is that we have just emerged from the colo-
nial experiment. It would be naïve to imagine that its effects can be
erased in a few de­cades. ­Those who are born t­ oday are not individu-
ally responsible for this burdensome heritage, but we are all respon-
sible for the way in which we choose or fail to take it into account in
analyzing the world economic system, its injustices, and the need
for change.
Ken Pomeranz’s work on the “­great divergence” between Eu­rope
and Asia, published in 2000, has emphasized the fact that without the
establishment of a system of supply and of the mobilization of the
­labor force on the planetary scale, Western industrial development
would soon have collided with a huge ecological constraint.1 In par­
tic­u­lar, he shows the extent to which the Industrial Revolution, be-
ginning in the United Kingdom at the end of the eigh­teenth c­ entury
and spreading throughout Eu­rope over the course of the nineteenth
­century, was fueled by the large-­scale extraction of raw materials (es-
pecially cotton) and of energy sources (particularly wood) from the
rest of the world, all within the framework of a coercive and colonialist
orga­nizational scheme.
For Pomeranz, the central fact is that around 1750–1800, the most
advanced regions of China and Japan ­were in a state of development
comparable to the corresponding regions of Western Eu­rope. In
par­t ic­u ­lar, we observe in ­t hese dif­fer­ent cases quite similar kinds
of socioeconomic structures founded not only on sustained demo-
graphic and agricultural growth (made pos­si­ble by improved farming
techniques and a substantial increase in cultivated land, achieved
by clearing and deforestation), but also on comparable pro­cesses
of proto-­industrialization and the accumulation of capital, espe-
cially in the key sector of the textile industry. In Pomeranz’s analy­sis,

1. K. Pomeranz, The ­Great Divergence: China, Eu­rope and the Making of the Modern
World Economy (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2000).
50 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

two essential ele­ments led to diverging trajectories starting in the

second half of the eigh­teenth c­ entury. First of all, the most striking
constraint connected with Eu­ro­pean deforestation—­lack of wood—­
combined with the presence of ideally situated deposits of coal, par-
ticularly in ­England, rapidly led to the use of forms of energy other
than wood, and to the early development of the corresponding
technologies. Second, and especially, the fiscal and military abilities
of the Eu­ro­pean states, emerging from their past rivalries largely
strengthened by the technological and financial innovations proceeding
from competition among states, allowed them to or­ga­nize an interna-
tional division of l­abor and supply that was particularly profitable.
Concerning deforestation, Pomeranz stresses the fact that by the
end of the eigh­teenth c­ entury, Eu­rope had spent nearly all its avail-
able resources. In the United Kingdom as in France, in Denmark as
in Prus­sia, in Italy as in Spain, forests had dis­appeared at a rapid rate
in the course of the preceding centuries, decreasing from around 30
to 40 ­percent of the surface area around the year 1500 to scarcely more
than 10 ­percent in 1800 (16 ­percent in France, 4 ­percent in Denmark).
Initially, trading in wood with regions of eastern and northern Eu­
rope that w ­ ere still forested made it pos­si­ble to compensate in part
for t­ hese losses, but very soon that was no longer sufficient. We also
see a gradual deforestation in China between 1500 and 1800, but it is
less marked, in part ­because of a greater po­liti­cal and commercial in-
tegration between the most advanced regions and the wooded re-
gions of the interior.
In the case of Eu­rope, the “discovery” of Amer­i­ca, the triangular
trade with Africa, and the exchanges with Asia overcame the con-
straints. The exploitation of land in North Amer­i­ca, the West Indies,
and South Amer­i­ca, to which the ­labor force from Africa had been
transported, made it pos­si­ble to produce raw materials (in the form
of wood, cotton, and sugar) that ­were used to supply profits for the
colonists and for the textile factories that w
­ ere in full development be-
tween 1750 and 1800. Military control of the most distant sea lanes
also made it pos­si­ble to develop large-­scale complementarities. Thus,
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 51

food for the slaves of the West Indies and the southern United States
was financed by British exports of textiles and manufactured goods
to North Amer­i­ca, which w ­ ere themselves made pos­si­ble by the wood
and cotton coming from the plantations. Let us add that in the eigh­
teenth ­century, a third of the textiles used to clothe slaves came from
India, and that ­these imports from Asia (textiles, silks, tea, porcelain,
and so on) ­were paid for in large part by the money that had been
coming from Amer­i­ca since the sixteenth c­ entury. Around 1830, im-
ports of wood, cotton, and sugar received by ­England from the plan-
tations corresponded, according to Pomeranz’s calculations, to the
exploitation of more than 10 million hectares of arable land, or be-
tween one-­and-­a-­half and two times the total arable land in the United
Kingdom.2 Had their colonies not allowed Eu­ro­pean countries to
transcend their territorial limits, it would have been necessary to find
­these sources of supply elsewhere. It is difficult but not impossible to
imagine historical and technological scenarios in which an autarkic
Eu­rope would have achieved the same industrial prosperity: for ex-
ample, fertile cotton plantations maintained by En­glish peasants from
Lancashire, or trees growing to the skies near Manchester. In any case,
that would be a truly dif­fer­ent story, the story of another world with
­little relation to ours.

2. Pomeranz, The ­Great Divergence, 211–230, 264–297, 307–312. Th

­ ese imports of
wood continued to play an outsized role much ­later than is sometimes thought. Con-
trary to what the optimistic notion of an “energy transition” tends to suggest, in history
we witness an increase in sources of energy (wood, coal, petroleum) and not a substi-
tution. Around 1900, France imported the equivalent of half of its national produc-
tion of wood (which the country burned on top of its own production), and the United
Kingdom burned the equivalent of more than two years of the French production (its
own production being long since largely exhausted). The imports came from northern
Eu­rope (Rus­sia, Sweden, Finland) and North Amer­i­c a, and also from Africa, Latin
Amer­i­ca, and Asia. See J.-­B. Fressoz, “Pour une histoire des symbioses énergétiques et
matérielles,” Responsabilité et environnement, Annales des Mines, 101, no. 1 (2021): 7–11.
On the intensity of deforestation in Eu­rope and North Amer­i­ca in the eigh­teenth and
nineteenth centuries, compare L. Chancel, “Global Carbon In­equality in the Long-
­Run,” 2021, WID.world.
52 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

At the Origins of the ­Great Divergence:

Eu­ro­pean Military Domination
As Pomeranz shows, it is striking to note the extent to which the mil-
itary institutions and strategies that led Eu­rope to success in the
eigh­teenth and nineteenth centuries had l­ ittle to do with the virtuous
institutions recommended by Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations (1776).
In this book, a foundational text for economic liberalism, Smith ad-
vised governments to adopt low taxes and balanced bud­gets (with
­little or no public debt), to show absolute re­spect for property rights,
and to develop markets for ­labor and goods that ­were as unified and
competitive as pos­si­ble. But from all ­these points of view, the institu-
tions in force in China in the eigh­teenth c­ entury w ­ ere much more in
accord with Smith’s ideas than ­those applied in the United Kingdom.
In par­tic­u­lar, the markets w ­ ere more strongly unified in China. The
grain market in China operated over a larger geo­graph­i­cal area, and
­labor was considerably more mobile ­t here. Feudal institutions still
held Eu­rope in a power­ful grip, at least u­ ntil the French Revolution.
Serfdom persisted in Eastern Eu­rope u ­ ntil the nineteenth c­ entury
(whereas in China it had almost completely dis­appeared by the be-
ginning of the sixteenth ­century), and in the eigh­teenth c­ entury mo-
bility was still restricted in Western Eu­rope, especially in the United
Kingdom and in France, due to the Poor Laws. Elites and local sei-
gneurial courts enjoyed considerable autonomy in imposing coercive
rules on the working classes. Ecclesiastical properties that ­were par-
tially frozen on the exchanges ­were also larger in Eu­rope.
Fi­nally, and above all, taxes ­were much lower in China, as they ­were
in the Ottoman Empire. The Qing dynasty had practiced strict bud­get
orthodoxy; taxes always financed expenditures, without deficits. Con-
versely, the Eu­ro­pean states, beginning with the kingdom of France
and the United Kingdom, ­were almost continually at war between
1500 and 1800, and they accumulated substantial public debts despite
high taxes b ­ ecause fiscal receipts never sufficed to cover the excep-
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 53

tional expenses connected with the conflicts. Expenses w ­ ere also

swollen by interest payments linked to preceding debts. But it was pre-
cisely this fiscal, financial, and military capacity that was to prove
decisive for the rise of Eu­rope’s power. Concretely, whereas the Chi-
nese or Ottoman states ­were militarily neck and neck with the Eu­ro­
pean states in the sixteenth ­century and for most of the seventeenth
(the Ottomans’ last siege of Vienna dates from 1683), the continual
competition among Eu­ro­pean states helped them develop a state
capacity that resulted in their acquisition of an absolute military
domination starting in the late eigh­teenth c­ entury and continuing
throughout the nineteenth. Around 1550, the Ottoman infantry and
navy consisted of 140,000 men, as many as the French and En­glish
forces taken together. By 1780, the Ottoman forces had hardly changed
at all (150,000 men), while French and British land and sea forces had
reached a total of 450,000 men, together with a clearly superior naval
fleet and greater firepower. In addition, at that time we must also count
250,000 men for Austria and 180,000 for Prus­sia (whereas ­these two
states w­ ere militarily non­ex­is­tent in 1550).3
As imperfect as they may be, the sources at our disposal, namely
tax receipts, confirm the existence of a major divergence between Eu­
ro­pean states and non-­European states between 1500 and 1800 (see
Figure 8). Receipts are very low almost everywhere u ­ ntil 1600–1650.
Then an increasingly clear divergence appears in 1700–1750 as the Eu­
ro­pean states are consolidated. At the end of the eigh­teenth c­ entury
and the beginning of the nineteenth, Chinese and Ottoman tax re-
ceipts in urban areas still amounted to between two and four days’
salary per inhabitant (about 1 to 2 ­percent of the national income),
whereas in the main Eu­ro­pean states they represented between fifteen

3. K. Karaman and S. Pamuk, “Ottoman State Finances in Eu­ro­pean Perspective,”

Journal of Economic History 70, no. 3 (2010): 593–629; and T. Piketty, Capital and Ide-
ology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2020), 369–371.
54 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

22
20 England
18 Prussia
equivalent days of wages
Per capita tax receipts in

16 France
14 Chinese Empire
12 Ottoman Empire
10
8
6
4
2
0
1500 1550 1600 1650 1700 1750 1800 1850

figure 8. ​At the Origins of the ­Great Divergence: The Rise of Eu­ro­pean States’
Fiscal and Military Capabilities, 1500–1850
Around 1500–1600, the per capita tax receipts in Eu­rope ­were equivalent to two to
four days’ wages for unskilled urban workers; between 1750 and 1850 they ­were be-
tween ten and twenty days’ wages. In comparison, the tax receipts remained stable at
around two to five days’ wages in the Ottoman and Chinese Empires. With a national
income of around 250 days of urban wages, that means that receipts stagnated at
around 1 to 2  ­percent of national income in the Chinese and Ottoman Empires,
whereas they r­ ose from 1–2 ­percent to 6–8 ­percent of the national income in Eu­rope.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

and twenty days’ salary (about 6 to 8 ­percent of the national income).4

However imprecise the sources may be, ­there is no doubt about the
divergence, and it corresponds to a major transformation. In concrete
terms, a state that levies taxes amounting to only 1 ­percent of the na-
tional income has very ­little power and capacity to mobilize society.
Roughly speaking, it can put 1 ­percent of the population in its ser­vice

4. Taking into account the uncertainties connected with the estimation of national
income, it is preferable to make use of mea­sures expressed in terms of days of urban
salary, which are magnitudes less poorly known over the long term, in par­t ic­u ­lar in the
construction sector. We find the same massive divergence between Eu­ro­pean states and
the Ottoman and Chinese states in the eigh­teenth c­ entury if we express fiscal receipts in
terms of tons of silver. See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 364–365, fig. 9.1.
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 55

to perform functions that it considers useful.5 Such states are often

barely able to guarantee the security of goods and persons on their
territory, and must rely for that on multiple local elites. Conversely, a
state that can put in its ser­vice the equivalent of 6 to 8 ­percent of its
population has far greater abilities, especially in terms of maintaining
order and military reach abroad. As long as all the states on the planet
­were equally weak, a certain balance prevailed. But from the moment
that several Eu­ro­pean states developed a significantly greater fiscal,
administrative, and military capacity, a new dynamic emerged.

The Cotton Empire: Taking Control of the

Global Textile Industry
Recent research has largely confirmed Pomeranz’s conclusions re-
garding the origins of the “­great divergence” and the central role
played by military and colonial domination, and by the technological
and financial innovations that resulted from it. Studies have stressed
the fact that the po­liti­cal fragmentation of Eu­rope allowed Eu­ro­pean
states to gain the upper hand over China and the world between 1750
and 1900, thanks to the innovations arising from military rivalries.6

5. This assumes that the p­ eople employed by the state (such as police officers, sol-
diers, and administrators) are paid at the average rate in the society in question, and
that the equipment and supplies they need to perform their jobs cost an average
amount. If they cost two or three times more than the average, the ability to hire is re-
duced by the same amount.
6. It must be emphasized that the key roles played by slaveholding and colonial ex-
traction in the development of industrial capitalism have already been analyzed by
many nineteenth-­century observers (beginning with Karl Marx), as well as by Eric Wil-
liams, a historian, economist, and also the first minister of Trinidad and Tobago from
1956 to 1981. E. E. Williams, Capitalism and Slavery (New York: Capricorn Books, 1944).
In comparison, Max Weber focused on cultural and religious f­ actors, whereas Fernand
Braudel brought out in par­t ic­u ­lar the role of high finance that proceeded from both
Catholic and Protestant Eu­rope. M. Weber, Die protestantische Ethik und der Geist des
Kapitalismus (Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1905), first translated into En­g lish as Weber, The
Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, trans. T. Parsons (London: G. Allen and
Unwin, 1930); F. Braudel, Civilisation matérielle, économie et capitalisme: xve–­xviiie
56 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

This po­liti­cal fragmentation has had effects that can be considered

negative over the long term, as is illustrated by the cycle of nation-
alist and genocidal self-­destruction into which the Eu­ro­pean colonial
powers plunged between 1914 and 1945; or, in a less extreme way, by
the per­sis­tent difficulties the Eu­ro­pean Union has encountered in
trying to or­ga­nize and unite itself po­liti­cally in the early 2020s.
Sven Beckert’s research on the “cotton empire” has also shown the
crucial importance of slave l­ abor in the extraction of cotton when the
British and Eu­ro­pe­a ns seized control over worldwide textile pro-
duction between 1750 and 1860.7 U ­ ntil about 1780 to 1790, the West
Indies and especially Saint-­Domingue ­were the primary cotton
producers. A ­ fter the collapse of the plantations on Saint-­Domingue
following the slave revolt of 1791, the US South took up the torch
and pushed the acquisition of slaves and the capacity for cotton pro-
duction to unpre­ce­dented levels. The ban on a black slave trade
took effect in 1808, but in real­ity, clandestine trading continued for a
few de­cades (particularly to Brazil). Above all, the plantation ­owners
realized that encouraging or forcing slaves to reproduce was a far
faster and more efficient way to increase their l­abor force. Between
1800 and 1860, the number of slaves grew fourfold in the American
South, rising from one to four million (see Figure 9). The production
of cotton increased tenfold, taking into account the improvement of
techniques and the intensification of production. On the eve of the
Civil War, 75 ­percent of the cotton imported to Eu­ro­pean textile fac-
tories came from the southern United States, which reflects quite
clearly the crucial role of the slave system.

siècle, 3 vols. (Paris: A. Colin, 1979), first translated into En­g lish as Braudel, Civilization
and Capitalism, 15th–18th Centuries, 3 vols., trans. Siân Reynold (New York: Harper and
Row, 1982–1984). The recent works by Pomeranz, Parthasarathi, and Beckert, which are
much less Eurocentric, represent a kind of return to Marx and Williams, but use tools
and the richer sources associated with connected world history. P. Parthasarathi, Why
Eu­rope Grew Rich and Asia Did Not: Global Economic Divergence 1600–1850 (Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011); S. Beckert, Empire of Cotton: A Global His-
tory (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2014); Pomeranz, The ­Great Divergence.
7. Beckert, Empire of Cotton.
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 57

6.5
6.0 Cuba
5.5 Brazil
Number of slaves (millions)

5.0 Southern
4.5 United States
4.0 French and British
3.5 West Indies
3.0
2.5
2.0
1.5
1.0
0.5
0.0
1700 1750 1780 1820 1860 1880 1890

figure 9. ​The Rise and Fall of Euro-­A merican Slavery, 1700–1890

The total number of slaves on Euro-­A merican plantations in the Atlantic sphere
reached 6 million in 1860 (including 4 million in the southern United States, 1.6
million in Brazil, and 0.4 million in Cuba). Slavery in the French and British West
Indies (to which I have added Mauritius, La Ré­union, and the Cape Colony) reached
its apogee around 1780–1790 (1.3 million), then declined following the revolt in
Saint-­Domingue (Haiti) and the abolitions of 1833 and 1848. Sources and series:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

Prasannan Parthasarathi’s works have made it pos­si­ble to empha-

size the key role of anti-­Indian protectionist policies in the emergence
of the British textile industry.8 In the seventeenth and eigh­teenth cen-
turies, exports of manufactured products (textiles of all kinds, silks,
porcelain) came chiefly from China and India, and they w ­ ere largely
financed by imports of silver and gold coming from Eu­rope and
Amer­i­ca, as well as from Japan. Indian textiles, and especially printed
fabrics and blue calicos, ­were madly popu­lar in Eu­rope and throughout
the world. At the beginning of the eigh­teenth c­ entury, 80 ­percent of
the textiles traded by British merchants for slaves in West Africa w ­ ere
made in India, and this proportion still reached 60 ­percent at the end
of the c­ entury. Maritime registers indicate that in the 1770s Indian tex-

8. Parthasarathi, Why Eu­rope Grew Rich and Asia Did Not.

58 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

tiles by themselves represented a third of the cargos loaded in Rouen

on ships engaged in the slave trade. Ottoman reports attest that In-
dian textile exports to the M ­ iddle East ­were still at that time larger
than t­ hose sent to West Africa. This does not seem to have been a
prob­lem for the Turkish authorities, who ­were more concerned with
the interests of the local consumer than with t­ hose of the producers.
In Eu­rope, merchants very quickly saw the interest they might have in
encouraging protests against Indian textiles, and in appropriating part
of this know-­how to develop their own trans-­continental pro­j­ects.
In 1685, the British Parliament introduced tariffs of 20 ­percent, raised
them to 30 ­percent in 1690, and fi­nally imposed a complete ban on the
importation of printed or colored textiles in 1700. From that time on,
only undyed fabric was imported from India, which allowed British
producers to innovate, dyeing and printing their own. Similar mea­
sures w ­ ere ­adopted in France, and they w ­ ere strengthened in the
United Kingdom throughout the eigh­teenth c­ entury, notably with
the institution in 1787 of a duty of 100 ­percent on all Indian textiles.
The pressure exercised by slave traders in Liverpool, who had a vital
need for quality textiles to develop their commerce on the coast of
Africa without spending all their coin, played a decisive role, espe-
cially between 1765 and 1785, a period during which British produc-
tion rapidly improved. It was only ­after having acquired an incontest-
able comparative advantage in the textile industry, in par­tic­u­lar thanks
to the use of coal, that the United Kingdom began, starting in the m ­ iddle
of the nineteenth ­century, to adopt a more assertive free-­trade dis-
course. The British also made use of protectionist mea­sures in the naval
industry, which had flourished in India in the seventeenth and eigh­
teenth centuries, by instituting in 1715 a special tax of 15 ­percent on all
goods imported on ships made in India, and then by decreeing that
only British vessels could import to the United Kingdom merchandise
coming from east of the Cape of Good Hope. Even if it is difficult to
propose an overall estimate, it seems clear that the w ­ hole of ­these pro-
tectionist mea­sures, imposed on the rest of the world by the threat of an
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 59

attack by British gunboats, played a significant role in British and Eu­ro­

pean industrial domination. According to available estimates, China’s
and India’s share in worldwide manufacturing, which was still 53 ­percent
in 1800, was no more than 5 ­percent in 1900.9

Protectionism, Center-­Periphery Relations,

and World-­Systems
Let us add that protectionism played a central role not only in Eu­rope’s
rise to power, but also in almost all the successful experiments in eco-
nomic development. Japan since the end of the nineteenth c­ entury,
South ­Korea or Taiwan since the m ­ iddle of the twentieth c­ entury,
and China since the end of the twentieth c­ entury and at the begin-
ning of the twenty-­first ­century have all practiced in one way or another
a targeted protectionism that allowed them to develop a specialty
and knowledge in sectors considered priorities. At the same time,
­these countries have drastically l­imited any opportunity for foreign
investors to seize control of the production units being formed in
­these priority sectors. It is only ­after having established their supremacy
over certain products that the countries that have become dominant
begin to lapse into the free-­trade discourse, which in practice often
ends up making other, less advanced countries permanently depen-
dent on them. Wallerstein’s research on world-­systems and center-­
periphery relations has abundantly illustrated this real­ity in the
long-­term history of capitalism.10 Other studies have analyzed the

9. See Parthasarathi, Why Eu­rope Grew Rich, 97–131, 234–235. Compare P. Singara-
vélou and S. Venayre, Histoire du monde au xixe siècle (Paris: Fayard, 2017), 90–92.
10. I. Wallerstein, The Modern World-­System 4 vols. (New York: Academic Press,
1974–1989); G. Arrighi, The Long Twentieth ­Century: Money, Power and the Origins of
Our Time (London: Verso, 1994). Compare D. Harvey, Spaces of Capital: ­Towards a Crit-
ical Geography (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2001).
60 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

central role played by national industrial strategies in more recent

periods.11
Concerning the rise of Eu­rope’s power in the eigh­teenth and nine-
teenth centuries, the only genuine specificity is the immoderate and
uninhibited use of military force at the global level, in the absence of
any true internal or external counterweight. The first Eu­ro­pean com-
mercial companies, such as the British East India Com­pany or the
Dutch East Indies Com­pany, ­were like genuine enterprises of trans-
national militarized robbery, with private armies subjugating ­whole
populations u ­ nder their ruthless control.12 The history of the opium
wars is a good example. Recognizing that the silver from the Amer­
i­cas that had allowed them up to that point to balance their books with
China and India was almost exhausted, Eu­ro­pe­ans at the beginning
of the eigh­teenth ­century worried about no longer having anything
to trade in exchange for their imports of silks, textiles, porcelain,
spices, and tea coming from the two ­future Asian ­giants. The British
then intensified their opium-­growing efforts in India in order to ex-
port the drug to China. That is how opium trafficking expanded con-
siderably in the course of the eigh­teenth ­century, and in 1773 the
British East India Com­pany established its mono­poly over the pro-
duction and exportation of opium from Bengal.
Confronted by an enormous increase in the volume of opium
traded, the Qing Empire fi­nally took action. It had been trying since
1729, without success, to enforce its interdiction on opium consump-
tion, for obvious reasons of public health. In 1839, the emperor ordered
his envoy in Canton to put a stop to the traffic and to burn the
stock of opium immediately. A violent anti-­Chinese press campaign
financed by the opium merchants was then set up in the United

11. For example, H. J. Chang, Kicking Away the Ladder: Development Strategy in His-
torical Perspective (London: Anthem, 2002); M. Mazzucato, Entrepreneurial State: De-
bunking Public vs. Private Sector Myths (London: Anthem, 2013).
12. W. Dalrymple, The Anarchy: The Relentless Rise of the East India Com­pany (New
York: Bloomsbury, 2019).
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 61

Kingdom, in order to denounce the intolerable violation of the right

to property and the unacceptable challenge to the princi­ples of ­free
trade. The Qing emperor had clearly underestimated the United King-
dom’s increasing fiscal and military power, and the first Opium War
(1839–1842) ended with a quick rout of the Chinese. The British sent a
fleet that bombarded Canton and Shanghai, which allowed them to
obtain a signature in 1842 on the first of the “unequal treaties” (an ex-
pression pop­u­lar­ized by Sun Yat-­sen in 1924). The Chinese paid fi-
nancial compensation for the opium destroyed and for the costs of
the war. At the same time they granted l­egal and fiscal privileges to
British merchants and ceded to them the island of Hong Kong.
However, the Qing government still refused to legalize the opium
trade. The Second Opium War (1856–1860) and the sack of the Summer
Palace by French and British troops in Beijing in 1860 fi­nally led the
emperor to capitulate. In 1860–1862, the Chinese state had to grant
the Eu­ro­pe­a ns a series of commercial trading posts and territorial
concessions, as well as heavy war reparations. In the name of religious
freedom, it also had to allow Christian missionaries to roam freely
about the country (without considering that Buddhists, Muslims, or
Hindus could be granted the same right in Eu­rope). An irony of his-
tory: it was following this military tribute imposed by the French and
British that the Chinese state had to abandon its Smithian bud­getary
orthodoxy and resort, for the first time, to a major public debt. This
debt snowballed and forced the Qing Empire to raise taxes to reim-
burse the Eu­ro­pe­ans, and then cede to them a growing share of the
country’s fiscal sovereignty, in accord with a classic colonial scenario
of coercion through debt that we find in many other countries (such
as Morocco).13

13. A. Barbe, Dette publique et impérialisme au Maroc (1856–1956) (Casablanca: La

Croisée des chemins, 2020). Compare N. Barreyre and N. Delalande, A World of Public
Debts: A Po­liti­cal History (London: Palgrave, 2020); P. Penet and J. Zendejas, Sovereign
Debt Diplomacies: Rethinking Sovereign Debt from Colonial Empires to Hegemony (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2021).
62 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

This internal public debt was contracted by Eu­ro­pean states to fi-

nance their internal wars throughout the seventeenth and eigh­teenth
centuries, but it also played a central role in the pro­cess of securitiza-
tion and financial innovation. Some of ­these experiments ended with
resounding bankruptcies, beginning with John Law’s famous bank-
ruptcy of the French Banque Générale in 1718–1720, which arose from
the efforts made by the French and British states to rid themselves of
their respective debts by offering shares in more or less crazy colo-
nial companies—­such as the Mississippi Com­pany, whose failure trig-
gered the collapse of the financial ­bubble. At the time, most of ­these
proj­ects for joint-­stock companies ­were based on the exploitation of
commercial or fiscal monopolies of the colonial type, and had l­ittle
to do with entrepreneurs who actually produced t­ hings. By developing
financial and commercial techniques on the global level, Eu­ro­pe­ans
helped establish the infrastructures and comparative advantages that
­were to prove decisive in the age of globalized industrial and finan-
cial capitalism at the end of the nineteenth c­ entury and the beginning
of the twentieth.14

Provincializing Eu­rope and Rethinking

the West’s Specificity
In short, colonialism and military domination permitted Western
countries to or­ga­nize the world-­economy to their benefit and relegated
the rest of the planet to an enduring peripheral position. Let us repeat:

14. In their recent synthesis on the history of capitalism, Pierre François and Claire
Lemercier distinguish the age of commerce (1680–1880), the age of the factory (1880–
1980), and the age of finance (since 1980). During the age of commerce, Western coun-
tries took control of the planet and its maritime networks: they imposed their military
and commercial preeminence on the rest of the world, which allowed them to accumu-
late capital that would ­later play a central role in the transition to the age of the factory.
See P. François and C. Lemercier, Sociologie historique du capitalisme (Paris: La Décou-
verte, 2021).
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 63

t­ here is nothing specifically Eu­ro­pean about this strategy. Japan ex-

perimented with it, at the expense of part of Asia, during the first
half of the twentieth ­century, and it was only ­after the end of Japa­
nese colonialism that South ­Korea and Taiwan ­were able to establish
an autonomous development strategy. Once it escaped colonial con-
trol by both the West and Japan, China was able to work out its own
development strategy in the early 1980s, a­ fter a few de­cades of hesita-
tion. This strategy has already led China to make numerous poorer
and less well-­positioned Asian and African economies dependent on
it. Eu­rope’s claim to originality consists in having been the first to try
out this strategy and the first to extend it to the global scale and over
several centuries, supported by a military domination that long re-
mained uncontested and by the per­sis­tent absence of any sufficiently
or­ga­nized internal or external opposition.
However, the fact that colonialism played a central role in the emer-
gence of Western capitalism does not ­settle all the questions, far
from it. Next, we have to explain the reasons for the fiscal and mili-
tary superiority developed in Eu­rope. This is usually done by stressing
the par­tic­u­lar forms ­adopted by interstate competition and Eu­ro­pean
territorial structures between 1500 and 1800, though t­ hese explana-
tions are not exhaustive. For example, interstate competition was also
very strong in the Indian subcontinent, but their system of borders
was much less stable than Eu­rope’s. Some authors defend the thesis
that specifically cap­i­tal­ist social relations of production (not found
elsewhere in the world) developed in the En­glish countryside in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, long before colonial expansion
played a decisive role, in connection with an early pro­cess of state cen-
tralization.15 Although t­hese studies are thought-­provoking, when

15. R. Brenner, “Agrarian Class Structure and Economic Development in Pre­-­

Industrial Eu­rope,” Past and Pre­sent 70, no. 1 (1976): 30–75; E. Meiksins Wood, The
Origin of Capitalism: A Longer View, new ed. (London: Verso, 2002); A. Bihr, Le Premier
Âge du capitalisme, vol. 1: L’Expansion européenne (1415–1763) (Paris: Syllepse, 2018).
64 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

examined carefully, we find that the supporting source material seems

thus far too fragile (and too Eurocentric) to establish such a conclu-
sion on a firm basis. At this stage, the most convincing thesis seems
to be the one developed by Pomeranz and Parthasarathi, according
to which the socioeconomic structures in force in the most advanced
regions of Eu­rope, China, Japan, and India remained almost the same
­until the m ­ iddle of the eigh­teenth c­ entury and began to diverge only
in the context of colonial and military domination.
It is, however, completely pos­si­ble that new research or previously
unknown sources ­will make it pos­si­ble to further develop this con-
clusion, now fragile and provisional. Many other f­ actors might explain
an ­earlier proto-­capitalist divergence. For example, the medievalist
Giacomo Todeschini proposes that the Catholic Church developed a
particularly sophisticated system of financial, commercial, and prop-
erty law in Eu­rope in order to ensure its permanence as a si­mul­ta­
neously religious, po­liti­cal, and property-­owning organ­ization, even
though the clergy’s celibacy forbade it to exist as a class.16 Before him,
the anthropologist Jack Goody proposed the hypothesis that several
­factors specific to Eu­ro­pe­ans, in par­tic­u­lar ­family structure (the pro-
hibition of marriage between cousins, adoptions, and the remarriage
of w
­ idows, which ­were all against Catholic regulations), are connected
with the Christian church’s firm desire to receive goods and assert it-
self as a property-­owning organ­ization rivaling families.17
Many studies, such as ­those of Sanjay Subrahmanyam, have em-
phasized geopo­liti­cal and religious motivations that may have even
more decisively influenced Eu­ro­pean expansionism. The intent was
to encircle the eternal Muslim e­ nemy: the Portuguese set out to round
the Cape of Good Hope in search of a hy­po­thet­i­cal Christian realm
in East Africa that would have allowed them to attack Islam from
­behind. ­A fter a fruitless quest on the eastern coast of Africa, they

16. G. Todeschini, Les Marchands et le T­ emple. La société chrétienne et le cercle ver-

tueux de la richesse du Moyen Âge à l’Époque moderne (Paris: Albin Michel, 2017).
17. J. Goody, The Eu­ro­pean ­Family (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2000).
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 65

ended up reaching the coast of India. It then took them several years
to realize that the sovereigns encountered near Calcutta and Kochi
by Vasco da Gama, who himself belonged to the military o ­ rders ac-
tive during the Reconquista, ­were Hindus and not Christians.18 The
motivating role of the rivalry with Islam was also stressed by Edward
Saïd, who showed how the discourse seeking to stigmatize the Orient
and Muslims, who w ­ ere considered to be vicious by nature and inca-
pable of governing themselves, has been used to justify the colonial
proj­ect.19
On a completely dif­fer­ent level, Claude Lévi-­Strauss emphasized
the deep anthropological connections that he claims unite the Far
West and the Far East. Th­ ese ends of the world benefited from natu­ral
frontiers that favored the formation of the state—­notably the case for
the British Isles and Japan, but also to a lesser degree for France—­but
since the age of the Neolithic migrations the Far West and the Far East
had also been receptacles for mythologies, ideologies, and knowledge
about the world.20 Research on the formation of the first states in the
Neolithic age also shows the importance of ritual constructions and

18. S. Subrahmanyam, The ­Career and Legend of Vasco da Gama (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1997).
19. In 1833, Lamartine published his famous Voyage en Orient, in which he theorizes
the Eu­ro­pean right to sovereignty over the Orient at a time when France was waging a
brutal war of conquest in Algeria. Shortly before, in Le Génie du christianisme and then
in his Itinéraire de Paris à Jérusalem, Chateaubriand had written very harsh pages justi-
fying the civilizing role of the Crusades and condemning Islam without reservations:
“Some have censured the knights for g­ oing in quest of the infidels even into their own
countries; but such are not aware that, a­ fter all, this was but making just reprisals upon
nations who had been the first aggressors: the Moors exterminated by Charles Martel
justify the Crusades. Did the disciples of the Coran remain quiet in the deserts of Arabia?
Have they not on the contrary extended their doctrines and their ravages to the walls of
Delhi and the ramparts of Vienna? It would perhaps have been better to wait till the
haunts of t­ hese ferocious beasts ­were again replenished.” François-­René vicomte de
Chateaubriand, The Beauties of Chris­tian­ity, tr. F. Shoberl (London: Henry Colburn, 1813),
166–167. See E. Saïd, Orientalism (New York: Vintage Books, 1978), 171–174. Compare
Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 325–330.
20. C. Levi-­Strauss, The Other Face of the Moon (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of
Harvard University Press, 2013).
66 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

the extreme fragility of state structures, with the exception, however,

of places that are restricted territorially (islands, seaboards).21

The Role of Economic and Social History in the

Construction of the State
All t­ hese religious, ideological, and anthropological f­ actors have un-
doubtedly had a g­ reat influence on the history of Eu­rope, as they have
in other parts of the world, and it would be illusory and puerile to
claim to be able to ferret out, among all t­ hese ele­ments, a single root
cause of historical events as they unfolded. At this point, it seems to
me more useful to note that the development of Western and world
capitalism was based on the international division of l­abor and the
unrestrained exploitation of the planet’s natu­ral and ­human resources,
and that the power relationships between states have played an abso-
lutely central role in that history. The impor­tant point is that the con-
struction of the state does not simply involve the development of a
fiscal and military capability. It is inseparable from the worldviews,
ideologies, identities, institutions, languages, and “imaginary com-
munities” connecting millions of persons who have never met and
never w ­ ill, but who nonetheless agree, willingly or unwillingly, to obey
the rules of a common state authority.22 For centuries, ­these state con-
structions have generally been controlled by the dominant classes,
which are sometimes themselves in discord, intent as they have been
on developing their own proj­ects of po­liti­cal, colonial, religious, or
commercial domination in the rest of the world. Subaltern classes nev-
ertheless play a growing role in revolts and social strug­gles at the end

21. J.-­P. Demoule, “Naissances des inégalités et prémisses de l’État,” in La Révolution

néolithique dans le monde, ed. Demoule (Paris: CNRS Editions, 2010).
22. On the construction of the imaginary communities at the origin of modern
nation-­states in connection with the spread of printing, see the classic book by B. R.
Anderson, ­Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism,
rev. ed. (London: Verso, 2006).
 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 67

of the eigh­teenth ­century and ­after, and thus help determine the type
of state power that develops and what po­liti­cal proj­ect it has in view.
In itself, the state is neither egalitarian nor inegalitarian: every­thing
depends on who controls it and for what purpose. To a certain extent,
we find the same ambivalence in the first states,23 or during certain
periods before the eigh­teenth ­century, even if the sources needed to
study them in a satisfactory way are lacking.24

23. See A. Testart, L’Institution de l’esclavage. Une approche mondiale (Paris: Gal-
limard, 2018). Testart defends the idea that the formation of the state usually leads to
abolishing internal slavery and regulating relations of extreme de­pen­dency between
possessors and possessed (not b ­ ecause they like equality, but ­because they want to avoid
fracturing the community into scattered sovereignties—in other words, in order to es-
tablish a unified state sovereignty). Conversely, several authors stress the fact that the
first states w
­ ere based on oppression and forced ­labor, and propose to rehabilitate alter-
native decentralized po­liti­cal forms. See P. Clastres, La Société contre l’État (Paris: Minuit,
1974); J. Scott, Against the Grain: A Deep History of the Earliest States (New Haven CT:
Yale University Press, 2017); D. Graeber and D. Wengrow, “How to Change the Course
of ­Human History,” Eurozine, March 2, 2018; D. Graeber and D. Wengrow, The Dawn of
Every­thing: A New History of Humanity (London: Allen Lane, 2021).
24. However, see the works of G. Alfani, “Economic In­equality in Pre­industrial
Times,” Journal of Economic Lit­er­a­ture 59, no. 1 (2021): 3–44; and G. Alfani and M. Di
Tullio, The Lion’s Share: In­equality and the Rise of the Fiscal State in Pre­industrial Eu­
rope (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019), which highlight, on the basis of
local urban sources in Italy and the Netherlands, a tendency for property to become
more concentrated between 1500 and 1800, and explain this development by the regres-
siveness of the fiscal and state systems. Taking into account the fact that the poor rural
and urban population is less well registered at the beginning of this period, it is none-
theless not completely certain that this evolution is significant. Compare B. Van Bavel,
The Invisible Hand? How Market Economies Have Emerged and Declined since ad 500
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016).
 •
4

T H E Q U E S T I O N O F R E PA R AT I O N S

The exit from slavery and colonialism, a major step in the long march
­toward equality studied in this book, involves conflicts and strug­gles,
liberations and injustices—­for example, the financial compensation
paid to slaveholders (and not to former slaves). This episode, which
should be better known, raises the question of modern-­day repara-
tions. No m ­ atter how complex this question is, it cannot be evaded
forever: it is time to act, u
­ nless we want deep and lasting injustice to
continue. More generally, a colonial heritage of slaveholding forces us
to rethink the connection between reparatory justice and universalist
justice all over the world.

The End of Slavery: Financial Compensation

for Slaveholders
In the eigh­teenth and nineteenth centuries, slavery increased in scope
within the Atlantic sphere. In the US South, the number of slaves qua­
dru­pled between 1800 and 1860. The plantation system, which reached
a size never before seen in history, played a central role in the Western
textile industry. A few de­cades e­ arlier, up to the end of the eigh­teenth
­century, the heart of the plantation economy was French and British. In
the 1780s, the French slaveholding islands held the largest concentra-
tion of slaves in the Euro-­American world—­about 700,000—­compared
with 600,000 in the British possessions, and 500,000 on the planta-
tions in the southern United States.
 The Question of Reparations 69

In the French West Indies, the main concentrations of slaves ­were

in Martinique, Guadeloupe, and especially Saint-­Domingue. Renamed
Haiti in the Declaration of In­de­pen­dence of 1804, Saint-­Domingue
was the jewel of the French colonies at the end of the eigh­teenth ­century,
the most prosperous and most profitable of all French possessions
owing to its production of sugar, coffee, and cotton. Santo Domingo,
as the colony was previously known, came u ­ nder French control in
1626 and encompassed the western part of the island of Hispaniola,
where Columbus had landed in 1492. The eastern part of the island
was a Spanish colony that l­ater became the Dominican Republic.
The neighboring island of Cuba also remained ­under Spanish con-
trol, and slavery continued ­there ­until 1886–1887, as it did in Brazil. In
the Indian Ocean, the two French slaveholding islands ­were Île de
France and Île Bourbon. In the eigh­teenth ­century, Île de France was
the more impor­tant of the two, but it was occupied by British sol-
diers in 1810 and became a British possession, renamed Mauritius,
in 1815. Île Bourbon, however, remained French and was renamed Île
de la Ré­union. In all, around 1780 ­there ­were almost 100,000 slaves
on the plantations of t­hese two islands and 600,000 in the French
West Indies, almost 450,000 of them in Saint-­Domingue.
We must also emphasize that t­ hese w ­ ere truly slave islands, in the
sense that the proportion of slaves ­rose as high as 90 ­percent of the
total population of Saint-­Domingue in the 1780s (or even 95 ­percent
if we include f­ ree Blacks and métis, ­those of mixed-­race descent). In
the course of the period 1780–1830, we find comparable levels in the
rest of the British and French West Indies: 84 ­percent in Jamaica,
80 ­percent in Barbados, 85 ­percent in Martinique, 86 ­percent in Gua-
deloupe. Th
­ ese are the highest levels ever observed in the history of
Atlantic slaveholding socie­ties, and more generally in the world his-
tory of slaveholding socie­ties (see Figure 10). In comparison, during
the same period slaves represented between 30 and 50 ­percent of the
population of the southern United States and Brazil, and the avail-
able sources suggest comparable proportions in Athens and in Rome
in antiquity. The British and French West Indies of the eigh­teenth and
70 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

90%
80%
Slaves as proportion of

70%
the total population

60%
50%
40%
30%
20%
10%
0%
80
50

30

30

90
90

90
00 d

60 ed
So 18 nite

18
17

18

18

17
17
18 nit

17
es U

es U

il
il

ca

os

pe
ue

e
az
az

gu
at r n

at r n

ai

ad

ou
iq
Br
Br
St the

St the

in
m

tin
rb

l
de

om
Ja

Ba

ar
u

ua
So

t-D
M

in
Sa
figure 10. ​Atlantic Slaveholding Socie­ties, Eigh­teenth and Nineteenth Centuries
The slaves represented approximately one-­t hird of the population in the southern
United States from 1800 to 1860. In Brazil, this proportion declined from almost
50 ­percent to less than 20 ­percent between 1750 and 1880. It exceeded 80 ­percent in
the slaveholding islands of the British and French West Indies in 1780–1830, and
even reached 90 ­percent in Saint-­Domingue (Haiti) in 1790. Sources and series:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

early nineteenth centuries offer the best-­documented historical ex-

amples of socie­ties in which nearly the entire population consisted
of slaves.
It is obvious that when the proportion of slaves reaches 80 or
90 ­percent, the risk of rebellion becomes very high, no m ­ atter how
ferocious the repressive apparatus might be. The case of Haiti was par-
ticularly extreme in that the slave population grew very rapidly, and
the number of slaves was significantly greater than on the other is-
lands. Around 1700, the total population of the island was about
30,000 inhabitants, of which barely half w ­ ere slaves. At the beginning
of the 1750s, Haiti had 120,000 slaves (77 ­percent of the total popula-
tion), 25,000 Whites (19 ­percent), and 5,000 métis and ­f ree Blacks
(4 ­percent). At the end of the 1780s, the colony had more than 470,000
 The Question of Reparations 71

550
5%
500 Whites 5%
450 Free Blacks
400
Population (thousands)

Enslaved Blacks
350
300
250
200
19%
150
4%
100
41%
50 3%
56% 77% 90%
0
1700 1710 1720 1730 1740 1750 1760 1770 1780 1790

figure 11. ​A Slaveholding Island in Expansion: Saint-­Domingue, 1700–1790

The total population of Saint-­Domingue (Haiti) ­rose from barely 50,000 persons in
1700–1710 (including 56  ­ percent slaves, 3  ­
percent ­f ree Blacks and métis, and
41  ­percent Whites) to more than 500,000 persons in 1790 (including 90  ­percent
slaves, 5 ­percent f­ree Blacks and métis, and 5 ­percent Whites). Sources and series:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

slaves (90 ­percent of the population), 28,000 Whites (5 ­percent), and

25,000 métis and ­free Blacks (5 ­percent) (see Figure 11).
On the eve of 1789, about 40,000 Africans had been forcibly trans-
ported ­every year in Port-­au-­Prince and Cap-­Français to replace de-
ceased slaves and replenish the slave trade, which was then growing
at an extremely fast pace. The system was in a phase of accelerated
expansion when the French Revolution broke out. In 1789–1790, ­free
Blacks claimed the right to vote and to participate in assemblies. This
seemed to them logical, given the resounding proclamations regarding
equal rights that w ­ ere being made in Paris, but they w ­ ere refused
that right. The slave uprising began in August 1791, ­after a meeting at
­Bois-­Caïman on the Northern Plain, in which thousands of maroons
took part, t­ hose who had over the de­cades escaped slavery and taken
refuge in the mountains. Despite military reinforcements sent from
France, the insurgents rapidly gained ground and took control of the
72 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

plan­tations, whereupon the planters fled the country. The new com-
missioners sent from Paris decreed the emancipation of slaves in
August 1793, a decision that was extended to all the colonies by the
Convention of February 1794, which by declaring the general aboli-
tion of slavery marked itself as dif­fer­ent from proclamations of
­earlier and ­later regimes (even if this decision was, in real­ity, imposed
on the regime by the rebels). ­There was hardly any time to implement
this decision. In 1802, the property ­owners persuaded Napoleon to
reestablish slavery in all the slaveholding islands except Haiti, which
declared its in­de­pen­dence in 1804, ­after having once again driven
out the French troops sent to take back their property. It was not ­until
1825 that Charles X recognized Haiti’s in­de­pen­dence, and it was only
in 1848 that a new law of abolition was ­adopted and implemented in
the other territories, in par­t ic­u ­lar Martinique, Guadeloupe, and La
Ré­union.

Should the French State Reimburse the

Debt Paid by Haiti?
The case of Haiti is emblematic, not only b ­ ecause it was the first abo-
lition of slavery in the modern age a­ fter a victorious slave revolt, and
the first in­de­pen­dence from a Eu­ro­pean power won by a Black popu-
lation, but also b­ ecause this episode ended with a gigantic public debt
that undermined Haiti’s development over the following two centu-
ries. Although in 1825 France fi­nally agreed to accept the country’s
in­de­pen­dence and to put an end to its threats to send troops to invade
the island, that was only ­because Charles X had obtained from the
Haitian government a commitment to repay to France a debt of 150
million gold francs to indemnify the slaveholders for the loss of their
property. The Port-­au-­Prince government did not ­really have a choice,
given France’s clear military superiority, the embargo imposed by the
French fleet, and the genuine risk that the island would be occupied.
This veritable tribute represented more than 300  ­percent of Haiti’s
 The Question of Reparations 73

national income in 1825—­more than three years of production—­a

huge sum that it was materially impossible to repay in a short time.
In this case, the treaty stipulated a rapid payment of the w­ hole amount
to the Caisse des dépôts et consignation (a banking institution that
was created by the Revolution and still exists ­today), with the Haitian
government being responsible for refinancing itself and paying in-
terest to French private banks in order to spread out the repayment.
The Haitian debt was the object of multiple, chaotic negotiations,
but it was largely repaid (capital and interest), with an average pay-
ment of about 5 ­percent of the Haitian national income per annum
between 1840 and 1915, even if the French banks regularly complained
about late payments.1 With the support of the French government,
the banks fi­nally de­cided to cede the rest of their receivables to the
United States, which occupied Haiti from 1915 to 1934 to reestablish
order and safeguard its own financial interests.
The 1825 debt, transferred from one creditor to another, was offi-
cially extinguished and definitively repaid by the beginning of the
1950s. For more than a c­ entury, from 1825 to 1950, the price that France
tried to make Haiti pay for its freedom had one main consequence:
the island’s development was overdetermined by the question of the
indemnity, which was sometimes violently denounced and sometimes
accepted with resignation, according to the ebb and flow of endless
po­liti­cal cycles.2

1. T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard Uni-
versity Press, 2020), 217–220. Compare S. Henochsberg, “Public Debt and Slavery: The
Case of Haiti (1760–1915),” unpublished manuscript, Paris School of Economics,
December 2016.
2. ­These devastating cycles began in 1804, when Jean-­Jacques Dessalines took power.
­A fter the capitulation in 1803 of the French expeditionary force (a force whose assign-
ment had been to exterminate all the insurgents) and the arrest, in 1802, of Toussaint
Louverture, who defended tooth and nail the maintenance of a White presence, along
with the possibility of a peaceful association with France and Haiti’s integration into
the international economy, Dessalines established a hyper-­authoritarian, monarchical
regime that was anti-­W hite and isolationist. The ­later history of the island is marked by
similar cycles of denunciation and resignation.
74 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Suppose the French state fi­nally decides to reimburse the debt paid
by Haiti, as the Haitian state has been asking it to do for de­cades. What
should the amount of this reparation be? Th ­ ere is no single answer to
this question, and it deserves to be the subject of a demo­cratic debate.
But it cannot be evaded. A ­simple, transparent solution might con-
sist in setting the amount at 300 ­percent of the Haitian national in-
come in 2020, or about 30 billion euros. This proposal is far from being
maximalist, in the sense in which it includes the interest due only very
partially.3 Other modes of calculation could be used that would lead to
similar or higher amounts.4 For France, ­these 30 billion euros would
represent the equivalent of a l­ ittle more than 1 ­percent of the current
public debt, a negligible amount. For Haiti, on the other hand, they
would make an enormous difference in terms of investments and infra-
structures. It would ­really be a new start, making it pos­si­ble to liquidate
a major historical injustice.
The counterargument regularly used by French authorities, that
this history is too distant to be indemnified, is not very convincing.
­There are many pro­cesses of compensation that continue to take place
­today for expropriations and injustices that took place in the first half
of the twentieth ­century. For example, consider the spoliation of
Jewish property perpetrated by Nazi authorities during World War II,
for which restitution procedures are ongoing, in par­tic­u­lar since the
creation of the Mattéoli Mission in France in 1997. The heirs of the
Hohenzollern (the Prus­sian royal ­family, which fell from power in
1918) are currently suing the German state for residences and works of
art for which they claim they ­were insufficiently indemnified. We
could also mention the Civil Liberties Act of 1988 in the United States,

3. Considering a constant proportion of the national income over time amounts to

indexing the initial sum to the nominal growth of the economy, which leads to interme-
diary results between an indexation solely at the level of prices and an indexation to the
nominal interest rate.
4. For example, the 150 billion gold francs represented 2 ­percent of the French na-
tional income in 1825. Applying the same proportion of the French national income in
2020, we arrive at 40 billion euros.
 The Question of Reparations 75

according $20,000 to each of the Japa­nese Americans interned during

World War II.5 By rejecting any discussion of a debt that Haiti had
to pay to France for ending slavery, even though the payments made
from 1825 to 1950 are well documented and are not contested by
anyone, we risk giving the impression that some injustices are more
impor­tant than ­others. This kind of attitude helps create conflict be-
tween persons of dif­fer­ent origins, whereas we should do all we can
to reconcile them on the basis of princi­ples of justice that are as neu-
tral and universal as pos­si­ble. Let us hope that the French state, u
­ nder
pressure from its citizens, ­will be able to find a solution before Haiti’s
next centennial.6

The British and French Approaches: 1833 and 1848

In addition to the case of Haiti, we must also recall that substantial
financial compensation was paid to slaveholders ­after the British and
French abolished slavery in 1833 and 1848, respectively. Following the

5. The indemnification was reserved for individuals still alive in 1988, contrary to
what is done in the case of spoliation of property, which is generally transmitted to the
heirs. ­There is obviously nothing particularly “natu­ral” about this difference in treat-
ment; it is the result of a po­liti­cal choice. It seems to me that it is for demo­cratic delib-
eration to set the right level of indemnification and transmission in time, taking its in-
spiration, for example, from the tax scales that are applied to inheritance and property
(see Chapter 7, T ­ able 2).
6. In 1904, when the first centennial of the island’s in­de­pen­dence was being cele-
brated, the authorities of the Third Republic refused to send an official del­e­ga­t ion to
Haiti. The French government was not satisfied with the pace of the repayment of the
debt, and it was out of the question to show clemency to such a bad payer, especially in a
context in which the colonial empire frequently relied on coercion by debt. In 2004, the
authorities of the Fifth Republic came to the same conclusion, but for dif­fer­ent reasons.
The French president refused to attend the commemoration ceremonies b ­ ecause it was
feared that the Haitian president would seize the opportunity to demand that France
reimburse the odious debt that Haiti had paid off, a subject that the French government
did not want to be brought up u ­ nder any pretext. In 2015, the French president, who was
visiting Haiti a­ fter a major earthquake, reiterated this position. France did have a kind
of “moral” debt to Haiti, he said, but an agreement to talk about monetary reparations
was out of the question. Fortunately, the French state has eighty years to redefine its at-
titude for the tricentennial in 2104.
76 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

successful rebellion in Saint-­Domingue in 1791, slaveholders w ­ ere on

alert. The g­ reat revolt of Guadeloupe in 1802 ended with the execu-
tion or deportation of some 10,000 slaves, that is, 10 ­percent of the
population. This was to lead French authorities to authorize slave
trading temporarily, from 1810 to 1820, in order to repopulate the is-
land and restart the sugar plantations. A further revolt took place in
British Guiana in 1815, which was also put down by bloody repression.
The most decisive event was undoubtedly the g­ reat revolt in Jamaica
at Christmas 1831, a revolt whose gory echoes in the British press made
a strong impression on British public opinion and gave a boost to the
abolitionists in the debates of 1832–1833. Th
­ ese events helped to con-
vince property ­owners that it was wiser to accept a generous finan-
cial compensation than to risk further confrontations.
In practice, the law of abolition passed by the British Parliament
in 1833 put in place full compensation for property o ­ wners. Relatively
sophisticated scales ­were drawn up on the basis of the slaves’ age,
gender, and productivity, so that the compensation might be as fair
and as exact as pos­si­ble. In this way, some 20 million pounds ster-
ling, or about 5 ­percent of the United Kingdom’s national income at
the time, was paid to 4,000 slaveholders. T ­ oday, if a government de­
cided to devote to such a policy the same proportion of the British
national income, it would have to pay approximately 120 billion euros,
or about 39 million euros, on average, for each of the 4,000 property
­owners. ­Here we are talking about ­owners with very large holdings,
often several hundred slaves, and sometimes several thousand. All
this was financed by a corresponding increase in the public debt,
which was itself repaid by all British taxpayers, but in practice mainly
by modest, middle-­level ­house­holds, given the ­great regressiveness of
the fiscal system, which was based principally on indirect taxes.7

7. To determine the o­ rders of magnitude, we can also note that in the United
Kingdom of the nineteenth c­ entury, total expenditures earmarked for education (at all
levels) never exceeded 0.5 ­percent of the national income each year (see Chapter 6).
Thus, the equivalent in public funds of ten years of investment in education was distributed
to compensate slaveholders.
 The Question of Reparations 77

The parliamentary archives describing t­hese operations have

recently been systematically explored. At the time ­t hese operations
appeared perfectly reasonable and justified, at least in the eyes of the
minority of t­hose citizens who w ­ ere property ­owners and held po­
liti­cal power. This reexamination has led to the publication of several
books, and the complete database, including the names of the slave-
holders compensated, is available on the Internet.8 It has thus been
found, for example, that among the descendants of the slaveholders
generously compensated in the 1830s is a cousin of the Conservative
prime minister David Cameron. Demands ­were made that the sums
in question be returned to the Public Trea­sury. It was pointed out that
­these sums ­were the origin of the Cameron ­family fortune, including
the financial and real estate portfolio it still held at the beginning
of the twenty-­first ­century, and that the same could be said about
many other British f­amily fortunes. Nothing came of the protest,
however, and the situation remains unchanged.
A similar compensation was paid to slaveholders a­ fter the French
abolition of 1848, and the corresponding archives have also been
studied and put online.9 For most of the “liberal” elites of the period,
the princi­ple ­behind this kind of compensation was obvious and in-
contestable. For example, during the French debates of the 1840s
Alexis de Tocqueville won fame for proposals he considered both
generous (to slaveholders) and ingenious. Part of the cost would be
borne by the Trea­sury, and another part would be borne by the slaves
themselves, who would work for low wages for ten or twenty years to
reimburse the difference. Victor Schoelcher, who is still remembered

8. N. Draper, The Price of Emancipation: Slave-­Ownership, Compensation and

British Society at the End of Slavery (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010);
C. Hall, N. Draper, K. McClelland, K. Donington, and R. Lang, Legacies of British Slave-­
Ownership: Colonial Slavery and the Formation of Victorian Britain (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2014). The database LBS (Legacies of British Slave-­Ownership)
is available at http://­w ww​.­ucl​.a­ c​.­u k​/­lbs​/­.
9. The website Esclavages et indemnités (http://­esclavage​-­indemnites​.­f r), created in
2021 by Myriam Cottias and her team, includes the complete database of the indemni-
ties paid to slaveholders a­ fter the agreement with Haiti in 1825 and the abolition of 1848.
78 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

as a ­great abolitionist, said he was embarrassed by the compensations,

but that it was impossible to proceed other­wise once slavery had been
enshrined in a ­legal framework.10 In other words, if slaveholders had
been despoiled of their property without compensation, then what
could be done with ­those who had sold their slaves a few years ­earlier,
and now had a portfolio of financial securities, a château near Bor-
deaux, or an apartment building in Paris? W ­ asn’t one g­ oing to end
up putting in question the ­whole social order and the system of pri-
vate property? In fact, retrospectively, it would have been pos­si­ble to
believe a just abolition would have implied compensation for slaves
(and not for their masters) on the basis of their de­cades of mistreat-
ment and unpaid l­ abor. This compensation would have been financed
by every­one who had been enriched by slavery, directly or indirectly—­
that is, by all the wealthy property ­owners of the period. Indeed,
during the Revolution some actors, like the marquis de Condorcet or
Thomas Paine, had defended (without success) the idea of an aboli-
tion with compensation for slaves, in the form of a pension paid by
the former masters or of a piece of land. But that was not at all the
view defended by the dominant elites, who in considering slaves as
property swore only by absolute re­spect for property rights and pre-
ferred not to open that dangerous Pandora’s box.
In addition to indemnification of property ­owners, the decrees of
abolition promulgated on 27 April 1848 include articles “punishing
vagabondage and begging while calling for disciplinary workshops in
the colonies” that ­were intended to ensure cheap ­labor for the planters.
In other words, not only ­were compensation of slaves and access to

10. Lamartine, who was also an abolitionist, made this point forcefully before the
Chamber of Deputies: “We have to accord an indemnity to the colonists for the portion
of their l­egal property that was taken from them in the form of their slaves: we ­w ill
never see this differently. Only revolutions dispossess without compensation. Legisla-
tors do not act in that way: they change, they transform, they never ruin; what­ever the
origin might be, they take established rights seriously.” Chamber of Deputies, sessions
of April 22, 1835 and May 25, 1836. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 220–226, quotation on
225. On ­t hese debates, see C. Oudin-­Bastide and P. Steiner, Calcul et morale. Coûts de
l’esclavage et valeur de l’émancipation (xviiie–­xixe siècles) (Paris: Albin Michel, 2015).
 The Question of Reparations 79

parcels of land not considered, but Schoelcher’s emancipation was ac-

companied by a system of quasi-­forced ­labor, making it pos­si­ble to
keep the ex-­slaves u
­ nder the control of the planters and the state au-
thorities for additional de­cades. On La Ré­union, the prefect immedi-
ately explained how the decrees of abolition would be implemented:
the former slaves had to pre­sent a long-­term l­abor contract, e­ ither as
a worker on the plantations or as a domestic employee; if they had
neither, they would be arrested for vagabondage and sent to the dis-
ciplinary workshops provided for in the decrees.
In 2020, some observers in the United Kingdom and France ­were
astonished when statues of slave traders or of p ­ eople like Schoelcher,
who had indemnified slaveholders, ­were pulled down as a conse-
quence of the Black Lives M ­ atter movement. Remembering the his-
torical injustices that took place during each country’s abolition may
help us to understand this anger better, and also to reflect on solu-
tions. During the debates preceding the vote on the French law of 2001
enshrining Slave Remembrance Day and recognizing the slave trade
and slavery as “crimes against humanity,” the deputy from French
Guiana, Christiane Taubira, proposed in vain to the majority that they
accept the princi­ple of a reparation and create a committee entrusted
with examining how it might be implemented.11 T ­ oday, beyond the
financial reparation owed to Haiti, the principal question remains that
of agrarian reform in La Ré­u nion, Martinique, Guadeloupe, and
French Guiana, so as to fi­nally allow ­those descended from slaves to
gain access to parcels of land when, at pre­sent, owner­ship of land and
financial assets remains largely the prerogative of Whites, some of
whom are descended from families of planters who benefited from the
indemnities of 1848. No ­matter how complex, it seems to me that this
question must be answered.

11. The proposed article 5 of Act 2001-434 in France, Taubira’s Law, provided that:
“­There be established a committee of qualified persons entrusted with determining the
damage suffered and examining the conditions of reparation due in consideration of
this crime. The jurisdictions and missions of this committee are to be set by decree in
the State Council.”
80 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

The United States: The Long March of a

Slaveholding Republic
We come now to the case of the United States, where the debate on
reparations is particularly intense. Slavery has played a central role
in the development of the United States, which at its creation resem-
bled a genuine slaveholding republic. Of the fifteen presidents who
preceded Lincoln, no less than eleven owned slaves, including Wash-
ington and Jefferson, both of whom w ­ ere natives of V
­ irginia, the
pulsing heart of the young federation. The slave system developed
rapidly between 1800 and 1860. But the Northeast and especially the
Midwest (from which Lincoln came) developed even more rapidly.
­These two areas ­were based on a dif­fer­ent economic model, whose
foundation was the colonization by ­free workers of the lands in the
West through displacement of Indigenous ­peoples, and thus ­these re-
gions tried to block the expansion of slavery to the new territories.
­After his victory in 1860, the Republican Lincoln was ready to ne-
gotiate with the South a peaceful and gradual end to slavery, with in-
demnification of slaveholders, as in the British and French abolitions
of 1833 and 1848. Moreover, plans for ending slavery had been pro-
posed in the 1820s by Jefferson and Madison: according to them, it
would suffice to transfer most of the land in the West to the supporters
of slavery, who would thus become large landowners in the new ter-
ritories, while at the same time sending the slaves back to Africa,
­because they feared it would be difficult for slaves to live alongside
their former masters. In real­ity, the size of the transfers envisaged
made this option unrealistic.12 The Southerners ­were aware of this,
and like some of the White colonists in South Africa and Algeria in

12. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 235–238. A total compensation would have required
a transfer on the order of a year of US national income, or between three and four times
more than the federal debt arising from the Civil War (which was, however, devastating).
The magnitude of the phenomenon of slavery in the United States made a peaceful resolu-
tion with the o
­ wners infeasible. The proj­ect of transferring slaves to Africa ended with
the troubled creation of Liberia.
 The Question of Reparations 81

the twentieth ­century, they preferred to play the secession card in the
hope of saving their world. The Northerners refused to accept the
South’s departure from the Union, and the Civil War began in 1861.
Four years l­ ater, with 600,000 dead (as many as the cumulative total
of all the other conflicts in which the country has taken part, including
the two world wars, K ­ orea, Vietnam, and Iraq), the fighting ended
with the Confederate surrender in April 1865. But some Northerners
did not consider Black ­people ready to become citizens, and still less
property o ­ wners. Whites in the South imposed a strict system of ra-
cial segregation that allowed them to remain in power for nearly an-
other ­century, ­until the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964. In the
meantime, the United States became the primary military power in
the world, and was able to end destructive cycles of nationalism and
genocide among Eu­ro­pean colonial powers between 1914 and 1945.
Demo­crats, who had historically been the party of slavery in the
United States, succeeded in becoming the party of the New Deal.13
Driven by competition from communists and by the mobilization of
Black ­people, they conceded civil rights.
­After the damage done by secessionists during the Civil War, on
the one hand it would have seemed incongruous to pay compensa-
tion to slaveholders, and unsurprisingly, all proposals of this kind
­were abandoned. On the other hand, in the last months of the war, in
January 1865, the Northerners promised the emancipated slaves that
­a fter the war was won, they would each receive “forty acres and a
mule.” The idea was to motivate them to join the fight, to compensate
them for de­cades of unpaid ­labor, and to permit them to turn ­toward
a ­f uture as ­f ree workers. Had it been a­ dopted, this program would
have represented an agrarian re­distribution of ­great scope, at the ex-
pense, especially, of major slaveholders. But as soon as the fighting

13. On the transformations of the structure of po­liti­cal conflict in the United States
during the period of Reconstruction, see the fascinating book by N. Barreyre, L’Or et la
Liberté. Une histoire spatiale des États-­Unis après la guerre de Sécession (Paris: EHESS,
2014). Compare N. Maggor, Brahmin Capitalism: Frontiers of Wealth and Pop­u­lism in
Amer­i­ca’s First Gilded Age (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2017).
82 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

s­ topped, the promise was forgotten; no law providing for compensa-

tion was ever passed, and “forty acres and a mule” became a symbol
of Northerners’ deception and hy­poc­risy (to the point that the Black
filmmaker Spike Lee ironically made it the name of his production
com­pany).
However, the question of reparations remains on the ­table. In 2021,
the city of Evanston, Illinois, ­adopted a program of reparations to be
paid to the Black population, with individual payments of as much
as $25,000 in order to help purchase housing. That may seem modest,
given the im­mense concentration of wealth in the United States, and
in par­tic­u­lar the size of racial inequalities in terms of assets and the
magnitude of the damages suffered (during slavery and then segrega-
tion), but this may be a start.14 Discussions are ongoing at the federal
level, where the comparison is often made with the 1988 law indem-
nifying Japanese-­Americans, which seemed inconceivable for de­cades
before it was fi­nally passed and implemented. The march ­toward
equality and justice continues.

Postslavery Colonialism and the Question

of Forced ­Labor
In addition to the question of reparations, colonial heritage in its en-
tirety must be reexamined. Generally speaking, if we amass the avail-
able sources on the distribution of wealth, we see that slaveholding
and colonial socie­ties are among the most inegalitarian in history (see
Figure 12). For the slaveholding islands such as Saint-­Domingue, the
historical apogee was reached on the eve of the French Revolution.
According to the accounts of the plantations and the archives at our
disposal, the slaveholders, colonists, métis, and ­free Blacks (10 ­percent
of the population) ­were appropriating about 80 ­percent of production,

14. See, for example, the proposals made by W. A. Darity and A. K. Mullen, From
­ ere to Equality: Reparations for Black Americans in the Twenty-­First C
H ­ entury (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2020).
 The Question of Reparations 83

90%
Top decile share of total income

80%
70%
60%
50%
40%
30%
20%
10%
0%
80

20

20

10

20

20

30

50

80
19

20

20

19

20

20

19

19

17
en

pe

es

pe

il

st

ria

ti
az

ai
ric
Ea
at
ed

ro

ro

ge

H
Br

Af
St
Eu

Eu

Al
Sw

h
dl
d

ut
id
te

So
M
ni
U

figure 12. ​Extreme In­equality of Income in Historical Perspective: The Peak of

Colonial and Slaveholding Societies
Over all of the socie­t ies observed, the share of total income ­going to the top decile
(the highest 10  ­percent of income) varied from 23  ­percent in Sweden in 1980 to
81  ­percent in Saint-­Domingue (Haiti) in 1780 (which included 90  ­percent slaves).
Colonial socie­ties like Algeria in 1930 or South Africa in 1950 had some of the
highest levels of in­equality observed in history, with about 70 ­percent of total in-
come ­going to the top decile, which included the Eu­ro­pean population. Sources and
series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

while the food and clothing provided to the slaves (90 ­percent of the
population) absorbed scarcely 20  ­percent.15 In theory, it could be
­imagined that in the ­future, hyper-­technological socie­ties might suc-
ceed in establishing an even more extreme level of in­equality: in
princi­ple, material abundance makes greater extraction pos­si­ble, pro-
vided that the class of techno-­billionaires in power in t­hese hy­po­
thet­i­cal socie­ties is able to develop adequate tools, in terms of both

15. Of the 80 ­percent of production appropriated by slaveholders, colonists, métis,

and f­ ree Blacks, the equivalent of about 55 ­percent was exported to the benefit of the
­owners (less than 1 ­percent of the population), who used it to finance accumulations
and consumption in metropolitan France and in the other colonies, and 25 ­percent was
accumulated or consumed on site. See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 218–220.
84 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

repression and persuasion. Up to now, however, this has not tran­

spired, and the islands of enslaved ­people in the French West Indies
between 1780 and 1790 continue to hold the prize for in­equality in
world history.16
We w ­ ill also see that colonial socie­ties such as French Algeria in
1930 or South Africa in 1950 are characterized by levels of in­equality
that are certainly more extreme than ­t hose found in slaveholding
socie­ties, but they are not totally unrelated (with part of the upper de-
cile reaching 60–70 ­percent of total income, and not 80 ­percent). Put
another way, in practice, ­there is a continuum between ­these dif­fer­ent
types of inegalitarian systems (see Figure 13).17 In postslavery colonial
socie­ties, the mechanisms of in­equality take dif­fer­ent forms, in par­
tic­u­lar through a l­egal, social, fiscal, and educational system that is
profoundly discriminatory. Research like that of Emmanuelle Saada
on the French Empire has shown how u ­ ntil the ­middle of the twen-
tieth ­century, the colonial powers developed specific ­legal systems in
their empires allowing them to grant rights based on ethno-­racial cat-
egories that they set about codifying with precision, even though
with the abolition of slavery t­ hese categories w ­ ere supposed to have
been eliminated from metropolitan France. In the case of the Dutch
18

16. ­Here we come back to the distinction between the re­distribution of property and
the re­distribution of income (see Chapter 2). Property re­distribution may be much more
extreme, with one part ­going to the richest 10 ­percent, which often reaches 80–90 ­percent,
as in France in 1914; income re­distribution is more complicated (in part ­because of the
constraint of subsistence) and requires a much harsher system of domination.
17. Studies have shown that the in­equality of incomes in Ré­u nion in 1960 was close
to the level observed in French Algeria and in South Africa. See Piketty, Capital and
Ideology, 263–264; Y. Govind, “Post-­colonial Trends of Income In­equality: Evidence
from the Overseas Departments of France,” June 2020, WID.world; F. Alvaredo, D.
Cogneau, and T. Piketty, “In­equality ­u nder Colonial Rule: Evidence from French Al-
geria, Cameroon, Tunisia, Vietnam and Comparison with British Colonies 1920–1960,”
July 2020, WID.world.
18. The decree of 1928 “defining the status of persons of mixed parentage (métis)
born in Indochina whose ­legal parents are unknown,” thus granted status as French to
anyone who had at least one parent “presumed to be of the French race.” This led courts
to examine the physical and racial characteristics of the plaintiffs. See E. Saada, Em-
pire’s ­Children: Race, Filiation, and Citizenship in the French Colonies, trans. Art Gold-
hammer (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), 1.
 The Question of Reparations 85

80%
Share of each class in total income

70%

60% Top Top

10% 10%
50%
Top
40% 10%

30%
Next
40%
20%
Next
10% Bottom Bottom 40%
Bottom Next
50% 50% 40%
50%
0%
France 1910 Algeria 1930 Haiti 1780

figure 13. ​The Distribution of Income in Metropolitan France and in Its

Colonies
In 1780, the share of the highest 10 ­percent of total income exceeded 80 ­percent in
Saint-­Domingue (Haiti), which was at that time composed of about 90  ­percent
slaves and 10 ­percent Eu­ro­pean colonists, as contrasted with more than 65 ­percent
in Algeria in 1930 (which was then composed of about 90 ­percent “Algerian Mus-
lims” and 10 ­percent Eu­ro­pean colonists), and around 50 ­percent in metropolitan
France in 1910. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

East Indies, Denys Lombard has shown the harmful role played by
the colonial statute of 1854, which de­cided to strictly separate “natives”
and “oriental foreigners” (a category in which vari­ous Chinese, Indian,
and Arab minorities ­were placed).19 In South Africa, discrimination
took an extremely brutal form. With the Native Land Act of 1913, the
Black population was de facto confined to reserves representing
7 ­percent of South Africa’s territory. Black workers w ­ ere forbidden to

19. This separation helped permanently establish identities and antagonisms, even
though for more than a millennium, Insulindia had been characterized by a mixture of
Hindu, Confucian, Buddhist, and Muslim cultures that was hardly in conformity with
the martial view taken by the colonial powers. See D. Lombard, Le Carrefour javanais.
Essai d’histoire globale (Paris: EHESS, 1990). On the antagonism between Buddhists
and Muslims in Burma, see J. Lavialle-­Prélois, “De la colonisation à la légitimation:
l’autre ‘terroriste’ en Arakan,” Journal des anthropologues 154–155, no. 3 (2018): 63–83.
On the colonial rigidification of “ethnic” identities in Africa (Mali, Rwanda, Burundi,
Congo), see J.-­L . Amselle and E. M’Bokolo, Au coeur de l’ethnie. Ethnies, tribalisme et
État en Afrique (Paris: La Découverte, 1985).
86 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

leave their zone of employment without a special pass. ­These mea­sures

­were further radicalized with apartheid, which was officially insti-
tuted in 1948 and implemented u ­ ntil 1990. The ­legal systems in force
­were not always as extreme as in the South African case, but in the
vari­ous colonial contexts, the colonized populations ­were de facto
systematically deprived of access to employment, education, and
property equal to that enjoyed by colonists.
We must also remember that in practice ­there is a continuum be-
tween pure slavery and the vari­ous forms of more or less forced l­ abor.
­After the abolition of slavery, the British and French authorities de-
veloped new systems allowing them to bring in workers from more
distant sources, in par­tic­u­lar from India in the case of Ré­union and
Mauritius, by means of long-­term contracts (in the French case they
­were called “engagés,” in the British case, “indentured workers”). For
Indian workers, this “commitment” consisted in paying over a long
period (for example, ten years) a large part of their wages to their em-
ployers to reimburse the latter for the cost of transporting them. In
the event that an employee’s per­for­mance was deemed insufficient or,
worse yet, lacking in discipline, the repayment obligation could be
prolonged by ten additional years or more. The l­egal archives have
been preserved, and it is evident that in a context in which the jurid-
ical system is strongly biased in f­ avor of the employers, it can lead to
forms of exploitation and arbitrariness that are, to be sure, dif­fer­ent
from hard-­core slavery, but not infinitely distant from it. The avail-
able sources also clearly show how employers and courts negotiate,
so to speak, the transformation of the system of discipline at work.
The property ­owners gradually agree to reduce the use of corporal
punishment, which was common ­under slavery, but on the condition
that the ­legal authorities help them impose financial sanctions that
result in similar subjugation.20

20. A. Stanziani, Les Métamorphoses du travail contraint. Une histoire globale,

xviiie–­xixe siècles (Paris: Presses de Sciences Po, 2020).
 The Question of Reparations 87

A revealing case is that of the forced ­labor practiced in a ­legal form

(or at least in a form that tried to make itself look ­legal) in the French
colonies from 1912 to 1946. At the end of the nineteenth c­ entury, when
Eu­ro­pe­ans ­were beginning to penetrate into the interior of the African
continent to exploit its natu­ral resources, they resorted largely to
forced ­labor, ­under conditions that ­were often very brutal. Contro-
versies erupted over multiple reports of atrocities committed in the
Belgian Congo, which since 1885 had been the personal property of
King Leopold II. The rubber industry was based on particularly vio-
lent methods that sought to exploit and discipline the local ­labor
force: villages w­ ere burned, hands ­were mutilated. Fi­nally, the Eu­ro­
pe­ans demanded the transfer of the territory to Belgium in 1908, in
the hope that parliamentary oversight would make this regime less
barbaric. Abuses committed in the French colonies ­were regularly
denounced, and it was in this context that the Minister of the Colo-
nies published texts that sought to define a l­egal framework for the
“ser­vices” (more commonly called corvées) required of the inhabitants
of French Africa.
The logic claimed to be unanswerable: the colonial administration
was based on the payment of taxes by all, but some natives lacked suf-
ficient resources to pay ­these taxes; consequently, they ­were also re-
quired to pay a supplementary tax-­in-­k ind, in the form of unpaid
­labor for the local colonial authorities. In practice, t­ hese corvées ­were
levied on top of very high taxes in cash and in kind (taken from the
harvest) already paid by the colonized population. Also, the use of un-
paid ­labor paved the way for all sorts of abuses, and was tantamount
to legalizing them in advance. The decree of 1912 “regulating natives’
ser­vices in the colonies and territories of French West Africa” estab-
lished a few safeguards, but they ­were ­limited and poorly monitored.21
Forced ­labor caused a scandal during the tragic construction of the
Congo-­Ocean Railway between 1921 and 1934. The administration of

21. M. van Waijenburg, “Financing the African Colonial State: The Revenue Impera-
tive and Forced ­Labor,” Journal of Economic History 78, no. 1 (2018): 40–80.
88 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

French Equatorial Africa had initially promised to provide about

8,000 local workers, which it thought it could “recruit” along a
hundred-­mile-­long strip of territory adjoining the rail line. But the
exceptionally high mortality on the job and the latter’s proven dan-
gers caused the recruits to flee, and the colonial authorities resorted
to seeking “adult males” at the other end of the M
­ iddle Congo. Starting
in 1925, they had to or­ga­nize raids into Cameroon and Chad. Reports
flowed in regarding the terrible expense of ­human lives denounced
in André Gide’s famous Voyage au Congo in 1927 and in Albert Londre’s
book Terre d’ébène in 1929.
International pressure on France grew, in par­tic­u­lar on the part
of the brand-­new International ­Labour Organ­ization (ILO), which
was founded in 1919, at the same time as the League of Nations, and
whose constitution began with the following preamble: “Whereas uni-
versal and lasting peace can be founded only if it is based upon social
justice; And whereas conditions of l­ abour exist involving such injus-
tice, hardship, and privation to large numbers of ­people as to produce
unrest so ­great that the peace and harmony of the world are imper-
iled; and an improvement of t­ hose conditions is urgently required . . . ;
Whereas also the failure of any nation to adopt humane conditions
of l­abour is an obstacle in the way of other nations which desire to
improve the conditions in their own countries.”
­There follows a series of recommendations and reports regarding
the length of the workday and its dangers, the setting of wages, and
rights of workers and their representatives. However, the ILO lacked
the means and power to impose sanctions to ensure that its recom-
mendations w ­ ere implemented. In the course of the 1920s, the ILO
repeatedly called upon France to cease its practice of unpaid l­ abor and
forced transfer of workers from one site to another, which amounted,
according to the international organ­ization, to a kind of slave l­abor.
But the French authorities rejected t­ hese accusations, emphasizing the
fact that they had just extended to all “natives” (and not just the most
“evolved”—­the term used by the French colonial administration to
designate the small minority of natives who had a­ dopted a “Eu­ro­pean”
 The Question of Reparations 89

way of life) the option of paying off their ­labor obligation with cash.
Another of the French administration’s favorite arguments was that
many of the alleged offenses, particularly on the Congo-­Ocean Railway,
concerned not forced ­labor but rather military conscription, which was
one of the few forms of unpaid ­labor authorized by the ILO, on the
condition, however, that the military system not be misused to carry
out civilian tasks. In this case, the ILO suspected France of ­doing just
that. Outraged by such an infringement on what they considered to
be their “national sovereignty,” the French authorities refused to ratify
the ILO’s convention in 1930. That is why unpaid, forced l­abor, in the
form of ser­vices and conscriptions, continued in the French colonies
up to the eve of World War II, for example on the cocoa plantations in
Ivory Coast. The decree of 1912 was fi­nally revoked only in 1946, in re-
sponse to explicit pressure exercised by Félix Houphouët-­Boigny, the
­future president of Ivory Coast, at a time when France was suddenly
ready to make any concession to avoid dismantling its empire.

France, a Colonial Republic That ­Doesn’t

Know It Is One
One of the most insidious and hypocritical forms of discrimination
in colonial contexts, as in other inegalitarian systems, concerns ac-
cess to education. In the southern United States, the prohibition on
Black ­children attending the same schools as White ­children was one
of the central pillars of the system of l­egal racial discrimination that
was in force u­ ntil 1964–1965. This discrimination was made illegal, but
US society still bears the marks of t­hese very profound racial and
territorial inequalities, which have still not been completely erased.
In Eu­rope, and especially in France, it is sometimes i­magined that
this heavy legacy of l­egal racial discrimination in no way concerns
continental Eu­rope. In France, its “republican” heritage and “re-
publican” values are ritually invoked, as if the fact that during the
1870s the vari­ous monarchical and imperial regimes w ­ ere definitively
90 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

replaced by a republic sufficed to guarantee re­spect for equal rights

in general, and racial equality in par­tic­u­lar.
In real­ity, the Third Republic did not hesitate to extract wealth from
Haiti for de­cades, thereby prolonging u ­ ntil 1950 the tribute imposed
by the monarchical state in 1825. It had no more qualms regarding the
institution of a system of forced l­abor in 1912, in the form of “ser­vices”
to be performed by the “natives” in the African colonies, a system that
persisted u ­ ntil 1946. In Algeria, as in the rest of the French colonial
empire, the republican state imposed a regime based explic­itly on
profound racial and ethno-­religious discrimination u ­ ntil 1962. Con-
cretely, up to the last day of the colonial empire, “Algerian Muslims”
and other Indigenous populations never had the same rights as the
colonists, ­whether po­liti­cal rights or social and economic rights.22 In
par­tic­u­lar, the school system remained deeply segregated right up to
the end, in the sense that the schools open to the colonists and the
natives ­were usually strictly separated, in accord with modalities that,
if not exactly the same as in the southern United States, w ­ ere hardly
more egalitarian. If the United States was a slaveholding republic,
France was for a long time a colonial republic, or, if one prefers, a re-
public at the head of a colonial empire. The two republics or­ga­nized
the territories they controlled on an explic­itly racial and discrimina-
tory basis ­until the 1960s. If we want to escape this heritage someday,
it would be better to start by trying to understand its importance.
Recent studies have enabled us to improve our comprehension of
the structure of the colonial bud­gets used during French colonization
and our recognition of ­these inequalities.23 In Morocco, the primary

22. To be sure, between 1946 and 1962, the colonized populations had the right to
seats in the National Assembly, but on a numerical basis that bore no relationship to
their demographic weight. See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 293–303; and the fasci-
nating F. Cooper, Citizenship between Empire and Nation: Remaking France and French
Africa 1945–1960 (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2014).
23. D. Cogneau, Y. Dupraz, and S. Mesplé-­Somps, “Fiscal Capacity and Dualism in
Colonial States: The French Empire 1830–1962,” Journal of Economic History 81, no. 2
(2021): 441–480; E. Huillery, “The Black Man’s Burden: The Costs of the Colonization of
French West Africa,” Journal of Economic History 74, no. 1 (2014): 1–38; M. Woker, “Em-
 The Question of Reparations 91

and secondary schools reserved for Eu­ro­pe­ans received 79 ­percent of

the total expenditures for education in 1925 (even though Eu­ro­pe­ans
constituted only 4 ­percent of the population). In the same year, less
than 5 ­percent of native ­children in North Africa and Indochina ­were
enrolled in school, and less than 2 ­percent in French West Africa. It
is striking to note that this g­ reat in­equality in expenditures seems not
to have decreased a­ fter the end of colonization. In Algeria, bud­get
documents show that the schools reserved for colonists received
78 ­percent of the total expenditures for education in 1925, a propor-
tion that ­rose to 82 ­percent in 1955, when the fighting for in­de­pen­dence
had already begun. The colonial system was so inegalitarian in its
functioning that reform seemed largely impossible. Let us add that
the fiscal system used to finance t­ hese expenses was itself unfair and
regressive, and that it bore essentially on the natives (taxes on con-
sumption, indirect taxes, and so on). In short, the colonized popula-
tions paid heavy taxes in order to finance expenditures that benefited
principally t­ hose who had come to dominate them po­liti­cally and
militarily.
The educational system implemented in continental France at the
beginning of the twentieth c­ entury was, it is true, also extremely hi-
erarchized and inegalitarian, and in large mea­sure it has never ceased
to be so. But it is impor­tant to realize that that is incommensurate
with the level of in­equality in educational means that characterized
the colonial context (see Figure 14). In 1910, educational stratification
was very ­great in France: the disadvantaged classes rarely went be-
yond the primary school certificate. If we gather together the avail-
able bud­getary data, we find that the 10 ­percent of an age group ben-
efiting from the largest educational investment (by reaching secondary
school or, more rarely, higher education) received about 38 ­percent of
the total expenditure, as compared with only 26 ­percent for the least
educated 50 ­percent of the age group. This is a considerable in­equality,

pire of In­equality: The Politics of Taxation in the French Colonial Empire, 1900–1950s”
(PhD diss., Columbia University, 2020).
 92 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

80%
Share of educational expenditures
received, by most favored status
70%

60% Top
10%
50%

40%

30% Top
10% Next
20% Next Bottom 40%
Bottom 40% 50% Bottom
50% Top 50%
10% 10% Next
40%
0%
France 1910 France 2020 Algeria 1950

figure 14. ​Colonies for Colonists: The In­equality of Educational Investment in

Historical Perspective
In Algeria in 1950, the most favored 10  ­percent (the colonizers) benefited from
82 ­percent of the total expenditure for primary, secondary, and higher education.
The comparable figure for France was 38  ­percent in 1910 and 20  ­percent in 2020,
which is, nonetheless, twice as high as their share in the population. Sources and
series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

insofar as the second group is by construction five times more nu-

merous than the first. In other terms, the most favored 10 ­percent of
the c­ hildren benefited from an individual educational investment al-
most eight times higher than the least favored 50 ­percent. In­equality
in expenditure for education has decreased considerably between 1910
and 2020, even if the established system continues to invest almost
three times more in public funds per student for the most favored
10 ­percent than it does for the least favored 50 ­percent, which is rela-
tively astonishing for a system that is supposed to reduce social repro-
duction, the tendency for unequal classes to transfer their status
from one generation to the next. We ­shall return to this point. At this
stage, let us note simply that educational inequalities in colonial socie­
ties like French Algeria ­were of an incomparably greater magnitude:
the ratio between the expenditure for the education of the colonists’
­children and the expenditure for the c­ hildren of the colonized was
forty to one.
 The Question of Reparations 93

The Question of Reparations: Rethinking

Justice on a Transnational Scale
Let’s sum up. The current distribution of wealth among the countries
of the world and within countries bears the deep mark of the slave-
holding, colonial past. Knowledge of this past is indispensable for
improving our understanding of the origins and injustices of the
pre­sent economic system, but in itself it does not suffice to formu-
late solutions and remedies. The question is complex and requires
thorough, detailed examination. Sometimes, the solution involves
explicit reparations, as it does in the case of the French debt to Haiti
(where they seem inevitable), either agrarian reform and access to
land in certain territories, or indemnities in the United States. Re-
jecting any discussion of reparations, even when other spoliations
and injustices that are just as far in the past continue to be indem-
nified, considerably complicates the development of new norms of
universal justice that are acceptable to all. It is time to understand
that the logic of remedial justice and universalist justice are comple-
mentary and have to move forward in concert, the one supporting
the other.
For all that, it is very clear that reparations alone ­will not allow us
to ­settle all the prob­lems. To repair the damage done by racism and
colonialism, we also have to change the economic system on a sys-
tematic basis, by reducing inequalities and ensuring that every­one has
the most egalitarian access pos­si­ble to education, employment, and
property, in­de­pen­dently of his or her origins. To fight discrimination,
we must also pursue policies that are as ambitious, coherent, and ver-
ifiable as pos­si­ble, but without rigidifying identities, which are al-
ways plural and multidimensional. We ­shall see to what extent it is
pos­si­ble, on the basis of the experience accumulated thus far, to find
a balance between social criteria and criteria related to origins. For
similar reasons, we have to go beyond the opposition between re­
distribution at the national level and re­distribution at the interna-
tional level. In par­t ic­u ­lar, each country, each citizen on the planet,
94 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

should have some part of the tax revenues derived from multinational
companies and the world’s billionaires: first, ­because each ­human
being should have a minimal equal right to health care, education, and
development; and second, b ­ ecause the rich countries’ prosperity
would not exist without the poor countries. The growth of wealth in
the Western world, like that in Japan or China, has long been based
on the international division of ­labor and the feverish exploitation of
natu­ral and ­human resources worldwide. All t­ hese accumulations of
wealth that have taken place on our planet depend on a global eco-
nomic system, and it is at that level that the question of justice should
be raised and the march t­ oward equality pursued. Before g­ oing fur-
ther in t­ hese vari­ous directions, we must nonetheless arrive at a better
understanding of how the inequalities of status and class have been
transformed since the eigh­teenth ­century, on the global scale and in
par­tic­u­lar within Western countries.
 •
5

R E V O L U T I O N , S TAT U S , A N D C L A S S

The slave revolt in Saint-­Domingue in 1791 paved the way for the end
of slavery and colonialism, but the ­battle for racial equality is still
being fought. The same is true of inequalities in status in general: in
1789 the French Revolution took an essential step by abolishing the
nobility’s privileges, but it did not do away with the multiple privi-
leges of money—­far from it. We s­ hall see that u
­ ntil the beginning of
the twentieth ­century, electoral systems based on wealth qualifica-
tions ­were implemented in many countries, such as Sweden. ­Other
forms of plutocratic systems, slightly toned down, still prevail in many
forms ­today, w­ hether in influencing elections or in concentrating
power among stockholders, to the detriment of more competent per-
sons involved in the pro­cess of production.

The End of Privileges and Unequal Status?

According to a rather widespread fairy tale, l­egal equality has been
definitively established in Western countries since the Enlightenment
and the “Atlantic revolutions.” In this narrative, the French Revo-
lution and the abolition of aristocratic privileges during the night of
August 4, 1789, appear to be foundational events. The real­ity is ob-
viously more complex. The republics of France and the United States
­were in essence slaveholding, colonial, and legally discriminatory
­until the 1960s. The same was true of the British and Dutch monar-
chies. Almost everywhere, the equality of rights proclaimed at the end
96 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

of the eigh­teenth ­century is above all an equality of White men, and

especially of property-­owning White men.
Although the abandonment of privileges during the night of 4
August remains a seminal event, it must be seen as a long, unfinished
­battle for equality. ­There would have been no night of August 4 without
the taking of the Bastille on July 14, and especially without the peasant
revolts in the summer of 1789. During ­these revolts farmers and la-
borers attacked the lords and their châteaux, burning their titles to
property. This convinced the deputies gathered in Paris that they had
to act quickly to do away with the despised institutions of feudalism.
­These revolts followed de­cades of peasant rebellions that the divided
government proved increasingly unable to control—­the occupation
of parcels of land and common goods, vio­lence directed against
landowners—­particularly during the summer of 1788, when the ques-
tion of the election of delegates to the Estates-­General was fi­nally
clearly raised in a nearly insurrectional atmosphere.1
We must also emphasize that if the French nobility definitively lost
its fiscal, po­liti­cal, and jurisdictional privileges in 1789, it retained for
a long time afterward a privileged social position as a class of property
­owners. By studying ­family names in the Paris inheritance archives,
we have found that while the nobility represented barely 1 ­percent of
the population of Paris in the nineteenth c­ entury, between 1830 and
1840 it included no less than 40 to 45 ­percent of the wealthiest—­just
slightly less than it did on the eve of the Revolution. Not u ­ ntil the
de­cades between 1880 and 1910 did the prominence of the nobility
among the largest estates fi­nally decrease (see Figure 15).
This per­sis­tence is explained by several ­factors. Exiled in the neigh-
boring Eu­ro­pean monarchies between 1789 and 1815, the nobility

1. J. Nicolas, La Rébellion française. Mouvements populaires et conscience sociale,

1661–1789 (Paris: Gallimard, 2002), which counts eighty-­seven anti-­seigneurial rebel-
lions between 1730 and 1759 and 246 between 1760 and 1789. Compare G. Lemarchand,
Paysans et seigneurs en Eu­rope. Une histoire comparée, xvie–­xixe siècles (Rennes:
Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2011), which emphasizes the role of peasant revolts on
the Eu­ro­pean scale, par­t ic­u ­larly in the years preceding the wave of revolutions in 1848.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 97

55%
50%
45%
40%
35%
30%
25%
20%
15%
10%
5%
0%
10

10
80

90

00

20

30

40

50

60

70

80

90

00
18

19
17

17

18

18

18

19
18

18

18

18

18

18
Share of noble names among the Share of noble names among the
largest 0.1 percent of inheritances largest 1 percent of inheritances
Share of noble names among Share of noble names among
all inheritances total deceased

figure 15. ​The Nobility in Pa­ri­sian Inheritances, 1780–1910

The share of noble names among the 0.1 ­percent of the largest inheritances in Paris
fell from 50 ­percent to 25 ­percent between 1780 and 1810, before climbing to about
40–45 ­percent during the period of the censitary monarchies (1815–1848), then de-
clining to about 10 ­percent at the end of the nineteenth ­century and the beginning
of the twentieth. In comparison, noble names still represented less than 2 ­percent of
the total number of deaths between 1780 and 1910. Sources and series: piketty.pse.
ens.fr/equality

returned en masse to France in 1815 and benefited from very favorable

mea­sures during the period of the monarchies, in which electors had
to meet a certain tax threshold (1815–1848). We think especially of the
emblematic law of the “billion for the emigrés” that transferred to
­these nobles considerable sums (almost 15 ­percent of the national in-
come at the time, financed by taxes and public debt) to compensate
them for the lands and rents lost ­u nder the Revolution. Debated
during the first days of the Restoration, this law was a­ dopted in 1825,
­under the government led by the Count de Villèle, who in that same
year imposed on Haiti the indemnity in f­avor of the slaveowners
(many of whom ­were aristocrats).
98 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

More generally, we must emphasize that the re­distributions car-

ried out ­under the Revolution ­were more ­limited than is sometimes
­imagined. Church properties, which represented almost 25 ­percent of
the kingdom’s total real estate (including the value of ecclesiastical
tithes) ­were, of course, nationalized without compensation. But in-
stead of being redistributed to the landless, they w ­ ere auctioned off
to benefit t­ hose who had the means to buy them. Abbé Siéyès, who
had sided with the Third Estate in his famous pamphlet published
in January 1789,2 was scandalized by this operation, which would, ac-
cording to him, only enrich property ­owners, noble or bourgeois, while
at the same time drying up financing for the Church’s charitable
works, which included help for the poorest ­people, schools, and hos-
pitals. In ­England, the dissolution of the monasteries, decreed by
Henry VIII in 1536, had also strengthened the property-­owning class.
Meanwhile, the House of Lords was becoming an almost exclusively
noble assembly, whereas the clergy had previously occupied half
the seats. In France as in ­England, we thus move gradually from
a  trifunctional ideology to an ideology that can be described as
“property-­owning” or simply as “cap­i­tal­ist.” In a trifunctional ide-
ology, the position of the two dominant classes, the clergy and the
nobility, is supposed to be justified by their ser­vice to the Third Estate
and to society as a w­ hole, through spiritual guidance and charitable
works, in the case of the clergy, and order and protection, in the case
of the nobility. According to the newer ideology, private property
­owners have as their sole mission to find the most profitable use for
their goods and to enrich themselves, ­u nder the protection of the
state, without making any contribution to the general welfare.

2. “Qu’est-ce que le tiers état? Tout. Qu’a-­t-il été jusqu’à pre­sent dans l’ordre poli-
tique? Rien. Que demande-­t-il? A devenir quelque chose.” (“What is the Third Estate?
Every­t hing. What has it been hitherto in the po­liti­cal order? Nothing. What does it de-
sire to be? Something.”)
 Revolution, Status, and Class 99

The Long Exit of Forced and Semiforced ­Labor

In the end, the French Revolution abolished the nobility’s privileges
while at the same time strengthening the rights of property ­owners.
For ­those who owned nothing, the balance sheet is ambiguous. The
fact that they ­were no longer subject to the lord’s whims and that they
benefited from a judicial system that was centralized at the national
level and dealt with all citizens in the same way constituted, in theory,
genuine pro­gress. But the concentration of property in the hands of
the richest 1 ­percent of the population, including both nobles and
bourgeois, scarcely diminished between 1780 and 1800 before it started
rising again between 1800 and 1910. For the poorest 50 ­percent, t­ here
was virtually no pro­gress.3
We must also situate the Revolution in a long pro­cess of trans-
forming the status of ­labor in French and other Eu­ro­pean socie­ties.
On the eve of 1789, servitude was supposed to have dis­appeared from
the French countryside centuries e­ arlier. An often-­mentioned expla-
nation is that the relative scarcity of ­labor, along with the collapse of
institutions following the Black Death in the m ­ iddle of the fourteenth
­century, favored the eviction and emancipation of the serfs. Many his-
torians have emphasized the excessively mechanistic nature of this
explanation. In real­ity, every­thing depended on the local power rela-
tionships, which is evident from the calcification of serfdom in Eastern
Eu­rope a­ fter the ­fourteenth c­ entury and its belated abolition in the
nineteenth c­ entury.4 For the most optimistic medievalists, it was the

3. See Chapter 2, Figure 4.

4. The calcification of serfdom in the East (and particularly around the Baltic) seems
to be explained in part by the intensification of cereal exports to the West in the
­fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and the property o ­ wners’ ability to impose a harsher
system of l­ abor. See T. Raster, “Serfs and the Market: Second Serfdom and the East-­West
Goods Exchange, 1579–1859,” unpublished manuscript, Paris School of Economics, June 2,
2019. The abolition of serfdom in Prus­sia in 1807, in Austria-­Hungary in 1848, and
in Rus­sia in 1861 was accompanied by compensations paid to property ­owners by the
former serfs ­u ntil the beginning of the twentieth ­century. See S. A. Eddie, Freedom’s
100 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

trifunctional Christian ideology that made it pos­si­ble to put a gradual

end to servile l­abor and to unify workers within a single class of la-
borers who w ­ ere ­free and celebrated as such in Western Eu­rope, in
accord with a pro­cess that was already well underway even before the
Black Death.5 That was perhaps partly the case, but in truth the avail-
able sources do not allow us to be very precise, so numerous are the
local and regional variations.
What is certain is that pockets of serfdom still existed in France at
the time of the Revolution, for example on the lands of the Abbey of
St. Claude (a g­ reat ecclesiastical seigneury located in the Jura Moun-
tains), and that restrictions on moving around to find work w ­ ere not
definitively and systematically lifted u ­ ntil the Revolution. The peas-
ants generally had freedom of movement (a notion that was often
merely theoretical when they had neither goods nor networks), but
they owed days of unpaid work to their lord. ­Under the Revolution,
t­ hese corvées, or ­labor obligations, would be the object of very lively
debates. During the Revolution’s most egalitarian and redistributive
phase, in 1792–1794, the members of the Convention emphasized that
the corvées betrayed by their very name their origins in serfdom and
feudalism, and consequently they demanded that the corvées be abol-
ished without compensation ­because they ­were aristocratic privi-
leges, similar to ­those targeted on the night of August 4. But during
most of the Revolution, in 1789 and then again starting in 1795, with
the return of censitary suffrage,6 a much more conservative notion
was established, namely that corvées ­were ultimately only rent pay-

Price: Serfdom, Subjection and Reform in Prus­sia, 1648–1848 (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2013); T. Dennison, “The Institutional Framework of Serfdom in Rus­sia: The View
from 1861,” in Serfdom and Slavery in the Eu­ro­pean Economy, 11th–18th Centuries, ed. S.
Cavaciocchi (Florence: Florence University Press, 2014).
5. M. Arnoux, Le Temps des laboureurs. Travail, ordre social et croissance en Eu­rope
(xie–­xive siècle) (Paris: Albin Michel, 2012). Compare J. Le Goff, “Les trois fonctions
indo-­européennes, l’histoire et l’Eu­rope féodale,” Annales histoire, sciences sociales 34,
no. 6 (1979): 1187–1215.
6. The Constitution of 1793 instituted universal male suffrage, but t­ here was not time
to implement it.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 101

ments that should be simply renamed as such in the ­future, and that
any other decision would risk damaging, by osmosis, the ­whole system
of property. That is how the feudal corvées became cap­i­tal­ist rents, in
most cases without further ado. One day’s unpaid l­ abor each week for
example, could be converted to a rent equivalent to one-­fifth or one-­
sixth of the agricultural product.7
We must also emphasize the harshness of the system of discipline
at work and the tendency to strengthen property rights in the course
of the eigh­teenth ­century and during a large part of the nineteenth
­century. In the United Kingdom, the Enclosure Acts, which ­were
­adopted beginning in 1604 and strengthened repeatedly, especially be-
tween 1773 and 1801, resulted in the erection of hedges around par-
cels of land and put an end to the poor’s right to use common lands
and pastures. They also helped fill the roads with unemployed workers
who w ­ ere easy to exploit, and whose l­abor fed British industrializa-
tion. The Black Act of 1723 also weakened the most deprived by insti-
tuting capital punishment for timber thieves and small game hunters,
­people who hunted or gathered at night, their f­ aces blackened to avoid
being recognized, on lands that ­were not their own, and that the prop-
erty o
­ wners now wanted to reserve for their own exclusive use.8 The

7. On ­t hese debates, see T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap
Press of Harvard University Press, 2020), 102–109; and the fascinating R. Blaufarb,
The ­Great Demarcation: The French Revolution and the Invention of Modern Property
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016). Eddie, in Freedom’s Price, goes so far as to propose
the idea that the abolition of serfdom in Prus­sia in 1807 (with compensations for property
­owners) ultimately did more for poor peasants than the French Revolution.
8. See the classic E. P. Thompson, Whigs and Hunters: The Origin of the Black Act
(New York: Pantheon, 1975). This act targeted p ­ eople who hunted stags, cut down trees,
poached on fishponds, or pulled up copses. An alleged felon could be sentenced on the
spot to be hanged. Initially intended to last three years, this law was extended and hard-
ened over more than a c­ entury. We see a similar hardening of property law elsewhere in
Eu­rope, for example in Prus­sia in 1821, which had an impact on the young Karl Marx
and helped convince him that property is a social relationship historically constructed
and instituted u ­ nder the aegis of the state and the propertied classes, and not a natu­ral,
atemporal real­ity. For its part, the French Revolution decreed that private lands and
woods would be open to every­one for hunting, a mea­sure that is still in force ­today.
102 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

new proletariat, reduced to poverty, was subject ­until 1875 to the aptly
named Master and Servant Act, which gave employers full rights, in-
cluding a rule that criminalized efforts to poach servants, making it
pos­si­ble to keep wages extremely low.9
In the colonies, the l­egal system was even less egalitarian: forced
­labor is clearly pre­sent ­until at least 1946 and even u
­ ntil in­de­pen­dence
was achieved. In French cities, ­labor ­union and worker mobilization,
along with intense social strug­gles, ­were to make it pos­si­ble to im-
pose new norms more quickly. In France, laws on child l­abor w ­ ere
passed in 1841, on ­labor ­union freedom in 1884, on accidents at work
in 1898, on collective conventions and the eight-­hour workday in 1919,
on paid vacations in 1936, and on Social Security in 1945. The estab-
lishment of regular salaries and a veritable “salaried society” marks a
major advance in civilization that has appeared only gradually, in
multiple forms, and over very long periods. For example, it was not
­until 1969–1977 that monthly salaries (guaranteeing a fixed income
each month rather than each day or week) ­were to be found gener-
ally.10 We also know that this evolution is partly reversible, depending
on po­liti­cal and economic power relationships. Salarial status has thus
diminished significantly of late, with the self-­employed worker system
introduced into the French 2008 law “modernizing” the economy. The
keystone of that law is smaller social contributions and fewer legal

9. The best proof that living conditions w ­ ere deteriorating at the end of the eigh­
teenth c­ entury and the beginning of the nineteenth ­century is no doubt the diminution
of the height of conscripts, in par­t ic­u ­lar in urban and industrial centers. See S. Nicholas
and R. H. Steckel, “Heights and Living Standards of En­g lish Workers during the Early
Years of Industrialization,” Journal of Economic History 51, no. 4 (1991): 937–957.
10. R. Castel, Les Métamorphoses de la question sociale (Paris: Folio, 1995) 594–595;
R. Castel and C. Haroche, Propriété privée, propriété sociale, propriété de soi (Paris: Plu-
riel, 2001). Compare C. Didry, L’Institution du travail. Droit et salariat dans l’histoire
(Paris: La Dispute, 2016); M. Margairaz and M. Pigenet, Le Prix du travail. France et es-
paces coloniaux, xixe–­x xie siècles (Paris: Éditions de la Sorbonne, 2019). On the long
pro­cess of the “socialization” of law through the case of l­ abor law, see L. Duguit, Les
Transformations générales du droit privé depuis le Code Napoléon (Paris: Alcan, 1912),
which is situated in a framework close to the Solidarism and Durkheimian socialism of
his time.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 103

protections, a development whose harmful consequences for workers

could be noted during the pandemic of 2020 and 2021. The develop-
ment of digital platforms and gig workers paid by the task now con-
stitutes as much a redoubtable threat to salarial status as to our liber-
ties, and we w ­ ill be able to fight it only if the public authority regains
control of the sector and implements new laws.11 We must also insist
on the historical fact that the development of a more protective sala-
rial status has occurred especially within the nation states of the
North, sometimes at the price of reinforcing borders. Workers in the
South have not been much involved in this movement; on the scale of
the global economy, they are just as stuck in their territory of origin
at the beginning of the twenty-­first ­century as the serfs of the Abbey
of St. Claude w ­ ere in the eigh­teenth ­century. The march t­ oward equality
and dignity with regard to work is an ongoing b ­ attle that now re-
quires a profound transformation of the world economic system. We
­w ill return to it.

Sweden in 1900: One Man, a Hundred Votes

Along with the b ­ attles for labor laws and workers’ rights, the campaign
for universal suffrage is the other ­great social and po­liti­cal strug­gle of
the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth c­ entury. In 1815,
Louis xviii installed a po­liti­cal system like the one he had observed
in ­England, with a Chamber of Peers reserved for the upper nobility
(like the House of Lords) and a Chamber of Deputies elected by census
suffrage (like the House of Commons, but in a still more l­ imited way).
Specifically, during the first Restoration, only the 1 ­percent of adult
males who paid the most direct taxes had the right to vote. The

11. S. Zuboff, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism (New York: PublicAffairs, 2019); C.
Durand, Techno-­féodalisme. Critique de l’économie numérique (Paris: Zones, 2020); S.
Abdelnour and D. Méda, Les Nouveaux Travailleurs des applis (Paris: PUF, 2020). The
best solution is to define as a “systemic platform” all platforms used by a large fraction
of the population and to treat them as a quasi-­public ser­v ice, with strict regulation of
the algorithms and re­spect for fundamental rights.
104 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

100%
90%
Proportion of adult males

80%
70%
with right to vote

60%
50%
40%
30%
20%
10%
0%
1820 1840 1870 1890 1920 1820 1840 1880 1820 1900 1920
United Kingdom France Sweden

figure 16. ​The Evolution of Male Suffrage in Eu­rope, 1820–1920

In the United Kingdom, the percentage of adult males having the right to vote
(taking into account the taxes owed and property held in order to have this right)
­rose from 5 ­percent in 1820 to 30 ­percent in 1870 and 100 ­percent in 1920. In France,
it r­ ose from 1 ­percent in 1820 to 100 ­percent in 1880. Sources and series: piketty.pse.
ens.fr/equality

threshold that had to be met to be a candidate for office was even

higher, and concerned only 0.2 ­percent of adult males.12 Suffrage was
slightly broadened ­after the Revolution of 1830: the number of elec-
tors u
­ nder the July Monarchy r­ ose to a l­ittle more than 2 ­percent of
adult males, while the number of ­those eligible to be candidates for
office was raised to about 0.4 ­percent of adult males. Universal suf-
frage for men was implemented briefly following the Revolution of
1848, and then definitively starting in 1871, before being fi­nally ex-
tended to w­ omen in 1944. In the United Kingdom, the march t­ oward
universal male suffrage was much more gradual (see Figure 16). The
proportion of adult males who had the right to vote was scarcely

12. The direct taxes involved ­were levied mainly on property (land and buildings)
and on licenses (based on business assets: factories, equipment). To simplify, it con-
cerned the largest property ­owners, just as in other censitary systems. In France the law
of the “double vote” promulgated in 1820 introduced the possibility for the wealthiest
censitary electors (roughly speaking, the ones eligible for office) to vote a second time to
designate part of the deputies.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 105

5 ­percent in 1820, then ­rose to 14 ­percent following the electoral re-

form of 1832, 30  ­percent ­a fter the reform of 1867, and especially
60 ­percent with the electoral law of 1884, which transformed the po­
liti­cal situation and led to much more redistributive social and fiscal
legislation. Universal male suffrage was fi­nally introduced in 1918, fol-
lowed by universal female suffrage in 1928.
A particularly in­ter­est­ing but little-­k nown case is that of Sweden.
From 1527 to 1865, the Swedish monarchy relied on a parliament, the
Riksdag, which included representatives of the four ­orders or estates
that then composed the kingdom: the nobility, the clergy, the urban
bourgeoisie, and the property-­owning peasantry. In 1865, this system
was replaced by a censitary parliamentary system composed of two
chambers: an upper chamber elected by a small minority of large
property ­owners (scarcely 9,000 electors, or less than 1 ­percent of the
adult male population), and a lower chamber. The lower chamber was
also censitary, requiring property owner­ship, but considerably more
open. Suffrage was not expanded in Sweden u ­ ntil the reforms of 1909–
1911; property-­owning conditions w ­ ere completely abolished for men
only in 1919, and not u ­ ntil 1921 was universal suffrage extended to
include w ­ omen. Around 1900, with a l­ittle more than 20 ­percent of
adult men having the right to vote, Sweden was one of the least ad-
vanced Eu­ro­pean nations.
Above all, the g­ reat peculiarity of the censitary system used in
Sweden between 1865 and 1911 is that the number of votes an elector
had depended on how much tax he paid and how much property and
income he had.13 Within the 20 ­percent of men rich enough to be able
to vote, electors w­ ere divided into about forty groups, each associated
with a dif­fer­ent electoral weight. Concretely, members of the least
wealthy group each had one vote, whereas t­ hose in the richest group
had as many as fifty-­four votes each. The exact scale determining the

13. See the fascinating article by E. Bengtsson, “The Swedish Sonderweg in Question:
Democ­ratization and In­equality in Comparative Perspective, c. 1750–1920,” Past and
Pre­sent 244, no. 1 (2018): 123–161.
106 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

electoral weight (fyrkar) of each elector was set using a formula that
depended on the amount of the taxes he paid, the properties he owned,
and his income. A similar system was used for municipal elections,
with the additional particularity that corporations also had the right
to participate in t­ hese local elections, and they also had a number of
votes depending on the amount of their taxes and the amount of their
goods and profits. However, for urban municipalities, a single elector,
­whether a private person or an enterprise, could not have more than
one hundred votes. For rural municipalities, on the other hand, ­there
was no ceiling of this kind, to the point that during the municipal
elections of 1871, ­t here ­were fifty-­four voting districts in Sweden in
which a single elector cast more than 50 ­percent of the votes. The
prime minister, Count Arvid Posse, was among t­ hese dictators en-
joying impeccable demo­cratic legitimacy. In the 1880s, Posse cast the
majority of the votes in the district where he lived and where his f­ amily
owned a vast estate. Th ­ ere w­ ere also 414 voting districts in which a
single elector cast more than 25 ­percent of the votes.
Sweden’s astonishing hypercensitary experiment is in­ter­est­ing
in more than one way. In a few de­cades, Sweden moved from an ex-
tremely inegalitarian system based on property owner­ship to a rela-
tively egalitarian society—at least more egalitarian than all other known
socie­ties. This change occurred when the Social Demo­crats came to
power in the early 1920s, ­after an intense campaign by ­labor ­unions
and workers, and then remained in power on a quasi-permanent basis
from 1932 to 2006. On the eve of World War I, the concentration of
property was just as extreme in Sweden as it was in France or the
United Kingdom (see Figure 17), and Sweden was incontestably the
Eu­ro­pean country that had gone furthest in the constitutional and
electoral codification of its in­equality.14 Then, during the interwar

14. Another in­ter­est­ing case, though less extreme, is that of the Kingdom of Prus­sia,
the chief component of the German Empire from 1871 to 1918. From 1848 to 1918 Prus­sia
had an unusual electoral system involving three categories of citizens defined by the
amount of taxes paid. More precisely, Prus­sian electors ­were divided into three classes
 Revolution, Status, and Class 107

90%
80%
Top
Top
Share of private property

70% Top 10%

10%
10%
60%
50%
40%
30%
20% Next
10% Bottom Next Bottom 40% Bottom
Next
50% 40% 50% 50% 40%
0%
France United Kingdom Sweden

figure 17. E ​ xtreme Patrimonial In­equality: Eu­ro­pean Property-­Owner Socie­ties

in the Belle Époque (1880–1914)
The share of the highest 10 ­percent of wealth in total private property (real, occupa-
tional, and financial assets, net of debt) was on average 84  ­percent in France be-
tween 1880 and 1914 (as compared with 14 ­percent for the following 40 ­percent and
2 ­percent for the poorest 50 ­percent), 91 ­percent in the United Kingdom (as com-
pared with 8 ­percent and 1 ­percent), and 88 ­percent in Sweden (as compared with
11 ­percent and 1 ­percent). Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

period, the Social Demo­crats took control of the Swedish government

and put their country’s state power in the ser­vice of a completely dif­
fer­ent po­liti­cal proj­ect. Instead of using property registers and incomes
to distribute the right to vote, they began to use them to make the
richest p­ eople pay progressively heavier taxes, all in order to finance
public ser­vices. Th ­ ese ser­vices allowed relatively egalitarian (­here
again, in comparison to other countries) access to health care and
education for the w ­ hole of the population. This experiment shows
how ­little anything is fixed. ­People sometimes imagine that ­there are
cultures or civilizations that tend by nature ­toward equality or in­equality:
Sweden is supposed to have always been egalitarian, perhaps b ­ ecause
of an ancient passion proceeding from the Vikings, whereas India and

defined in such a way that each class paid one-­t hird of the total taxes and then elected a
third of the ­Great Electors, who themselves elected the deputies.
108 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

its castes are eternally inegalitarian, no doubt for reasons just as mys-
tical that proceed from the Aryans. In truth, every­thing depends on
the institutions and rules that each ­human community gives itself,
contingent on power relationships, mobilizations, and social strug­gles,
within unstable trajectories that would merit close examination.

The Metamorphoses of Privileges:

Democracy and Money
The path followed by Sweden also shows the boundless imagination
that the property-­owning classes can show in structuring institutions
to their advantage. It would be a ­mistake to think that this ingenuity
no longer exists: t­ oday’s billionaires would not dare to openly demand
rights to vote like the ones Sweden used to have, but they often resort
to other methods to arrive at the same ends. In par­tic­u­lar, we must
emphasize that electoral democracies have never provided a truly sat-
isfactory solution to the prob­lem of financing po­liti­cal campaigns,
far from it. Theoretically, we could imagine that an obvious corollary
of universal suffrage would have been to set up an egalitarian system
in which each citizen would have the same amount to contribute to
parties and po­liti­cal movements of his choice, the keystone of the
system being an absolute prohibition on larger donations and a strict
limitation of electoral expenditures, so as to put all candidates and
all voters on an equal footing. We could even imagine that this po­
liti­cal equality might be constitutionally guaranteed, and that ­these
arrangements would be protected with as much determination as uni-
versal suffrage itself.
However, not only is this not the case, but the opposite is true. Some
countries have developed timid systems of public financing for cam-
paigns and po­liti­cal parties—in Germany in the 1950s, in the United
States and in Italy in the 1970s and 1980s, and also in France in the
1990s. But t­ hese systems are clearly insufficient, and they are usually
completely overwhelmed by the flow of private money. This is partic-
 Revolution, Status, and Class 109

ularly the case in the United States, where lobbyists have succeeded
in convincing judges that no ceiling for po­liti­cal expenditures can
be set (and that imposing any ceiling would be equivalent to violating
the wealthiest p ­ eople’s freedom of expression).15 But it is also the case
in Eu­rope, India, and Brazil. Almost everywhere, the tax deductions
that are granted for po­liti­cal contributions, as well as for other kinds of
donations, amount to subsidizing the wealthiest ­people’s po­liti­cal or
cultural preferences with the money of the poorest. In France, a wealthy
voter giving 7,500 euros (the current ceiling) to his preferred po­liti­cal
party has a right to a tax deduction of 5,000 euros, financed by the rest
of the taxpayers. In comparison, the ordinary person has a right to a
deduction of about 1 euro per voter in the form of public financing for
po­liti­cal parties.16 This example shows the extent to which censitary
systems still exist: they have simply become a l­ ittle less vis­i­ble.
The question of how to finance the media, think tanks, and other
organs that shape public opinion raises the same prob­lems. Laws
seeking to limit the concentration of the press or to reduce the power
of stockholders relative to that of editors ­were set up in some coun-
tries, often shortly a­ fter World War II, but they are notoriously insuf-
ficient and have never been adapted to the digital age. In France, a
handful of billionaires now owns more than half of the news media.
This situation is found everywhere, in poor countries as well as in rich
ones. The best solution would be to change the ­legal framework and

15. T. Kuhner, Capitalism v. Democracy: Money in Politics and the F ­ ree Market Con-
stitution (Stanford CA: Stanford University Press, 2014); L. Bartels, Unequal Democ-
racy: The Po­liti­cal Economy of the New Gilded Age, 2nd ed. (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton
University Press, 2016).
16. J. Cagé, The Price of Democracy, trans. P. Camiller (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 2020); J. Cagé, Libres et égaux en voix (Paris: Fayard, 2020). In all, tax
deductions for po­liti­cal donations (benefiting mainly the wealthiest 1 ­percent of taxpayers,
and especially the wealthiest 0.01 ­percent) cost the public trea­sury about the same
amount as total official public financing (based particularly on the results of the last
elections, and thus granting the same importance to all electors). The author proposes
to replace this inegalitarian system with “demo­cratic equality vouchers” of the same
value for every­one, and to apply a similar system to philanthropy and to the media.
110 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

adopt a law that truly de­moc­r a­t izes the media, guaranteeing em-
ployees and journalists half the seats in the governing organs, what­
ever their l­egal form might be, opening their doors to representa-
tives from the reading public, and drastically limiting stockholders’
power.17
The essential point is that this critique of con­temporary democracy
and of its capture by big money must be accompanied by proposals
for precise institutional mechanisms making it pos­si­ble to move
­toward greater equality. In the course of the twentieth c­ entury, the
critique of “bourgeois” democracy has too often served as an excuse—
by the leaders and bureaucratic classes holding power in the Soviet
bloc, but also in some newly in­de­pen­dent countries—­for d ­ oing away
with pluralist elections or taking control of the media. The refusal to
hold elections is never justified. On the other hand, the establishment
of a radically egalitarian way of financing po­liti­cal parties, electoral
campaigns, and the media is not only justified but indispensable for
being able to speak of a democracy that is truly based on a princi­ple
of equality. This must go hand-­in-­hand with a multiplicity of modes
of po­liti­cal participation, notably in the form of citizen assemblies and
deliberative referenda. But h ­ ere as well, the question of how to finance
campaigns and achieve equality in the production and diffusion of
information must be dealt with rigorously.18
In practice, this protection of democracy and po­liti­cal equality
does not exist. In most countries, the constitutions and the courts tend
on the contrary to protect the established order, in the sense that they
set up very strong l­ egal constraints seeking to prevent a po­liti­cal ma-
jority from proceeding, for example, to undertake an ambitious revi-
sion of the property system (or even simply to limit the power of

17. J. Cagé and B. Huet, L’information est un bien public. Refonder la propriété des
médias (Paris: Seuil, 2021).
18. The success of the referendum or­ga­nized by Uber and Lyft to preserve their ex-
tremely precarious model in California in 2020 illustrates the limits of an idyllic vision
of direct democracy, as well as the need to reconceive a salarial status that makes it pos­
si­ble to reconcile protection and autonomy.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 111

stockholders). Re­distribution of property is generally subjected to an

obligation to indemnify, which in practice makes any genuine transfer
impossible. If someone owns every­thing that can be owned in a
country, and if it is necessary to fully indemnify him for any transfer
of his properties to other persons or collectivities, that means it is
impossible to change anything at all in the initial situation, at least
within a l­egal framework. If we add that the rules governing consti-
tutional amendments tend to make them very difficult (as in France,
where the Senate, not a very demo­cratic body, has the right to veto),19
we can see that in some cases this can completely immobilize the sit-
uation. Unsurprisingly, each system often tries to prevent the princi­
ples it holds dear from being changed, and even attempts to make any
effort to challenge them illegal.
The consequence is that ­these rules have been regularly broken in
the course of history. The march t­oward equality is full of revolu-
tionary moments when po­liti­cal institutions are redefined in order
to make it pos­si­ble to transform social and economic structures.
When the Estates General met in 1789, no rule provided that a National
Assembly could proclaim itself and give itself the right to abolish
the nobility’s privileges and decide to expropriate the clergy’s property
while at the same time trampling on the right of veto that the two
privileged o­ rders had enjoyed for centuries. We s­ hall note, moreover,
that none of the regime changes that have occurred in France since
1789 (­there are about ten of them) took place in accord with the rules
set forth by their pre­de­ces­sors.20 In the United Kingdom, it was in a

19. In France, the Senate is elected by an electoral college that is structurally conser-
vative b ­ ecause rural zones are overrepresented in it. In 1946, as a result of pressure exer-
cised by socialists and communists, it lost its right to veto ordinary legislation (a right
to veto that u ­ nder the Third Republic had helped delay by several de­cades many essen-
tial fiscal and social reforms), but retained it for constitutional amendments, which
must still be approved in identical terms by each of the two chambers by a s­ imple ma-
jority vote before being submitted e­ ither to the two chambers in joint session, where they
must be approved by a two-­t hirds supermajority, or to ratification by referendum.
20. Up ­u ntil now, the most impor­tant constitutional revision made by the Fifth Re-
public, the one ­adopted in 1962 establishing the election of the president by universal
112 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

climate of extreme tension that the House of Lords, which clearly

dominated British bicameralism ­u ntil the end of the nineteenth
­century, was forced in 1909–1911 to renounce its right to veto and to
yield power to the House of Commons forever, in the eruptive con-
text of the vote on the “­People’s Bud­get” and the creation of a pro-
gressive tax on total income.21 In the United States, Roo­se­velt had to
threaten to “pack” the Supreme Court in 1937 so that it would lift the
veto by which it was blocking his social legislation in the name of f­ ree
enterprise, even though he had just been reelected with 61 ­percent of
the vote.22 It is probable that episodes of the same kind w ­ ill occur in
the f­ uture in times of crisis—­t imes that it is impossible to foresee.
­Here, too, this observation must be used not as an excuse for tram-
pling on all ­legal rules, but on the contrary, to propose new rules that
are more profoundly egalitarian and demo­cratic than the preceding
ones, without losing sight of the fact that the law must be a tool for
emancipation and not for the preservation of positions of power.

suffrage, was also made on the basis of General De Gaulle’s blatant violation (for which
the Constitutional Council he appointed had no difficulty pardoning him). Nothing,
then or now, provided that such a revision can be de­cided by referendum without prior
approval by the two chambers.
21. The Lords took the risk of vetoing this popu­lar proposal. The Liberal prime min-
ister, Lloyd George, feared his party might be replaced by L­ abour (which it ultimately
was). He needed to give guarantees to the new electors coming from the disadvantaged
classes, and thus de­cided to double down. He had the House of Commons adopt a con-
stitutional law depriving the Lords of any legislative veto power, while at the same time
calling fresh elections, which he won by a landslide. The Lords then found themselves
caught in the trap of the Salisbury Doctrine, a verbal promise formulated in the 1880s
according to which the Lords had to agree to ratify legislation for which the Commons
had obtained explicit popu­lar support. They ­were forced to approve the two texts and to
sign their own death warrant a­ fter the king threatened to fill the House of Lords with
several hundred new members if they dared to betray their promise to the country. See
Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 176–181.
22. We may note in passing the archaic nature of the US Supreme Court, whose
judges are named for life like the pope of the Catholic Church and the apostles of the
Mormon church. However, a pontifical bull of 1970 denied cardinals over eighty years
old the right to vote in papal elections, which proves that all institutions can be re-
formed, even the most venerable ones.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 113

The Per­sis­tence of Censitary Voting:

Economic Plutocracy
If t­ here is a domain where censitary voting continues to reign, it is
certainly that of economic power. In joint-­stock companies, the stock-
holders legally have all the power, with voting rights proportional to
the number of stocks they hold. It might be said that this is the defi-
nition of capitalism, but in fact it is a specific institutional arrange-
ment that is not particularly natu­ral and has been established only
gradually, in the context of specific circumstances and power relation-
ships.23 Theoretically, other rules are perfectly conceivable. For ex-
ample, nothing guarantees that stockholders are more competent to
manage an enterprise than a com­pany’s employees, or that they are
more invested in its success over the long term. Often, the opposite is
true: an investment fund can put capital into an enterprise and with-
draw it again in a short period of time, whereas employees generally
invest a major part of their lives, their energy, and their skills. In many
re­spects, employees constitute the com­pany’s first long-­term investors.
If we look at the big picture, we can only be surprised by this per­sis­
tence of plutocracy in economic m ­ atters.
More balanced systems have been tried since the ­middle of the
twentieth c­ entury, even in nominally “cap­i­tal­ist” countries. In Ger-
many, the system known as “comanagement” (sometimes still called

23. In the eigh­teenth c­ entury and the beginning of the nineteenth, the first joint-­stock
companies w ­ ere established, often around a princi­ple of equality among associates.
They then gradually introduced systems with several classes of voting rights, so that the
persons who contributed the most capital had more votes. However, they did not go so
far as to institute a proportional voting system pure and ­simple, ­because it was feared
that would lead to an excessive concentration of power in a small group of persons, and
harm both the quality of the deliberation and relations among associates. In the United
Kingdom, it was not u ­ ntil the enactment of the Com­pany Law of 1906 that this princi­ple
of proportionality between the number of stocks owned and voting rights became by
law the joint-­stock companies’ default mode of governance (the statutes may still depart
from this princi­ple, and distinguish several categories of stocks and all sorts of specific
rules). See E. McGaughey, “Participation in Corporate Governance,” unpublished ms.,
London School of Economics, November 4, 2014.
114 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Mitbestimmung, or “codetermination”) consists in dividing up the

seats in a com­pany’s board of directors or supervisory board with one
half being representatives of the employees and the other half repre-
sentatives of the stockholders. This system was introduced in 1951 in
the steel and coal industries, and then extended in 1952 to all large
companies (all sectors taken together). The 1976 law established the
system currently in force in Germany, with one-­third of the seats for
employees in companies with between 500 and 2,000 employees, and
half the seats for ­those with more than 2,000 employees.24 Compa-
rable arrangements ­were ­adopted in Austria, Sweden, Denmark, and
Norway, where the rules also apply to small and medium-­sized en-
terprises.25 On the other hand, comanagement is at this time not very
widespread outside Germanic and Nordic Eu­rope.26
In practice, the importance of this transformation must not be ex-
aggerated: in the event of a tie vote, it is still the stockholders who
make the decision. Nonetheless, it is a clear modification of the usual
cap­i­tal­ist rules. It ­will be noted that 50 ­percent of the voting rights
are attributed to employees as such, as “investors in ­labor,” in­de­pen­
dently of any owner­ship of the capital. If in addition the employees
own 10 or 20 ­percent of the capital, or if a public collectivity holds
a 10 or 20 ­percent share, then a stockholder can find himself in the

24. E. McGaughey, “The Codetermination Bargains: The History of German Corpo-

rate and ­Labour Law,” Columbia Journal of Eu­ro­pean Law 23, no. 1 (2017): 135–176. Com-
pare S. J. Silvia, Holding the Shop Together: German Industrial Relations in the Postwar
Era (Ithaca NY: Cornell University Press, 2013).
25. In Sweden, employees have only one-­t hird of the seats, but the rule applies to all
companies with more than twenty-­five employees. The threshold is thirty-­five em-
ployees in Denmark and fifty employees in Norway. In Austria, the rule is applied only
beyond 300 employees, which in practice considerably limits its field of application (al-
most as much as in Germany).
26. Several proposed Eu­ro­pean directives seeking to impose minimal rules (be-
tween a third and half of the seats for employees) ­were debated in 1972, 1983, and 1988,
but they met with fierce hostility from the conservative parties (and with the l­ imited
enthusiasm of the French socialists and the British L­ abour Party, who w ­ ere at the time
betting mainly on nationalizations).
 Revolution, Status, and Class 115

minority, even if he owns 80 or 90 ­percent of the stock.27 From the

stockholders’ point of view, this amounts to an unacceptable challenge
to their natu­ral rights. ­These mea­sures in Germany ­were obtained
­a fter extremely tense social and po­liti­cal strug­g les, in a context in
which the power relationships clearly favored l­ abor, namely, a­ fter the
trauma of the 1929 crisis and the compromising of the economic elites
on account of their dealings with the Nazis. The German laws of 1951
and 1952 w ­ ere passed by the Christian Demo­crats, but in response to
intense pressure exerted by the Social Demo­crats and especially by
­labor u­ nions, who at that point w ­ ere making even more ambitious de-
mands, such as their participation, on an equal footing, in regional
and federal planning commissions.
We must also stress that ­these laws could be implemented only
­because the German constitution of 1949, the Basic Law for the Federal
Republic of Germany, had previously a­ dopted an innovative defini-
tion of property considered in terms of its social goal. In par­tic­u­lar,
the constitution asserts at the outset that the right to property is le-
gitimate only insofar as it “­shall . . . ​serve the public good” (Article 14).
It explic­itly mentions that the socialization of the means of produc-
tion and the redefinition of the system of private property enter into
the domain of the law, in terms that open the possibility of mea­sures
such as comanagement. This text is situated in the tradition begun
by the German constitution of 1919, which was itself ­adopted in a
quasi-­insurrectional context, and which made pos­si­ble re­distributions
of land and new social and syndical rights, rights that ­were suspended
from 1933 to 1945.28 Employers’ groups repeatedly tried to contest co-
management in the courts, notably following the law of 1976 ­adopted
by the Social Demo­crats, but their complaint was dismissed by the

27. For example, the German Land of Lower Saxony holds 13 ­percent of Volks­
wagen’s capital, and the com­pany’s statutes guarantee it 20 ­percent of the voting rights,
in addition to 50 ­percent of the votes ­going to employees.
28. “Land, natu­ral resources, and means of production may . . . ​be transferred to public
owner­ship or other forms of public enterprise by a law that determines the nature and
extent of compensation” (Basic Law for the Federal Republic of Germany, Article 15).
116 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Constitutional Court, on the basis of the constitution of 1949. Con-

versely, several countries, including France, have retained in their
fundamental texts a definition of property seen as an absolute and
natu­ral right, a definition that comes from the end of the eigh­teenth
­century, so that the adoption of rules of comanagement in the German
fashion without an amendment to the constitution would be very likely
to be contested in court.29

Participatory Socialism and Power Sharing

In theory, a deepening of the rules of Germanic and Nordic coman-
agement is conceivable. All studies show that this system has made it
pos­si­ble to achieve a better involvement of employees in companies’
long-­term strategies and greater collective efficiency.30 For example,
we can imagine a system in which part of the employees’ representa-
tives would have 50 ­percent of the votes in all enterprises, including
the smallest ones, and in which, on the other hand, the share of the
voting rights held by an individual stockholder (within the 50 ­percent
of voting rights reserved for stockholders) cannot exceed a certain
threshold in sufficiently large companies. Thus an individual stock-

29. “The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen” (1789) is still part of
the constitutional corpus. Article 2 provides that: “The aim of e­ very po­liti­cal associa-
tion is the preservation of the natu­ral and imprescriptible rights of Man. ­These rights
are Liberty, Property, Safety, and Re­sis­tance to Oppression.” The Constitution offers no
explanation of the naturalist definition of property (like t­ hose provided by the German
constitutions of 1919 and 1949), leaving judges f­ ree to interpret it as they understand it,
and particularly in the conservative way most favorable to maintaining the already es-
tablished rights of property o ­ wners. In 2013, a French law introduced for the first time a
timid presence of employees on the governing boards of large companies (one seat out
of twelve, a rule confirmed in 2019 with a slight extension of its field of application), but
it is very pos­si­ble that a law according half the seats to employees would be censured in
the absence of a preceding constitutional amendment.
30. E. McGaughey, “A Twelve-­Point Plan for ­Labour and a Manifesto for L ­ abour
Law,” Industrial Law Journal 46, no. 1 (2017): 169–184; Silvia, Holding the Shop Together;
S. Jäger, B. Schoefer, and J. Heining, “­Labor in the Boardroom,” Quarterly Journal of
Economics 136, no. 2 (2021): 669–725; J. Harju, S. Jäger, and B. Schoefer, “Voice at Work,”
MIT, unpublished manuscript, June 2021.
 Revolution, Status, and Class 117

holder might have a maximum of 90 ­percent of the stockholders’

voting rights in small companies (fewer than ten employees), and this
threshold would be lowered linearly to 10 ­percent of the stockholders’
voting rights in larger companies (more than ninety employees).31 In
this way, a single stockholder who is also an employee of the com­
pany could have a majority of the votes in a very small com­pany (in
this case, as many as ten employees) but would have to rely in-
creasingly on collective deliberation with other employees as soon
as the com­pany became significantly larger (see Figure 18). In a very
small com­pany, the maintenance of a strong connection between the
amount of capital contributed and economic power can be justified:
if all one’s savings are invested in a life work (for example, opening
an organic grocery store or a café-­restaurant), ­t here’s nothing ab-
normal about that person having more votes than an employee hired
the day before. ­These types of investors are more likely to reduce ex-
penditures, for example, in order to develop the proj­ect.32 On the
other hand, if the proj­ect involves many employees and collective re-
sources, such a concentration of power is no longer justified. A single
stockholder who is not himself an employee would lose the majority
of votes as soon as the first employee was hired in the system outlined
­here. If the employees themselves have contributed capital, even a mi-
nority stake, they would obtain a majority of the votes more rapidly.
It goes without saying that all t­ hese par­ameters are given only as il-
lustrations and would have to be the object of vast deliberation and
experimentation.
The system of “participatory socialism” described h ­ ere has only one
objective: to illustrate the very g­ reat diversity of pos­si­ble economic
systems. On the basis of the historical experience at our disposal, it is

31. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 972–975. This system generalizes the rules setting a
ceiling on voting rights already proposed regarding media companies by J. Cagé, Saving
the Media (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016).
32. The form of the cooperative com­pany based on a strict equality of voting rights
among employees can be adapted for certain proj­ects but imposing it systematically
would be counterproductive.
 118 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

100%
90% Voting rights held by a single
Share of voting rights held

80% salaried stockholder

by a single stockholder

70% Voting rights held by a single

unsalaried stockholder
60%
50%
40%
30%
20%
10%
0%
1 2 3 4 5 7 10 12 15 20 30 50 70 100
Number of the company’s salaried employees
(possibly including the stockholder)

figure 18. ​Participatory Socialism and Power Sharing

In the system of participatory socialism envisioned h ­ ere, a single stockholder
(owning 100 ­percent of the com­pany’s stock) has 73 ­percent of voting rights if the
com­pany has two salaried employees (including himself), 51 ­percent if he has ten
salaried employees (including himself), and he loses the majority beyond ten sala-
ried employees. A single, unsalaried stockholder has 45 ­percent of voting rights if
the com­pany has fewer than ten salaried employees, and then this share declines
regularly and reaches 5 ­percent with 100 salaried employees.
Note: Salaried employees (­whether or not they are stockholders) share 50 ­percent of
voting rights, and within that 50  ­percent, an individual stockholder cannot hold
more than 90 ­percent (or 45 ­percent of the votes) in a com­pany with fewer than
ten salaried employees; this fraction falls linearly to 10 ­percent (or 5 ­percent of the
votes) in companies with more than ninety salaried employees (the unattributed
stockholders’ votes are reattributed to the salaried employees). Sources and series:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

clear that the establishment of such a system would require very strong
popu­lar support. In most countries, as in France, such a transforma-
tion would also involve a substantial revision of the constitution,
which could prob­ably be made only during moments of crisis, as has
often happened in the past. We s­ hall see that such profound changes
would also have to be accompanied by a complete revision of the fiscal
system, so as to allow a true circulation of property and economic
power, as well as the redefinition of multiple international treaties, in
par­tic­u­lar t­ hose that concern the movement of capital. I am not sug-
 Revolution, Status, and Class 119

gesting that such a system could easily be set up next month, but
simply insisting on the fact that no less gigantic transformations of
the l­ egal, fiscal, and social system continually occurred between 1780
and 2020, and that this pro­cess is not ­going to stop suddenly now. It
is therefore not pointless to inquire into the subsequent stages of par-
ticipatory socialism on the basis of the experience available.
Concerning the question of power-­sharing in enterprises, and more
generally the debate on the transformation of the economic system
and the emergence of new forms of demo­cratic socialism, it is striking
to note to what point discussions have gained new vigor since the fi-
nancial crisis of 2008. In several countries, especially in the United
States and Britain, some impor­tant po­liti­cal movements have set out
to formulate unpre­ce­dented proposals intended to establish rules that
are inspired, in one way or another, by the Germanic and Nordic
systems of comanagement.33 If approved, the conditions for their
adoption worldwide could be created. Within the intellectual and
syndical world, ambitious collective and international proj­ects like
the “Manifesto for L ­ abour Law” remind us to what extent t­ here are
several ways of organ­izing the economic system, and in par­tic­u ­lar
the power relationships within enterprises.34 In addition to the ques-
tion of comanagement, the w ­ hole of syndical law must be rethought

33. See, for example, two bills introduced by Demo­cratic senators in the United
States in 2018–2020. The Reward Work Act of 2018 proposes that employees may elect
one-­t hird of the board of directors of listed companies; the Accountable Capitalism Act
requires that 40 ­percent of the directors of all large companies be elected by salaried
employees, and that po­liti­cal donations be approved by boards of directors by a 75 ­percent
majority (since Supreme Court rulings make it impossible to forbid such po­liti­cal dona-
tions). See Reward Work Act of 2018 (S. 2605 and HR 6096; S. 915, introduced March 27,
2019; HR 3355, introduced October 17, 2019 S. 2605 and HR 6096); Accountable Capitalism
Act S. 3348, introduced August 15, 2018; S. 3215, introduced January 16, 2020). On the
new platform of the British ­L abour Party, see K. Ewing, G. Hendy, and C. Jones,
Rolling out the Manifesto for ­L abour Law (Liverpool, UK: Institute of Employment
Rights, 2018).
34. I. Ferreras, J. Battilana, and D. Méda, eds., Le Manifeste Travail. Démocratiser,
démarchandiser, dépolluer (Paris: Seuil, 2020). Compare I. Ferreras, Firms as Po­liti­cal
Entities: Saving Democracy through Economic Bicameralism (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2017). See also McGaughey, “A Twelve-­Point Plan for ­Labour,” which
120 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

at the Eu­ro­pean and transnational level, thereby facilitating the

support and participation of employees, reserving public markets
for enterprises that sign collective agreements, and fi­nally general-
izing ­labor ­unions’ right to enter the workplace and to or­ga­nize
meetings ­t here.35 Although it is too soon to know their impact, ­these
initiatives indicate the liveliness of the debates. We s­ hall also see that
the discussions initiated in Sweden in the 1970s and 1980s on the sub-
ject of “employee funds” (called Meidner funds) have recently picked
up again. But before we analyze in greater detail the prospects for
­future transformations, we have to understand better how the very
intense compression of economic inequalities that took place in the
twentieth ­century in many countries, and in par­tic­u­lar in the world’s
main cap­i­tal­ist powers, was produced.

proposes that administrators be elected by assemblies composed of both employees and

stockholders.
35. See the platform of the l­ abor federation UNI Global Union. Compare S. Block
and B. Sachs, “Clean Slate for Worker Power: Building a Just Economy and Democracy,”
a proj­ect of the ­Labor and Worklife Program, Harvard Law School, n.d.
 •
6

T H E “­G R E AT R E­D I S T R I B U T I O N ”

1914–1980

Between 1914 and 1980, inequalities in income and wealth decreased

markedly in the Western world as a ­whole (the United Kingdom,
Germany, France, Sweden, and the United States), and in Japan,
Rus­sia, China, and India, although in dif­fer­ent ways, which we ­will
explore in a ­later chapter. H­ ere we ­will focus on the Western countries
and improve our understanding of how this “­great re­distribution”
took place.
The first f­ actor was the welfare state’s spectacular rise in power.
This long-­term development was in large mea­sure the result of social
strug­gles and mobilization of the socialist and ­labor movements since
the end of the nineteenth ­century. Nevertheless, it was greatly accel-
erated by the two world wars and the Depression following the stock
market crash of 1929—­three events that in the three de­cades between
1914 and 1945 completely overturned the power relationships between
­labor and capital. The second ­factor was the development of a very
progressive tax on income and inheritance, which made it pos­si­ble to
massively reduce the concentration of wealth and economic power at
the apex of the social hierarchy while at the same time favoring in-
creased mobility and greater prosperity. The progressive tax played a
decisive role in defining a new social and fiscal contract. Fi­nally, we
­shall see the essential role played by the liquidation of foreign and co-
lonial assets, and how the dissolution of public debt helped to reduce
122 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

inequalities and destroy perceptions of private property as sacred.

Rivalries among Eu­ro­pean powers and the intolerable character of
the inegalitarian colonial regime ­were critical ingredients in the sub-
sequent fall of Belle-­Époque socie­ties dominated by property ­owners.
The way in which Eu­rope was reconstructed a­ fter World War I, by
cancellation of its debts, also imparted lessons for the f­ uture.

The Invention of the Welfare State: Education,

Health Care, and Social Security
Between 1914 and 1980, the power of the fiscal and social state was to
undergo an unpre­ce­dented expansion in all Western countries. At the
end of the nineteenth c­ entury and at the beginning of the twentieth
­century, total tax receipts, including taxes, contributions, and obliga-
tory levies of all kinds, represented less than 10 ­percent of the national
income in Eu­rope and the United States. Between 1914 and 1980, this
tax burden tripled in the United States and more than qua­dru­pled in
Eu­rope. In France, Germany, Sweden, and the United Kingdom, tax
receipts have amounted to between 40 and 50 ­percent of the national
income since the 1980s and 1990s. Numerous studies have shown that
the fiscal state’s rise in power made a major contribution to the pro­
cess of economic development. The new receipts did in fact make it
pos­si­ble to finance expenditures that proved indispensable not only
for reducing inequalities but also for encouraging growth. ­These ex-
penditures included a massive and relatively egalitarian investment
in education and health care (or, at least, a much more massive and
egalitarian investment than any previous); expansion of transporta-
tion and other community infrastructure; the replacement income,
such as retirement pensions, necessary for supporting an aging popu-
lation; and reserves, such as unemployment insurance, for stabilizing
the economy and society in the event of a recession.1

1. See especially P. Lindert, Growing Public: Social Spending and Economic Growth
since the Eigh­teenth C
­ entury (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004).
 The “Great Redistribution” 123

60%
Use of tax receipts in % of national income
Other social welfare expenditures
Social welfare transfers (family, unemployment, etc.)
50% 47%
Health care (health insurance, hospitals, etc.)
Retirement and disability pensions 6%
40% Education (primary, secondary, higher)
Army, police, judicial system, administration, etc.
5%

30% 9%

11%
20%
2% 6%
10% 1%
8% 10%
6%
0%
1870 1880 1890 1900 1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 19. ​The Rise of the Welfare State in Eu­rope, 1870–2020

In 2020, tax receipts represented on average 47 ­percent of the national income in
Western Eu­rope and ­were spent as follows: 10 ­percent of the national income went
for state expenditures (army, police, judicial system, administration, and basic in-
frastructure, such as roads); 6  ­percent for education; 11  ­percent for pensions;
9 ­percent for health care; 5 ­percent for social welfare transfers (excluding pensions);
6 ­percent for other social welfare expenditures, such as housing. Before 1914, state
expenditures absorbed virtually all the tax receipts.
Note. “Eu­rope” is an average of France, Germany, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

If we examine the main Eu­ro­pean nations, we find that the increase

in tax receipts is explained almost entirely by the rise of social wel-
fare expenditures related to education, health care, retirement pen-
sions, and other transfers (see Figure 19). This transformation of the
role of the state through increased tax receipts and expenditures ac-
celerated between 1914 and 1950. On the eve of World War I as in the
nineteenth c­ entury, the focus of the Eu­ro­pean state was centered on
the maintenance of order and re­spect for the right of property, on the
domestic terrain as well as on the interstate and colonial scene. State
expenses, for the army, the police, the judicial system, general ad-
ministration, and basic infrastructure, consumed almost all the tax
revenues, or about 8 ­percent of the national income out of a total of
124 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

scarcely 10 ­percent. Other expenses, notably social welfare expenses,

had to make do with a bare 2 ­percent of the national income, of which
less than 1 ­percent went for education. Conversely, at the beginning
of the 1950s, the essential components of the welfare state ­were in place
in Eu­rope, with total receipts exceeding 30 ­percent of the national in-
come, and a diversified set of expenditures for education and welfare
that then consumed two-­thirds of the total. This upward trend for so-
cial welfare expenditures continued between 1950 and 1980.
We must emphasize the capital importance of expenditures for
education, both as a ­factor of equality and as a force driving develop-
ment. At the end of the nineteenth ­century and the beginning of the
twentieth, schools ­were extremely elitist and hierarchized. Only a
small minority of the population could hope to receive more than a
primary education and the first years of secondary education. Expen-
ditures for education began to grow between 1870 and 1910, while
generally remaining between 0.5 ­percent and 1 ­percent of the national
income, with the United States clearly ahead and the United Kingdom
just as clearly ­behind.2 Then the investment in education grew al-
most tenfold in the course of the twentieth c­ entury and reached about
6 ­percent of the national income in all Western countries during the
1980s and 1990s, making it pos­si­ble to finance almost universal ac-
cess to secondary education, with a clear advance in access to higher
education. Within this general landscape marked by the expansion
of education, the United States’ edge was particularly prominent
around the ­middle of the twentieth ­century. In the 1950s, the propor-

2. See T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2020), 517–522. In 1870 public expenditures for education (all levels taken
together) represented 0.7 ­percent of the national income in the United States, 0.4 ­percent
in France, and 0.2 ­percent in the United Kingdom. In 1910, they ­rose to 1.4 ­percent in
the United States, 1 ­percent in France, and 0.7 ­percent in the United Kingdom. In com-
parison, military bud­gets reached or exceeded 4 to 5 ­percent of the national income in
Eu­rope in the nineteenth ­century and at the beginning of the twentieth c­ entury. On the
global level, military expenditures fell from more than 6 ­percent of the national income
in 1960 (colonial wars, the Cold War) to 3 ­percent in 2020 (2 ­percent in Eu­rope, 4 ­percent
in the United States, 10 ­percent in Saudi Arabia).
 The “Great Redistribution” 125

tion of ­children aged twelve to seventeen (boys and girls taken to-
gether) enrolled in secondary education was already almost 80 ­percent
in the United States. At the same time, the rate of enrollment in
secondary schools was between 20 and 30  ­percent in the United
Kingdom and France, and barely reached 40  ­percent in Germany
and Sweden. In ­these four countries, the high rates of enrollment in
secondary schools seen in the United States in the 1950s ­were not
reached ­until the 1980s and 1990s.3 Japan, in an exacerbated competi-
tion with Western powers, had already distinguished itself by its ac-
celerated educational expansion between 1880 and 1930, and soon
matched and exceeded Western figures with secondary school enroll-
ments reaching 60 ­percent in the 1950s and more than 80 ­percent in
the early 1970s.
Generally speaking, at the end of the nineteenth c­ entury, govern-
ments ­were beginning to realize that education and training are a
­factor in national power, and not simply a ­matter of equality and
individual emancipation. The second industrial revolution, which
unfolded between 1880 and 1940  in chemical industries, the steel
industry, the production of electricity, the automobile industry, and
the manufacture of ­house­hold appliances, required much more job
training. During the first industrial revolution, and particularly in the
textile and coal industries, one could get along with a relatively mech-
anized workforce, overseen by foremen and a few engineers. During
the second industrial revolution, it became essential that an increas-
ingly large part of the l­abor force be capable of mastering manufac-
turing pro­cesses that required technical and digital education, and the
ability to understand detailed equipment manuals. That was how the
United States—­followed by Germany and Japan, who w ­ ere newcomers
on the international scene—­gradually surpassed the United Kingdom

3. In the nineteenth c­ entury, we find the same gap in primary school enrollments.
Around 1850, enrollments exceeded 80 ­percent in the United States, whereas in Ger-
many, France, and the United Kingdom similar rates of enrollment w ­ ere not reached
­u ntil 1890–1910.
126 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

in the new industrial sectors. The considerable gap observed between

the United States and the rest of the Western world in terms of the
productivity of ­labor in the ­middle of the twentieth ­century can be
explained to a considerable extent by the United States’ lead in educa-
tion. This lead was overcome in the course of the following de­cades, as
was the lead in productivity: since the 1980s–1990s, the GDP per hour
worked is almost exactly the same in the United States, Germany, and
France. Note in passing the importance of the choice of socioeconomic
indicators. Time spent at work is ignored in this kind of comparison—­a
debatable if widespread choice that fails to account for im­mense his-
torical pro­gress ­toward increased leisure time, paid vacations, and a
reduced work week, even though this question has been at the heart of
popu­lar and ­labor u­ nion mobilizations over the past two centuries.4

The Fiscal State’s Second Leap Forward:

An Anthropological Revolution
We must also emphasize the deep difference in nature between the
fiscal state’s first leap forward and its second. At the time of the first
leap forward, between 1700 and 1850, when the principal Eu­ro­pean
powers had moved from about 1–2 ­percent of the national income in
tax receipts to approximately 6–8 ­percent, this advance corresponded
chiefly to the growth of military and state expenditures.5 The state
was controlled by the aristocratic and bourgeois elites and was situ-
ated in the vanguard of interstate competition and commercial and
colonial expansion. Between 1914 and 1980, growth of the state was
led by social welfare expenditures. Considerations of power w ­ ere never
entirely absent, but this unpre­ce­dented extension of the state’s role

4. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 514–515. The historical movement demanding a re-
duction of the length of the workweek was also very impor­tant in the United States, but
considerably weaker than in Eu­rope, a fact which can be connected with the more l­ imited
development of the welfare state in general in the United States.
5. See Chapter 3, Figure 8.
 The “Great Redistribution” 127

took place primarily for the benefit of the lower and m ­ iddle classes,
and in large mea­sure ­under their control, or at least u­ nder that of the
po­liti­cal movements that represented them and that they had elected,
­under conditions entirely unpre­ce­dented in history.
In the United Kingdom, the ­Labour Party thus won an absolute
majority of the seats in the elections of 1945. The National Health Ser­
vice (NHS) and a vast system of social welfare insurance followed.
The most aristocratic country in Eu­rope, which ­until the constitutional
crisis of 1909 had been governed by the House of Lords, it became a
country in which a party both authentically popu­lar and labor-­focused
came to power and put its reforms in place. In Sweden, the country
where u ­ ntil 1910 property o
­ wners had a hundred voting rights, workers
kept the Social Demo­crats in power more or less continuously starting
in 1932. In France, in 1936, the Popu­lar Front set up paid vacations,
and the strong presence of communists and socialists in the parliament
and the government made it pos­si­ble to establish a system of social
security in 1945. In the United States, a popu­lar co­ali­tion carried the
Demo­crats and the New Deal to power in 1932, and posed a long-­lasting
challenge to the dogmas of laissez-­faire and the power of economic
and financial elites.6 The anthropological revolution was twofold. For
the first time in history on this scale, the state escaped the exclusive
control of the dominant classes. This was a result of universal suffrage,
parliamentary and representative democracy, the electoral pro­cess,
and frequent changes of power among dif­fer­ent po­liti­cal parties, the
­whole spurred on by an in­de­pen­dent press and the l­abor ­u nion
movement. This po­liti­cal system remains eminently perfectible, if
necessary by means of major constitutional revisions, but every­one

6. From 1950 to 1980, the ­Labour, Social Demo­cratic, Socialist, Communist, and
Demo­cratic parties continued to bring together the popu­lar vote, no m ­ atter which di-
mension of social stratification is selected (income, education, property). Th
­ ese co­a li­
tions gradually fell apart starting in 1980–1990, and this can be connected with the fact
that the redistributive platforms became less ambitious. See A. Gethin, C. Martinez-­
Toledano, and T. Piketty, Po­liti­cal Cleavages: A Study of Fifty Democracies, 1948–2020
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2021).
128 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

now knows that pro­g ress must emanate from egalitarian roots and
electoral democracy. Acknowl­edgment of this fact in the 1970s–1980s
contributed to the final delegitimation of the communist counter-­model:
if the latter produces both less po­liti­cal freedom and less social and
economic well-­being, then what’s the point?
The second lesson is that it is pos­si­ble to move beyond not only
censitary government, but also capitalism and generalized commod-
ification.7 Vast sectors of the economy, starting with education and
health care, and to a considerable extent transportation and energy
as well, have been or­ga­nized outside commercial logic, with vari­ous
systems of public employment, mutualist or nonprofit structures, sub-
sidies and investments financed by tax revenues. Not only has this
worked, but it has worked much more efficiently than in the private
cap­i­tal­ist sector. Even if some lobbyists in the United States continue
to claim the contrary (for obvious reasons, and unfortunately some-
times with a certain efficacy), every­one who cares about facts now
knows that public health-­care systems on the Eu­ro­pean model are
both less expensive and more efficient, in terms of well-­being and life
expectancy, than the private companies in the United States.8 In the
education sector, hardly anyone is proposing to replace elementary
schools, secondary schools, or higher education with corporations
governed by the logic of capitalism.9 What­ever the legitimate criti-

7. On the importance of the pro­cesses of decommodification in the construction of

dif­fer­ent types of welfare state, see G. Esping-­A ndersen, The Three Worlds of Welfare
Capitalism (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 1990). Compare K. Polanyi, The
­Great Transformation (New York: Farrar and Rinehart, 1944), on the generalized com-
modification of life in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and its role in the collapse
of Eu­ro­pean socie­t ies from 1914.
8. See, for example, P.-­C . Michaud et al., “Differences in Health between Americans
and Western Eu­ro­pe­a ns,” Social Science and Medicine 73, no. 2 (2011): 254–263; M.
Roser, “Link between Health Spending and Life Expectancy: The US Is an Outlier,” Our
World in Data, updated May 26, 2017; A. Case and A. Deaton, Deaths of Despair and the
­Future of Capitalism (Prince­ton: Prince­ton University Press, 2020).
9. Something like this was tried in Chile a­ fter 1973, and also in the United States
more recently with for-­profit universities such as Trump University. In both cases the
quest for profit undermined the ethical motivations on which education is founded.
 The “Great Redistribution” 129

cisms and debates regarding improvements to be made or ­whether a

further expansion is advisable, no po­liti­cal movement of significant
scope in countries that have experienced the rise of the fiscal and wel-
fare state in the course of the twentieth c­ entury is proposing a return to
a pre-1914 situation, when tax receipts represented less than 10 ­percent
of the national income.

The Invention of the Progressive Tax on

Income and Inheritance
Let us now come to the question of progressive taxation. ­Until the be-
ginning of the twentieth ­century, almost all the world’s fiscal sys-
tems ­were clearly regressive, in the sense that they ­were usually based
on sales taxes and indirect taxes representing a proportionately
heavier burden on the poorest ­people than on the wealthiest. The most
extreme case of a regressive tax is the poll tax or capitation, which is
a tax of a fixed amount for every­one. By definition, it represents a pro-
portion of a low-­paid employee’s income ten times larger than that of
a man­ag­er with a salary ten times higher.10 A proportional tax is a
tax representing a set percentage of income or assets, to be paid by all
social classes. Conversely, a progressive tax is characterized by a rate
of taxation that rises as income or wealth rises.11
The debates regarding progressive taxes have a long history. They
became more impor­tant in the eigh­teenth c­ entury, especially during
the French Revolution, when many pamphlets proposed systems quite
close to the taxes on income that would fi­nally be implemented on a

Similar results are found in health care and many other sectors, such as media and
culture.
10. The poll tax in the United Kingdom, defended in 1988 by Margaret Thatcher, was
so unpop­u ­lar that the Tory Party had to abandon the proj­ect in 1990 and choose a new
prime minister.
11. It w
­ ill be noted that the regressivity or progressivity of a tax can be defined in re-
lation to the level of income or the level of wealth. Both approaches are pertinent and
complement one another, b ­ ecause income and wealth constitute two complementary
indicators of an individual’s ability to contribute.
130 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

­t a bl e 1
Progressive Tax Proposals in Eighteenth-­Century France

Graslin: Progressive Income Tax

<csp>1</csp>

(Essai analytique sur la richesse et Lacoste: Progressive Inheritance Tax

<csp>1</csp>

l’impôt, 1767) (Du droit national d’hérédité, 1792)

Multiple of Multiple of
average income Effective tax rate average estate Effective tax rate

0.5 5% 0.3 6%

20 15% 8 14%

200 50% 500 40%

1,300 75% 1,500 67%

Note: In the progressive income tax proposed by Graslin in 1767, the effective tax
rate ­rose gradually from 5  ­percent on an annual income of 150 livres tournois
(roughly half the average income of the time) to 75 ­percent on an income of 400,000
livres tournois (roughly 1,300 times the average). Lacoste’s proposed inheritance tax
exhibits similar progressivity. Source: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

large scale in the twentieth ­century. In 1767, the town planner Jean-­
Joseph-­Louis Graslin defended the idea of a tax scale in which an
income equal to half the average income would be subject to an effec-
tive tax rate of 5 ­percent, whereas a taxpayer with an income equal to
1,300 times the average income would have to pay a tax of 75 ­percent.
In 1792, the tax official Lacoste proposed a similar system for the in-
heritance tax: small legacies would pay a 6 ­percent tax and the larger
ones a tax of 67 ­percent (see T­ able 1). But with the exception of 1793–
1794, when progressive tax scales ­were briefly implemented, the Rev-
olution fi­nally ­adopted proportional or regressive taxes. All through
the nineteenth ­century, parents’ legacies to their ­children ­were taxed
at a rate of 1 ­percent, no ­matter what the amount. Taxes ­were higher
for legacies to ­brothers and ­sisters, cousins, and persons outside the
­family, but remained in­de­pen­dent of the amount. This rejection of
progressivity helps explain the increase in the concentration of prop-
erty up to 1914.
 The “Great Redistribution” 131

100%
90%
Top marginal income tax rate

80%
70%
60%
50%
United States
40%
United Kingdom
30%
Japan
20%
Germany
10% France
0%
1900 1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 20. ​The Invention of Progressive Taxation: Top Income Tax Rates,

1900–2020
The marginal tax rate applied to the highest incomes was on average 23 ­percent in
the United States from 1900 to 1932, 81 ­percent from 1932 to 1980, and 39 ­percent
between 1980 and 2020. In the same periods, the top rates ­were 30, 89, and 46 ­percent
in the United Kingdom; 26, 68, and 53 ­percent in Japan; 18, 58, and 50 ­percent in
Germany; and 23, 60, and 57 ­percent in France. Progressive taxation was greatest in
the ­middle of the ­century, particularly in the United States and the United Kingdom.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

It was not u
­ ntil the beginning of the twentieth c­ entury that pro-
gressive taxes w ­ ere established more or less everywhere within the
space of a few years. In the United States, the top tax rate for the fed-
eral income tax, that is, the rate applicable to the highest incomes,
­rose from 7 ­percent in 1913 to 77 ­percent in 1918, and eventually reached
94 ­percent in 1944 (see Figure 20). From 1932 to 1980, nearly half a
­century, the average top rate was 81  ­percent. Although the United
States took the lead, we also see spectacular development of both pro-
gressive income taxes and progressive inheritance taxes in the
United Kingdom, Germany, France, Sweden, and Japan (see Figure 21).
Could progressive taxes have been so quickly established without
the shock of World War I, and without the Bolshevik regime’s pres-
sure on the elites in cap­i­tal­ist countries? Strictly speaking, it is im-
possible to answer that question. The history of the world since 1914
132 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

100%
United Kingdom
90% United States
80% Japan
Top marginal rate applicable

Germany
to the largest inheritances

70% France

60%

50%

40%

30%

20%

10%

0%
00

10

20

30

40

50

60

70

80

90

00

10

20
19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

20

20

20
figure 21. ​The Invention of Progressive Taxation: Top Inheritance Tax Rates,
1900–2020
The marginal tax rate applied to the largest inheritances was on average 12 ­percent
in the United States from 1900 to 1932, 75  ­percent between 1932 and 1980, and
50 ­percent between 1980 and 2020. During the same periods, the top rates w ­ ere 25,
72, and 46 ­percent in the United Kingdom; 9, 64, and 63 ­percent in Japan; 8, 23, and
32 ­percent in Germany; and 15, 22, and 39 ­percent in France. Fiscal progressivity was
maximal at the ­middle of the ­century, particularly in the United States and the
United Kingdom. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

has been so completely altered by World War I and the events that
issued from it, starting with the Rus­sian Revolution in 1917, that it no
longer makes sense to imagine a twentieth ­century without the in-
terwar period, the USSR, and the Cold War.12 The invention of pro-
gressive taxation must nevertheless be seen as the consequence of both
a social and po­liti­cal movement and a long-­term protest movement.
This pro­cess was accelerated, of course, by multiple events (wars, rev-
olutions, economic crises), but the relative importance of the latter
varies greatly depending on the country, and we must remember,

12. E. Hobsbawm, The Age of Extremes: A History of the World 1914–1991 (New York:
Pantheon, 1994).
 The “Great Redistribution” 133

above all, that t­ hese events themselves did not just appear out of the
blue: they ­were in large mea­sure the product of the enormously strong
social and inegalitarian tensions of the time.
In the case of France, it is striking to note that parliamentary
groups de­cided to raise the top tax rate to 60 ­percent in the early 1920s,
even with power held by a conservative majority, the National Bloc,
one of the most right-­wing po­liti­cal groups in the history of the French
Republic. Before the war, the same groups rejected a 5 ­percent income
tax and then used e­ very means at their disposal to block its adop-
tion.13 A few years l­ater, it almost seemed as if po­liti­cal affiliation
mattered l­ittle in a po­liti­cal context completely transformed by war
and destruction, with millions dead and wounded. Postwar workers’
wages still had not recovered the purchasing power they possessed in
1914, nor did they when several waves of strikes threatened the country
with paralysis in May and June 1919, nor again in the spring of 1920.
Remedies had to be found, and no one ­imagined that the richest
­people would be spared. The socialist and communist danger played
an obvious role ­here: elites considered it safer to accept a very pro-
gressive tax than to run the risk of someday being faced with general
expropriation. But that does not mean, of course, that this same threat
might have materialized even without the assassination in Sarajevo
or the seizure of the Winter Palace. Movements favoring fiscal pro-
gressivity ­were already becoming more power­ful before the war, and
the conflict that followed prob­ably only lit the match.14

13. Before World War I, the republican elites used and abused this argument: France
had been made egalitarian thanks to revolution in 1789, and thus d ­ idn’t need a progres-
sive tax, even though data available at the time clearly demonstrated the extreme concen-
tration of wealth. If we include the 25 ­percent supplement that unmarried p ­ eople had to
pay, and the 10 ­percent supplement for married ­couples with no c­ hildren a­ fter two years
of marriage (proof of governments’ fiscal imagination), also a­ dopted in 1920 by the
National Bloc, then the top rate reaches 75 ­percent in 1923 and 90 ­percent in 1924 (­a fter
final supplements approved by the Co­a li­tion of the Left, for good mea­sure). For a history
of progressive taxation in France, see T. Piketty, Top Incomes in France in the Twentieth
­Century (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2018).
14. The creation of a progressive tax on inheritance (law of 25 February 1901) pre-
ceded that of the progressive tax on income (law of 15 July 1914, which was long blocked
134 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

The crucial importance of social and po­liti­c al movements is

confirmed by studies on other countries. Sweden’s hypercensitary
system was challenged as early as 1909–1911. The country was rela-
tively ­little affected by the two world wars, and it was above all the
Social Demo­crats’ coming to power that was decisive for the establish-
ment of both the welfare state and progressive taxation. In the United
Kingdom, the P ­ eople’s Bud­get of 1909 combined strongly progressive
taxation with social welfare programs, overcoming opposition from
the House of Lords and ultimately limiting their power in 1911. In the
United States, the federal income tax was established in 1913. This
event had nothing to do with World War I; rather, it was the outcome
of a long pro­cess of constitutional amendment that began in 1895. Its
passage testifies to the strength of the Progressive movement and the
demand for fiscal and economic justice that was being expressed in
the country at that time.15 We must also stress the central role played
by the stock market crash of 1929, an event more decisive and trau-
matizing in the United States than World War I or the Rus­sian Revo-
lution. The crisis made clear to every­one the need to regain control of
capitalism, and led Roo­se­velt to push fiscal progressivity to unpre­ce­
dented levels in the 1930s and 1940s.

Real Progressivity and the Social Contract:

The Question of Consent to Taxation
What ­were the real economic effects of fiscal progressivity? ­Here we
must put an end to a widely accepted notion, that the highest tax rates
­were never applied to anyone and had no substantial effect. It is true

by the Senate ­a fter it was ­adopted by the deputies in 1909, and fi­nally passed to finance
the war).
15. The pro­cess of revision was represented both by the Demo­crats (who had been
censured by the Supreme Court in 1895) and the P ­ eople’s Party (or Populist Party),
which was then defending a platform of land sharing, credit for small farmers, and op-
position to the takeover of the country’s government by stockholders, property o ­ wners,
and large corporations.
 The “Great Redistribution” 135

that the 70 ­percent or 80 ­percent tax rates affected only a small mi-
nority, generally the richest 1 ­percent (or even 0.1 ­percent).16 But the
fact is that at the beginning of the twentieth ­century, the distribution
of incomes and especially of properties was extremely concentrated:
the richest 1 ­percent held more than half the total wealth in France,
and almost two-­thirds in the United Kingdom. The richest .01 ­percent
held more than a quarter of the wealth in France, and more than a
third in the United Kingdom. If we exclude housing and focus on the
owner­ship of the means of production, the concentration appears
even greater. In other words, even if the 70 and 80 ­percent tax rates
concerned only the top hundredth or thousandth, t­ hese very restricted
groups had considerable weight in the inegalitarian regime that char-
acterized the property-­owning socie­ties of the Belle Époque. A me-
ticulous examination of French inheritance archives on the individual
level enables us to see to what point progressive taxation of incomes
and inheritances has weighed heavi­ly in ­favor of the deconcentration
of property that occurred between 1914 and 1950.17
In the case of the United States, if we take into account all the levies
(the federal income tax, but also all the other taxes and duties at all
levels of government), we can see that the fiscal system was very
strongly progressive between 1914 and 1980. Concretely, the effective
tax rates paid by the least wealthy 90 ­percent ­were considerably lower
than the country’s average tax rate, whereas the effective rates paid
by the richest thousandth and ten thousandth reached 60 to 70 ­percent,

16. The rate higher than 70 or 80 ­percent may be ­either a marginal rate (that applies
to the fraction of income or assets above this threshold) or an effective rate (which then
applies to total income or assets). Tax scales expressed directly in an effective rate w ­ ere
used, notably, by the Popu­lar Front in its fiscal reform of 1936. They have the im­mense
advantage of being more transparent and demo­cratic: every­one understands more
clearly who pays what and sees that income or assets must be very high indeed for effec-
tive rates to reach substantial levels.
17. T. Piketty, G. Postel-­Vinay, and J.-­L . Rosenthal, “The End of Rentiers: Paris 1842–
1957,” January 2018, WID.world.
 136 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Effective tax rate (all taxes) in % of income

80% The richest 0.01%
The richest 0.1%
70% The richest 1%
60% The population as a
whole
50% The least rich 90%

40%

30%

20%

10%

0%
1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 22. ​Effective Tax Rates and Progressivity in the United States, 1910–2020
From 1915 to 1980, the fiscal system was very progressive in the United States, in the
sense that the effective tax rates paid by the highest incomes (all taxes combined, in
­percent of total pretax income) ­were significantly higher than the average effective
rate paid by the population as a ­whole (and in par­t ic­u ­lar by the least rich 90 ­percent).
Since 1980, the fiscal system has been weakly progressive, with ­limited differences
between effective tax rates. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

or more than three times the average rate (see Figure 22).18 The data
available for Eu­ro­pean countries confirm this conclusion. In other
words, during this period effective fiscal progressivity was a massive
and inescapable real­ity.
This strong progressivity had several consequences. First, it re-
duced in­equality and led to a decline in the concentration of income
and property among the most well-­off, and second, it altered overall
the social contract and increased collective ac­cep­tance of higher taxes
and greater socialization of wealth. Between 1914 and 1980, modest
and middle-­level taxpayers (salaried employees, in­de­pen­dent workers,
or o
­ wners of small and medium-­sized companies) could be certain
that the most well-­off economic actors (individuals with large incomes,
many assets, and more prosperous companies) would be asked to pay

18. ­Here we also take into account the tax on corporations (attributed to the dif­fer­ent
centiles of the stockholders concerned), property tax (attributed to the centiles of prop-
erty ­owners), taxes on consumption (attributed to the centiles of consumers), and so on.
 The “Great Redistribution” 137

taxes at a rate considerably higher than theirs. T

­ oday, the situation is
completely dif­fer­ent: real progressivity has dis­appeared when it has
not been transformed into regressivity, in the sense that the wealth-
iest p
­ eople sometimes succeed in paying taxes at effective rates lower
than those paid by the ­middle and lower classes, and large companies
often succeed in paying at a tax rate lower than that of small and
medium-­sized companies.19 This poses a serious risk to the po­liti­cal
acceptability of taxation and the legitimacy of the system of social
solidarity as a w
­ hole.

Progressive Taxation, a Tool for Reducing

Inequalities before Taxes
­ ere we must underline another essential lesson to be learned from
H
the period 1914–1980, namely that fiscal progressivity made it pos­
si­ble to reduce inequalities not only ­a fter taxes, but also and espe-
cially before taxes (sometimes called predistribution, in contrast to
re­distribution).20 This conclusion may seem paradoxical, but in real­ity,
it is rather obvious. It is particularly clear in the case of progressive
inheritance taxes, which reduce inequalities in fortune to the fol-
lowing generation. It would be even clearer if the inheritance tax
­were used to redistribute the legacy to the benefit of all t­ hose who in-
herit next to nothing, and if the annual wealth tax ­were also used to
implement a permanent re­distribution of capital. That is also the case
for the progressive income tax, especially with almost confiscatory
rates of 80 to 90 ­percent for the highest incomes. If high incomes pro-
ceeded from capital (dividends, interest, rents, e­ tc.), as many of them
did during the Belle Époque and the interwar period, then such rates

19. Thus, in 2018–2019 the effective rate paid by the 400 largest taxpayers in the
United States fell below that paid by less wealthy taxpayers. See E. Saez and G. Zucman,
The Triumph of Injustice (New York: W. W. Norton, 2019). ­These estimates do not take
into account what is directly observable, and largely ignore the sophisticated strategies
for optimizing and avoiding taxes.
20. A. Bozio, B. Garbinti, J. Goupille-­Lebret, M. Guillot, and T. Piketty, “Predistribu-
tion vs. Re­distribution: Evidence from France and the U.S.,” October 2020, WID.world.
138 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

compelled the very wealthy to adopt a less extravagant way of life,

­because if they did not, they ran the risk of finding themselves forced
to amputate their capital irremediably by selling off an increasing por-
tion of their enterprises and goods. This effect played a role in the
gradual deconcentration of wealth and the replacement of the very
top wealth holders by the patrimonial ­middle class. If we examine
incomes from work, and in par­t ic­u ­lar the high remunerations paid
to man­ag­ers, we find that t­ hese tax rates drastically decrease the pos-
sibility of accumulating large fortunes, and above all, they radi-
cally transform the conditions for negotiating and setting ­these very
generous remunerations, and thus in the end benefit t­ hose with the
smallest remunerations.
The available data show that this second effect was very impor­tant,
especially in the United States. Concretely, the 80–90 ­percent tax rates
implemented u ­ nder Roo­se­velt and during the postwar period led
companies to put an end to the most astronomical remunerations,
whose cost increasingly appeared to be excessive when compared with
the real benefit to the man­ag­er and with alternative uses. ­These super-­
remunerations melted away, which left more funds to be invested
and used to raise lower salaries. The data show that the redistributive
effect of confiscatory tax rates was principally the result of predistri-
bution, which also implies that a s­ imple examination of the effective
tax rates paid by the vari­ous centiles allows us to mea­sure only part
of the total effect. Comparison of dif­fer­ent countries also indicates
that this fiscal mechanism was even more efficient when employees
became involved in setting and monitoring remunerations and salary
scales (for example, through ­union representatives on boards of di-
rectors in Germanic and Nordic Eu­rope or on the War ­Labor Board
in the United States).21 The data available at the level of the compa-
nies and of the dif­fer­ent sectors and countries concerned also allow

21. This was a tripartite authority (government, u

­ nions, employers) set up to mon-
itor salaries and smooth social relations. See C. Goldin and R. A. Margo, “The ­Great
Compression: The Wage Structure in the United States at Mid-­Century,” Quarterly
Journal of Economics 107, no. 1 (1992): 1–34.
 The “Great Redistribution” 139

us to establish that beyond a certain level, t­ here is no meaningful re-

lation between man­ag­ers’ salaries and their economic per­for­mance,
and that ­these remunerations have mainly negative effects on low and
middle-­level salaries.22
On this subject, let us add that the rise in power of strongly pro-
gressive taxation seems in no way to have discouraged innovation or
productivity. In the United States, the national income per inhabitant
­rose at a rate of 1.8 ­percent per annum between 1870 and 1910 without
an income tax, and then at 2.1 ­percent between 1910 and 1950 a­ fter its
introduction, and at a rate of 2.2 ­percent between 1950 and 1990, when
the top tax rate reached, on average, 72 ­percent. The top rate was then
cut in half, with the announced objective of boosting growth. But in
fact, growth fell by half, reaching 1.1 ­percent per annum between 1990
and 2020 (see Figure 23). Beyond a certain level of in­equality, repeat-
edly increasing differences in income and wealth has clearly had no
positive effect on economic dynamism.23 In sum, all the data at our
disposal ­today suggest that virtually confiscatory tax rates have
been an im­mense historical success. They have made it pos­si­ble to
greatly reduce the divergences of fortunes and incomes, while at
the same time improving the situation of the m ­ iddle and lower
classes, developing the welfare state, and stimulating better economic
and social per­for­mance overall. Historically, it is the ­battle for
equality and education that has made economic development and
­human pro­gress pos­si­ble, and not the veneration of property, sta-
bility, and in­equality.24

22. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 532–534.

23. We find the same results in Eu­rope: fiscal progressivity was maximal during the
period between 1950 and 1990, and so was growth, which l­ ater decreased, along with
progressivity. The results, however, are harder to interpret in the case of Eu­rope.
Growth ­t here was particularly weak between 1910 and 1950 owing to the wars, leading
to a catch-up effect ­later on. ­There is no catch-up effect of this kind in the United States
(growth from 1910 to 1950 is intermediary between t­ hose of the periods 1870–1910 and
1950–1990), and this makes the comparison more meaningful. See Piketty, Capital and
Ideology, 543–547, figs. 11.12–11.15.
24. On this subject, note the stagnation of educational investment since 1980–1990
(Figure 19), an evolution that is paradoxical on the historical scale, given the increase in
 140 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

2.6% 90%
Annual growth of per capita national income

2.4% 80%

Top marginal income tax rate

2.2% 70%

2.0% 60%

1.8% 50%

1.6% 40%

1.4% 30%

1.2% 20%
Growth (left axis)
1.0% 10%
Progressive tax (right axis)
0.8% 0%
1870–1910 1910–1950 1950–1990 1990–2020

figure 23. ​Growth and Progressive Taxation in the United States, 1870–2020

In the United States, growth of per capita national income increased annually by
2.2 ­percent from 1950 to 1990, and by 1.1 ­percent from 1990 to 2020, whereas during
the same period the top marginal tax rate applied to the highest incomes fell from
72 ­percent to 35 ­percent. The promised resurgence of growth when the top marginal
tax rate was lowered did not occur. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

The Liquidation of Colonial Assets and Public Debts

­ fter the welfare state and progressive taxation, the third f­ actor char-
A
acterizing the “­great re­distribution” of the 1914–1980 period is the
liquidation of foreign and colonial assets and then of the public debts
that had been incurred during that period. On the eve of World War I,
property ­owners’ prosperity seemed unshakeable. The total value of
private assets ranged from six to eight years of national income in
the United Kingdom, France, and Germany (see Figure 24).25 More-

the number of university students, and that appears to be one of the most plausible ex-
planations for the decline of growth.
25. The available sources allow us to estimate that the total value of private proper-
ties was located at about this level from 1700 to 1914 in the United Kingdom and France,
but with a radical transformation of the forms of property: agricultural land repre-
sented two-­t hirds of goods at the beginning of the eigh­teenth ­century, and then was
gradually replaced by industrial and international unmovable assets. See T. Piketty,
 The “Great Redistribution” 141

800%
750%
700% United Kingdom
Total private assets (net of debt)

650% France
in % of national income

600%
550% Germany
500%
450%
400%
350%
300%
250%
200%
150%
70

80

90

00

10

20

30

40

50

60

70

80

90

00

10
18

18

18

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

20

20
figure 24. ​Private Property in Eu­rope, 1870–2020
The market value of private property (real, occupational, and financial assets, net of
debt) was around six to eight years of national income in Western Eu­rope from 1870
to 1914, before collapsing from 1914 to 1950 and settling at around two to three years
of national income from the 1950s to the 1970s, and then increasing again to around
five to six years in the period between 2000 and 2020. Sources and series: piketty.
pse.ens.fr/equality

over, t­ hese assets w

­ ere very concentrated: the richest 10 ­percent held
between 80 and 90 ­percent of the total. Between 1914 and 1950, we see
a veritable collapse of private property: the total value of goods was
between two and three years of national income in the 1950s, and then
began to increase slowly again up to our own time, without, however,
fully returning to its starting point, and especially without ever re-
gaining its e­ arlier concentration.26 This collapse of private property
is explained, first, by the destruction of goods (such as factories, build-
ings, and ­houses) caused by ­battles and bombardments during the
two world wars: this represented between a quarter and a third of the

Capital in the Twentieth C ­ entury (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard Univer-
sity Press, 2014), 116–118, figs. 3.1–3.2.
26. See Chapter 2, Figure 6.
142 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

decline in France and Germany (and a few ­percent in the United

Kingdom). It is also explained by a set of policies that sought deliber-
ately to reduce the power of property ­owners (rent freezes, national-
izations, financial and economic regulation, and ­labor ­union rights,
among ­others). ­These very diverse policies all sought to reduce the
monetary value of goods for private property o ­ wners but not their so-
cial value for consumers: thus it was a question of redistributing
power and not of losing real value. Fi­nally, the third and most impor­
tant reason—­responsible for between a third and half of the collapse in
France and Germany (and almost two-­thirds in the United Kingdom)
was the liquidation of foreign assets and then of public debts.27 ­There,
too, it is essentially a question of re­distribution and not destruction:
colonized ­peoples and postwar taxpayers became freer as a result.
This liquidation took place in two phases: the foreign assets w ­ ere
destroyed or transformed into public debts, and then the latter ­were
themselves liquidated. To properly understand t­ hese events, we must
first recognize that at the beginning of the twentieth c­ entury inter-
national assets had reached a level completely unpre­ce­dented in his-
tory and never attained since (see Figure 25). For instance, in 1914, net
foreign assets ­rose to almost two years of national income for British
property o ­ wners (or more than a quarter of what they owned), and
almost a year and a half for French property o ­ wners (nearly a fifth of
their possessions). Th
­ ese assets w
­ ere held in the colonial empires, such
as the rubber plantations in Indochina and the timber industry in the
Congo, but also in many territories that ­were not, strictly speaking,
colonies, but with which the United Kingdom and France maintained
very hierarchized relations—­for example, the oil wells in the Ottoman
Empire and Persia, the railroads and public and private debt securities
in Rus­sia, China, and Latin Amer­i­ca. The importance of colonial and
international assets is clearly vis­i­ble at the individual level in Pa­ri­sian
inheritance rec­ords. Between 1872 and 1912, foreign investments r­ ose

27. For a more detailed analy­sis, see Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 432–441.
 The “Great Redistribution” 143

200%
Foreign asset holdings (net of liabilities)

180% United Kingdom France

Germany Japan
160% United States China
as % of national income

140%
120%
100%
80%
60%
40%
20%
0%
–20%
–40%
1810 1830 1850 1870 1890 1910 1930 1950 1970 1990 2010

figure 25. ​Foreign Assets in Historical Perspective: The Franco-­British Colonial

Apex
Net foreign assets, that is, the difference between foreign asset holdings by residents
of each country (including the government) and assets held in each country by
property ­owners in the rest of the world, r­ ose in 1914 to 191 ­percent of national in-
come in the United Kingdom and to 125 ­percent in France. In 2020, net foreign as-
sets reached 82  ­percent of national income in Japan, 61  ­percent in Germany, and
19 ­percent in China. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

from 6 ­percent to 21 ­percent in the total of goods transmitted ­after a

death, with a still greater increase in the largest inheritances.28
­These international investments returned considerable income in
the form of profits, dividends, interest, rents, and royalties to their
­owners: about 5 ­percent of supplementary income for France (or the
equivalent of the total industrial production of the departments in the
country’s north and east, which are the most industrialized), and al-
most 10 ­percent for the United Kingdom.29 This is also what allowed
the two principal powers of the time to be almost constantly in com-
mercial deficit with regard to the rest of the world between 1880 and

28. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 133–137, ­table 4.1.

29. This way of accounting in terms of money is revealing, but it underestimates the
­actual size of colonial extraction, which can be correctly gauged only by favoring a mul-
tidimensional approach expressed in terms of material flows (such as cotton, wood, and
oil). See Chapter 3.
144 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

1914, between 1 and 2 ­percent of the national income, on average: the

revenues derived from foreign assets largely covered this deficit, while
at the same time leaving considerable financial means that made it
pos­si­ble to continue colonizing the rest of the world and accumulating
new assets. In real­ity, the pace of the accumulation of foreign assets
by France and Britain between 1880 and 1914 was so excessive that it
simply became untenable in the long term, for reasons both external
and internal. The accumulation was so rapid that had it continued a
few de­cades longer, Eu­ro­pean powers would have been in a position
to colonize almost the ­whole planet. The logic of colonial extraction
and of ­these international possessions was often accompanied by vio­
lence. This considerable brutality took the form of virtually forced or
poorly paid ­labor, degraded working conditions, discrimination, and
more generally a g­ reat indifference to h ­ uman suffering.30 This treat-
ment could only help feed national liberation movements and ­favor
their final victories, a pro­cess the two world wars merely accelerated.
Within Eu­rope, the magnitude of the financial flows and of the
profits realized was known to every­one, and colonial assets aroused
increasingly ferocious greed and rivalries.31 Germany—­which had
become, at the end of the nineteenth ­century and the beginning of
the twentieth, the continent’s leading power, demographically and
industrially—­was much less well endowed with foreign assets than the
United Kingdom and France w ­ ere. The Moroccan crisis of 1911 almost

30. See Chapter 4. The Irish famine of 1845–1848, which left around 1 million dead
and sent 1.5 million emigrants abroad from a total population of 8 million, has often been
compared, in its magnitude, to the Bengal famine of 1943–1944, which killed 4 million
out of a population of 50 million. In Ireland, as in Bengal, the British elites knew what
was happening and refused to take the steps required to avoid a tragedy, in some cases
with the almost explicit goal of a Malthusian regulation of an impoverished population,
and a rebellious one at that. During the following de­cades, the Irish famine fed a deep
resentment ­toward British property o ­ wners, refusal to pay rents, and occupation of
plots of land, followed by a power­f ul movement that led first to the re­d istribution of
land and then to that country’s in­de­pen­dence.
31. In his classic book Imperialism, The Highest Stage of Capitalism (1916), Lenin had
used, of course, the statistics on financial investments available at that time to show the
enormity of the colonial powers’ race to seize natu­ral resources.
 The “Great Redistribution” 145

triggered hostilities, but Germany fi­nally accepted the Franco-­British

agreement of 1904 regarding Morocco and Egypt, while at the same
time obtaining a compensation in Cameroon. This made it pos­si­ble
to delay war for a few years. The next spark ignited the conflict.
The beginning of hostilities led to the collapse of foreign assets.
British and French possessions w ­ ere reconstituted to some extent
during the 1920s, partly thanks to the distribution of German colo-
nial assets, but then dis­appeared definitively following World War II.
Between 1914 and the 1950s, history’s greatest international posses-
sions totally dis­appeared (see Figure 25). This is explained in part by
a series of expropriations following revolutionary pro­cesses and wars
of in­de­pen­dence. A­ fter the 1917 revolution, the new Soviet state de­
cided to repudiate all the debts accumulated by the czarist regime. In
1918–1920, a military expedition was conducted in northern Rus­sia by
the United Kingdom, France, and the United States, in the hope of
crushing the revolution, but it failed. At the other end of the period,
Egypt de­cided in 1956 to nationalize the Suez Canal, which had given
its Franco-­British stockholders solid dividends ever since it was con-
structed in 1869. Once again, the United Kingdom and France envi-
sioned a military operation, as they had so often done in the past. But
this time they ­were let down by the United States, which could not
take the risk of allowing the global South to fall into the hands of the
Soviet Union. The colonial powers no longer existed.
In addition to the expropriations, the wars themselves ­were to cost
Eu­ro­pean property ­owners dear. To finance an unpre­ce­dented level
of vio­lence, holders of foreign assets sold an increasing share of their
credits to make loans to their governments, which, as was only proper,
promised to repay them, cash on the barrelhead, ­after the war. This
promise could never be kept. In the hope of being able to bail out its
property o ­ wners, the French state imposed an incredible war debt on
Germany in the Treaty of Versailles: around 300  ­percent of the
German national income, at a time when the country was already on
its knees. (It ­will be noted that this is approximately the same pro-
portion of the national income as the debt imposed on Haiti in 1825,
146 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

about 300 ­percent, with the difference being that Germany had the
means to defend itself.) The French authorities considered the amount
justified: in 1871, France was obligated to pay the equivalent of
30 ­percent of its national income to Germany, and the damage caused
by the fighting between 1914 and 1918 was far more extensive. In real­ity,
the system had reached the point of breakdown. In Mein Kampf,
written in 1924 when French troops ­were occupying the Ruhr to re-
cover their property, Adolf Hitler constantly refers to this infamous
tribute—­which was imposed, moreover, by a p ­ eople in demographic
decline—­a nd concludes that only the formation of a superior state
power would make it pos­si­ble for the German ­people to hold their
heads high and fi­nally carve out their own colonial empire.32 The fi-
nancial crash of 1929, followed by the ­battles of World War II, led to
the ultimate collapse of colonial assets and the powers that had dom-
inated the world ­until 1914, powers that ­were inseparably connected
to property owner­ship and colonialism.

The Reconstruction of Eu­rope through the

Cancellation of Public Debts
Around 1945–1950, the principal Eu­ro­pean states w ­ ere saddled with
enormous public debts: between 200 and 300 ­percent of the national
income (see Figure 26). In large part, t­ hese w
­ ere the result, thirty years
­later, of foreign assets that had been gradually sold to finance wars
(see Figure 25). Most of ­these countries chose not to repay these debts.
They instead turned to other economic and social priorities, com-
bining three series of mea­sures that had already been tried a­ fter World
War I: cancellations pure and ­simple, inflation, and exceptional levies

32. Along with its pathological anti-­Semitism, the text’s other ­g reat obsession was
the “hordes of blacks” that the French occupying force had brought to the banks of the
Rhine. Hitler suspected the French of preparing to wipe out “the last remains of pure
blood” and seeking to constitute “an im­mense mixed-­blood state that would extend
from the Congo to the Rhine.” The fear of the “­g reat replacement” was already accom-
panied by a fear of a g­ reat mixing of blood. See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 471–479.
 The “Great Redistribution” 147

on private wealth. In France, inflation exceeded 50 ­percent per annum

for four consecutive years, from 1945 through 1948. The public debt
was destroyed, as surely as a factory could be destroyed by bombard-
ment. The prob­lem was that millions of ordinary ­people with small
savings accounts ­were also ruined, whereas wealthier individuals
who had sold their public debt securities at the right time and bought
stocks or real estate instead w­ ere affected ­little or not at all. This in-
flation aggravated a poverty already endemic among el­derly ­people
in the 1950s and aroused a deep feeling of injustice. In West Ger-
many, where the traumatic memory of the hyperinflation of 1923 was
still very near, more sophisticated solutions ­were tried. The monetary
reform of 1948 replaced old debt securities worth a hundred German
marks with securities worth 1 mark in the new money, while at the
same time protecting the smallest savings with the help of a scale.
The debt dis­appeared without provoking inflation. Above all, in
1952, the Bundestag a­ dopted a mechanism known as “burden-­
sharing” (Lastenausgleich), which consisted in a levy of up to 50 ­percent
on the largest financial, business, and real estate assets (what­ever their
nature), making it pos­si­ble to finance compensations for holders of
small and middle-­sized fortunes crippled by the destructive effects
of war and monetary reform. The system was far from perfect, but it
involved considerable sums (about 60  ­percent of the German na-
tional income in 1952, with payments spread over thirty years), and it
represented an ambitious and largely successful attempt to recon-
struct the country on a more just basis of social equality.33 Germany
also benefited from a cancellation of its foreign debt during the London
Conference of 1953, which helped increase the margins available
for reconstruction, social welfare expenditures, and investments in

33. See the fascinating book by M. L. Hughes, Shouldering the Burdens of Defeat:
West Germany and the Reconstruction of Social Justice (Chapel Hill: University of North
Carolina Press, 1999). Compare S. Bach, “Die Linke Capital Levy: Revenue and Distri-
butional Effects,” DIW Berlin, German Institute for Economic Research, October 30,
2020, for a similar, stimulating comparison recently debated in the Bundestag with the
goal of extinguishing the Covid debt.
 148 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

300%
Public debt in % of national income

United Kingdom
250%
France
200% Germany
United States
150%

100%

50%

0%
50

60

70

80

90

00

10

20

30

40

50

60

70

80

90

00

10

20
18

18

18

18

18

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

19

20

20

20
figure 26. ​Fluctuations in Public Debt, 1850–2020
Public debt grew rapidly following the two world wars, reaching between 150 and
300 ­p ercent of national income in 1945–1950. It then fell suddenly in Germany
and France (debt cancellations, exceptional taxes on private wealth, high inflation), and
more gradually in the United Kingdom and the United States. The debt increased
sharply again following the financial crises and epidemics of 2008 and 2020.
Note: The German debt issuing from the Treaty of Versailles (1919) is not taken into
account h­ ere. It amounted to more than 300 ­percent of the national income at the
time, and reimbursement never r­ eally began. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/
equality

infrastructure and training.34 In Japan, the exceptional levy imple-

mented in 1946–1947 affected 90 ­percent of the largest portfolios and also
made it pos­si­ble to accelerate the settlement of war-­related accounts.
Retrospectively, t­ hese policies ­were very successful, in the sense
that they made it pos­si­ble to get rid of the debts of the past in just
a few years and turn ­toward the ­future and reconstruction. If it
had been necessary to pay off ­these debts by ordinary means, without

34. More precisely, the internal debt was suspended in 1953, and then fi­nally can-
celled when Germany was re­u nited in 1991. See G. Galofré-­Vilà, C. Meissner, M. McKee,
and D. Stuckler, “The Economic Consequences of the 1953 London Debt Agreement,”
Eu­ro­pean Review of Economic History 23, no. 1 (2018): 1–29.
 The “Great Redistribution” 149

cancellation or inflation, without exceptional levies on private wealth,

and with bud­getary deficits accumulating year ­a fter year, then we
would still be reimbursing interest to heirs who received colonial and
domestic assets from the period before 1914. This strategy of reim-
bursing property o ­ wners over the long term was the one chosen by
the United Kingdom in the nineteenth c­ entury, though it is true that
it is hard to see what government could have imposed this a­ fter the war,
or, moreover, what government could establish it in ­future de­cades.
However, we must remember that the decisions made in 1945–1950
involved gigantic po­liti­cal ­battles and ­were bitterly debated. ­After a
long and conflict-­ridden pro­cess, the liquidation of international as-
sets and public debts ultimately played a major role in the reduction of
income and property inequalities, enabling the “­great re­distribution”
that took place between 1914 and 1980.
 •
7

D E M O C R A C Y, S O C I A L I S M , A N D

P R O G R E S S I V E TA X AT I O N

Let us turn now ­toward the ­future. The “­great re­distribution” of the
period between 1914 and 1980 was no piece of cake, much less a ban-
quet, but from it ­we’ve gleaned some valuable lessons. The main lesson
is the following: the welfare state and progressive taxation are power­ful
tools allowing us to transform capitalism. The movement ­toward
equality can be resumed only if t­ hese institutions become the object
of a vast movement and a collective appropriation. It is also crucial
to gauge correctly the limits of what t­ hese institutions accomplished
in the twentieth c­ entury and the ­factors that led to their weakening
since 1980. I ­will emphasize in par­tic­u­lar the damage done by finan-
cial liberalization and the ­free circulation of capital, as well as the stra-
tegic conclusions that w ­ ill be required to escape this framework.

The Limits of Equality:

The Hyperconcentration of Property
First, we must remember the l­imited extent of the march t­oward
equality that took place in the course of the past ­century. The most
striking fact is the per­sis­tence of a hyperconcentration of property (see
Figure 27). Granted, in Eu­rope we see the emergence, over the long
term, of a patrimonial m ­ iddle class. The 40 ­percent of the population
between the poorest 50 ­percent and the richest 10 ­percent owned
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 151

90%
Share of each class in total private property

80%
Top
70% 10%
Top
10%
60%

50% Top
10%
40%

30%

20% Next
40% Next
Bottom 40%
10% Bottom Next 50% Bottom
50% 40% 50%
0%
Europe (1913) Europe (2020) United States (2020)

figure 27. ​The Per­sis­tence of Hyperconcentration of Property

The share of the richest 10  ­ percent of total private property ­ owners reached
89 ­percent in Eu­rope (average of France, Sweden, and the United Kingdom) in 1913
(compared to 1  ­percent for the poorest 50  ­percent), 56  ­percent in Eu­rope in 2020
(compared to 6  ­percent for the poorest 50  ­percent), and 72  ­percent in the United
States in 2020 (compared to 2 ­percent for the poorest 50 ­percent). Sources and series:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

scarcely more than 10 ­percent of property in 1913; in 2020, they held

40 ­percent, especially in the form of real estate.1 It remains that in
Eu­rope in 2020 the poorest 50 ­percent still own nothing tangible
(5 ­percent of the total), whereas the richest 10 ­percent own 55 ­percent.
In other words, the average wealth of the former is 50 times smaller
than the average wealth of the latter (their share in the total is more
than ten times smaller, even though they are five times more nu-
merous). In the United States, the situation is still more extreme: the
poorest 50 ­percent owned barely 2 ­percent of the total in 2020, as op-
posed to 72 ­percent for the richest 10 ­percent, and 26 ­percent for the
patrimonial ­middle class. In terms of the concentration of wealth, in
2020 the United States is in a position between Eu­rope in 1913 and Eu­
rope in 2020, and is trending closer to the Eu­rope of 1913.

1. See Chapter 2, Figure 5.

152 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

It is striking to note the extent to which the United States and Eu­
rope inverted their relative positions in terms of in­equality over the
course of the twentieth ­century (see Figure 28). Eu­ro­pean fortunes
­were based above all on colonial and international assets (United
Kingdom and France) and on inegalitarian, censitary sociopo­liti­cal
systems (Sweden). When they could, members of the Eu­ro­pean
working class emigrated to the United States to find better wages t­ here.
­After two world wars, however, Eu­ro­pean ­labor u ­ nions and po­liti­cal
movements established new rules and transformed the face of the Con-
tinent. A more extensive and more ambitious welfare state emerged,
and this made pos­si­ble a greater reduction of inequalities than in the
United States. In Figure 28, we see the curves cross between 1960 and
1970, reversing the positions of the United States and Eu­rope. Since
1980, the gap has deepened in the other direction. In the United States,
the patrimonial ­middle class, which in wealth was almost equal to its
Eu­ro­pean counterpart at the beginning of the 1980s, was to see its
share of the country’s total wealth reduced by more than a quarter
between 1985 and 2020. The share of the poorest 50 ­percent fell to lower
and lower levels. In Eu­rope, the deepening of wealth in­equality has
been less marked, but we also see a gradual weakening of the position
of the ­middle 40 ­percent and especially of the poorest 50 ­percent, who
had ­little wealth at any time. No country, no continent is in a posi-
tion to strut or to lecture o ­ thers on this subject. Almost everywhere,
the economic and financial deregulation at work since the 1980s has
favored the largest financial portfolios and benefited hardly at all
­those in the poorest groups, who have often been saddled with debt.
We find similar developments in inequalities of income, which
have also started growing again since 1980, with an appreciably more
marked movement in the United States (see Figure 29). ­There again,
all the available data suggest that t­ hese developments are explained
by a set of po­liti­cal reversals on the social, fiscal, educational, and fi-
nancial levels. In the United States, the virulence of politicians op-
posed to ­labor ­unions and the collapse of the federal minimum wage
have been decisive in the fall of the lowest incomes. The US federal
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 153
Share of each class in total private property
100%
90%
80%
70%
Share of the richest 10% (United States)
60%
Share of the richest 10% (Europe)
50% Share of the middle 40% (United States)
Share of the middle 40% (Europe)
40% Share of the poorest 50% (United States)
Share of the poorest 50% (Europe)
30%
20%
10%
0%
1900 1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 28. ​Property in Eu­rope and the United States, 1900–2020: The Birth and
Fragility of a Patrimonial M
­ iddle Class
In Eu­rope as in the United States, we see between 1914 and 1980 a steep decline in
the share of the richest 10 ­percent in total private property (real, occupational, and
financial assets, net of debt), to the benefit principally of the m
­ iddle 40 ­percent. This
movement is partially reversed between 1980 and 2020, notably in the United States.
Note: “Eu­rope” is an average of France, Germany, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

minimum wage has fallen, when adjusted for inflation, from almost 11
dollars per hour in 1970 to 7.25 dollars in 2020, although many Demo­
cratic officials would like to raise it. Taking into account transfers in
kind connected especially with public health insurance (Medicare and
Medicaid) attenuates this diagnosis only minimally.2 The very strong
growth of the largest fortunes and the explosion of remunerations for
top executives, which is particularly marked in the United States, are
explained above all by the obstruction of progressive taxation. Pro-
gressive tax rates had climbed from 1932 to 1980 before reversing with
the same vigor a­ fter 1980, during the “conservative revolution.” In Eu­
rope, the welfare state and the fiscal state made it pos­si­ble to contain

2. T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard Uni-
versity Press, 2020), 522–535, figs. 11.5–11.10.
 154 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

60% Share of the richest 10% (United States)

Share of each group in national income

55% Share of the richest 10% (Europe)

50% Share of the poorest 50% (United States)

Share of the poorest 50% (Europe)
45%
40%
35%
30%
25%
20%
15%
10%
5%
0%
1900 1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 29. ​Income In­equality: Eu­rope and the United States, 1900–2020

In Eu­rope, income in­equality has started rising again since 1980, although remaining
at levels clearly lower than ­t hose of 1900–1910. The increase in in­equality has been
much greater in the United States. In both cases, in­equality has remained high: the
richest 10 ­percent, though five times fewer, still receive a share of total income much
larger than the poorest 50 ­percent receive.
Note: “Eu­rope” is an average of France, Germany, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

the resurgence of inequalities. The share of the richest 10 ­percent

dropped from 52 ­percent of total income in 1910 to 28 ­percent in 1980,
before climbing to 36 ­percent in 2020. The share ­going to the poorest
50 ­percent increased from 13 ­percent in 1910 to 24 ­percent in 1980, and
then fell again to 21 ­percent in 2020. In the end, inequalities of income
­were thus appreciably smaller in 2020 than in 1910—­a ll this with a
considerable increase in the average income in the course of the past
­century. ­There again, this must not make us forget that inequalities
still remained very g­ reat in absolute terms.
Eu­ro­pean socie­ties have never ceased to be hierarchical, and the
range of material disparities has again begun to broaden significantly
over recent de­cades. Achievements to date must be used to spur f­ uture
pro­gress, not to fuel self-­congratulation, which too often serves as an
excuse to justify all kinds of hypocrisies and renunciations.
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 155

The Welfare State and Progressive Taxation:

A Systemic Transformation of Capitalism
To continue the march t­ oward equality, the most natu­ral path seems
to be already blazed: we have to deepen and generalize the institu-
tions that made the movement ­toward equality, ­human pro­gress, and
prosperity pos­si­ble over the course of the twentieth c­ entury, starting
with the welfare state and progressive taxation. But to move forward
on this path, it is essential to arrive at a better understanding of the
limitations encountered by the institutions, as well as the f­ actors that
have weakened them since 1980. Between 1914 and 1980, it was social
and po­liti­cal strug­gles that made institutional change pos­si­ble. Without
a power­ful social and collective movement supporting further change,
the latter w ­ ill not happen. If the Reagan-­Thatcher revolution had
such an influence ­a fter 1980, it was not only ­because it benefited
from broad support within the dominant classes and a power­ful
network of influence through the media, think tanks, and po­liti­cal
financing (even if ­these f­actors obviously played a role). It was also
­because of the weaknesses of the egalitarian co­a li­t ion, which failed
to produce a convincing alternative narrative and nurture a sufficiently
strong popu­lar movement rallying around the welfare state and pro-
gressive taxation.
That is why it is vital to construct such a narrative and to show in
what way the welfare state and progressive taxation do in fact consti-
tute a systemic transformation of capitalism. When their logic is al-
lowed to fully unfold, ­these institutions represent an essential stage
on the way to a new form of demo­cratic socialism, decentralized and
self-­managing, ecological and multicultural, making it pos­si­ble to
structure a dif­fer­ent world that is far more emancipatory and egali-
tarian than the pre­sent one. Historically, the socialist and communist
movements have been constructed around a significantly dif­fer­ent
platform, namely state owner­ship of the means of production and
centralized planning, both of which have failed and have never ­really
been ­replaced by an alternative. In comparison, the welfare state and
156 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

especially progressive taxation have often appeared to be “soft” forms

of socialism, incapable of challenging the deep logic of capitalism.
Before World War I, progressive taxation was advocated in France by
the Radical Party, which called for “social reform respecting private
property.” The socialists w ­ ere skeptical about a reform that was l­ imited
to retroactively reducing the inequalities produced by the cap­i­tal­ist
system without r­ eally getting to the heart of the pro­cess of produc-
tion, without questioning its social relationships—­a pro­cess and re-
lationships that might even halt workers’ advance t­ oward proletarian
revolution. Th ­ ese historical origins and debates continue to permeate
repre­sen­ta­tions of demo­cratic socialism. It seems to me urgent to chal-
lenge them, for several reasons.
First of all, every­thing clearly depends on the degree of fiscal pro-
gressivity. A progressive tax with a maximal rate of 2 ­percent is not
the same t­ hing as a progressive tax with a rate of 90 ­percent. Our ex-
perience with progressive taxation in the twentieth ­century has
shown us that it is pos­si­ble to implement successfully almost confis-
catory tax rates at the highest level of the wealth hierarchy, but this
essential historical lesson remains largely unacknowledged. Second,
the question of progressive taxation must be envisioned as inseparable
from the question of the welfare state. As we have seen, in the course
of the twentieth ­century the construction of the welfare state took the
form of a power­ful movement to socialize wealth, with tax receipts
increasing from less than 10 ­percent of the national income before 1914
to about 40–50 ­percent since the 1980s and 1990s in the main Eu­ro­
pean nations. It thereby demonstrated that it was completely pos­si­ble
to or­ga­nize, beyond commercial logic, vast sectors of activity, notably
in health care and education, but also in culture, transportation, en-
ergy, and so on. No one can decide in advance how far such a pro­cess
­will go, w­ hether regarding the list of sectors concerned, the forms of
decentralized and participatory organ­izations that w ­ ill be developed
in ­these dif­fer­ent sectors—­hospitals and clinics, schools and univer-
sities, associations and foundations, local and state administrations,
cooperatives and local, state-­owned companies—or how and to what
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 157

extent they w ­ ill be collectively financed (perhaps someday 60 or

70 ­percent of the national income, or even more).3 What seems cer-
tain, however, is that it is impossible to envisage a new stage in the
socialization of wealth if we do not succeed in reestablishing the con-
viction that the system of collective financing is based on a rigorous
conception of fiscal and social justice. ­Unless the highest incomes and
fortunes are subjected to certified and verifiable levies, and thus ­unless
­there is a genuine renewal of progressive taxation, no new stage in the
construction of the welfare state and in the historical pro­cess of de-
commodification is conceivable.
We must also remember that progressive taxation, as it functioned
in the course of the twentieth ­century, enabled us not only to more
fairly distribute taxes on wealth and income but also to impose narrow
limits on inequalities before taxes. This role of predistribution and not
just re­distribution was absolutely central. It shows to what extent pro-
gressive taxation is also a form of intervention at the very heart of
the pro­cess of production—­together, of course, with other practices,
such as ­labor law or the presence of employees on boards of directors.
Let us stress that the drastic reduction of the salary scale that pro-
gressive taxation permits, particularly the 30–90 ­percent rates applied
to the highest incomes, is also an indispensable tool for confronting
the commercial sector on equal terms. If cap­i­tal­ist enterprises in the
information technology sector pay extravagant remunerations in

3. The debates on orga­nizational forms that make it pos­si­ble to reconcile centraliza-

tion and regulation optimally in the vari­ous sectors of the welfare state are endless and
can be only touched upon h ­ ere. In health care, it is often thought that the French system
constitutes a better compromise than the British model. That may be true in part, but
on the condition that access to care and physician incomes be genuinely regulated. In
higher education, the autonomy of individual institutions and decentralization is prob­
ably a good t­ hing, if they are accompanied by an appropriate system of public financing.
In the realm of culture and show business, the status of casual workers includes in­ter­
est­ing ele­ments, again on the condition that financing is adequate and accepted as cul-
tural policy. In the domain of ­water, energy, or transportation, much is to be learned
from the new forms of municipal management developed in several cities in Eu­rope
and other parts of the world.
158 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

order to poach almost all the most expert computer scientists on the
market, that can seriously complicate the task of the public agencies
entrusted with regulating them (­unless they choose to encourage the
race t­oward ever greater differences in pay). The same holds true in
finance or law. The fact that salaries have been reduced to a scale of
one to five and no longer one to twenty, or even one to a hundred, is
not only a m ­ atter of distributive justice. It is also a m
­ atter of efficiency
for public regulation, and it contributes to the construction of alter-
native modes of economic organ­ization.
Fi­nally, we must take into account the limits of what the welfare
state and progressive taxation have allowed us to accomplish in terms
of reducing inequalities of income and especially of wealth, and to find
ways of moving beyond them. Regarding differences in income, we
have already noted that the increase in income in­equality since 1980
was explained in part by the thwarting of progressivity. Such levels
of in­equality would be difficult to justify by considerations of incen-
tives or efficiency. In fact, this development was accompanied by a
50 ­percent decline in growth. The return of greater fiscal progressivity
would make it pos­si­ble to narrow the range of salaries once again. This
action would have to be accompanied by many other tools that would
support equality of access to training and negotiating power for em-
ployees and their representatives. The basic income systems currently
in place in most Eu­ro­pean countries suffer from multiple insufficien-
cies, notably regarding access for the youn­gest and for students, as well
as for persons who are homeless or who do not have bank accounts.
Moreover, it is essential that the basic income scheme also cover
people with low wages and income from work, along with a system
of automatic payment on pay stubs and the progressive income tax
system, without forcing recipients to ask for a handout. In addition,
we must emphasize that the modest amount envisaged for the basic
income, generally between half and three-­quarters of the minimum
wage for full-­time work, depending on the offers, can by construc-
tion be no more than a partial tool for combating inequalities. This
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 159

enables us to set a floor, which is essential, but on the condition that

we do not stop t­ here.4
A more ambitious tool that could be used along with basic income
is the system of guaranteed employment recently proposed in the con-
text of discussions of the Green New Deal. The idea is to make avail-
able to all a full-­time job at a minimum salary set at a decent level
($15 an hour in the United States). The financing would be provided
by the federal government, and the jobs would be offered by public
employment agencies in the public and nonprofit sectors. Following
in the footsteps of the Economic Bill of Rights proposed by Franklin D.
Roo­se­velt in 1944 and the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom
at which Martin Luther King Jr. spoke in 1963, such a system could
contribute powerfully to the pro­cess of decommercialization and to
the provision of public ser­vices, the transition to alternative energies,
and the renovation of infrastructure.5

Property and Socialism:

The Question of Decentralization
Let us now come to the question of wealth in­equality and the prop-
erty system. If we adopt a long-­term perspective, we may be struck
by the per­sis­tence of hyperconcentration of property. In par­tic­u­lar,
the poorest 50 ­percent have almost never had any substantial posses-
sions. If it w
­ ere pos­si­ble to wait u
­ ntil growth diffuses wealth, we would
have seen the effects long ago: that argument falls flat. The most

4. Taking into account its ­limited, minimalist amount, it seems to me more appro-
priate to speak of “basic income” rather than a “universal income.” On the automatic
payment of the basic income on pay slips, see P.-­A. Muet, Un impôt juste, c’est pos­si­ble!
(Paris: Seuil, 2018). In addition, this system makes it pos­si­ble to defend the salaried
status and to oppose the fragmentation of l­ abor.
5. P. Tcherneva, The Case for a Job Guarantee (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2020). Com-
pare the system of guaranteed employment proposed by A. B. Atkinson, In­equality:
What Can Be Done (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2015).
160 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

After the minimum

Share of each class in total inheritance
60% Current inheritance, financed
distribution by a progressive tax
50% on wealth and
inheritance
Highest
40% 10%
Middle
30% Lowest 40%
Middle 50%
20% 40%

Lowest Highest
10% 10%
50%

0%
Europe (2020) After redistribution of inheritance

figure 30. ​Re­distribution of Inheritance

The share of the poorest 50 ­percent in total inheritance was 6 ­percent in Eu­rope in
2020, as opposed to 39  ­percent for the m ­ iddle 40  ­percent and 55  ­percent for the
richest 10 ­percent. ­A fter implementing an “inheritance for all” (minimum wealth
equal to 60  ­percent of the average inheritance, paid at the age of twenty-­five), fi-
nanced by a progressive tax on wealth and inheritance, it would be 36 ­percent (as
opposed to 45 ­percent and 19 ­percent).
Note: “Eu­rope” is an average of France, Sweden, and the United Kingdom. Sources
and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

natu­ral way of escaping this situation would be to imagine a system

of inheritance re­distribution that enabled every­one to receive a min-
imal inheritance (see Figure 30). For example, this minimal inheri-
tance could be equal to 60 ­percent of the average wealth per adult
(120,000 euros if the average is on the order of 200,000 euros, as it
currently is in France), paid to each person at the age of twenty-­five.
This capital endowment could be financed by a combination of a pro-
gressive tax on wealth and on inheritances, levying approximately
5 ­percent of the national income, whereas the financing of the wel-
fare state and ecological programs (including basic income and guar-
anteed employment) would be financed by a unified system of pro-
gressive income taxes, including contributions for social welfare and
a tax on carbon emissions, levying about 45 ­percent of the national in-
come (see T ­ able 2).
­t a bl e 2
Circulation of Property and Progressive Taxation
Progressive income tax
<csp>1</csp>

(financing basic income,

guaranteed employment, and
Progressive property tax (financing the
<csp>2</csp> welfare and ecological
capital endowment to each young adult) benefits)

Effective tax
Multiple of Annual Multiple of rate (including
average property tax Inheritance tax average social taxes and
wealth (effective rate) (effective rate) income carbon tax)

0.5 0.1% 5% 0.5 10%

2 1% 20% 2 40%

5 2% 50% 5 50%

10 5% 60% 10 60%

100 10% 70% 100 70%

1,000 60% 80% 1,000 80%

10,000 90% 90% 10,000 90%

Note: The proposed tax system includes a progressive tax on property (annual tax
on net wealth and inheritance tax) financing a capital endowment for each young
adult and a progressive income tax (including social contributions and a progressive
tax on carbon emissions) financing basic income, social welfare, and ecological
mea­s ures. ­T hese might include health care, education, retirement pensions, unem-
ployment insurance, energy, and so on. This system of circulating property is one of
the constituent ele­ments of participatory socialism, with voting rights on corporate
boards shared between workers and stockholders.
In the example shown h ­ ere, the progressive tax on property brings in roughly
5 ­percent of national income (4 ­percent for the annual income tax and 1 ­percent for
the inheritance tax, allowing a capital endowment equivalent to 60  ­p ercent of
­average wealth at age twenty-­five) while the progressive income tax brings in roughly
45  ­percent of national income (allowing an annual basic income equivalent to
60 ­percent of average income ­a fter taxes—5 ­percent of national income) and the
state’s welfare and ecological programs (40  ­percent of national income). Source:
piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality
162 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

The primary objective of an inheritance for all is to increase the

negotiating power of every­one who owns almost nothing (that is,
about half the population). If you have nothing, or worse yet, if you
have only debts, then you must accept what­ever wages and working
conditions you can get, or almost. Basic income and guaranteed
employment are valuable tools for changing this situation and re-
balancing power relationships, but unfortunately they do not suffice.
Having 100,000 or 200,000 euros as a complement to basic income,
guaranteed employment, and all the rights associated with the most
extensive welfare state pos­si­ble (­free education and health care, retire-
ment pensions and highly redistributive unemployment benefits,
­labor law, and so on) changes the situation substantially.6 Recipients
could reject certain job offers, buy an apartment, engage in a personal
proj­ect, or create a small business. This freedom, which is certain to
delight some, may well frighten employers and property o ­ wners.
Several points must be clarified. First, the ­factors expressed in fig-
ures ­here are purely illustrative and might be set at more ambitious
levels. With the par­a meters used h ­ ere, ­t hose who currently inherit
nothing (approximately, the poorest 50 ­percent) would receive 120,000
euros, while t­ hose who inherit a million euros (which corresponds to
the average inheritance received by the richest 10 ­percent, with enor-
mous disparities) would receive 600,000 euros a­ fter taxes and endow-
ment. We see that we are still very far from equality of opportunity,
a princi­ple often defended at an abstract and theoretical level, but one
which the privileged classes fear like the plague as soon as any con-
crete application is envisaged. In theory, it would be completely pos­

6. Regarding retirement pensions, the extension of life expectancy and the chal-
lenge of de­pen­dency render even more obsolete the idea that pensions must be l­ imited
to reproducing unto the last breath the inequalities characterizing a person’s working
life. On the contrary, a unified and renovated retirement system o ­ ught to do all it can
to guarantee a better rate of replacement for the lowest salaries than for average and
high salaries, while at the same time being financed by a progressive tax on all in-
comes. This subject, among o ­ thers, also shows that the egalitarian co­a li­t ion needs to
formulate new, more ambitious programs, and must not continue to limit itself to de-
fensive postures.
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 163

si­ble (and in my opinion, desirable) to increase much further the re­

distribution of inherited wealth.
It ­will be noted that the proposed system of financing is based on
tax scales similar to ­those that ­were already used during the twen-
tieth c­ entury, with rates ranging from a few percentage points for as-
sets and income lower than average to 80–90 ­percent for the highest
assets and income. The main novelty is the recourse to a similar scale
for taxes for the annual wealth tax, and not solely for taxes on income
and on inheritance.7 This is absolutely essential if we want to expand
the re­distribution of property beyond what was achieved during the
twentieth ­century. Correctly applied and monitored, the annual
wealth tax makes it pos­si­ble to levy receipts far more substantial than
­those of the inheritance tax, and to improve re­distribution in propor-
tion to each individual’s ability to contribute.8 A specific tax scale
should ideally be applied to endowments held by foundations and
other nonprofit organ­izations as well, in order to avoid an excessive
concentration of power within a small number of entities and to en-
able less wealthy entities to develop.9

7. Very progressive tax scales have already been applied to property during major
historical episodes (in postwar Germany or Japan, or at the time of agrarian reforms in
numerous countries), but not as a permanent system. Most of the long-­lasting annual
taxes on assets have been strictly proportional or slightly progressive. Strictly propor-
tional taxes like the US property tax or the French taxe foncière have remained virtually
unchanged since the end of the eigh­teenth ­century. ­These are applied to both moveable
and immoveable property without any progressivity and without taking into account
financial assets and liabilities. Their rather heavy receipts—­about 2 ­percent of the national
income—­are very unfairly distributed. Slightly progressive taxes include the annual wealth
taxes applied in Germanic and Nordic Eu­rope during most of the twentieth ­century, or
in France intermittently since 1981. They feature rates not exceeding 2–3 ­percent, multiple
exemptions, and virtually no fiscal auditing, and so result in low receipts. See Piketty,
Capital and Ideology, 558–571.
8. Concretely, if a person has become a billionaire at the age of thirty or forty, it is
hard to understand why we have to wait u ­ ntil that individual is eighty or ninety to tax that
wealth. In addition, prioritizing the annual wealth tax (more popu­lar than the inheritance
tax, b
­ ecause it is better able to target the largest fortunes) would enable us to ensure
more efficiently that the ­middle classes benefited from the reform.
9. If the foundation is only an instrument in the ser­v ice of a private person, then its
endowment must naturally be taxed as such. If it is a nonprofit structure pursuing a
general interest, a specific scale must be provided. The available data show that the
164 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

We must also explain that re­distribution of property alone does not

suffice to transcend capitalism. If the objective ­were simply to replace
large property ­owners with small and middle-­sized property ­owners
who are just as greedy and careless of the social and environmental
consequences of their actions, then it would be of ­limited interest. The
proj­ect described ­here is of a quite dif­fer­ent nature. The re­distribution
of property is accompanied by very progressive tax scales that pre-
vent individuals from accumulating or polluting without limits, and
that can be made more demanding, if necessary.10 We could also
imagine that the function of the inheritance for all might be regulated,
for instance by limiting its use to housing purchases or the creation
of an enterprise devoted to social or environmental goals. The debate
is legitimate, as long as the same rules are applied equally to all in-
heritances and all heirs, and not only to the lower classes benefiting
from a minimal inheritance.
In addition, I assert that the idea of an inheritance for all presented
­here is meaningful only if it is added to systems of basic income and
guaranteed employment, which ­ought to be established first, and more
generally, only if the inheritance for all is added to an existing welfare-­
state system whose objective is the gradual decommercialization of
the economy. In par­tic­u­lar, fundamental goods and ser­vices in do-

largest endowments (for example, ­t hose of the richest universities in the United States)
have grown at a pace on the order of 7–8 ­percent per annum (over and above inflation)
between 1980 and 2018, figures close to ­t hose seen for the largest private fortunes, but
incommensurate with the growth of the world economy or smaller endowments (like
­t hose of other universities or small associations). See T. Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-­
First ­Century (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2017),
447–450; and Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 685–686.
10. In par­t ic­u ­lar, the carbon card for individuals, a credit card that tracks one’s
carbon footprint, is supposed to enable us to enforce re­spect for the limits on the
amount of global emissions set collectively, while at the same time concentrating our
efforts on the largest emissions and the richest taxpayers. It is crucial that the carbon
credit card be structurally connected with the scale of the progressive income tax, so as
to be able to neutralize automatically, for the lower and m ­ iddle classes, the negative im-
pact on purchasing power of the mea­sures occasioned by more restrictive emissions tar-
gets. See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 1004–1007.
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 165

mains such as education, health care, culture, transportation, or en-

ergy are by nature to be produced outside the commercial sphere, in
the context of public, municipal, group, or nonprofit structures. This
vast nonprofit sector is destined to grow, whereas the for-­profit sector,
in which the inheritance for all might be invested, would gradually
be reduced to a l­ imited number of activities, such as housing and small
businesses (notably in the craft industry, commerce, h ­ otels and res-
taurants, repairs, consulting, and so on).
Fi­nally, we must emphasize that the small-­and middle-­sized prop-
erties involved in the inheritance for all must be designed more as
social, temporary properties than as strictly private ones. Inheritance
would take place within a l­egal framework based on sharing power
with other users of capital, and within the framework of a tax that
drastically limits opportunities for accumulation and perpetuation.
Regarding power sharing in enterprises in the for-­profit sector, as
I  have already said, I propose to apply the system of “participatory
socialism” described above, with the individual voting rights divided
50–50 between employees and stockholders and strict limits on the
voting rights of individual stockholders depending on the size of the
enterprise, so that a single employee who is also a stockholder would
retain the majority of votes in a very small com­pany but would lose it
as soon as the com­pany had more than ten employees.11 It could also
be ­imagined that the voting rights would depend on the se­niority of
the employees, in the same way that renters in an apartment building
gradually accumulate rights that give them almost a permanent right
of usage.12 The recent debates have also included a renewal of dis-
cussion of the proposals for “employee funds” ­imagined by Rudolf
Meidner and his colleagues in the Swedish trade ­u nion federation,

11. See Chapter 5, Figure 18. The par­a meters can be adjusted, of course.
12. This is partly the case in the numerous ­legal systems that grant par­t ic­u ­lar protec-
tion to longtime renters or give them a preferential purchase right, sometimes with a
discount or subsidy. Furthermore, what­ever the status of the housing, it is indispensable
to apply strict, verifiable, and sanctionable rules of social mixture that prevent
ghettoization.
166 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Landsorganisationen i Sverige (LO), in the 1970s and 1980s. According

to this system, reserved mainly for the largest enterprises, employers
would be expected to pay part of their annual profits into a fund that
enables employees to gradually take control of 52 ­percent of the cap-
ital a­ fter twenty years.13 Intended to complete the system of coman-
agement (which guarantees that employees ­will have a share of voting
rights, in­de­pen­dently of any participation in the capital), this proposal
aroused fierce opposition among Swedish cap­i­tal­ists, and could not
be a­ dopted. It has recently been put back on the agenda by some
Demo­crats in the United States, notably Bernie Sanders and Alexan-
dria Ocasio-­Cortez, and included in the official program of the British
­Labour Party.14 Other innovative proposals have also been formu-
lated to allow for the development of public investment funds at the
local and communal levels.15 The objective is not to close the discus-
sion but rather to widen it: the concrete forms of power and economic
democracy still require reinvention, and always w ­ ill.16

For a Demo­cratic, Self-­Managing,

and Decentralized Socialism
Let us sum up. The welfare state and progressive taxation, pushed to
their logical conclusions, allow us to lay the foundations for a new
form of demo­cratic socialism: self-­managing, decentralized, and

13. One might also imagine that the progressive tax on property described in T ­ able 2
might be paid in part in the form of stocks put into the employee fund.
14. R. Meidner, Employee Investment Funds: An Approach to Collective Capital For-
mation (London: Allen and Unwin, 1978); G. Olsen, The Strug­gle for Economic Democ-
racy in Sweden (Farnham, UK: Ashgate, 1992); J. Guinan, “Socialising Capital: Looking
Back on the Meidner Plan,” International Journal of Public Policy 15, no. 1–2 (2019): 38–58.
15. J. Guinan and M. O’Neill, The Case for Community Wealth Building (Cambridge:
Polity Press, 2020).
16. For an imaginative discussion of a society based on “melting” property, defined as
property whose value for the owner is gradually reduced ­until end of life, at which point it
is returned to a common fund and resold, and the equalization of all powers, rather close
in certain ways to the “participatory socialism” outlined h­ ere, see E. Dockès, Voyage en
misarchie. Essai pour tout reconstruire (Paris: Editions du Détour, 2017).
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 167

based on the continual circulation of power and property. This system

differs entirely from the kind of centralized, authoritarian state so-
cialism that was tried within the Soviet bloc during the twentieth
­century. It is situated mainly within ongoing social, fiscal, and ­legal
transformations begun in many Western European countries in the past
­century, through a hard-­earned history of changing power relations,
popu­lar movements, and multiple crises and moments of g­ reat tension.
The demo­cratic socialism described h ­ ere is only an outline. It in-
cludes many weaknesses and limitations. For example, some readers
may think that by allowing the continued existence of a l­ imited form
of private owner­ship of the means of production (at the level of small
businesses) and housing, we are taking the risk that ­these changes ­will
be ephemeral, and that the strict limitation of differences in wealth
­will not last, given the considerable efforts that some ­people ­will de-
ploy to ensure that the tax scales are modified and to reject all limits.
This fear is legitimate, but must not be instrumentalized: it was this
fear that led the Soviet authorities, who at the time talked about “cap­
i­tal­ist gangrene,” to criminalize in the 1920s any form of property,
including property for very small businesses with a tiny number of
employees, and to descend into now well-­k nown authoritarian and
bureaucratic excesses. The proper response is to consider a deeper
conception of democracy: when we redistribute property, we must
also adopt a system of egalitarian financing for po­liti­cal campaigns,
the media, and think tanks, in order to prevent electoral democracy
from being co-­opted by t­hose who are better off. More generally,
we have already noted that the system of redistributing property
outlined h ­ ere would require substantial constitutional revisions.17

17. A constitutional formulation allowing for the re­distribution of property and pro-
tecting progressivity might be: “The law determines the conditions for the exercise of
the right of property and takes care to promote its diffusion and its role in the ser­v ice of
the common interest, if necessary through a system of progressive taxes on property, cap-
ital endowment, and voting rights for employees. If total direct and indirect taxes are
paid in proportion to the goods of all kinds held by taxpayers, this proportion cannot
be lower for the richest taxpayer than for the poorest. It may be higher, depending on
the terms set by law.”
168 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

A supp­lementary protection would be to assign ­these collected taxes

to a fund that manages the inheritance for all, in the same way that
social security contributions are managed by specific social secu-
rity funds in most countries. Historical experience has shown that
strengthening administrative structures makes it difficult for politi-
cians to renege on ­these choices (for example, by promising decreases
in taxes or contributions), b ­ ecause it forces them to make explicit the
withdrawal of benefits granted.
Moreover, nothing forbids us to reflect on systems that reject any
form of private property, including social and temporary property like
the one envisaged h ­ ere. I am thinking, for example, of the system of
“salarial socialism” defended by Bernard Friot.18 To simplify, Friot
proposes to extend the model of the social security funds set up in
1945 in France to other socioeconomic arenas, especially ­those of re-
tirement and health insurance. That would involve in par­tic­u­lar the
creation of a “salary fund” and an “investment fund,” the former en-
trusted with classifying ­people, according to their qualifications, in
dif­fer­ent levels of “salary for life” (with a scale ranging from one to
four), and the latter entrusted with attributing investment credits and
rights to use real and business capital in the vari­ous units of produc-
tion and in multiple individual and collective proj­ects. Insofar as ­these
funds would be managed in a participatory and demo­cratic way, in
precise forms that would have to be, however, made more explicit
(which Friot does not do), such a proposal is full of potential. Gener-
ally speaking, the development of new orga­nizational forms based on
common property and Friot’s category of “property for use” is to be
encouraged, for it complements the system of social and temporary
property defended h ­ ere.19

18. See in par­t ic­u ­lar B. Friot, Puissances du salariat, new enlarged ed. (Paris: La Dis-
pute, 2012). The expression “salarial socialism” is not used by Friot, but it seems to me
apt to express his (justified) insistence on the emancipatory potential of the “déjà-­là,”
i.e., a “salary for life” and the extension of social security.
19. On the diversity of the forms of organ­ization developed in history to make
common use of natu­ral, material, or cognitive resources, see D. H. Cole and E. Ostrom,
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 169

I simply want to draw attention to this point: the salary and invest-
ment funds Friot imagines (or their equivalent in other proposals
depriving small private property, social and temporary, of any role)
would hold a considerable power over millions of lives and everyday
decisions, bearing notably on salary levels and the use of capital with
regard to housing and small businesses. The internal organ­ization of
­t hese quasi-­state, hypercentralized authorities is not at all clear, in
par­tic­u­lar how they might function in a truly demo­cratic and emanci-
patory way. It would be premature, to say the least, to assume in advance
that this question has been settled and that any risk of bureaucratic
and authoritarian excess can be ruled out. Explanations must be given
for the systems of voting and power-­sharing that might be applied in
such institutions and comparisons made with better-­known sociohis-
torical experiences (parliaments, parties, ­labor ­unions, social welfare
funds, public banks, ­etc.) and the potential for learning and improve-
ments they may contain.20 In the current state of our knowledge and
experience, it seems to me more appropriate to recognize a lasting
role for small private properties, particularly in the sector of housing
and small businesses, while at the same time encouraging the devel-
opment of collective and cooperative structures when they correspond
to the needs of the actors concerned. Generally speaking, the some-
times excessive faith in the ability of large, centralized organ­izations
to ­handle internal deliberation and demo­cratic decision-­making

eds., Property in Land and Other Resources (Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land
Policy, 2012); B. Coriat, ed., Le Retour des communs (Paris: Les Liens qui Libèrent, 2015);
T. Boccon-­Gibod and P. Cretois, État social, propriété publique et biens communs (Lor-
mont: Le Bord de l’eau, 2015).
20. Friot says that the salary and investment funds w ­ ill be managed by authorities
who are elected or chosen by lots, without indicating his opinion as to which is prefer-
able, and without specifying the connection with state authorities, whose identities are
left vague. See B. Friot and J. Bernard, Un désir de communisme (Paris: Textuel, 2020),
32. Compare F. Lordon, Figures du communisme (Paris: La Fabrique, 2021), who sup-
ports the system proposed by Friot but proposes to rename the “salary for life” the “gen-
eral economic guarantee.” Lordon says nothing more than Friot about the system of
governance (elections, parties, l­ abor ­u nions, media, ­etc.).
170 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

can lead us to underestimate the emancipatory potential of institu-

tional systems such as small private property, properly supervised
and ­limited in its scope and the rights it confers. The same goes for
progressive taxation. If all the major orga­nizational decisions re-
garding the distribution of salaries and investments are made within
a salarial fund and an investment fund at the national level, then the
form of the tax m ­ atters ­little: its base and its progressivity have hardly
any importance b ­ ecause in any case the distribution of value w ­ ill be
defined collectively at the centralized level.21 Conversely, if we accept
the princi­ple of a permanently decentralized socioeconomic organ­
ization involving a ­great diversity of actors, collectivities, and mixed
structures, then the concrete forms of taxation are impor­tant: they
help determine the distribution of value, alongside, of course, other
institutional mechanisms such as the systems of voting rights within
the dif­fer­ent structures.

The F
­ ree Circulation of Capital:
The New Censitary Power
We now come to an absolutely essential point. The challenge to the
welfare state and progressive taxation since the 1980s was not based
solely on talk. It was also materialized in a set of rules and interna-
tional treaties seeking to make the change as irreversible as pos­si­ble.
The heart of the new rules is the ­free circulation of capital, without
any compensation in the form of regulation or common taxation. In
sum, states have instituted a ­legal system in which economic actors have
won a quasi-­sacred right to enrich themselves by using a country’s

21. This explains why Friot is not interested in the question of taxation and fiscal
progressivity. But that does not prevent him from adopting, at times, more gradualist
proposals, such as the idea of a food security program that would be financed by a new
welfare contribution and would grant every­one a monthly subsidy to buy food from
certified producers, a proposal that could certainly be included in the decentralized
framework defended h ­ ere.
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 171

public infrastructures and social institutions (such as the educa-

tional and health-­care systems), and then, with the stroke of a pen or
the click of a mouse, to move their assets to another jurisdiction,
without any arrangement to follow the wealth in question and to tax
it in a way that is fair and coherent with the rest of the tax system.
This is, de facto, a new form of censitary power, in the sense that the
states that have signed such treaties can, from the moment that they
refuse to reconsider the commitments made by ­earlier governments,
wind up explaining in all sincerity to their ­people that it is strictly
impossible to tax the first beneficiaries of international integration
(billionaires, multinationals, ­those with high incomes), and that con-
sequently they must turn once again to taxpayers in the lower and
­middle classes who have had the good taste to remain quietly where
they w­ ere. The logic claims to be unanswerable. The reaction of the
classes that d­ on’t move their assets around is just as unanswerable: all
this leads to a feeling of abandonment and a hatred of globalization.
It is natu­ral to won­der how we got into this situation. Research has
revealed a long period of preparatory work by banking lobbies ­after
the war, the role played generally by employers’ groups, banks, and
wealth man­ag­ers in the co-­production of the law, and fi­nally imple-
mentation of the law in the most advantageous means pos­si­ble, in-
cluding evasions and optimizations.22 This level of control exerted
over the economy by financiers and investors and the deregulation of
financial flows must also be analyzed in the context of a stockholders’
strategy, seeking to restore man­ag­ers’ control (or rather, to align their
interests with ­those of the stockholders) and to allow more rapid and
more profitable reconfigurations of the major units of production

22. S. Weeks, “Collective Effort, Private Accumulation: Constructing the Luxembourg

Investment Fund, 1956–2019,” in Accumulating Capital T ­ oday: Con­temporary Strategies
of Profit and Dispossessive Policies, ed. M. Benquet and T. Bourgeron (London: Routledge,
2021). Compare C. Herlin-­Giret, Rester riche. Enquête sur les gestionnaires de fortune et
leurs clients (Lormont: Le Bord de l’eau, 2019); S. Guex, “L’emergence du paradis fiscal
suisse,” in Pour une histoire sociale et politique de l’économie, ed. D. Fraboulet and
P. Verheyde (Paris: Editions de la Sorbonne, 2020).
172 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

(mergers and acquisitions, transfer of assets).23 The idea of using in-

ternational treaties to depoliticize the economy, to protect property,
and to prevent re­distribution was, moreover, one of the Hayekian and
ordoliberal ­theses formulated as early as 1940 with a view to struc-
turing the postwar world, t­ heses that ended up being a­ dopted in 1980–
1990, thanks to private lobbyists.24 We must also emphasize the cen-
tral and sometimes paradoxical role played by Eu­ro­pean governments
at the end of the 1980s in the movement to liberalize capital flows.
Having had their fin­gers burned by their economic difficulties,
starting in 1984–1985 French socialists de­cided to stake every­thing on
the construction of Eu­rope. In order to accelerate the implementation
of the common currency, they agreed to the demands of the German
Christian Demo­crats, who sought a complete liberalization of capital
flows. This demand materialized in a Eu­ro­pean directive of 1988 that
was retranscribed in the Maastricht Treaty of 1992. The terms of this
treaty w­ ere then a­ dopted by the Organisation for Economic Co-­
operation and Development (OECD) and the International Mone-
tary Fund (IMF) and ­were to serve as the new global standard. One
of the motivations of the actors of that time was also to lower the cost
of public borrowing by means of a call for international investments,

23. P. Francois and C. Lemercier, Sociologie historique du capitalisme (Paris: La De-

couverte, 2021). On the way, the themes of agility and flexible, reactive structures have
been used to make old public and private bureaucracies seem obsolete and to reconfigure
the ideology of capitalism in the 1970s and 1980s; see L. Boltanski and E. Chiapello, The
New Spirit of Capitalism, trans. G. Elliott (London: Verso, 2006). The generalized finan-
cialization has also resulted in a multiplication of cross-­ownerships between companies
and between countries: the total of private financial assets and liabilities held by
banks, enterprises, and ­house­holds has risen from 200 ­percent of GDP in 1970 to
1,000 ­percent of GDP in 2020 (without even including derivatives), whereas real wealth
(that is, the net value of enterprises’ immoveable assets) r­ ose from 300 ­p ercent to
500 ­p ercent of GDP.
24. O. Rosenboim, The Emergence of Globalism (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University
Press, 2017), shows that other t­ heses w
­ ere formulated in the 1940s, like t­ hose of Barbara
Wooton and William Beveridge regarding a f­ uture Eu­ro­pean federation based on social
protection, progressive federal taxation, and demo­cratic socialism.
 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 173

without ­there having ­really been time to explain and discuss t­ hese dif­
fer­ent objectives.25
What is certain is that it seems impossible to resume the movement
­toward equality without leaving this framework ­behind. Concretely,
each state that wants to do that must ­free itself from ­these obligations
and set explicit conditions in terms of fiscal and social justice for the
circulation of capital and for ­free trade. The pro­cess has already begun,
in part. In 2012, at the urging of the Obama administration, Switzer-
land rewrote its banking laws to require transmission of information
about US taxpayers who had accounts in Swiss banks; if they did not,
the banks in question would immediately lose their licenses to operate
in the United States. In 2021, the Biden administration announced its
intention to levy direct taxes on profits in countries with low taxes,
billing the enterprises and subsidiaries concerned for the differ-
ence between a minimal tax rate set by the United States and the
one practiced in the country in question (for example, in Ireland or
Luxembourg). In both cases, t­ hese unilateral decisions made by the
United States openly ­v iolated all the ­earlier rules, and especially
intra-­European rules: if France or Germany had made similar deci-
sions, the targeted states would easily have had them invalidated by
Eu­ro­pean courts, in the name, precisely, of treaties signed in the past
by the French and German states.26 But the fact is that it appears to
be the only way to move forward. The prob­lem is twofold. On the one
hand, the steps taken up to this point by administrations in the United

25. R. Abdelal, Capital Rules: The Construction of Global Finance (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 2007). The inquiry is based especially on the testimony of
officials of the time (in par­t ic­u ­lar, J. Delors and P. Lamy). Compare B. Lemoine, L’Ordre
de la dette. Enquête sur les infortunes de l’État et la prospérité du marché (Paris: La
Découverte, 2016).
26. The Eu­ro­pean Court of Justice (ECJ) has gone particularly far in defending the
absolutely ­f ree circulation of capital (including via the creation of offshore structures
making it pos­si­ble to evade de facto any regulation), but this development would not
have been pos­si­ble had the Maastricht Treaty correctly taken into account the right of
the states to set rules and to levy taxes. See K. Pistor, The Code of Capital: How the Law
Creates Wealth and In­equality (Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2019).
174 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

States are in real­ity minuscule in comparison with what would be nec-

essary, and it would be completely illusory to wait for the solution to
come from the United States alone, given how po­liti­cal life is financed
in that country.27 On the other hand, the Eu­ro­pean states continue
to do nothing and to rely on a hy­po­thet­i­cal, unrealistic ­future una­
nim­i­t y to change the rules within the Eu­ro­pean Union or the OECD.
By legalism, or e­ lse out of fear of being blacklisted by other countries,
financial lobbies, or the media and the think tanks that they influ-
ence, they refuse to withdraw unilaterally from the existing framework
and to impose anti-­dumping sanctions on public and private actors
who are making it pos­si­ble to perpetuate this new censitary power.
­There is no other way of escaping this dead end, however. The re-
definition of international rules is critical not only for the global North,
but also for the global South and the entire planet. The current
economic system, based on the uncontrolled circulation of capital,
goods, and ser­v ices, without social or environmental objectives, is
akin to a neo­co­lo­nial­ism that benefits the wealthiest. We w ­ ill see that
only a proj­ect of global transformation, to which each country can make
its contribution by practicing a new form of sovereignism with a
universalist vocation, that is, by relying on explicit indicators of so-
cial justice, can make it pos­si­ble to overcome ­t hese contradictions.

27. For example, the minimal rate of 21 ­percent envisaged by the Biden administra-
tion (as opposed to the current 12 ­percent rate in Ireland) could play a useful role if it
­were merely a first step in initiating a global financial register, one that would reestab-
lish fiscal progressivity (with rates potentially reaching 80–90 ­percent on the highest
incomes from capital and ­labor). ­Th ings are very dif­fer­ent if it is a final rate (which
could, moreover, be further lowered to about 15 ­percent, to judge by OECD-­level
discussions).
 •
8

REAL EQUALITY AGAINST

D I S C R I M I N AT I O N

Let us now return to the question of social and racial discrimination,

and especially to equality of access to training and employment. One
of the major limits of the movement t­oward equality that occurred
in the course of the past ­century is that it was too often ­limited to a
formal equality. In short: we have proclaimed the theoretical princi­ple
of the equality of rights and opportunities, in­de­pen­dent of origins,
but without giving ourselves the means to determine w ­ hether this
princi­ple corresponds to real­ity or not. If we want to attain real
equality, we must develop indicators and procedures that w ­ ill allow
us to fight gendered, social, and ethno-­racial discrimination, which
is in practice endemic nearly everywhere, in the global North as well
as in the South. In practice, one of the biggest difficulties is to suc-
ceed in combating tenacious prejudices without rigidifying identities.
­There is no single answer to this dilemma, and the solution may de-
pend on the national and postcolonial context in question. Only a
calm examination and comparison of experiences in Eu­rope, the
United States, India, and other parts of the world can allow us to
sketch out ave­nues for understanding, while at the same time resitu-
ating the strug­gle against discrimination in the more general frame-
work of a social policy with universalist objectives.
176 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Educational Equality:
Always Proclaimed, Never Realized
We w­ ill begin with the question of educational justice: the diffusion
of knowledge has always been the central tool enabling real equality,
beyond origins. But the prob­lem is that almost everywhere ­there is a
monumental gap between official statements regarding equality of op-
portunities and the real­ity of the educational inequalities that the
disadvantaged classes face. Access to elementary education, and then
secondary school, was extended to the w ­ hole of the population in the
course of the twentieth c­ entury, at least in the global North, and this
constitutes considerable pro­gress. But in real­ity, inequalities of access
to the most advantageous courses of study and schools remain very
deep, especially in higher education. In the United States, researchers
have been able to correlate a student’s educational path with parental
tax information. The results are depressing: the parents’ income pre-
dicts almost perfectly the child’s chances of ­going to a university. Con-
cretely, the probability of being admitted to an institution of higher
learning is scarcely 30 ­percent among the 10 ­percent of young adults
whose parents have the lowest income, increasing linearly to more
than 90 ­percent for the young adults whose parents have the highest
incomes (see Figure 31).
In addition, the two groups do not go to the same institutions of
higher education: the former usually have to be content with summary
courses of study in badly financed public universities and commu-
nity colleges, whereas the latter have access to highly specialized
curricula in extremely rich private universities. Th ­ ese latter institu-
tions are, moreover, characterized by the opacity of their admission
procedures and a near-­absence of public regulation. Although ­these
universities have benefited from multiple sources of governmental fi-
nancing, they have succeeded in convincing power­ful po­liti­cal figures
that it is normal to let them do as they please with their admissions
algorithms, including giving priority for admission to “legacy students”
(that is, the ­children of alumni or rich donors). In other words, not
 Real Equality against Discrimination 177

100%
Rate of access to higher education

90%

80%

70%

60%

50%

40%

30%

20%
0 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90
Percentile of parental income

figure 31. ​Parental Income and Access to Higher Education, United States, 2018
In 2018, the rate of access to higher education (the percentage of persons aged nine-
teen to twenty-­one enrolled in a university, college, or other institution of higher
learning) was scarcely 30 ­percent for c­ hildren of the poorest 10 ­percent in the United
States, and more than 90 ­percent for ­children of the richest 10 ­percent. Sources and
series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

only do fabulously high tuition fees put the best universities out of reach
for the least well-­off students (­unless they have exceptional grades
granting them access to scholarships), but the richest parents can pay
a kind of supplement to make up for their offspring’s insufficient grades.
Universities explain that the rate of legacy admissions is minimal,
even as they deny access to this information and to the formulas used
to assess grades and donations.1
It is striking to see the number of academics in the United States
who have become used to this real­ity: ­after all, if it provides supple-
mentary funds from generous billionaires who want to have their off-
spring admitted, why not? It would be simpler, however, to make

1. Nonetheless, we know that donations made by rich alumni to universities are ab-
normally and massively concentrated in the years when their c­ hildren are of an age to
apply for admission, which suggests that purchasing admission is more common than
universities claim. J. Meer and H. S. Rosen, “Altruism and the Child Cycle of Alumni
Donations,” American Economic Journal 1, no. 1 (2009): 258–286.
178 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

them pay the same amount in the form of taxes intended to finance
education for all, and principally ­those most disadvantaged (and not
the contrary). In any event, t­ hese delicate questions should be de­cided
demo­cratically, ­after transparent discussion of the pros and cons, and
not in the smoke-­fi lled rooms of governing boards dominated by
donors.
It would be quite wrong to believe that this massive educational
hy­poc­risy exists only in the United States. Even if education is almost
­free of charge in many countries, that does not in any way protect it
from social se­lection. The pursuit of extensive training in institutions
of higher learning in the absence of an adequate system of minimum
income represents a considerable investment for ­people with lower
incomes. Moreover, ­these students have not always had access to the
preliminary training, the social codes, and the networks that provide
opportunities for certain courses of study. The French system is an ex-
traordinarily hypocritical one. ­Under cover of “republican” equality—
low to no tuition fees, no official privilege for any rank—it manages
to spend three times more in public resources per student for t­ hose
who have had access to selective courses of study (the grandes écoles)
than for ­those who pursue degrees in ordinary universities. It happens
that the former have, on average, social origins far more privileged
than the latter, especially within the most sought-­after schools.2 That

2. According to the most recent data available, students from disadvantaged social
categories (36 ­percent of an age group) represent 20 ­percent of t­ hose studying in bacca-
laureate + 3 or baccalaureate + 5 programs, but only 8 ­percent of ­t hose enrolled at Sci-
ences Po in Paris, 7 ­percent of ­t hose at ENS Ulm, 3 ­percent of ­t hose at HEC, and
0 ­percent of ­t hose at Polytechnique. Conversely, students from very privileged social
categories (23 ­percent of an age group) constitute 47 ­percent of the students in baccalau-
reate + 3 or baccalaureate + 5 programs (the US equivalents of a bachelor’s degree and
master’s degree, respectively), but 73 ­percent at Sciences Po Paris, 75 ­percent at ENS
Ulm, 89 ­percent at HEC, and 92 ­percent at Polytechnique. See C. Bonneau, P. Cha-
rousset, J. Grenet, and G. Thebault, “Quelle démocratisation des grandes écoles depuis
le milieu des années 2000?” IPP Report no. 30, Institut des Politiques Publiques, Paris,
January 2021. Moreover, this study notes that no mea­sur­able pro­g ress in the area of so-
cial mixture has been achieved since the 2000s, despite the repeated claims of govern-
ments and schools.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 179

per student throughout educational career

(from preschool to higher education)
Total public educational investment

(thousands of 2020 euros) 300

250

200

150

100

50

0
0 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95
Percentile of distribution of total investment
received throughout educational career

figure 32. ​The In­equality of Investment in Education in France

Students reaching the age of twenty in 2020 have benefited, from primary school to
higher education, from an average public investment of about 120,000 euros (or
about fifteen years of education for an average cost of 8,000 euros each year).
Within this generation, the 10 ­percent of students who benefited from the smallest
public investment received about 65,000 to 70,000 euros, whereas the 10 ­percent
who benefited from the largest public investment received between 200,000 and
300,000 euros.
Note: The average costs by track and by year in the French educational system in
2015–2020 ranged from 5,000 euros to 6,000 euros in nursery/primary school,
8,000 to 10,000 euros in secondary school, 9,000 to 10,000 euros in higher educa-
tion, and 15,000 to 16,000 euros in preparatory classes for advanced studies (at the
grandes écoles). Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

is why ­people can, with a clear conscience, use public means to strengthen
existing social inequalities. On the w ­ hole, if we take into account all
education expenditures, from nursery school to university, we find
considerable inequalities within an age group: the 10 ­percent of stu-
dents who benefit from the lowest expenditures receive around
65,000 to 70,000 euros each, whereas the 10 ­percent who benefit from
the highest expenditures receive between 200,000 and 300,000 euros
each (see Figure 32). This concentration of expenditures for education
to the benefit of a minority is, to be sure, less extreme than it used to
180 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

be, but it remains considerable, and is hardly in conformity with

con­temporary talk about equality of opportunity.3

For an Affirmative Action Based on Social Criteria

­ ere is only one way to move beyond ­these hypocrisies: we have to
Th
give ourselves the means to mea­sure ­these realities collectively and
demo­cratically, to set quantified, verifiable goals, and to constantly
adjust the policies used to reach them. In terms of fiscal justice, it took
centuries to define an objective understanding of in­equality, with con-
ceptions of income, property, tax scales, and tax rates that would
make it pos­si­ble to construct norms and a common language for com-
parison. This pro­cess is still very far from having reached its end.
With regard to educational justice, it is sometimes i­ magined that we
can rely on general princi­ples and declarations of good intentions. Fig-
ures 31 and 32 show that this is not the case. To begin, full transpar-
ency by public authorities is critical: such quantified facts must made
publicly available on an annual basis, not just revealed from time to
time by individual researchers. Specifically, it is impor­tant that we
make public e­ very year the distribution of expenditures for education
and the rates of access to the vari­ous courses of study in relation to
social origins and percentile of parental income, breaking down this
information by level of schooling. Broad access to ­these data would
ensure that this information w ­ ill provide food for a balanced, demo­
cratic debate, ­free of manipulation. The road ahead is long: in prac-
tice, governments and public administrations display, regarding t­ hese
questions, an opacity hardly less extreme than that of private univer-
sities. Too often, t­ hese actors continue to rely on a vertical concep-
tion of public policy and the common interest, and to arrogate to

3. See Chapter 4, Figure 14. Compare T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology (Cambridge,

MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2020), 1007–1012. Taking into account
the expenditure per student over recent de­cades, the goal is not to reduce the means
available for selective courses of study, but rather to raise other courses of study to the
same level.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 181

themselves, without restraint, the mono­poly on expertise and infor-

mation that accompanies it.
The production of universally accepted indicators is central, but not
sufficient. What ­matters most is that this exercise in transparency be
directly connected with levers of action and policies that permit
change on all educational levels. In the case of higher education, many
countries have begun to establish centralized procedures for assigning
students at the regional or national level (for example, the Parcoursup
platform in France). In comparison with systems in which each uni-
versity does what­ever it pleases, this is potentially an improvement, in
the sense that it becomes pos­si­ble to escape from the logic of networks
and individual relations (or even, in the United States, donations of
money) and to define demo­cratically neutral admission criteria and
goals that apply to all in the same way. Thus, we can imagine a system
based on students’ wishes, their grades, and their social origins. In-
clusion of the latter takes into consideration the fact that poorer
secondary school students encounter more difficulties.
It goes without saying that finding the best compromise is not easy:
a certain dose of affirmative action based on social criteria may be
justified, but if we go too far, it can become counterproductive for
every­one. No one can claim to know the ultimate truth regarding such
complex judgments. This makes it all the more indispensable to or­
ga­nize the conditions for a vast demo­cratic debate based on transpar-
ency and experimentation. Unfortunately, algorithms are regularly
applied to students and their parents without any prior consulta-
tion or evaluation of the pros and cons. As a result they run the risk
of arousing a generalized distrust with regard to such systems, or even
to the very idea of educational justice. In France, the Parcoursup plat-
form is supposed to have implemented, since 2018, a form of affirma-
tive action for scholarship students in secondary schools (between
15 and 20 ­percent of the students, based chiefly on parental income)
who are asking for admission to preparatory classes. However, how this
is configured remains obscure: no quantified objective was set, and
no evaluation has been carried out. In 2021, ­t here was talk about the
182 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

possibility of introducing more places for scholarship students (be-

tween 50 and 60 ­percent of an age group) in schools of administra-
tion, but t­here again no explanation was given that would make it
pos­si­ble to evaluate the real impact of such a plan.4 Although gov-
ernments and administrations should without saying respond to the
need for transparency and disengage themselves from their vertical
and sometimes manipulative culture, the success of such a pro­cess re-
quires the participation of citizens, associations, l­ abor ­unions, elected
government officials, and po­liti­cal parties, who must demand full ac-
cess to data and use it constructively to make policy proposals for
improvement. Th ­ ings w
­ ill ­really change only when this new demo­cratic
space for public participation has been fully occupied.
Beyond the question of higher education, the exercise in transpar-
ency must also enable a radical review of the allocation of resources
in primary and secondary education. When a student is entering uni-
versity, it is generally too late to reduce in­equality of opportunities
radically: we have to act much ­earlier. But on this point educational
hy­poc­risy reaches a pinnacle. In many countries, governments claim
to have set up systems seeking to “give more to ­those who have less,”
that is, to send supplementary resources to the most socially dis-
advantaged schools. The prob­lem is that the data often suggest exactly
the reverse. For example, when we examine public ­middle schools in
and around Paris, we see that the proportion of teachers who are tem-

4. If 10 or 20 ­percent of the places are reserved for a group representing

50–60 ­percent of an age group, then it is pos­si­ble that the ­actual effect would be l­ imited
or even negative, in the event that a group was stigmatized without increasing the
number of places. The discussion is sometimes obscured by the fact that the notion of a
scholarship student in secondary school (in France, roughly speaking, the 15–20 ­percent
of lycée students whose parents have the lowest incomes) is much more restrictive than
that of a scholarship student in higher education, which has eight levels and applies, in
all, to about 40 ­percent of the students (and between 50 and 60 ­percent of an age group,
taking into account the fact that the parental incomes of students in higher education
are higher than t­ hose of their generation as a ­whole). ­These distinctions illustrate the
need for precise, neutral, and in­de­pen­dent information to feed informed demo­cratic
debate on t­ hese questions.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 183

porary contract employees (less trained and lower paid than teachers
holding permanent positions) or beginners is barely 10 ­percent in the
wealthiest departments (Paris, Hauts-­de-­Seine) and reaches 50 ­percent
in the most disadvantaged departments (Seine-­Saint-­Denis, Val-­de-­
Marne). Studies conducted by Asma Benhenda using National Ed-
ucation payroll files have made it pos­si­ble to confirm the extent
to which the proposed system has been reversed. If we calculate the
average salary of teachers in the vari­ous elementary, m ­ iddle, and
secondary schools, taking into account the paltry premiums paid in
priority zones and other forms of remuneration (connected with se­
niority, degrees held, status as tenured or temporary, and so on), we
see that the higher the percentage of privileged students enrolled, the
higher the average remuneration.5 In addition, we find this real­ity in
most of the OECD countries: young p ­ eople coming from advantaged
backgrounds are more likely to have tenured, experienced teachers
than ­those from disadvantaged backgrounds, who more often have
substitute teachers or teachers hired with short-­term contracts, and
the small premiums intended to correct this situation are generally
insufficient to compensate for the systemic in­equality.6
­Here we see that in practice the first issue is not to achieve af-
firmative action using social criteria, but simply to avoid negative
discrimination: in primary and secondary schools, as in higher
education, we often end up allocating higher public expenditures

5. In ­middle schools in France, the teachers’ average remuneration is less than 2,400
euros per month in the 10 ­percent of the schools having the lowest percentage of socially
privileged students, and then rises steadily to reach 2,800 euros in the schools having the
highest percentage of t­ hese students. In the lycées, this same average remuneration rises
from less than 2,700 euros per month in the 10 ­percent of the most disadvantaged schools
to almost 3,200 euros per month in the 10 ­percent of the most privileged. See A. Benhenda,
“Teaching Staff Characteristics and Spending per Student in French Disadvantaged Schools,”
unpublished manuscript, April 2019, http://­piketty​.­pse​.­ens​.­fr​/­fi les​/­Benhenda2019​.p
­ df;
A. Benhenda, Tous des bons profs. Un choix de société (Paris: Fayard, 2020).
6. OECD, “Effective Teacher Policies: Insights from PISA,” Programme for Interna-
tional Student Assessment, Organisation for Economic Co-­operation and Development,
June 11, 2018.
184 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

for privileged students than for o­ thers. In theory, it would not be so

difficult to adjust the amount of the premiums to ensure that the
average salary cannot in any case be an increasing function of the per-
centage of socially privileged students in a school, at least at the level
of the educational system as a ­whole. We can escape from this situa-
tion only through objective, verifiable demographic data and com-
plete transparency regarding government funding of schools, com-
bined with collective action focused on the highly po­liti­cal issue of
educational equality.

On the Per­sis­tence of the Patriarchy

and Productivism
As central as it may be, the question of educational justice does not
­settle every­thing. When prejudices concerning certain groups are too
deeply rooted, we must resort to other means of acting, including
quotas making certain offices and professions—­and not only certain
courses of study—­more accessible. Historically, ­women have undoubt-
ably been subjected to the most massive and systematic discrimina-
tion, in the North as in the South, in the East as in the West, in all
dimensions and in all latitudes. Nearly all ­human socie­ties have been
patriarchal socie­ties, in the sense that they ­were constructed on the
foundation of a sophisticated set of gendered prejudices that assigned
certain rules to each of the two sexes. The development of the cen-
tralized state in the eigh­teenth and nineteenth centuries was even
accompanied, at times, by a kind of hardening and systematization
of the patriarchy. Gendered rules ­were codified and generalized
throughout nations and among social classes, such as the asymmetry
of rights between spouses in the framework of the Napoleonic Code
or in­equality of electoral rights in many countries. ­Women’s suffrage
was obtained as a result of long strug­gles and ­battles whose outcome
was uncertain: in New Zealand in 1893, in Turkey in 1930, in Brazil
in 1932, in Switzerland in 1971, and in Saudi Arabia in 2015. In France,
­after de­cades of feminist rallies, and ­after hopes betrayed in 1789, 1848,
 Real Equality against Discrimination 185

and 1871, the Chamber of Deputies approved w ­ omen’s right to vote in

1919, but the Senate vetoed the law. In France, not ­u ntil 1944 did
­women’s suffrage become a real­ity.7
Despite the establishment of formal equality before the law for
­women during the second half of the twentieth c­ entury, cultural
norms promoted the presence of a ­house­wife in the ­family as a mea­
sure of social and financial success during the three postwar de­cades
known as les Trente Glorieuses. In 1970, ­women received hardly more
than 20 ­percent of total payroll in France. Money m ­ atters ­were seen as
issues for men. All investigations show, however, that if we include
8

domestic tasks, w ­ omen have always provided more than 50 ­percent of

total hours spent working (commercial and domestic). If incomes had
been distributed between the sexes on the basis of work time, that
would have represented a radical transformation of the distribution
of income and power in society and within families. The impor­tant
point is that we are just now exiting this golden age of patriarchy.
­Women’s share of the payroll reached barely 38 ­percent in France in
2020, as compared with 62 ­percent for men, or 50 ­percent more mon-
etary power for the latter. We point out once again the importance of
the choice of indicators. If we limit ourselves to noting that the salary
gap is 14 ­percent for a given job, then we are indulging in understate-
ment, ­because one of the most impor­tant aspects of gendered inequal-
ities is precisely that w
­ omen and men do not occupy the same jobs.
This is particularly striking with re­spect to po­liti­cal offices or man-
agerial positions. It is true that in France, the proportion of w ­ omen
among the 1 ­percent of ­those receiving the highest remunerations has
risen from 10 ­percent in 1995 to 19 ­percent in 2020. The prob­lem is that
this advance is extremely slow: if we continue at this pace, parity ­will
not be achieved u ­ ntil 2107 (see Figure 33). The data available elsewhere
in Eu­rope, in the United States, and in other parts of the world lead
to similar conclusions. A central ele­ment of the explanation has to do

7. B. Pavard, F. Rochefort, and M. Zancarini-­Fournel, Ne nous libérez pas, on s’en

charge! Une histoire des féminismes de 1789 à nos jours (Paris: La Découverte, 2020).
8. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 690–691.
186 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

50% Proportion of
Proportion of women among the highest

women in the
45% top 50%

40%
incomes in France

35%
Top 10%
30%
Proportion of
women in the top
25% 1%: 10% in 1995,
Top 1% 19% in 2020, 50%
20% in 2107?

15%
Top 0.1%:
10% 50% of women
in 2145?
Top 0.1%
5%
0%
1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 2000 2005 2010 2015 2020 2025 2030

figure 33. ​The Per­sis­tence of the Patriarchy in France in the Twenty-­First

­Century
The proportion of ­women in the top centile of the ­labor income distribution (sala-
ries and income from unsalaried work) r­ ose from 10 ­percent in 1995 to 19 ­percent in
2020, and is expected to reach 50 ­percent between now and 2107 if the 1995–2020
trend continues. For the top thousandth, parity could be reached by 2145. Sources
and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

with the strength of certain prejudices against w ­ omen. In India, re-

search has made it pos­si­ble to quantify t­ hese prejudices by mea­sur­ing,
on a large scale, the reactions aroused by male and female voices
reading the same po­liti­cal speeches. The same argument, for example
concerning a municipal bud­get or the construction of a school, is sys-
tematically judged less credible when it is given by a female voice.
This research has also shown that placing w ­ omen in leadership roles
reduces negative gender ste­reo­t ypes, which may constitute one of the
most convincing proofs of the necessity and potential efficacy of af-
firmative action policies for overcoming ancient prejudices.9
Quotas favoring ­women have multiplied over recent de­cades, not
without arousing strong opposition. An initial law was ­adopted in

9. L. Beaman, R. Chattopadhyay, E. Duflo, R. Pande, and P. Topalova, “Power­f ul

­ omen: Does Exposure Reduce Bias?” Quarterly Journal of Economics 124, no. 4 (2009):
W
1497–1540.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 187

France by the Socialist majority in 1982. The mea­sure was modest,

since it simply provided that no sex could occupy more than 75 ­percent
of the seats in elections that follow a closed proportional list system,
and in par­tic­u­lar in municipal and regional elections. That would al-
ready have represented a significant advance for w ­ omen, who at that
time represented less than 10 ­percent of elected officials, but the law
was struck by the Constitutional Council for violating the princi­ple
of equality, and could not be revisited ­until the constitutional revi-
sion of 1989. For elections based on lists, the law passed in 2000 es-
tablished complete parity (that is, lists that include equal numbers of
men and ­women and penalize parties that propose too few ­women in
district elections—­penalties that have proven insufficient). The gov-
ernment at that time tried to require parity on admission panels as
well, but was again overruled by the judges. A second constitutional
revision a­ dopted in 2008 extended parity to executive functions in re-
gional and municipal councils. A series of laws a­ dopted between 2011
and 2015 set quotas for ­women on companies’ boards of directors
(20 ­percent of the seats), and then on juries and the managerial or-
gans of public institutions. In 2021 t­ here are ongoing parliamentary
discussions regarding pos­si­ble extensions of quotas or incentivizing
targets for all management positions in private enterprises (which
could end up having a mea­sur­able impact on the share of ­women in
the upper centile or upper decile of remunerations). Although it is too
early to evaluate the complete effect of t­ hese mea­sures, this sequence
bears witness to the fact that it is pos­si­ble to move ­toward real equality
and, if necessary, to rewrite constitutional texts when the po­liti­cal ­will
to do so exists.10
Although such mea­sures may prove to be indispensable for ad-
vancing t­oward parity at the level of the highest offices, we must

10. It w
­ ill be noted that the first g­ reat French experiment with affirmative action is
the law of April 26, 1934, which required all companies with more than ten employees to
have wounded war veterans on their payrolls at a rate of 10 ­percent, or pay the equiva-
lent of a day’s salary per day and per missing veteran. This law then evolved t­ oward the
system favoring handicapped workers that is currently in force (with less dissuasive
sanctions and lower targets).
188 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

nonetheless underline the limits of an approach that is focused on the

top of the hierarchy. Such an approach ignores the issue of parity in
less well-­paid jobs, which are the common lot of the im­mense ma-
jority of ­women. In other words, opening up positions for ­women in
management groups must not serve as an excuse to maintain for
every­one ­else a social system that is extremely hierarchized and gen-
dered. The central issues ­here are wages and salaries, the length of the
workday, and working conditions for millions of cashiers, waitresses,
­house­keepers, and dozens of other jobs usually filled by w ­ omen. Tra-
ditionally female working-­class occupations have not always received
the same attention from l­ abor ­unions or in public debate as have tra-
ditionally male working-­class occupations.11 We must add that many
fiscal and social systems that proceeded from les Trente Glorieuses
(such as the conjugal quotient, which for tax purposes divides
­house­hold income by the number of ­people in the h ­ ouse­hold, or ­else
systems of parental leave) continue t­oday to reinforce a highly gen-
dered distribution of roles and jobs.12 In real­ity, the exit from social
patriarchy can occur only through a general transformation of the
connection between production and social reproduction, between oc-
cupational life, on the one hand, and f­ amily and personal life, on the
other. So many who earn the highest salaries hardly ever see their
­children, their families, or their friends; they often lack time for civic

11. C. Arruza, T. Bhattacharya, and N. Fraser, Feminism for the 99% (London: Verso,
2019). Compare M. Benquet, Encaisser! Enquête en immersion dans la grande distribu-
tion (Paris: La Découverte, 2015); F.-­X . Devetter and J. Valentin, Deux millions de tra-
vailleurs et des poussières. L’avenir des emplois du nettoyage dans une société juste (Paris:
Les Petits Matins, 2021).
12. H. Perivier, L’Économie féministe (Paris: Sciences Po, 2020). New inequalities
have also appeared: an increase in separations and the maintenance (or sometimes
deepening) of very unequal systems of dividing up goods have led to a paradoxical in-
crease in wealth gaps between men and ­women. See C. Bessiere and S. Gollac, Le Genre
du capital. Comment la famille reproduit les inégalités (Paris: La Découverte, 2020); C.
Bessière, “Reversed Accounting: ­Legal Professionals, Families and the Gender Wealth
Gap in France,” Socio-­Economic Review (2019), https://­doi​.­org​/­10​.­1093​/­ser​/­mwz036; N.
Frémeaux and M. Leturcq, “Inequalities and the Individualization of Wealth,” Journal
of Public Economics 184 (2020), 104–145.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 189

participation, but contribute actively to the consumer rat-­race and its

resulting environmental damage. Resolving the prob­lem of gender in­
equality by encouraging ­women to pursue the same lifestyle is not
the solution: instead, we must find a dif­fer­ent balance. The issue re-
quires far more attention than enacting a few quotas, even if the latter
are part of the solution.

Fighting Discrimination without

Rigidifying Identities
Long contested, gender parity and quotas benefiting ­women have
spread in many countries and are now broadly accepted. The same
cannot be said about quotas benefiting ­those who have experienced
social, ethno-­racial, or religious discrimination, which continue to
arouse strong reservations. This reticence is not entirely without foun-
dation and does not proceed solely from the selfishness of t­ hose who
do not want to give up their jobs (even if this ­factor can never be ne-
glected). Before considering the application of social or racial quotas,
the first priority has to be opposing discrimination as such. In other
words, we have to equip ourselves with the means to identify and end
discriminatory and racist practices, notably by pursuing ­legal action
against t­ hose who engage in them, ­whether ­these be employers, the
police, sports fans, demonstrators, internet users, or o ­ thers.
Social or racial quotas involve two serious risks. On the one hand,
they can lead to questions about ­whether t­hose who benefit have
“earned” the opportunity, especially from ­t hose who believe they
would have received the benefit other­wise. On the other, they may pin
social or ethno-­racial identities, which are by nature plural, mixed,
and mutable, and even reinforce the antagonisms connected with
identity.13 For all that, ­there may be countries or regions where prejudices
are so deeply rooted (as in the case of prejudices against w ­ omen)
that only quotas can open up the situation. The question is extremely

13. The first risk applies to quotas favoring w

­ omen; the second much less.
190 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

delicate, and t­here is no single answer: only a detailed, case-­by-­case

examination can enable us to form an opinion.
Let us begin with the case of India, which is the country that
has gone furthest in the use of quotas. The “reservations” (the term
used in the Indian context) w ­ ere first applied to the benefit of the
“scheduled castes” (SC) and “scheduled tribes” (ST), that is, the former
Dalits and Indigenous ­peoples who ­were the objects of discrimina-
tion in traditional Hindu society. Th
­ ese castes, which represent about
20–25 ­percent of the population, have benefited since 1950 from quotas
granting access to universities and public employment. Starting in
1980–1990, the system was extended to the intermediary classes
(“other backward classes, OBC”), or about 40–45 ­percent of the pop-
ulation, so that in all, 60–70 ­percent of the Indian population cur-
rently benefits from quotas at the federal level (see Figure 34).14 The
Constitution of India extended civil protections against discrimina-
tion that should have benefited the OBC a­ fter 1950, but the establish-
ment of commissions entrusted with defining the corresponding so-
cial categories raised major difficulties, so the pro­cess took several
de­cades. In 1993, a constitutional amendment also forced the states
that had not yet done so to reserve for ­women one-­third of leadership
roles in village councils (the panchayat). Discussions are still ongoing
to decide ­whether the Constitution would have to be amended to re-
serve seats for w
­ omen in elections for parliament and state legislative
assemblies, as was already done for the scheduled castes and tribes in
1950 (in proportion to their share in the population).
The available data lead to a qualified judgment on this experiment.
The extreme prejudices and discriminations against socially disad-
vantaged classes in India are a consequence of both an ancient ine-
galitarian system and its rigidification by the British colonial govern-
ment, which relied extensively on caste divisions to establish its
domination but also gave them a permanent administrative existence

14. In terms of numbers, the SC-­ST correspond roughly to secondary-­school schol-

arship students in the French context, whereas the SC-­ST-­OBC correspond to the schol-
arship students in higher education.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 191

75%
70% Total of classes benefiting
Share of the total Indian population

65% from quotas (OBC + SC + ST)

60% Other backward classes (OBC)
55% Scheduled castes and
50% tribes (SC + ST)
45% Scheduled castes (SC)
40% Scheduled tribes (ST)
35%
30%
25%
20%
15%
10%
5%
0%
1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 34. ​A ffirmative Action in India, 1950–2020

Quotas for access to universities and public employment w ­ ere put in place in 1950
for the “scheduled castes” (SC) and “scheduled tribes” (ST), former Dalit and Indig-
enous p­ eoples subject to discrimination, and then extended, during the 1980s, to
“other backward classes” (OBC) (former Shudras), by the Mandal Commission in
1979–1980. In all, ­t hese quotas benefited about 70 ­percent of the Indian population
between 2010 and 2020. The SC-­ST also benefit from quotas for elected positions.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

that had not existed previously. Taking into account ­these ingrained
prejudices, it is probable that the members of scheduled castes and
tribes would not have gained access as quickly to elective offices,
higher education, and public employment without the establishment
of quotas. From an economic point of view, the inequalities separating
the scheduled castes from the rest of the population remain very
strong, but they have been reduced significantly since 1950—­more sig-
nificantly, for example, than the inequalities between Blacks and
Whites in the United States (see Figure 35).15 Several studies have also
shown that the quotas ­were a major ­factor in the construction of
Indian electoral democracy: all the parties w
­ ere led to promote elected

15. The comparison with the United States (where Blacks comprise 10–15 ­percent of
the population) is more meaningful than the comparison with South Africa (where
Blacks comprise more than 80 ­percent).
192 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

80%

70%

60%

50%
India: average income of lower castes (SC + ST)/rest of population
40%
United States: average income of Blacks/Whites
30%
South Africa: average income of Blacks/Whites

20%

10%

0%
1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 35. ​Discrimination and In­equality in Comparative Perspective

The ratio between the average income of the lower castes in India (scheduled castes
and tribes, SC + ST, former Dalit and Indigenous ­peoples subject to discrimination)
and that of the rest of the population ­rose from 57 ­percent in 1950 to 74 ­percent in
2018. During the same period, the ratio between the average income of Blacks and
Whites ­rose from 54 to 56 ­percent in the United States, and from 9 to 18 ­percent in
South Africa. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

officials who came from the scheduled castes, and the reservations
played, de facto, an integrating and mobilizing role.16
If the balance sheet on Indian quotas is on the ­whole positive, this
experiment also illustrates the limits of such a policy. This kind of
system is not sufficient for eliminating inequality; it must be accom-
panied by social policies that are more ambitious and have uni-
versalist goals. By construction, the places in universities, elected
assemblies, and public offices can concern only a small minority of

16. F. Jensenius, Social Justice through Inclusion: The Consequences of Electoral

Quotas in India (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017). Compare C. Jaffrelot, Inde: la
démocratie par la caste. Histoire d’une mutation sociopolitique 1885–2005 (Paris: Fayard,
2005). Note that Muslims (15 ­percent of the population) ­were excluded from the SC-­ST
quotas but ­were able to benefit from the OBC quotas, which resulted in a de facto soli-
darity between the Hindu and Muslim disadvantaged classes, even as quotas nourished
the rise of the BJP’s conservative nationalists, who w
­ ere anti-­Muslim and anti-­low castes.
See Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 929–953.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 193

the socially disadvantaged classes. In the Indian context, quotas ­were

often used by the elites as an excuse for not paying the taxes neces-
sary to finance investments in infrastructure, education, and health
care that would have been necessary to ­really reduce social inequali-
ties in India and increase equality for all the disadvantaged classes
(and not only a minority within them). In the absence of a sufficiently
well-­financed welfare state, inequalities did in fact begin to increase
quickly again ­after 1980, despite their decrease over the first de­cades
following in­de­pen­dence.17 In addition to education and health care
for all, the re­d istribution of property, particularly in the form of
agrarian reform, is another systemic policy that would have made it
pos­si­ble to thwart India’s heavy inegalitarian heritage. That is what
was done in certain states run by communist governments, notably
in Kerala and West Bengal, with very good results on the social and
economic level.18 But nothing like that was tried at the federal level in
India: leaders counted heavi­ly on quotas, without even asking the
property-­owning classes to pay the taxes and cede the properties that
would have been necessary for a genuine social re­distribution.

Reconciling Social Parity and the

Re­distribution of Wealth
We come now to lessons for other countries. Note first of all that the
Indian system of quotas was itself capable of evolving. In 1993, the Su-
preme Court introduced an income criterion for the application of
quotas: if a caste is included among the OBC, then members of the
group whose annual income exceeds a certain threshold are excluded

17. L. Chancel and T. Piketty, “Indian Income In­equality, 1922–2015: From British
Raj to Billionaire Raj?” Review of Income and Wealth 65, no. S1 (2019): S33–­S62. Com-
pare J. Dreze and A. Sen, An Uncertain Glory: India and Its Contradictions (Prince­ton:
Prince­ton University Press, 2013); C. Jaffrelot and A. Kalaiyarasan, “Post-­Sachar Indian
Muslims: Facets of Socio-­Economic Decline,” unpublished manuscript, 2021.
18. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 357–359.
194 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

from the benefit of quotas.19 It is pos­si­ble that the w

­ hole system w
­ ill
very gradually evolve ­toward a system of affirmative action based on
other social criteria such as parental income, education, or wealth, and
no longer on membership in a caste that has historically been targeted
for discrimination. That may be the best that we can hope for it. Ide-
ally, in order to avoid rigidifying categories and antagonisms, a system
of quotas should foresee the conditions of its own transformation, to
the extent to which it allows the reduction of prejudices against groups
that have been discriminated against. For example, in view of the al-
most complete absence of the disadvantaged classes in elected assem-
blies in Western democracies, we might imagine the introduction of a
form of social parity as a complement to gender parity (fi­nally applied).
In other words, half the candidates nominated by po­liti­cal parties for
election would come from the disadvantaged classes.20 To the extent
that the policies ­adopted would permit a systematic reduction of differ-
ences in wealth, it could be hoped that ­these rules would gradually be-
come less and less necessary and that the thresholds could be lowered
without reducing the equality of repre­sen­ta­tion in the assembly.21
We must emphasize that up to this point, no Western country has
ever implemented social or racial quotas in a way comparable to what
has been done in India, and that many systems regarding ­these ques-

19. In 2021, the threshold is 800,000 rupees, which in practice excludes about
10 ­percent of the population.
20. J. Cagé, Libres et égaux en voix (Paris: Fayard, 2020). Cagé proposes forcing par-
ties’ nominees to include, at a rate of 50 ­percent, candidates who are salaried employees
or working class (social categories that represent about 50 ­percent of the working popu-
lation) and to apply dissuasive sanctions in the event of evasion (for example, if t­ hese
categories represent less than 40 ­percent of their elected officials). The working classes
could also be defined on the basis of the average annual income over the previous ten
years or on the basis of wealth.
21. Note that t­ here exists a kind of reverse social parity in the German comanage-
ment system: man­ag­ers have a right to a quota among the representatives of salaried
employees. This rule has always been attacked by the l­ abor ­u nions, who see in it (not
without foundation) an employers’ strategy for dividing them and increasing stock-
holders’ power. See S. J. Silvia, Holding the Shop Together: German Industrial Relations
in the Postwar Era (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2013).
 Real Equality against Discrimination 195

tions remain to be in­ven­ted. In the United States, promises of repa-

rations ­were made to former slaves ­after the Civil War, but they ­were
never fulfilled. When ­legal racial discrimination was ended by pas-
sage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Johnson administration took
additional steps, for example, requiring by executive order that fed-
eral contractors ensure equal job opportunities. Subsequent amend-
ments have made ­these protections more inclusive. But contrary to
what is sometimes thought, no federal legislation has mandated a
specific and formal system of quotas for access to universities, gov-
ernment jobs, or elected offices. Very strong po­l iti­cal support and
mobilization would be required before the issue of quotas could be
considered by Congress, nor is it certain that the Supreme Court,
which had upheld the constitutionality of racial segregation in Plessy
v. Ferguson in 1896, would have upheld such an initiative. In any case,
the absence of any coherent and consistent federal policies of repara-
tion or quotas explains in part the continuation of very strong racial
inequalities in the United States.22 Some states tried to introduce
quotas in the 1970s and 1980s, but they w ­ ere overruled by judges or
by referenda, like the one conducted in California in 1996 that for-
bade a system based on race (or, moreover, on gender). Several states
then developed admissions policies in high schools and universities
that timidly took into account the applicants’ neighborhood or their
parents’ income.23
Generally speaking, affirmative action based on universal social
criteria such as income, wealth, or territory has many advantages. In

22. On the magnitude and per­sis­tence of racial inequalities in the United States,
see F. T. Pfeffer and A. Killewald, “Visualizing Intergenerational Wealth Mobility and
Racial In­equality,” Socius 5 (2019), https://­doi​.­org​/­10​.­1177​/­2378023119831799.
23. However, the use of parental income has been forbidden by judges in several
states, in which case the systems had to be l­ imited to the neighborhood, which is insuf-
ficient to obtain the desired social targeting. It is often the most privileged individuals
in a disadvantaged neighborhood who benefit from this mea­sure. See G. Ellison and
P. A. Pathak, “The Efficiency of Race-­Neutral Alternatives to Race-­Based Affirmative
Action: Evidence from Chicago’s Exam Schools,” NBER Working Paper no. 22589,
­National Bureau of Economic Research, Cambridge, MA, September 2016.
196 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

addition to enabling us to put together more easily t­ hose po­liti­cal ma-

jorities that ­favor it, it has the merit of avoiding the rigidification of
ethno-­racial identities. We have also noted that this kind of affirma-
tive action is in its infancy in most countries, including France and
the United States. In practice, it would be significant if we w ­ ere able
to avoid negative discrimination. Disadvantaged social classes almost
everywhere receive fewer and poorer educational benefits than the
privileged classes. The same can be said for the paucity of funding for
infrastructure and public ser­vices in disadvantaged communities. We
begin from a place in which communities have vastly unequal re-
sources. Should we then noisily congratulate ourselves for setting up
a few meager compensatory systems that ameliorate only a small part
of the systemic in­equality that we refuse to challenge? Too often, the
concept of affirmative action has been instrumentalized to avoid
having to finance broader social policies supporting equality. The idea
of affirmative action on the basis of social criteria can be saved, but
only if it is supported by an ambitious program of wealth re­distribution
and if it complements universal mea­sures such as the welfare state,
guaranteed employment, or the inheritance for all.

Mea­sur­ing Racism: The Question of

Ethno-­racial Categories
No m­ atter how useful it is, affirmative action on the basis of social
criteria cannot by itself overcome discriminatory practices that have
ethno-­racial foundations. ­These practices can be fought only if we
adopt indicators and procedures allowing us to mea­sure and correct
them explic­itly and directly. For some observers, the only way to
proceed is to import in Europe ethno-­racial categories like the ones
used for many years by the US Census. W ­ hether or not t­ hese catego-
ries are helpful is uncertain, however. They ­were initially intro-
duced and used to support racial discrimination, not to combat it. To
 Real Equality against Discrimination 197

be sure, for a few de­cades now they have been used to mea­sure the
pervasiveness of racism, and sometimes to fight it, but the results
obtained in terms of social and racial equality in the United States
are not such as to make the rest of the planet squirm with envy. For all
that, however, the rejection of ­these categories and the ritual critique
of the US model do not suffice to define a policy. The truth is that no
country is in a position to lecture o ­ thers regarding racial discrimi-
nation or, for that ­matter, regarding educational justice. For centuries,
­people of dif­fer­ent ethno-­racial origins have lived almost without
contact with each other except through the intermediary of military
domination or slaveholding and colonial relations. The fact that re-
cently we have for some years been cohabiting within the same po­
liti­cal communities constitutes a major advance in civilization. But
it continues to arouse almost everywhere prejudices and po­liti­cal
exploitation that cannot be overcome solely with more democracy
and more equality. Every­one has ­things to learn from the experience
of other countries, and it would be wiser to spend more time finding
solutions than using this question as a pretext for nationalist self-­
satisfaction or contrasting dif­fer­ent national models without any gen-
uine concern for their efficacy and the prob­lems that they do or do
not allow us to solve.
The United Kingdom is the only Eu­ro­pean country that has intro-
duced ethno-­racial categories of the type used in the United States,
with the goal of fighting discrimination.24 Since the 1991 census,
­people have been asked to check a box to indicate their race. Similar
categories are used in many investigations and in documents con-
nected with police checks. Even if that has prob­ably helped draw
more public attention to certain abuses and excesses, to date no study
allows us to say that it has truly made it pos­si­ble to reduce the amount
of racial discrimination in the United Kingdom as compared with

24. Z. Rocha and P. Aspinall, The Palgrave International Handbook of Mixed Racial
and Ethnic Classification (London: Palgrave, 2020).
198 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

other Eu­ro­pean nations.25 We can also note that ­t here is no single

model, and that every­thing depends on the migratory and postcolo-
nial context in question. In Germany and France, populations of
extra-­European origin come for the most part from Turkey and the
Maghreb. But the fact is that the differences in physical appearance
are relatively small all around the Mediterranean: the variations are
gradual and continuous, especially since p­ eople of dif­fer­ent national
origins are constantly mixing—­far more than in the United States,
for example.26 Many individuals with Mediterranean origins have
difficulty choosing a single White/Black racial classification,27 and
investigations have shown that ­they often feel ill at ease with having
to identify themselves using ethno-­racial categories in general.28

25. See A. F. Heath and V. Di Stasio, “Racial Discrimination in Britain, 1969–2017: A
Meta-­A nalysis of Field Experiments on Racial Discrimination in the British ­Labour
Market,” British Journal of Sociology 70, no. 5 (2019): 1774–1798; and L. Quillian et al.,
“Do Some Countries Discriminate More Than O ­ thers? Evidence from 97 Field Experi-
ments of Racial Discrimination in Hiring,” So­cio­log­i­cal Science 6 (2019): 467–496, which
find discrimination greater in France and Sweden than in Britain and Germany, with
differences between countries that are nonetheless below the threshold for statistical
significance.
26. In France, the proportion of intermarriages is as high as 30 to 35 ­percent for per-
sons having an ancestor of North African origin in the preceding generation, or about
the same percentage as for t­ hose having a Portuguese parent or grandparent. It reaches
60 ­percent for persons with Spanish or Italian origins. C. Beauchemin, B. Lhommeau,
and P. Simon, “Histoires migratoires et profils socioeconomiques,” in Trajectoires et
origines. Enquête sur la diversité de la population française (Paris: INED, 2015). In 2015,
15 ­percent of intermarriages in the United States i­ ncluded persons identifying themselves
as Black (compared with 2 ­percent in 1967). The proportion of intermarriages reaches 25
to 30 ­percent for Latinos and Latinas and minorities with Asian ancestry. It is about
10 ­percent for Whites. See G. Livingston and A. Brown, “Intermarriage in the U.S.
50 Years ­a fter Loving v. V
­ irginia,” Pew Research Center, May 18, 2017.
27. In British censuses, between a quarter and half of p ­ eople born in Turkey, Egypt,
or the Maghreb classify themselves as “White,” a category with which they identify
more than with “Black / Ca­rib­bean” or “Indian / Pakistani.” ­Others choose “Asian,” and
still o
­ thers “Arab” (a category introduced in 2011, without attracting all ­t hose targeted).
28. See P. Simon and M. Clement, Rapport de l’enquête “Mesure de la diversité,” In-
stitut Nationale d’Études Démographiques (INED), 2006. The discomfort expressed in
the face of ethno-racial questionnaires is much stronger among people of North African
descent than among those of sub-Saharan or West Indian origin. See also P. Ndiaye, La
Condition noire: Essai sur une minorité française (Paris: Calmann-Levy, 2008).
 Real Equality against Discrimination 199

­ nder ­these conditions, we can legitimately imagine that the in-

U
troduction of ­these categories in censuses would have mainly nega-
tive effects. But in fact, it is pos­si­ble to go very far in mea­sur­ing racism
and in detecting and correcting discriminatory practices (or in any
case much further than we have so far) without asking p ­ eople to put
themselves in a box based on ethno-­racial identities. Concretely,
France, Germany, and all the other countries concerned by this ques-
tion should establish a center that would monitor discrimination ob-
jectively and draw up a yearly assessment of the state of the situation
to guide policies. In France, researchers have sent false CVs to em-
ployers in response to thousands of job advertisements and observed
the rates of response in the form of a proposal for a hiring interview.
When the name sounds Arab-­Muslim, the rate of response is divided
by four. Names that sound Jewish are also discriminated against,
though less massively.29 The prob­lem is that this study has not been
repeated, so that no one knows w ­ hether the situation has improved
or deteriorated since 2015. Repeated testing on a large scale by a trusted
government agency would allow us to make reliable comparisons over
time and between regions and sectors. Similar mea­sures could be taken
to monitor traffic stops and other police activity for forms of discrimi-
nation based on appearance.30 This agency could also compile data and
issue annual reports on discrimination inside companies, mea­sur­ing
salaries, rates of promotion, availability of training, and so forth. By
combining census data about parents’ country of origin (although
currently this data is not recorded in France and several other coun-
tries) with salary information provided anonymously by companies

29. M.-­A. Valfort, “Discriminations religieuses à l’embauche: une réalité,” study, In-
stitut Montaigne, Paris, October 2015.
30. In the French context, the High Authority for Combating Discrimination and
for Equality (Haute Autorité de lutte contre les discriminations et pour l’égalité,
HALDE) was replaced in 2011 by the Défenseur des droits (an in­de­pen­dent official en-
trusted with defending rights and combating discrimination), but t­ hese authorities
have never had the means necessary to or­ga­nize annual monitoring on a ­g rand scale.
The same goes for the corresponding agency at the Eu­ro­pean level (Agency for Funda-
mental Rights).
200 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

­ nder the supervision of a public authority, it would be pos­si­ble to

u
produce detailed breakdowns by the region, sector, and size of compa-
nies.31 ­These indicators could be used in connection with ­labor ­unions
to identify pos­si­ble discriminatory practices and to provide material
for further investigation. This system might lead to lawsuits or sanc-
tions in the event of clear under-­representation of certain countries of
origin in companies of sufficient size. In theory, if it proves indispens-
able, we could envision introducing a general question about ancestry
into the census.32 But international experience suggests that the real
goal is not to multiply statistics, but to use the available indicators in
the ser­vice of a genuine antidiscrimination policy, firm and resolute,
transparent and reliable, and involving all the actors (­labor ­unions
and employers, po­liti­cal movements and citizen associations). So far,
beyond national models, this has never r­ eally been done.

Religious Neutrality and the Hypocrisies of

French-­Style Secularism
Let us conclude by noting that the b­ attle against ethno-­racial discrim-
ination also involves the invention of new forms of religious neu-
trality. ­There again, no country can claim to have achieved a satisfac-
tory balance. The model of French-­style secularism likes to pre­sent

31. Th
­ ere has long been a question about the parents’ country of origin on many
French public forms (“Employment,” “Training and Professional Qualification,” or
“Trajectories and Origins”). But their periodicity and size are insufficient to produce
detailed breakdowns. In 2010 an official report had proposed, without success, to use
the information provided by employees to produce t­ hese breakdowns (see “Inégalités et
discrimination: Pour un usage critique et responsable de l’outil statistique,” Rapport du
Comité pour la mesure de la diversité et l’évaluation des discriminations (COMEDD),
February 5, 2010. Working through the census would make it pos­si­ble to simplify the
procedure.
32. A pos­si­ble formulation might be: “To the best of your knowledge, do you have
ancestors in any of the following parts of the world?” This question would be followed
by a series of Yes / No checkboxes: Southern Eu­rope, North Africa, Sub-­Saharan Africa,
South Asia, ­etc.
 Real Equality against Discrimination 201

itself as perfectly neutral, but the real­ity is more complex.33 Places of

worship are not officially subsidized, except when they w ­ ere built be-
fore the law of 1905 separated church and state in France. In practice,
this law concerns almost exclusively Christian churches and puts
Muslim believers at a disadvantage in relation to Christians. Catholic
elementary schools, m ­ iddle schools, and lycées that w ­ ere already es-
tablished at the time the Debré law was approved (1959) continue to
be massively financed by the taxpayers, in proportions found in al-
most no other country. Th ­ ese institutions have also retained the right
to choose their pupils freely, without respecting any common rule in
terms of social diversity, so that they make a power­ful contribution
to educational ghettoization.34 Concerning the financing of religions
(clergy and buildings), we must add the central role played by fiscal
subsidies. In France, as in many countries, donations to religions en-
title the giver to tax deductions that constitute, de facto, a mode of
extremely inegalitarian public financing, ­because the public subsidy
increases along with the proportion of the donation (in practice, this
­favors certain new religions with re­spect to o ­ thers).35
The same is true for charitable donations in Italy, where e­ very tax-
payer can assign a fraction of his taxes to the religion of his choice, or

33. The younger generations are much more sensitive to anti-­Muslim discrimination
than are el­derly persons, and this may bode well for positive developments. See “En-
quête auprès des lycéens sur la laïcité et la place des religions à l’école et dans la société,”
International League against Racism and Anti-­Semitism (LICRA), March 4, 2021.
34. See J. Grenet, “Renforcer la mixité sociale dans les collèges parisiens,” pre­sen­ta­
tion at the Paris School of Economics, June 22, 2016. France is also the only country that
has chosen to close its primary schools one day per week (Thursday, from 1882 to 1972,
and thereafter Wednesday) to study catechism. This day was about to be reinstated, but
in 2017 it was de­cided to continue this French exception, despite a fragmented week and
excessively long school days, and despite proven harmful effects on learning and gender
inequalities. See C. Van Effenterre, “Essais sur les normes et les inégalités de genre”
(PhD diss., École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, 2017).
35. In France, a­ fter tax deduction, a donation of 100 euros costs the taxpayer only 34
euros; the remaining 66 euros are paid by the national collective. This subsidy applies to
all charitable giving devoted to the general interest; tax relief is capped at 20 ­percent of
taxable income (which excludes the poorest half of the population).
202 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

in Germany, where the mechanism takes the form of a supplemen-

tary tax collected for the churches. In both cases, t­ here is a bias in
­favor of religions that have a unified national organ­ization (which in
practice excludes the Muslim religion). In comparison, the French
model, which treats religious associations in the same way as other
associations, is potentially more satisfactory. It amounts to seeing re-
ligion as a belief or a cause like o
­ thers, and f­ avors the renewal and di-
versity of structures. This system could be made more egalitarian by
changing public subsidies into vouchers of equal amounts for all, and
each person could then donate to the organ­ization of choice, w ­ hether
religious, cultural, or humanitarian, according to personal values and
beliefs. Such a system would advance real equality and move away
from the current climate of suspicion and stigmatization.
 •
9

E X I T I N G N E O­C O­L O­N I A L­I S M

The ­battle for equality is not over. It must be continued by pushing to

its logical conclusion the movement ­toward the welfare state, progres-
sive taxation, real equality, and the strug­gle against all kinds of dis-
crimination. This b ­ attle also, and especially, involves a structural
transformation of the global economic system. The end of colonialism
has made it pos­si­ble to begin a pro­cess of equalization, but the world-­
economy remains profoundly hierarchical and unequal in its work-
ings. Our current economic organ­ization, which is founded on the
uncontrolled circulation of capital lacking e­ ither a social or an envi-
ronmental objective, often resembles a form of neo­co­lo­nial­ism that
benefits the wealthiest persons. This model of development is po­liti­
cally and ecologically untenable. Moving beyond it requires the trans-
formation of the national welfare state into a federal welfare state
open to the global South, along with a profound revision of the rules
and treaties that currently govern globalization.

The Trente Glorieuses and the Global South:

The Limits of the National Welfare State
If we examine the evolution of the differences in wealth between coun-
tries over the past two centuries, we find two clearly distinct phases:
first, a long period of increasing in­equality between 1820 and 1950,
which corresponds to the Western powers’ conquest of the world
economy between 1820 and 1910, followed by the maximal extension
204 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

16
Ratio between the richest 10%
and the poorest 50%

2
1820 1840 1860 1880 1900 1920 1940 1960 1980 2000 2020

figure 36. ​Differences in Income between Countries, 1820–2020: The Long Exit

from Colonialism
The differences in income between countries, as mea­sured by the ratio between the
average income of the 10 ­percent living in the richest countries and the average in-
come of the 50 ­percent living in the poorest countries, increased steadily between
1820 and 1960–1980, and then began to decrease.
Note: For the calculation of this ratio, the population of countries straddling deciles
is distributed between ­these deciles as if they ­were several dif­fer­ent countries.
Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

of colonial empires between 1910 and 1950; then a phase between 1950
and 1980 in which inequalities between countries ­were highly stable
(the Trente Glorieuses in the global North, in­de­pen­dence in the
global South), followed by an initial diminution between 1980 and
2020. In 1820, the 10 ­percent of the world population that lived in the
world’s richest countries had an average income that was a ­little over
three times greater than that of the 50 ­percent that lived in the poorest
countries. This was not complete equality, but it corresponded to a
world in which the differences between countries ­were relatively small
(and in which the average income of the population as a w ­ hole was
very low). In 1960, the extent of the scale of worldwide incomes was
five times greater: from one to sixteen. Despite a clear drop since 1980,
the scale still ranges from one to eight in 2020 (see Figure 36).
Several points are worth stressing. First of all, it is clear that world-
wide inequalities remain very ­great, and that they bear the scars of
 Exiting Neocolonialism 205

colonialism and the divergence between the West and the rest of the
world between 1820 and 1960. Although inequalities have decreased
in recent de­cades, led in part by gains in total income in China but
also in South Asia and Sub-­Saharan Africa, this pro­cess is very far from
over.1 Both the old powers and the new tend to make less wealthy
countries permanently dependent on them, without granting them the
means to develop autonomously, so that a relationship that is perma-
nently hierarchical is in no way impossible ­unless ­there is adequate
mobilization and sufficiently strong po­liti­cal opposition. We must
also avoid idealizing the postwar period of the Trente Glorieuses
(1950–1980), adorned with all the virtues of the global North, whereas
the global South was above all marked by wars for in­de­pen­dence and
difficult strug­gles to establish sovereignty in situations characterized
by ­great poverty and extreme demographic pressure. The social wel-
fare state of the Trente Glorieuses, apart from the fact that it preferred
to be social-­patriarchal, was above all a nationalist social welfare state,
in the sense that it was developed chiefly in northern nation-­states
with systems of social protection and investments in education and
infrastructure conceived to benefit the p ­ eople of ­those nations,
without excessive concern about the international and colonial inte-
gration in the recent past—­a ll too easily forgotten—­that had allowed
the West to get rich or about the development of the rest of the
planet.2 The populations of the South might be asked to supply the

1. Since 2010, China has ceased to be one of the poorest 50 ­percent of countries, and
the decline of the ratio indicated in Figure 36 reflects above all the growth of India, In-
donesia, Vietnam, and parts of Africa. We note that the in­equality of income per hour
worked is still greater than the in­equality of total income: the poor countries have, on
average, longer working hours per person, but that makes up only very partially for the
smaller economic and educational capital at their disposal. See L. Chancel and T. Pik-
etty, “Global Income In­equality, 1820–2020,” July 20, 2021, WID.world.
2. On the notion of the “Keynesian-­Westphalian” state (in Fraser’s sense) or the
“national-­social” state (in Balibar’s sense), see N. Fraser, Scales of Justice: Reimagining
Po­liti­cal Space in a Globalized World (Cambridge: Polity, 2009); E. Balibar and I. Wallerstein,
Race, Nation, Class: Ambiguous Identities, trans. C. Turner (London: Verso, 1991);
E. Balibar, Histoire interminable. D’un siècle l’autre (Paris: La Découverte, 2020);
206 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

North’s needs for ­labor, but no one envisaged any outcome other than
immediately sending them home once the work was done, or raised
the question of a model of codevelopment and the new forms of cir-
culation and regulation that it would have implied.
When the colonies ­were winning in­de­pen­dence, leaders like Léo-
pold Senghor in Senegal ­were already aware of the fact that the newly
created states w­ ere g­ oing to be much too weak to negotiate their place
in the global division of l­abor. To gain some clout when confronting
the multinationals and Western states, and also to avoid reproducing
nationalist rivalries like ­those in Eu­rope, Senghor envisaged the de-
velopment of a vast federation of West Africa. This proj­ect material-
ized between 1959 and 1961 in the form of the ephemeral Federation
of Mali, which briefly grouped together Senegal and the pre­sent states
of Mali, Benin, and Burkina Faso, a­ fter Ivory Coast and Niger had
fi­nally withdrawn.3 Other federal proj­ects sporadically appeared,
such as the United Arab States (Egypt, Syria, Yemen) or the West
Indies Federation (which included Jamaica, Trinidad, and Barbados,
among ­others) between 1958 and 1962.4 When setting up the UN,
several del­e­ga­tions tried to give more weight to the countries of the
South and to public regulation of commercial flows and investments.
The International Trade Organ­ization (ITO) proj­ect supported by

L. Boltanski, N. Fraser, and P. Corcuff, Domination et émancipation. Pour un renouveau

de la critique sociale (Lyon: Presses universitaires de Lyon, 2014).
3. France had a destabilizing effect on the proj­ect, insofar as between 1945 and 1960
it continued to entertain the illusion of a Franco-­A frican federal ­u nion directed by
Paris, to the detriment of West African federal proj­ects. See F. Cooper, Citizenship be-
tween Empire and Nation: Remaking France and French Africa, 1945–1960 (Prince­ton,
NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2014). The Federation of Mali, at its largest, was sup-
posed to have had fewer than 20 million inhabitants in 1960, each of the six component
countries contributing between two and four million.
4. The proj­ect for the West Indies was notably pushed by the Trinidadian C. L. R.
James, known for his very influential book on the slave revolt in Saint-­Domingue, The
Black Jacobins (New York: Dial Press, 1938), and for his debates with Trotsky about the
self-­organization of minorities within emancipation movements. See L. Trotsky, Ques-
tion juive, question noire. Textes choisis et commentés de Léon Trotsky, foreword by D.
Obono and P. Silberstein (Paris: Syllepse, 2011).
 Exiting Neocolonialism 207

India and Brazil in 1947–1948 went so far as to propose a multilateral

­legal framework that would have made it pos­si­ble to collectively reg-
ulate nationalizations and transfers of property. Worried about this
interventionism, which could escape their control and threaten their
interests, the rich countries rejected this proj­ect.5 It was replaced by
structures such as the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade
(GATT), then the World Trade Organ­ization (WTO), which allowed
rich countries to keep the upper hand and to impose their conditions
on sensitive questions right down to the pre­sent day.6

Neo­co­lo­nial­ism, Commercial Liberalization,

and Tax Havens
The conservative revolution of the 1980s, with its regular attacks on
progressive taxation in English-­speaking countries and its obsession
with the ­free circulation of capital (a new motto that came from
Western Eu­rope as well as from the United States) was also to help
redefine the discourse of the wealthy countries and international
organ­izations with regard to the global South. Starting in 1980–1990,
what has been called the Washington Consensus permeated the pol-
icies the poor countries ­were advised to adopt: a smaller role for the
state, bud­get austerity, commercial liberalization, and all-­around de-
regulation. In view of the asymmetrical power relationships involved,

5. R. Toye, “Developing Multilateralism: The Havana Charter and the Fight for the
International Trade Organ­ization, 1947–1948,” International History Review 25, no. 2
(2003): 282–305. Compare Q. Slobodian, Globalists: The End of Empire and the Birth of
Neoliberalism (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2018). Note that the British
­Labour Party opposed proj­ects for the ITO (judged to be contrary to imperial interests
and violently stigmatized by the Tories) and that the French Socialists ­were directing
the government at the time of the Suez expedition in 1956 (they w ­ ere then allied with
the center-­right against the Communists).
6. The possibility for Western nations to veto any proposal that threatens them was
illustrated in 2020–2021 during the Covid-19 crisis, when wealthy countries blocked a
demand by India, South Africa, and about a hundred countries in the global South that
the WTO temporarily suspend intellectual property rules regarding vaccines.
208 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

it is no exaggeration to say that t­ hese polices w­ ere imposed more than

advised, and to see in them a form of neo­co­lo­nial­ism (even if the
mechanisms of persuasion w ­ ere not the same as in the colonial
period). Since the 2008 crisis, it is fash­ion­able to say that this consensus
7

no longer exists, and that the IMF, the World Bank, and Western
governments have become aware of the excesses of liberalization, the
resurgence of inequalities, and the environmental crisis. In real­ity,
­because it has not been replaced by an alternative, liberal orthodoxy
continues to have considerable influence, particularly regarding
the South.
With the distance we can take on it t­ oday, it is clear that this policy
of rapid deregulation and commercial liberalization has helped per-
manently weaken the fragile pro­cess of constructing a legitimate gov-
ernment and state power in the global South. Concretely, if we ex-
amine their tax receipts as a proportion of GDP, we see that the poorest
states on the planet became poorer between 1970–1980 and 1990–2000,
before gaining slightly between 2010 and 2020, though never reaching
their starting point (which was very low to begin with). The fall in tax
receipts is explained almost entirely by the loss of customs duties. Let
us acknowledge that reducing taxes on international trade is not nec-
essarily a bad t­ hing in itself, especially if they are replaced by direct
taxes on the profits of multinationals and the highest incomes and
wealth. But that is not at all what happened: the suppression of cus-
toms duties was imposed very rapidly, without giving the countries
concerned time to develop alternative receipts, and without any in-
ternational support for that purpose—­quite the contrary. In fact,
the very princi­ple of progressive taxation was at the same time deni-
grated by the Washington Consensus.8 Fi­nally, the divergence in

7. Without idealizing the Cold War period, recent studies have shown that at that
time, competition between East and West was accompanied by greater attention to the
global South than what followed. See S. Kott, Organiser le monde. Une autre histoire de
la guerre froide (Paris: Seuil, 2021).
8. In the West, the loss of (historically very high) customs duties occurred in a much
more gradual way in the course of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, without ex-
 Exiting Neocolonialism 209

fiscal capacity has clearly grown since 1970: the receipts of poor
countries stagnated at about 15  ­percent of GDP, whereas ­those of
wealthy countries r­ ose from 30 ­percent to 40 ­percent (see Figure 37).
­These are very low levels, and they also conceal large disparities. In
many African countries, such as Nigeria, Chad, or the Central African
Republic, fiscal receipts amount to 6 to 8 ­percent of GDP. But as we
have noted elsewhere, such receipts are barely sufficient to maintain
order and build basic infrastructure. They do not make it pos­si­ble to
envisage financing a significant investment in education and health
care, and they cannot adequately fund a social security system. If a
state seeks to fulfill all t­ hese functions with such small tax receipts,
the danger is that none of them w ­ ill properly function (which is, un-
fortunately, often the case, so difficult is it to decide to abandon this
or that essential function).9 In view of the fact that the pro­cess of
development in wealthy countries was based on a major increase in
the power of the fiscal state (with receipts rising from less than
10 ­percent to more than 40 ­percent of the national income between
1914 and 1980), we can naturally won­der why t­ hese same countries im-
posed such a policy on poor countries. This may be explained by his-
torical amnesia, or ­else by doubts regarding the ability of the ex-­
colonies to govern themselves on their own and to administer large
receipts. Unfortunately, the solution proposed (the impoverishment
of countries in the global South) does not exactly f­ avor a virtuous dy-
namic.10 More trivially, this may also reflect the fact that the rich

ternal pressure, and ­a fter taking care to prepare substitute receipts. See J. Cagé and L.
Gadenne, “Tax Revenues and the Fiscal Cost of Trade Liberalization, 1792–2006,” Ex-
plorations in Economic History 70 (2018): 1–24.
9. The absence of the registration and minimal taxation of real estate and business
goods in poor countries has also resulted in a hypertrophy of the informal sector. See
M. Chen and F. Carré, The Informal Economy Revisited: Examining the Past, Envi-
sioning the ­Future (London: Routledge, 2020).
10. An additional difficulty for the construction of the state in the South is that the
most educated t­ here can compare their salaries with t­ hose of ­people with the same
qualifications in the North (or with ­t hose of former colonial officials), especially since
the option of emigrating is a l­ ittle less closed to them than to ­others in the South. This
210 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

45%
40%
Tax receipts in % of GDP

35%
High-income regions: total tax receipts
30%
Same regions, taxes on international trade only
25% Low-income regions: total tax receipts
20% Same regions, taxes on international trade only
15%
10%
5%
0%
1970–1979 1980–1989 1990–1999 2000–2009 2010–2019

figure 37. ​State Building and Trade Liberalization, 1970–2020

In low-­income regions (the poorest third, such as Sub-­Saharan Africa and South
Asia), tax revenue fell from 15.6 ­percent of the GDP in 1970–1979 to 13.7 ­percent in
1990–1999 and 14.5 ­percent in 2010–2019, essentially ­because of the uncompensated
decline of customs duties and other taxes on international trade (which brought in
5.9 ­percent of GDP in 1970–1979, 3.9 ­percent in 1990–1999, and 2.8 ­percent in 2010–
2019). In high-­income regions (the richest third, such as Eu­rope and North Amer­i­ca),
customs duties ­were already very low at the beginning of the period and tax revenues
continued to rise, and then stabilized. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

countries have been especially concerned to liberalize trade in order

to open markets for their companies, and they have not been very in-
terested in helping poor countries tax the profits of multinationals or
regulate outflows of capital from the South, especially since ­t hese
funds are usually invested in the banks and capitals of the North.
We must stress the magnitude of the damage done to the South by
the increasing power of the f­ ree circulation of capital, tax havens, and
international financial opacity over the last few de­cades. Of course,
this damage is extensive almost everywhere, including in the North,
where the uncontrolled circulation of capital has encouraged not only
fresh challenges to progressive income taxes but also the establish-
ment of a new censitary power. However, in addition to the fact that

complicates the pro­cess and makes all the more necessary the development of coopera-
tion and a transnational norm of justice.
 Exiting Neocolonialism 211

it was the states of the North that imposed this new l­egal system on
the rest of the world, the southern countries have been particularly
affected by it, given the weakness of the state and the administration.
According to the available estimates, the financial assets held in tax
havens represent between 10 and 20 ­percent of the total of the port-
folios owned in Eu­rope and in Latin Amer­i­ca (which is already con-
siderable), and this share is between 30 and 50 ­percent in Africa, in
South Asia, and in oil-­producing countries (Rus­sia, the oil monar-
chies in the ­Middle East). In the case of the largest portfolios, every­
thing indicates that the use of tax havens is even greater.11 De facto,
this amounts to a massive and generalized evasion of national ­legal
systems to the benefit of offshore jurisdictions, all with the blessing
of the highest global authorities, international law, and the local elites.
­Under such conditions, it is virtually impossible for the poorest states
to launch into a v­ iable pro­cess of state construction, which is neces-
sarily based on the ­people’s minimal consent to taxation, and thus on
the construction of a credible norm of fiscal and social justice. If the
wealthiest openly escape what are meant to be shared burdens, it is
very difficult to advance in that direction.

The Pretenses of International Aid and

Climate Policies
We must also emphasize the extreme hy­poc­risy that surrounds the
very notion of international aid. First, public aid for development is
much more l­imited than is often i­magined: in all, it represents less
than 0.2 ­percent of the global GDP (and scarcely 0.03 ­percent of the
global GDP for emergency humanitarian aid).12 In comparison, the

11. T. Piketty, Capital and Ideology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard Uni-
versity Press, 2020), 601; A. Alstadsæter, N. Johannesen, and G. Zucman, “Who Owns
the Wealth in Tax Havens?” Journal of Public Economics 162 (2018): 89–100.
12. P. Micheletti, 0,03 %. Pour une transformation du mouvement humanitaire inter-
national (Paris: Éditions Parole, 2020). The OECD’s official target for public aid for
212 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

cost of climatic damage inflicted on poor countries by past and cur-

rent emissions from rich countries amounts by itself to several points
of the global GDP.13 The second prob­lem, which is not a detail, is that
in most of the countries supposedly “aided” in Africa, South Asia, and
elsewhere, the amount of the outflow in the form of multinationals’
profits and capital flights is in real­ity several times greater than the
incoming flows from public assistance, even if we limit ourselves to
out­going flows registered in the official national accounts, and ­there
is e­ very reason to think that they underestimate the real flows.14 ­Here
we are talking about an essential point in the relations between center
and periphery on the global scale, one that never ceases to amaze ob-
servers: the rich countries claim to be helping t­ hose countries from
which they are deriving profits. We find this general real­ity not only
in North-­South relations, but also in regional relations, for example
in Eu­rope. If we examine the difference between the public funds re-
ceived (for example, in the case of regional investment funds) and
the contributions paid into the EU bud­get, we see that countries like
Poland, Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia received net
public transfers amounting to between 2 and 4 ­percent of GDP be-
tween 2010 and 2018. The prob­lem is that the out­going flows, in the
form of profits, dividends, and other income from property, have been
almost twice as high during the same period: between 4 and 8 ­percent
of their GDP (see Figure 38). In Eastern Eu­rope, it is justifiably pointed

­ evelopment is 0.7 ­percent of the gross national product (GNP) for rich countries, but
d
many countries like France give around 0.3–0.4 ­percent, so that the worldwide total is
less than 200 billion euros (for a worldwide GDP of 100,000 billion in 2020, or less than
0.2 ­percent). Let us add that the Official Development Assistance (ODA) includes ex-
penses such as salaries for Western con­sul­tants that some ­people would hesitate to in-
clude in the category of assistance.
13. See Chapter 1. On the amount of the minimal funds for adaptation according to
the United Nations (between 0.5 and 1.0 ­percent of the annual GDP), see L. Chancel and
T. Piketty, “Carbon and In­equality: From Kyoto to Paris,” November 2015, WID.world.
14. In the period 1970–2012, the official out­going flow of income from capital was on
average three times greater in Africa than the incoming flow from international aid. See
T. Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-­First C
­ entury (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Har-
vard University Press, 2014), 68–69.
 Exiting Neocolonialism 213

Average annual flows 2010–2018 (% GDP)

8%
Outflows of profits and
7% other property income
Inflows of EU transfers
6%

5%

4%

3%

2%

1%

0%
Poland Hungary Czech Republic Slovakia

figure 38. ​Economic Flows In and Out of Eastern Eu­rope, 2010–2018

Between 2010 and 2018, the annual flow of EU net transfers (the difference between
total expenditures received and contributions paid into the EU bud­get) averaged
2.7 ­percent of GDP in Poland; over the same period, the out­going flow of profits and
other capital income (net of corresponding inflows) averaged 4.7 ­percent of GDP.
For Hungary, ­t hese same figures ­were 4.0 and 7.2 ­percent. Sources and series: pik-
etty.pse.ens.fr/equality

out that investors from the West (especially the Germans and the
French) have used the new member states as a reservoir of cheap ­labor
where they have realized im­mense profits, while at the same time
placing t­ hese territories in a state of permanent economic subordi-
nation. For their part, Germany and France prefer to ignore the
private out­going flows: they like to see them as a natu­ral compen-
sation for the investments made, and think that only the incoming
public flows should be examined. ­There is a practical ele­ment to the
dominant actors’ propensity to “naturalize” economic forces and the
“market balance” and to concentrate on the transfers set up ex post
(that is, ­after this virtuous balance has been established), transfers that
are then seen as an act of generosity on the part of the winners in the
market. That the power relationships at work in property relations are
in no way natu­ral is sometimes forgotten. The level of salaries and
profits depends on multiple mechanisms and social institutions, such
214 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

as the existence or nonexistence of social and fiscal harmonization at

the Eu­ro­pean level, the rules governing the circulation of capital, and
so on, all of which should be included in the discussion.15
The same logic is at work on the global level. By focusing on public
assistance, even though it is minuscule, and forgetting to inquire into
the magnitude of private flows, a completely distorted view of the in-
ternational economic system has been constructed. We must add
that assistance is always given at the plea­sure of the wealthy countries
and ­under their supervision through the intermediary of development
agencies or nongovernmental organ­izations. Although in absolute
terms assistance is modest, the amounts are sometimes substantial
when compared to the meager tax receipts supervised by the govern-
ments of the poorest countries. Studies have shown how the resources
provided by agencies and NGOs through distribution networks
that circumvent official state networks have helped weaken a ­little fur-
ther the pro­cess of state construction, especially in the context of the
Sahel, where the founding of a territorial sovereignty accepted by the
vari­ous local actors and social groups has never ­really had time to
establish itself a­ fter decolonization. Assistance given to supplement
normal tax revenues would have had a positive impact, but interven-
tion in a context of extreme state impoverishment, one which merely
delegitimized the state a l­ ittle bit more, prob­ably did not help much.16

Rights for Poor Countries: Moving Away

from the Center-­Periphery Logic
To find a way back from ­these dead ends, we have to begin from the
princi­ple that e­ very country should have an equal right to develop

15. On the necessity of renovating the analy­sis of social classes, working conditions,
and the system they form at the Eu­ro­pean level, see C. Hugree, E. Penissat, and A.
Spire, Social Class in Eu­rope: New Inequalities in the Old World (London: Verso, 2020).
16. G. Mann, From Empires to NGOs in the West African Sahel: The Road to Nongov-
ernmentality (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015).
 Exiting Neocolonialism 215

itself, and more generally that the distribution of the wealth produced
at the global level is an eminently po­liti­cal question that depends en-
tirely on the rules and institutions that have been established. In par­
tic­u­lar, the poor countries should have the right to receive part of the
taxes paid by the planet’s multinationals and billionaires, on the one
hand, ­because e­ very ­human being has at minimum an equal right to
health care, education, and development, and on the other hand,
­because the prosperity of the richest actors is entirely dependent on
the global economic system and the international division of ­labor.
For starters, we can imagine, for example, a worldwide tax of 2 ­percent
on fortunes that exceed 10 million euros, which would bring in con-
siderable sums: around 1,000 billion euros each year, or 1 ­percent of
the global GDP, which could be allocated to each country in propor-
tion to its population.17 By placing the threshold at 2 million euros, it
would be pos­si­ble to levy 2 ­percent of the global GDP, or 5 ­percent with
a very progressive scale for billionaires.18 If we confine ourselves to the
least ambitious option (letting each country make up the rest, when
necessary, with its own tax scale on the largest fortunes), that would
be amply sufficient to replace entirely all the current public assistance
and to provide supplementary means that would make it pos­si­ble to
invest massively in health care, education, and infrastructure in the
poorest countries. All this could be complemented by giving poor
countries the right to receive part of the tax on the profits of multina-
tionals, in connection with current discussions of that subject.19

17. Such a tax would concern less than 0.1 ­percent of the world population (around 3
million adults out of 5 billion), a group that holds about 15 ­percent of total wealth, or
75 ­percent of global GDP (75,000 billion euros). In comparison, the 3,000 billionaires listed
by Forbes (less than 0.001 ­percent of the world population) hold about 2 ­percent of total
wealth, or 10 ­percent of the world GDP (10,000 billion euros). In short, the potential re-
ceipts are much larger with a wealth tax starting at 10 million euros rather than 1 billion.
18. See Chapter 7, T
­ able 2.
19. The BEPS proj­ect presently being debated in the OECD envisages requiring mul-
tinationals to make a single declaration of their profits on the global level, which would
represent a major advance. The prob­lem is that when the time comes to divide up this
fiscal base among countries, the plan is to use a mixture of criteria (payrolls and sales
216 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

The rich countries could, of course, continue to finance their own

development agencies and humanitarian organ­izations in the form
of public and private assistance. But that would be in addition to poor
countries’ irrevocable right to develop themselves and build their
state. To avoid money being misused, we must generalize the tracking
of the excessive fortunes accumulated by the leaders of both the
South and the North, not only in the government and the public sector
but also in the private sector. But this fear must cease to be instru-
mentalized in order to constantly challenge the very legitimacy of
states in the global South. For the fragile pro­cess of construction to
resume its course in poor countries on a better basis, it is crucial that
the states in question escape from the guardianship of northern
lenders and that they have automatic fiscal receipts they can count on
over the long term.
The biggest prob­lem with the current conception of international
assistance is that it presupposes the existence of a fundamentally fair
market balance, in which each country is the legitimate owner of the
wealth it has produced and accumulated in the past, in splendid iso-
lation. But that is not at all how t­ hings happened. The enrichment of
the West since the Industrial Revolution could not have occurred
without the global division of ­labor and the frenetic exploitation of
the planet’s natu­ral and ­human resources. In general, the rich coun-
tries would not exist without the poor countries and without the re-
sources of the rest of the world: this also holds for both the former
Western powers and the new Asian powers (Japan and China). ­After
slaves, cotton, timber, and then coal in the eigh­teenth and nineteenth

made in the vari­ous territories), which in practice would lead to attributing to the rich
countries more than 95 ­percent of the profits currently placed in tax havens, leaving
only crumbs for poor countries. To escape this dead end, it is imperative that at least
part of the receipts be prorated according to the population of each country (one person,
one euro). Moreover, the receipts foreseen using a minimal rate of 15 to 20 ­percent on
multinationals being considered by the OECD are scarcely 100 billion euros (0.1 ­percent
of the global GDP). Rates of 25–30 ­percent would make higher receipts pos­si­ble, but
in any case what is at stake is less impor­tant than the progressive tax on the largest
fortunes.
 Exiting Neocolonialism 217

centuries, in the course of the twentieth c­ entury and the early twenty-­
first c­ entury, economic development has continued to be based on
the large-­scale use of the world’s resources, through cheap ­labor in
the peripheral countries and reserves of oil and gas that have accumu-
lated under­ground over millions of years, and which we are burning
at an accelerated pace that is threatening to make the planet uninhab-
itable, to the detriment chiefly of the poorest countries.20
The idea that each country (or worse yet, each person in each
country) is individually responsible for its production and its wealth
makes ­little sense from a historical point of view. All wealth is col-
lective in origin. Private property was instituted (or o ­ ught to be in-
stituted) only insofar as it serves the common interest, in the context
of a balanced set of institutions and rights making it pos­si­ble to limit
individual accumulations, to make power circulate, and to distribute
wealth more fairly. The fear of not knowing where to stop in such a
po­liti­cal pro­cess is understandable, especially on the transnational
scale, where prejudices are often considerable and where the social
groups concerned do not know each other well and may have diffi-
culty correctly perceiving their respective situations, which makes the
quest for a common norm of justice even more complex and uncer-
tain.21 This fear is, however, a bad counselor, b
­ ecause in real­ity t­ here is
no option other than this po­liti­cal and institutional pro­cess, which is
as fragile as it is indispensable. The compromises and devices that

20. Studies have also shown how the dif­fer­ent energy-­producing systems have them-
selves had an impact on the form of social conflicts and the distribution of wealth: coal
and its accompanying concentrations of l­ abor have made it easier to mobilize workers,
whereas the fluidity of oil has, on the contrary, helped quash social movements. See T.
Mitchell, Carbon Democracy: Po­liti­cal Power in the Age of Oil (London: Verso, 2011).
Compare P. Charbonnier, Abondance et liberté. Une histoire environnementale des idées
politiques (Paris: La Découverte, 2020).
21. During the interwar period, Gramsci emphasized the difficulties involved in
constituting a popu­lar bloc in a southern, peripheral context, including within Italy. He
explains, for example, that the poverty of the Mezzogiorno region remains largely in-
comprehensible for most in the North, where some actors are tempted to constitute a
common historical consciousness by appealing to a mystified nationalism of the fascist
type. See A. Tosel, Étudier Gramsci (Paris: Editions Kimé, 2016).
218 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

­ ill be found, like reparations or the worldwide taxes discussed ­here,

w
­will always be imperfect and provisional. But the alternative solutions
consisting in making the market sacred and in absolute re­spect for
property rights acquired in the past, what­ever their magnitude or
their origin, are only incoherent constructs seeking to perpetuate in-
justices and positions of power that are without foundation, and that
in the final analy­sis merely pave the way for new crises.

From the National-­Social State to the

Federal-­Social State
Beyond the poor countries’ right to develop themselves and to receive
part of the tax receipts of the multinationals and the billionaires, it is
the w­ hole of international organ­ization that must be rethought. For
several de­cades, the global economic system has been based on a two-
fold postulate. On the one hand, the relations between countries are
supposed to be based on the most absolutely f­ ree circulation of goods
and capital, virtually without any conditions. On the other hand, the
po­liti­cal choices made within countries, notably in terms of the fiscal,
social, or l­ egal system, concern only t­ hese countries, and must be the
object of a strictly national sovereignty: that is the princi­ple of the
national-­social state. The prob­lem is that ­these two postulates are in-
compatible: the ­free, uncontrolled circulating of capital, without any
taxation or common regulation, radically biases national choices
in ­favor of the most mobile and most power­ful actors, and thus con-
stitutes de facto a new form of censitary power to the benefit of the
richest. More generally, f­ ree trade without control is accompanied by
an increase of inequalities within countries and a headlong rush
­toward global warming, both of which are now broadly recognized
as the two main challenges of globalization.22

22. The rise of inequalities within countries since 1980 concerns not only the United
States and Eu­rope, but also the rest of the world, starting with India, China, and Rus­sia.
The only regions in which inequalities have not increased, or increased only a l­ ittle, are
 Exiting Neocolonialism 219

In theory, the solution is relatively s­ imple. We have to replace the

purely commercial and financial treaties that have up to now or­ga­
nized globalization with treaties that promote genuine, sustainable,
and equitable codevelopment. The new types of treaties would set ex-
plicit, binding social and environmental goals, with quantified, veri-
fiable targets. ­These targets would address, for example, tax rates for
multinationals, the distribution of wealth, the volume of carbon emis-
sions, and biodiversity. They would subordinate the pursuit of trade
to the achievement of ­these objectives instead of making the former
a precondition.23 Obviously, the passage from one kind of treaty to
the other w ­ ill not happen overnight. Patience w ­ ill be needed to build
co­a li­tions of countries that wish to go in this direction, and t­ here is
no guarantee that the transition ­will always go smoothly, even if
­there is widespread awareness that current globalization is at an im-
passe. Ideally, codevelopment treaties should also include a major
transnational dimension that is demo­cratic. In the case of the classic
treaties, the logic of the ­whole is very vertical: heads of state and
their administrations negotiate the rules of ­free trade among them-
selves. ­These rules may be the object of a ratification by parliament,
and then every­thing works on autopi­lot, without any genuinely

the ones that did not ­really experience an egalitarian phase in the postwar period (in
par­t ic­u ­lar, the ­Middle East, Latin Amer­i­ca, and Sub-­Saharan Africa). In all, between
1980 and 2018, the richest 1 ­percent on the planet have appropriated a share of world-
wide growth that is more than twice as high as that ­going to the poorest 50 ­percent. See
F. Alvaredo et al., World In­equality Report 2018 (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Har-
vard University Press, 2018).
23. This also involves a profound change in the indicators used: the classic treaties
appeal to the GDP or to the deficit and the debt, expressed as a percentage of GDP (as in
the Eu­ro­pean treaties); the treaties of codevelopment would have to introduce indica-
tors concerning inequalities, profit / salary sharing, or carbon emissions. This is partly
the case in the climate accords, with the difference that they are not binding. On the
need to include social justice goals in international law, see A. Supiot, The Spirit of Phil-
adelphia: Social Justice vs. the Total Market, trans. S. Brown (London: Verso, 2012);; M.
Delmas-­Marty, Aux quatre vents du monde. Petit guide de navigation dans l’océan de la
mondialisation (Paris: Seuil, 2016); S. Moyn, Not Enough: H ­ uman Rights in an Unequal
World (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2018).
220 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

­t a bl e 3
A New Organ­ization of Globalization: Transnational Democracy
Transnational Assembly
In charge of global public goods (climate, research, training, work, ­etc.) and
global fiscal justice (common taxes on the largest fortunes and revenues and on
the largest companies, carbon taxes)

National National National National

Assembly Assembly Assembly Assembly [. . .]
Country A Country B Country C Country D

Note: According to the proposed organ­ization, treaties regulating globalization

(circulation of goods, capital, and persons) ­w ill henceforth provide for the coun-
tries concerned to create a transnational assembly in charge of global public goods
(climate, research, training, l­ abor laws, e­ tc.) and global fiscal justice (common taxes
on the largest inheritances, highest incomes, and largest firms, and carbon taxes).
Countries A, B, C, and D may be states like France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and so
on, in which case the transnational assembly would be the Eu­ro­pean Assembly; or
­else they could be regional ­unions like the Eu­ro­pean Union, the African Union, and
so on, in which case the transnational assembly would be the Euro-­African Union.
The transnational assembly may consist of deputies of national assemblies and / or
transnational deputies specially elected for the purpose, as the case may be.
Source: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

demo­cratic supervision. Even the settlement of disputes is possibly

subcontracted to private arbitration courts, to the g­ reat satisfaction
of the multinationals. In the case of codevelopment treaties, t­here
are many genuinely po­liti­cal arbitrages concerning the social, fiscal,
and environmental regulations to be applied, and t­hese cannot be
entirely determined in advance; they may be delegated, within cer-
tain limits, to transnational assemblies representing the dif­fer­ent sig-
natory countries (see ­Table 3).
Generally speaking, t­ hese assemblies can be of two types: they may
consist of deputies drawn from the national parliaments of the coun-
tries concerned, or they may include transnational deputies specially
elected for this purpose. The second formula may seem more ambi-
 Exiting Neocolonialism 221

tious on the demo­cratic level, in the sense that from the outset the goal
is to move beyond the po­liti­cal institutions of the nation-­state. In
practice, however, this may be a delusion. Since 1979, the Eu­ro­pean
Parliament has been elected directly, with universal suffrage, but the
real power continues to be exercised by the Eu­ro­pean Council of heads
of states or the Council of ministers, which meet b ­ ehind closed doors
and with a single representative per country. Each country has a veto
right on fiscal and bud­getary issues, so that the supposed transna-
tional parliamentary democracy is merely spinning its wheels.24 If
by some miracle una­nim­i­ty makes it pos­si­ble to make a decision, such
as the plan to prime the economic pump ­adopted during the pan-
demic crisis of 2020, with common borrowing intended to come to
the aid of the countries most affected, it ­will have to be approved by
each of the national parliaments. In the current ­legal framework, na-
tional legislative bodies alone are allowed to commit their taxpayers,
and this makes the pro­cess sluggish and not very reactive. One way
out of this impasse could be for countries to establish voluntarily a
Eu­ro­pean Assembly that consists of national deputies (in proportion,
for example, to the size of populations and po­liti­cal groups) that would
be permitted to make a certain number of bud­getary, fiscal, and so-
cial decisions by majority vote within limits set by the countries
concerned.25

24. From 1952 to 1979, the Eu­ro­pean Community had a parliamentary assembly con-
sisting of national deputies, an assembly that in 1962 was renamed the Eu­ro­pean Parlia-
ment, but played primarily a consultative role (in large mea­sure, like t­ oday’s Eu­ro­pean
Parliament).
25. In 2019, a bilateral treaty created a Franco-­German Assembly of this kind, but it
is purely consultative. For a projected treaty of the democ­ratization of Eu­rope that seeks
to open such an assembly to all countries that wish to join it and to endow it with real
powers (voting on a bud­get for a social and ecological jump-­start, financed by progres-
sive taxation), see “Manifesto for the Democ­ratization of Eu­rope,” http://­tdem​.­eu​/­en​
/­manifesto​/­; and M. Bouju, A.-­L . Delatte, S. Hennette, et al., Changer l’Eu­rope, c’est
­pos­si­ble! (Paris: Seuil, 2019).
222 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

For a Social and Demo­cratic Federalism

The question of the federal-­social state does not concern Eu­rope
alone—­far from it. The construction of new forms of federal socialism,
that is, demo­cratic federalism driven by explicit, verifiable social ob-
jectives, is a challenge for the planet as a w
­ hole. For example, the coun-
tries of West Africa are presently engaged in a discussion to redefine
their common currency and fi­nally throw off colonial guardianship.
This is an opportunity to put the West African currency in the ser­
vice of a proj­ect of development based on investment in young ­people
and infrastructure (and no longer serving solely to increase the mo-
bility of the richest ­peoples’ capital). This would involve the invention
of new forms of fiscal and bud­getary federalism, in West Africa and
potentially someday in the African Union as a w ­ hole, absorbing all
the lessons taught by e­ arlier failures, and in par­tic­u­lar by conflicts re-
volving around fiscal transfers that have frequently undermined fed-
eral proj­ects in the post-­independence period.26
The question of fiscal justice and the taxation of the wealthiest is
naturally central to winning support for such proj­ects. The ideal would
be to develop a genuine public financial register making it pos­si­ble to
track holders of financial assets at the national and international lev-
els.27 Discussions have been g­ oing on since the crisis of 2008, with a

26. K. Nubukpo, L’Urgence africaine. Changeons le modèle de croissance (Paris:

Odile Jacob, 2019). In 2008 the West African Economic and Monetary Union issued a
directive instituting a common basis for taxing companies and obliging each country to
apply a tax rate between 25 and 30 ­percent, which the Eu­ro­pean Union has been inca-
pable of ­doing so far. The current proj­ect to transform the CFA franc (a currency that
was issued by the Bank of Senegal founded in 1853 on the basis of indemnities paid to
slaveholders in accord with the law of 1848) into a sovereign currency called Eco has a
strong po­liti­cal and historical dimension.
27. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 674–677. The prob­lem is that countries have given
over the function of registering financial assets (crucial for economic organ­ization) to
private financial depositories that are themselves not exactly transparent, such as the
Depository Trust Com­pany in the United States and Clearstream and Eurostream in
Eu­rope. The solution to the prob­lem involves the creation of a Global Financial Register
(GFR) that would play the role of a central depository.
 Exiting Neocolonialism 223

view to fighting financial opacity and enabling the automatic trans-

mission of international banking information, but so far ­little has
come of them.28 On this subject, as on ­others, ­future pro­gress ­will
also depend on unilateral actions that vari­ous countries can make
right now, without waiting for worldwide or regional una­nim­i­t y. In
par­tic­u­lar, each nation can require holders of real estate, business as-
sets, or production units established on its territory (or involving
users in its territory) to transmit the identity of the o
­ wners concerned
and the profits made, so as to be able apply the tax scales that it has
demo­cratically a­ dopted.29 It is by combining unilateral action with
federal-­social proposals that we can hope to make pro­gress, and not
by opposing ­these dif­fer­ent approaches.
On the transcontinental scale, for example on the Euro-­A frican
level, the idea of setting up common assemblies may seem naïve and
out of reach. In real­ity, the growing importance of the common stakes
in terms of economic development, migratory flows, and environ-
mental degradation is g­ oing to make this kind of forum increasingly
indispensable. The development of movements like Black Lives ­Matter,
MeToo, and Fridays for F ­ uture also shows that many young p ­ eople
see ­things in a decidedly global and transnational perspective. If, for
example, we set out to evaluate the activities of multinational com-
panies like the Total oil group in Uganda or Congo with regard to issues

28. The Common Reporting Standards proj­ect discussed at the OECD has nu-
merous defects, insofar as not all the assets are covered. The same goes for the registers
of the a­ ctual beneficiaries of enterprises (that is, the true ­owners, beyond the princi­ple
of shell companies) developed in Eu­rope, as was shown by the LuxLeaks inquiry in
2021. Generally, it is crucial that fiscal administrations publish indicators making it
pos­si­ble to verify the extent to which this transmission of information leads to better
taxation of wealthy ­people who have up to now escaped paying taxes. See L. Chancel,
“Mea­sur­ing Pro­g ress ­towards Tax Justice,” September 2019, WID.world.
29. If an enterprise does not provide the information requested, the simplest sanc-
tion is to apply to it the tax scale for the corresponding wealth of an individual owner.
States can also apply an exit tax like the 40 ­p ercent tax proposed in 2020 by Bernie
Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for US taxpayers who ­were seeking to escape their
proj­ect of a federal wealth tax by giving up their nationality and transferring their as-
sets abroad.
224 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

such as working conditions or attacks on biodiversity, then the exis-

tence of transnational parliamentary chambers making it pos­si­ble to
debate openly the most appropriate regulations is not necessarily a
luxury. Similarly, it would make sense to debate in ­these protected
spaces the circulation of ­people and the financing of higher educa-
tion. For example, following a decision the French government made
in 2019, Eu­ro­pean university students ­will continue to pay the same
fees as French students (between 200 and 300 euros), whereas extra-­
European students w ­ ill have to pay between 3,000 and 4,000 euros.
In theory, why students from Mali or Sudan should pay between ten
and twenty times more than students from Luxembourg or Norway
is not at all clear. We can imagine that a public, transnational parlia-
mentary debate might lead to adopting a more balanced solution, for
example, by taxing the parents or taxpayers in Mali and Luxembourg
in proportion to their respective incomes. The impor­tant point is that
fundamental rights like freedom of movement cannot be conceived
in isolation from the systems of public ser­v ices and collective fi-
nancing associated with them.
Let us conclude by noting that the refusal to engage with social and
demo­cratic federalism may help nourish reactionary proj­ects aimed
at compensating, in an authoritarian manner, for the limitations of
the nation-­state. In The Origins of Totalitarianism, Hannah Arendt
as early as 1951 noted that the main weakness of Eu­ro­pean Social-­
Democrats during the interwar period was precisely that they had
not fully taken into account the need for a world-­politics to respond
to the challenges of the world-­economy.30 In a certain way, they w ­ ere
the only ones: both the colonial empires and the Bolshevik and Nazi
po­liti­cal constructions w ­ ere based on postnational state forms that
­were adapted to the dimensions of the world-­economy and to the
internationalization of industrial and financial capitalism. Nature
abhors a vacuum: if no demo­cratic post-­national proj­ect is formulated,
then authoritarian constructions w ­ ill take its place in order to propose
more or less convincing solutions to the feelings of injustice engendered

30. Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 479–485.

 Exiting Neocolonialism 225

by the unrestrained economic and state forces operating on a world-

wide scale.
The most dramatic example of this kind of situation in the recent
past is no doubt the emergence of ISIS in 2014 (and of its multiple re-
surgences in the Sahel and elsewhere). According to the available
data, the ­Middle East is the most inegalitarian region of the world, in
large part ­because its oil resources (which should be left in the ground)
are concentrated in very thinly populated areas, where oligarchies ac-
cumulate unlimited financial reserves on the international markets,
with the active support of the West, which is only too happy to be able
to sell them weapons or recuperate part of the funds in their banking
systems or their sports clubs. During this time, a few hundred kilo­
meters away, a country with 100 million inhabitants like Egypt has
completely inadequate resources to educate its youth and to invest in
its infrastructure.31 In theory, we could imagine a federal and demo­
cratic organ­ization for the region that would make a better distribu-
tion and diversification of wealth and investments, as was envisaged
in the past, and as a renovated form of the Arab League or the Arab
Union might embody in the f­ uture. But if the actors involved close
­these discussions and cling to the economic and territorial status quo,
then they w ­ ill be helping to pave the way for reactionary proj­ects to
redefine colonial borders, such as that of ISIS, which hopes that by
constructing a superior state power, a violently self-­centered identity,
and a totalitarian religious ideology, it w
­ ill be able to respond to what
its supporters see as a feeling of humiliation, like that of the Nazi state
during the interwar period (but, fortunately, with less power and
politico-­military success up to this point). ­Today, as in the past, it is
through proj­ects of equitable development and credible objectives of
social justice with a universal calling that identitarian and totalitarian
excesses can be overcome.

31. F. Alvaredo, L. Assouad, and T. Piketty, “Mea­sur­ing In­equality in the M

­ iddle
East 1990–2016: The World’s Most Unequal Region?” Review of Income and Wealth 65,
no. 4 (2019): 685–711. Compare Piketty, Capital and Ideology, 653–655.
 •
10

­T O WA R D A D E M O ­C R AT I C , E C O L O G I C A L ,

AND MULTICULTURAL SOCIALISM

The b­ attle for equality w

­ ill continue in the twenty-­first ­century, basing
itself chiefly on the memory of past strug­gles. If a historical move-
ment ­toward more social, economic, and po­liti­cal equality has been
pos­si­ble over the last two centuries, that is above all thanks to a series
of revolts, revolutions, and po­liti­cal movements of g­ reat scope. The
same w ­ ill be true in the ­future. In this last chapter, I would like to
discuss certain f­actors that may help drive change in the course of
the coming de­cades, beginning with the environmental catastrophes
that are on our horizon and the competition between statist, ideolog-
ical powers on the global scale. Specifically, I am interested in the
challenges posed by the rise of “Chinese socialism,” a statist, authori-
tarian model that is opposed on e­ very point to the demo­cratic, de-
centralized socialism defended in this book, and that, in my opinion,
is far less emancipatory. However, the Western powers would be wise
to take it seriously. If they persist in defending an obsolete, hypercapi-
talist model, it is not at all certain they w ­ ill succeed. The true alter-
native is demo­cratic socialism, participatory and federalist, ecolog-
ical and multicultural. It is the logical end of a long-­term movement
­toward equality that has been underway since the end of the eigh­
teenth ­century. To ensure that every­one can contribute to it in a de-
centralized way, we must develop new forms of sovereignism with a
universalist vocation.
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 227

Climate Change and the B

­ attle between Ideologies
All the transformations discussed in this book, w ­ hether the develop-
ment of the welfare state, progressive taxation, participatory socialism,
electoral and educational equality, or the exit from neo­co­lo­nial­ism,
­will occur only if they are accompanied by strong mobilizations and
power relationships. Th ­ ere is nothing surprising about that: in the
past, it has always been strug­gles and collective movements that have
made it pos­si­ble to replace the old structures with new institutions.
Nothing prevents us from imagining peaceful developments, sup-
ported by new social and po­liti­cal movements that have succeeded in
mobilizing a large majority of voters and rising to power on the basis
of platforms proposing ambitious transformations. Nevertheless, past
experience suggests that large-­scale historical change often involves
moments of crisis, tensions, and confrontations. Environmental ca-
tastrophes are, of course, among the ­factors that may help accelerate
the pace of change. In theory, we could hope that the mere prospect
of t­ hese catastrophes, whose ­future occurrence scientific research has
increasingly confirmed, might suffice to provoke adequate mobiliza-
tion. Unfortunately, it is pos­si­ble that only tangible, concrete damage
greater than that we have already seen ­w ill manage to break down
conservative attitudes and radically challenge the current economic
system.
At this stage, no one can predict the source from which t­ hese con-
crete manifestations ­w ill arise. We know that in the course of the
twenty-­first ­century the planet is prob­ably heading for a temperature
increase of at least three degrees Celsius compared with pre­industrial
levels, and that only actions much more vigorous than ­those envisaged
up to now might make it pos­si­ble to avoid such a prospect. With tem-
peratures three degrees higher on the planetary scale, the only cer-
tainty is that no model is able to predict the w
­ hole set of chain reactions
that might result, the speed with which coastal cities ­will be engulfed,
or the desertification of entire countries. In view of the other damage
that is already occurring, it is also pos­si­ble that the first signals of
228 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

impending cataclysm might come from other sources, such as the

accelerated collapse of biodiversity, the acidification of the oceans, or
loss of soil fertility.1 In the darkest scenario, the signals w ­ ill come too
late to avoid conflicts between nations over resources, and it ­will take
de­cades to realize pos­si­ble, as yet hy­po­thet­i­cal reconstructions.2 We
can also hope that the next waves of impor­tant signals, such as out-
breaks of fires and natu­ral calamities, w ­ ill suffice to trigger a healthy
public awareness of climate change and legitimize a profound trans-
formation of the economic system, including new forms of intervention
by public authorities, as did the crisis of the 1930s. As soon as enough
­people have seen the dramatic consequences of the pro­cesses occur-
ring in their everyday life, attitudes ­toward ­free trade, for example,
may change radically. We can also foresee hostile reactions ­toward
countries and social groups whose ways of life have contributed most
to the disaster, starting with the richest classes in the United States,
but also in Eu­rope and the rest of the world.3
Recall that the global North, despite a ­limited population (about
15 ­percent of world population for the United States, Canada, Eu­rope,
Rus­sia, and Japan), has produced nearly 80 ­percent of the carbon
emissions that have accumulated since the beginning of the Indus-

1. IPCC, Global Warming of 1.5°C, Special Report, Intergovernmental Panel on

Climate Change, Geneva, 2018; IPBES, “Global Assessment Report on Biodiversity and
Ecosystem Ser­v ices,” Intergovernmental Science-­Policy Platform on Biodiversity and
Ecosystem Ser­vices, Bonn, May 4, 2019; W. Steffen et al., “Planetary Bound­aries: Guiding
­Human Development on a Changing Planet,” Science 347, no. 6223 (2015), 1259855; J.
Hickel, Less Is More: How Degrowth ­Will Save Society (London: William Heinemann,
2020).
2. In Rouge impératrice (Paris: Bernard Grasset, 2019), Léonora Miano imagines that
in 2124 a power­f ul African Federation fi­nally achieves unity and, a­ fter the climatic and
nuclear catastrophes of the twenty-­fi rst ­century, succeeds in transcending the dead ends
of Westerners’ commercial globalization and ends up moving beyond its prejudices and
resentments to offer a helping hand to Eu­ro­pean refugees.
3. See Chapter 1, Figure 3. ­A fter such catastrophes, it is pos­si­ble that p
­ eople w­ ill no
longer smile at all at the whims, private jets, or space tourism of billionaires, who are
always prompt to support the craziest geo-­engineering hypotheses if t­ hese w ­ ill allow
them to avoid ­simple and rebarbative solutions, such as paying taxes and living
modestly.
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 229

trial Age. This is explained by the fact that in Western countries, the
annual emissions per inhabitant reached extremely high levels be-
tween 1950 and 2000: between twenty-­five and thirty tons per person
in the United States, and around fifteen tons in Eu­rope. ­These levels
have now begun to decline: in the early 2020s they neared twenty tons
in the United States and ten tons in Eu­rope. China’s carbon emissions
­were below five tons ­until 2000, yet it emitted between five and ten
tons per person between 2000 and 2020. Considering the trajectory
we have seen up to now, China should succeed in reaching a Western
standard of living without ever passing through a stage of carbon
emissions levels as high as t­ hose in the West.4 This is certainly to be
explained in part by increased awareness of global warming and by
the new technologies available. However, we have to qualify the idea
that a green Enlightenment ­will be likely to save the planet. In real­ity,
­people have suspected for a long time—­indeed, almost since the be-
ginning of the Industrial Revolution—­that this accelerated burning
of fossil fuels might have harmful effects. If reactions have been slow
and remain so ­limited even ­today, that is also and especially ­because
the socioeconomic interests at stake are considerable, between coun-
tries as well as within them.5 For the countries most affected (in par­
tic­u­lar in the global South), the attenuation of the effects of a warming
climate and financing for mea­sures to adapt to it w ­ ill require a trans-
formation of the distribution of wealth and the economic system as
a ­whole, and this in turn w ­ ill involve the development of new po­
liti­cal and social co­ali­tions on a global scale. The idea that ­there might
be only winners is a dangerous and anesthetizing illusion that must
be abandoned immediately.

4. L. Chancel, “Global Carbon In­equality in the Long Run,” March 2021, WID.

world. Compare L. Chancel and T. Piketty, “Carbon and In­equality: From Kyoto to
Paris,” November 2015, WID.world. The figures given h ­ ere reflect both direct and indi-
rect emissions (­a fter correction for imports).
5. C. Bonneuil and J.-­B. Fressoz, L’Événement anthropocène. La Terre, l’histoire et
nous (Paris: Points, 2016); J.-­B. Fressoz and F. Locher, Les Révoltes du ciel. Une histoire
du changement climatique (Paris: Seuil, 2020).
230 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

Chinese Socialism: The Weak Points

of a Perfect Digital Dictatorship
Beyond the environmental issue, rivalries between statist, ideological
powers constitute one of the main ­factors that might accelerate po­
liti­cal change. Among the most crucial questions is the ­future of the
Chinese regime, its strengths and its weaknesses. Barring an unex-
pected collapse, over the coming de­cades the P ­ eople’s Republic of
China is likely to become the greatest economic power on the planet,
even if no one can predict how soon and for how long.6 If we com-
pare the economic structures in force in China and in the West, the
most striking difference is without any doubt the property system, and
in par­tic­u­lar the importance of private property. The share of public
capital (all levels of governments and collectivities taken together) was
about 70 ­percent in China in 1978, at the time when reforms w ­ ere
begun. It declined sharply during the years 1980–1990 and ­u ntil
the m ­ iddle of the 2000s, and has been stable at around 30 ­percent
of the national capital since then (see Figure 39).
It is striking to note that the privatization of property in China
ended around 2005–2006: the balance between public and private
property has hardly budged since that time. Given the very strong
growth of the Chinese economy, capital obviously continues to accu-
mulate in all its forms: new plots of land are being developed, facto-
ries and skyscrapers are being constructed, all at breakneck speed.
Putting it simply, we can say that the capital being developed ­under
public control is progressing at about the same rate as that in private
hands. In this sense, China seems to be stabilizing around a struc-

6. Expressed in terms of parity of purchasing power, China’s GDP became greater

than that of the United States in 2013. However, in terms of annual national income per
adult, China remains at a level only a third of that in the West: about 15,000 euros in
China, as contrasted with almost 40,000 euros in Western Eu­rope and 50,000 euros in
the United States. At the current rate of convergence (5 ­percent per year), the gap could
be filled between now and 2040–2050. China would then have a population and a GDP
half again as large as the cumulative total of that of the United States and Eu­rope.
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 231

80%
Share of public property in total property

70% China United States

United Kingdom France
60% Germany Japan

50%

40%

30%

20%

10%

0%

–10%
1978 1982 1986 1990 1994 1998 2002 2006 2010 2014 2018

figure 39. ​The Declining Share of Public Property, 1978–2020

The share of public property (public assets net of debt including all public collectivi-
ties, businesses, buildings, land, and financial holdings and assets) in total property
(total public and private) was about 70 ­percent in China in 1978, and it has stabilized
at around 30 ­percent since the m­ iddle of the 2000s. It was 15–30 ­percent in cap­i­tal­ist
countries at the end of the 1970s; it was almost nil or negative in 2020. Sources and
series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

ture of property that could be described as a mixed economy: the

country is no longer truly communist, but it is not completely cap­i­
tal­ist, e­ ither, since public property represents a l­ittle more than
30 ­percent of the total: less than half, of course, but nonetheless a very
substantial share. The fact that the Chinese state owns almost a third
of every­thing that can be owned in the country affords it considerable
opportunities for intervening in decisions as to where investments
are to be made and where jobs are to be created, and for pursuing
policies of regional development.
Moreover, it ­will be noted that this average share of about 30 ­percent
of public capital conceals very impor­tant differences, depending on
the categories of the assets involved. On the one hand, residential real
estate has been almost entirely privatized. In the early 2020s, the state
and companies held less than 5 ­percent of the residential housing
stock, which became the private investment par excellence for Chinese
232 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

100%
Share of total capital in Chinese firms

90%
80%
70%
60%
Public (Chinese state)
50%
40% Private (Chinese households)

30% Foreign (rest of world)

20%
10%
0%
1978 1982 1986 1990 1994 1998 2002 2006 2010 2014 2018

figure 40. ​Owner­ship of Chinese Firms, 1978–2020

In 2020, the Chinese state (at all levels of government) held about 55 ­percent of the
total capital of Chinese firms (listed and unlisted companies, all sizes and sectors),
as compared with 33 ­percent for Chinese h ­ ouse­holds and 12 ­percent for foreign in-
vestors. The latter’s share has diminished since 2006 and that of Chinese ­house­holds
has risen, whereas the share held by the Chinese state has stabilized at around
55 ­percent. Sources and series: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

­ ouse­holds that had the means, and this helped make real estate
h
prices skyrocket, especially since opportunities for financial savings
are ­limited and the public retirement system is underfunded. Con-
versely, the government currently holds around 55–60  ­percent of
companies’ total capital (including all enterprises, listed and unlisted,
all sizes and all sectors taken together). This share has remained vir-
tually unchanged since 2005–2006 and testifies to the state’s mainte-
nance of strict control over the productive system, and even an ac-
centuation of control over the largest enterprises. We also see a
significant decline of the share of business capital held by foreign in-
vestors, which is compensated by a rise of the share held by Chinese
h
­ ouse­holds (see Figure 40).
In addition to this mixed-­economy structure and the state’s strong
control over enterprises, the other major characteristic of “socialism
with Chinese characteristics,” as the Beijing regime likes to style it-
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 233

self, is obviously the dominant role played by the Chinese Commu-

nist Party. In 2020, the CCP had more than 90 million members, or
about 10 ­percent of the country’s adult population. In the opinion of
the regime, whose official positions are expressed daily in the Global
Times, Chinese-­style democracy is superior to the Western-­style elec-
toral supermarket b ­ ecause it entrusts the country’s destinies to a
motivated and determined avant-­garde, both selected and represen-
tative of the society, and ultimately more profoundly involved in
serving the common interest than is the average Western voter, who
is fickle and subject to influence.7 In practice, however, the regime
increasingly resembles a perfect digital dictatorship—so perfect that
no one wants to be like it. The model of deliberation within the Party
is all the less convincing insofar as it leaves no trace of anything out-
side it, whereas conversely, every­one can see with increasing clarity
the establishment of a generalized surveillance of the population on
social networks, the repression of dissidents and minorities, the bru-
tality of the electoral pro­cess in Hong Kong, and the threats made
against the electoral system in Taiwan. The ability of such a regime
to seduce public opinion in other countries (and not only their leaders)
seems ­limited. We must add the sharp rise in inequalities, along with
the extreme opacity that characterizes the distribution of wealth and
the feeling of social injustice that flows from it, a feeling that cannot
be appeased forever by dismissing a few ­people or putting them in
prison.8 The anticipated demographic decline and accelerated aging
of the population are also g­ oing to constitute major challenges for the

7. The editor-­in-­chief of the Global Times, Hu Xijin, was a young student at the time
of the Tian­a nmen Square incident in 1989, likes to remind ­people that it was the sepa-
ratist wars in Yugo­slavia that demonstrated for him the pacifying role of the Party and
of the deliberations within it, along with the impossibility of leaving to electoral pas-
sions the task of making decisions as delicate as t­ hose regarding the border system or
the property system. See the interview with Hu Xijin, Le Monde, October 15, 2017.
8. On the evolution of inequalities and Chinese data’s lack of transparency, see T.
Piketty, L. Yang, and G. Zucman, “Capital Accumulation, Private Property, and Rising
In­equality in China, 1978–2015,” American Economic Review 109, no. 7 (2019):
2469–2496.
234 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

regime, and in the course of the second half of the twenty-­first ­century
they may lead to the replacement of China by India as the world’s pri-
mary economic power.9
Despite ­these weaknesses, Chinese socialism nonetheless has many
advantages. If the Western powers persist in an outdated hypercapi-
talist ideology, it is not at all certain that they ­will succeed in limiting
the growing influence of the Chinese regime. In the economic and fi-
nancial domain, the Chinese state has considerable assets that far
outweigh its debts, and this gives it the means to pursue ambitious
policies, both domestically and internationally, particularly con-
cerning investments in infrastructure and in the transition to new
forms of energy. In contrast, it is striking to note to what point the
main Western states all find themselves, in the early 2020s, in a posi-
tion in which the share of public property is almost nil or even nega-
tive (see Figure 39). Having failed to balance their public accounts
(which would have required them to raise tax rates for the wealthiest
taxpayers), t­ hese countries have accumulated public debts, while at
the same time selling off an increasing share of their public assets, so
that the former have ended up slightly exceeding the latter. Let us be
perfectly clear: the rich countries are rich, in the sense that private
wealth has never been so ­great; it is only their governments that are
poor. If they continue down that path, they may find themselves with
increasingly negative assets, which would lead to a situation in which
the holders of debt securities would possess not only the equivalent
of all the public assets (buildings, schools, hospitals, infrastructures,
­etc.), but also a special drawing right on part of the taxes of f­uture

9. India w
­ ill prob­ably see its population overtake that of China in 2028. If the
country manages to surmount its very burdensome legacy of in­equality and invests
more in education, health care, and infrastructure, while at the same time escaping the
identitarian and authoritarian excesses of the Hindu nationalists presently in power—­
which is far from sure—it has parliamentary, federal, and electoral institutions and a
system of a f­ ree press that provide it with po­liti­cal foundations more robust than ­t hose
of China (and far more exportable and attractive for other countries).
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 235

taxpayers.10 And yet it would be completely pos­si­ble to reduce this

public debt rapidly, as ­these same countries did ­a fter World War
II—­for example, by taxing the largest private fortunes and thus giving
the government some room to maneuver.11 That involves becoming
aware of the multiplicity of pos­si­ble choices and the po­liti­cal and so-
cial mobilizations in support of them, an awareness that may, unfor-
tunately, require a few more crises, given the ambient conservatism.
The Chinese regime has other strong points. When climatic catas-
trophes occur, it ­will have no difficulty blaming the West. More gen-
erally, China does not hesitate to remind us that it industrialized
without resorting to slavery and colonialism, of which it was itself a
victim. This allows China to rack up points against what is perceived
by the world as the eternal arrogance of Western countries, which are
always quick to lecture the ­whole Earth concerning justice and de-
mocracy, but prove incapable of dealing with the inequalities and dis-
crimination that undermine them, even though they manage to
come to terms with all the potentates and oligarchs from whom they
benefit. On t­ hese subjects, the right response to China’s statist, author-
itarian socialism would be to promote a form of demo­cratic, partici-
patory socialism that is ecological and postcolonial, one which fi­nally

10. For a recent example of this development, which is still ongoing, we can cite the
proj­ect to privatize the ADP (Paris Airports) group that was ­adopted in 2019 by the French
government. It expects this sale to bring in 8 billion euros—­a fter having deprived itself
of 5 billion per year in tax receipts by ­doing away with the wealth tax and progressive
taxation on income from capital. It would have been simpler to transfer the property
titles directly to the persons benefiting from tax decreases.
11. See Chapter 5. The value of the public assets registered in the national accounts
generally amounts to between 100 and 150 ­percent of the national income, so that net
public property becomes negative when the debt exceeds this level. It w ­ ill be noted that
the Western countries themselves had mixed economies during the period 1950–1980:
public debt had been reduced to a minimum and public assets w ­ ere large, so that the net
public property represented a substantial portion (typically 20–30 ­percent) of the national
capital. I cannot ­s ettle ­here the complex question of the ideal level, which depends in
par­t ic­u ­lar on the type of demo­cratic governance developed in the public sector; let us
simply say that it seems far better that the net public property’s share in the national capital
be positive but less than half, rather than that it be zero or negative.
236 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

pays attention to the global South and to all the West’s inequalities
and hypocrisies. Such an evolution would also make it pos­si­ble to re-
spond to the fact that neoliberalism is r­ unning out of steam, a de-
cline that was accelerated by the financial crisis of 2008 and by the
pandemic of 2020, and which can be explained more generally by the
failure of Reaganism’s promises to spur growth through deregulation,
to the point that the m­ iddle and lower classes, who had been prom-
ised the moon, have begun to have serious doubts about globaliza-
tion.12 At first, we can certainly fear that neoliberalism might be re-
placed by vari­ ous forms of the neonationalism incarnated by
Trumpism, Brexit, and the rise of Turkish, Brazilian, and Indian na-
tionalism, which are dif­fer­ent po­liti­cal movements but all blame for-
eigners and diverse internal minorities for national misfortunes.13
The failure of Trumpism nonetheless shows the limits of this po­liti­cal
trend, which may lead to a headlong rush t­ oward exacerbated identi-
tarian conflicts and a new wave of fiscal-­social dumping that ­favors
the richest and the most polluting.14 All this is hardly likely to re-

12. The term “neoliberalism” refers to the new form of economic liberalism in vogue
all over the planet since the 1980s, as opposed to the classical economic liberalism that
existed in the nineteenth ­century and ­u ntil 1914. This idea may be useful, but on the
condition that we not lose sight of the fact that this neoliberalism found a place in typ-
ical socie­t ies in the North characterized by a power­f ul welfare state without much rela-
tion to ­t hose before 1914, and in post-­independence movement socie­t ies marked by neo­
co­lo­nial­ism in the South, in forms very dif­fer­ent from ­t hose taken by colonialism before
1960 or before 1914. The term was introduced at a colloquium that met in Paris in 1938
and that brought together a group of liberal intellectuals (including the journalist
Walter Lipp­mann and the economists Friedrich Hayek, Ludwig von Mises, and Wil-
helm Röpke) to describe the collapse of pre-1914 liberalism and to reflect on f­ uture re-
constructions. See S. Audier, Le Colloque Lipp­mann. Aux origines du “néo-­libéralisme”
(Lormont: Bord de l’eau, 2008); S. Audier, Néo-­libéralisme(s). Une archéologie intellectu-
elle (Paris: Grasset, 2012).
13. On the structural instability of the tripartition liberalism-­nationalism-­socialism
in the political-­ideological sphere, see B. Karsenti and C. Lemieux, Socialisme et soci-
ologie (Paris: Editions de l’EHESS, 2017). In short, liberalism is based on the market and
on the social disembedding of the economy, nationalism replies by reifying the nation
and ethno-­national solidarities, whereas socialism promotes universalist emancipation
through education, knowledge, and power-­sharing.
14. On the way in which Brexit was financed in 2016 by hedge funds and financial
lobbies demanding a new wave of deregulation and no longer limiting themselves to the
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 237

solve the challenges of the moment and seems everywhere to be likely

to reinforce Chinese statist and authoritarian socialism, which also
feeds on nationalism, but is based on a public authority that can give
it the means to realize its ambitions, at least for a time.

From the War between Capitalisms to the ­

Battle between Socialisms
For ­these dif­fer­ent reasons, it is very pos­si­ble that ­future ideological
confrontations w ­ ill be more similar to ­battles between forms of
socialism than to the war between forms of capitalism that p ­ eople
often talk about. More generally, we must insist above all on the
very ­g reat diversity of economic models observed around the world
and throughout history, including systems that claim to adhere to
capitalism or to socialism.
In this book, I have defended the possibility of a demo­cratic and
federal socialism, decentralized and participatory, ecological and
multicultural, based on the extension of the welfare state and pro-
gressive taxation, power-­sharing in business enterprises, postcolonial
reparations, the b ­ attle against discrimination, educational equality,
the carbon card, the gradual decommodification of the economy,
guaranteed employment and an inheritance for all, the drastic reduc-
tion of monetary inequalities, and fi­nally, an electoral and media
system that cannot be controlled by money. Th ­ ese are only a few of the
options: above all, I have sought to show the diversity of pos­si­ble sys-
tems, and the way in which mobilizations around alternative systems
have made a power­ful contribution to shaping historical trajectories
in the past. The debates on alternative systems and the multiple forms
of socialism, which had died out for a time in the 1990s following the
collapse of Soviet communism, have been revived since the crisis of
2008, and as the inegalitarian and climatic dead ends of the current

deregulation carried out by the Eu­ro­pean Union in the 1980s and 1990s, see M. Benquet
and H. Bergeron, La Finance autoritaire. Vers la fin du néolibéralisme (Paris: Raisons
d’agir, 2021).
238 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

system ­were gradually recognized. ­These debates and ­these strug­gles

are not about to stop.
I would also like to repeat that demo­cratic socialism, though it may
seem very distant from the pre­sent world, is in real­ity embedded in a
stream of considerable transformations achieved in the past, some-
times within a few de­cades. Except for a few formal similarities, the
social, ­legal, fiscal, educational, electoral, and international institu-
tions characterizing the authoritarian and colonial capitalism of
1910 and the mixed social-­democratic economy of 1980 have l­ittle
in common. If the demo­cratic, participatory socialism described
­here ­were to be realized between now and 2050, it would be in di-
rect continuity with this movement, and would prob­ably not be any
more dif­fer­ent from the second model than the latter is from the first
one. This reflection on economic systems is also indispensable for nour-
ishing the dialogue between models. If Western countries, or some
of them, w­ ere to abandon their habitual cap­i­tal­ist and nationalist pos-
tures and adopt a discourse founded on demo­cratic socialism and an
exit from neo­co­lo­nial­ism, with major steps ­toward fiscal justice and
sharing the tax receipts of the multinationals and billionaires all over
the world, that would make it pos­si­ble not only to regain credibility
with regard to the global South, but also to drive Chinese authoritarian
socialism into a corner in ­matters of transparency and democracy.
On central questions such as ecol­ogy, patriarchy, and xenophobia,
the truth is that at this point none of the pre­sent regimes has any par-
ticularly convincing lesson to teach ­others. Only a dialogue between
systems and a healthy emulation might allow us to hope for some
pro­gress.

­Will Money Creation Save Us?

No m­ atter which economic model we adopt, we must fi­nally insist on
the essential role that ­will be played by the monetary and financial
system in the coming de­cades. The central banks and monetary policy
have assumed a decisive importance following the financial crisis of
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 239

70%
Total central bank assets as % of GDP
65%
60% Average of 17 rich countries
55% Euro zone, 1999–2020
50% (avg. Germany-France, 1900–1998)
45% US Federal Reserve
40%
35%
30%
25%
20%
15%
10%
5%
0%
1900 1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 2020

figure 41. ​The Size of Central Banks’ Balance Sheets, 1900–2020

The total assets held by the Eu­ro­pean Central Bank (ECB) r­ ose from 11 ­percent of
eurozone GDP on the last day of 2004 to 61  ­percent on the last day of 2020. The
curve for 1900–1998 indicates the average of the balance sheets for the German and
French central banks (with peaks of 39 ­percent in 1918 and 62 ­percent in 1944). The
total assets of the Federal Reserve (created in 1913) ­rose from 6 ­percent of US GDP at
the end of 2007 to 36 ­percent at the end of 2020.
Note: The average for rich countries includes Australia, Belgium, Canada, Den-
mark, Finland, France, Germany, Holland, Italy, Japan, Norway, Portugal, Spain,
Sweden, Switzerland, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Sources and se-
ries: piketty.pse.ens.fr/equality

2008 and the pandemic crisis of 2020–2021. Specifically, the balance

sheet of the world’s main banks, that is, the ­whole of the loans they
have granted and the securities they hold, has regained in a l­ ittle more
than ten years a level seen during the historic postwar peak (see
Figure  41). In theory, nothing forbids us to go further.15 ­Today, no
currency is defined in relationship to gold or to a material referent:
currency is above all an electronic sign on computers, which the cen-
tral banks can create without limits. ­There are even plans to set up
central bank digital currencies in the near ­future. Individuals would

15. Even before the pandemic of 2020, the balance sheets of the central banks of
Switzerland and Japan exceeded 100 ­percent of the GDP. See T. Piketty, Capital and Ide-
ology (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2020), 696–705.
240 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

have digital accounts at their country’s central bank, which would

permit banks to directly credit individuals’ accounts, rather than
routing through private banks and enterprises, as is now usually
the case.16
The spectacular increase in monetary creation since 2008 illus-
trates once again to what point economic institutions are not un-
changing. They are constantly redefined according to crises and power
relationships, within unstable and precarious compromises. This
new ease in increasing the money supply has nonetheless led to a
confusion that it is impor­tant to clarify h ­ ere. In short, money is an
indispensable tool of economic, social, and climate policy, on the
condition, however, that it is not made sacred and is put back in its
place in a coherent institutional framework based especially on the
welfare state, progressive taxation, parliamentary deliberation, and
demo­cratic supervision.
Let us recall first of all that the only true limit to monetary policy
is inflation. So long as t­ here is no substantial increase in consumer
prices, t­ here is no solid reason not to increase the money supply if it
enables us to finance useful policies such as the strug­gle for full em-
ployment, a guaranteed job, the thermal insulation of buildings, or
public investments in health care, education, and renewable energy.
Inversely, if inflation flares up in the long term, then that means that
the limits of monetary creation have been reached and that it is time
to rely on other tools to mobilize resources (beginning with taxes).17

16. In addition to facilitating monetary policy, central bank digital currency could
embody a genuinely public banking ser­v ice, ­f ree and accessible to every­one—­t he exact
opposite of the systems of electronic currency dreamed of by private operators (­whether
they are decentralized and polluting, like Bitcoin, or centralized and inegalitarian, like
proj­ects envisioned by Meta [formerly Facebook] and private banks).
17. The defenders of monetary creation in the ser­v ice of guaranteed employment
and the Green New Deal, like S. Kelton and P. Tcherneva, are very clear on this point.
See S. Kelton, The Deficit Myth: Modern Monetary Theory and the Birth of the P ­ eople’s
Economy (New York: PublicAffairs, 2020). Compare L. Randall Wray et al., “Public Ser­
vice Employment: A Path to Full Employment,” Research Proj­ect Report, Levy Eco-
nomics Institute of Bard College, April 2018.
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 241

We must also emphasize the fact that in the event of a rapid collapse
of the economy connected with a financial crisis, a pandemic, or a
natu­ral or climate catastrophe, the central banks are the only public
institutions capable of reacting fast enough to avoid a spate of bank-
ruptcies or an explosion of poverty. Fortunately, this role as lender of
last resort, which had been rejected in the name of financial ortho-
doxy during the crisis of 1929 and led the world to the edge of the
abyss, is now the object of a positive consensus, which shows that
we can learn from history. The prob­lem is that the monetary policies
put in place in 2008 and 2020 continue to be inserted into a relatively
conservative schema. In conclusion, the monetary weapon has been
used frequently to save banks and bankers, but ­there is much more
hesitation when it is a question of saving the planet, reducing inequal-
ities, or relieving the public authority of the considerable debts ac-
cumulated as a result of crises and diverse bailouts and plans to jump-­
start the private sector.
Regarding public debts, the balance in force in the early 2020s is
relatively precarious. The central banks have bought back an ever-­
larger share of state loans, at an interest rate that is almost zero. If the
rates start to climb again, or rather when they begin to climb again,
the interest burden ­will be unbearable for citizen taxpayers, and it ­will
be necessary to implement other solutions, like the exceptional levies
on private wealth that w­ ere applied a­ fter World War II. Moreover, cur-
rent monetary policy poses other prob­lems. For small savers, zero or
negative interest rates are not necessarily good news. On the other
hand, for t­ hose who have the means to borrow at low interest rates
and to find good investments, it is pos­si­ble to obtain excellent yields.
In all, monetary creation and the purchase of financial securities have
helped boost prices on the stock and real estate markets, and to fur-
ther enrich the rich. We must add that zero interest rates constitute
in large mea­sure a new privilege for rich countries. Investors every-
where are prepared to be content with a small reward for investing
their capital in safe currencies and in the debt securities of the prin-
cipal Western countries (if they are not partly forced to do so by the
242 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

new banking regulations), but inversely they demand high interest

rates when it is a question of lending to southern countries. Rather
than marveling at this miracle of zero interest rates, the rich coun-
tries would be wise to take a look into international financial coop-
eration, which might allow all countries to finance themselves at low
rates in a time of crisis.
Generally speaking, the emergence of a new monetary tool recog-
nized as such is a power­ful ­factor for change: it makes it very difficult
to explain to the public at large that a return to economic and finan-
cial orthodoxy is the only pos­si­ble option. This tool, however, must
be placed u ­ nder demo­cratic supervision. A consensus is now emerging
regarding the central banks’ obligation to make their balance sheets
greener, indeed, to lead the movement ­toward durable and equitable
development. This is excellent news in itself, except that this new mis-
sion w ­ ill require vast demo­cratic deliberations, in parliamentary
precincts and in public forums, on the basis of detailed assessments,
pro and con, that w ­ ill allow us to judge the effects of the dif­fer­ent pos­
si­ble monetary policies on multiple social and environmental indica-
tors. However, the current model of the central banks is absolutely not
that one: a­ fter being appointed by governments and promptly con-
firmed by parliaments, their leaders limit themselves to meeting
­behind closed doors and deciding among themselves the best way to
use im­mense amounts of public resources.18 Among the many highly
po­liti­cal decisions that w­ ill have to be made, we can also mention the
question of w ­ hether to postpone the repayment of certain long-­term
debts.19 You can bet that many b ­ attles ­will have to be fought before the

18. See E. Monnet, La Banque Providence. Démocratiser les banques centrales et la

création monétaire (Paris: Seuil, 2021), which proposes in par­t ic­u ­lar to create a Eu­ro­
pean Credit Council attached to the Eu­ro­pean Parliament. N. Dufrêne and A. Grand-
jean, La Monnaie écologique (Paris: Odile Jacob, 2020).
19. The public debts on the Eu­ro­pean Central Bank’s balance sheet, for example.
might be postponed by forty or fifty years without interest, or depending on the real-
ization of climatic objectives. For public debts, as for the sums that might be credited
to the accounts of private individuals, they might also be recorded on the ECB’s bal-
ance sheet as a perpetual no-­i nterest debt, which would be tantamount to canceling
 Toward a Democratic, Ecological, and Multicultural Socialism 243

central banks become a genuinely demo­cratic tool in the ser­v ice

of equality.

For a Universalist Sovereignism

It is time to close our inquiry. The march ­toward equality is a ­battle
whose outcome is uncertain, and not a road laid out in advance. Since
the end of the eigh­teenth c­ entury, equality has made its way by over-
turning the rules established by the regimes in power. The same w ­ ill
be true in the ­future. It would be an illusion to imagine that decisive
transformations could take place if we adopt the una­nim­i­t y of the
countries or the social groups concerned as an untouchable princi­ple.
Each po­liti­cal community must be able to set the conditions for the
pursuit of trade with the rest of the world, without waiting u ­ ntil it has
reached agreement with all its partners. That is always how it has been
in history: each government must, if it deems it useful, f­ ree itself from
its pre­de­ces­sors’ commitments, especially if t­ hese commitments put
social harmony and the survival of the planet in danger. However, it
is essential that this form of sovereignism be defined on the basis of
universalist and internationalist objectives, that is, by making explicit
the criteria of social, fiscal, and environmental justice that can be ap-
plied to all countries in the same way.
It would be absurd to claim that such a path is easy to follow and
clearly marked out: nearly every­thing remains to be in­ven­ted. In prac-
tice, this universalist sovereignism ­will not always be easy to distin-
guish from nationalist sovereignism, which is founded on the defense
of a par­tic­u­lar civilizational identity and interests that are supposed
to be homogeneous within it. In order to clearly distinguish the two
approaches, we have to adhere to several strict princi­ples. Before commit-
ting to unilateral mea­sures, it is critical to propose to other countries

them. In any case, it would be better to make t­ hese decisions when interest rates are
zero, b
­ ecause conflicts between countries w
­ ill break out again if rates rise in a disor­ga­
nized way.
244 A BRIEF HISTORY OF EQUALITY

a model of cooperative development based on universal values and

on objective, verifiable social and environmental indicators that
make it pos­si­ble to publicly state the extent to which dif­fer­ent classes
of income and wealth contribute to public and climatic burdens. We
must also describe precisely the transnational assemblies that would
ideally be entrusted with global public goods and common policies
of fiscal and environmental justice. If t­ hese social-­federalist proposals
are not immediately a­ dopted, the unilateral approach must still remain
incentivizing and reversible.20 Fi­nally, the sovereignist-­universalist
path loses all credibility if it is not based on a constant search for
credible international co­ali­tions capable of accelerating the transition
­toward socialist, demo­cratic federalism, which should remain the
ultimate objective.
This kind of universalist sovereignism ­will also require active citi-
zens. The social sciences can contribute to this, but it goes without
saying that they w­ ill not suffice. Only power­ful social mobilizations,
supported by collective movements and organ­izations, ­will allow us
to define common objectives and transform power relationships. By
what we ask of our friends, our networks, our elected officials, our pre-
ferred media, our l­ abor u
­ nion representatives, and by our own actions
and participation in collective deliberation and social movements,
each of us can make socioeconomic phenomena more comprehen-
sible and help grasp the changes that are occurring. Economic ques-
tions are too impor­tant to be left to ­others. Citizens’ reappropriation
of this knowledge is an essential stage in the ­battle for equality. If
this book has given readers new weapons for this b ­ attle, my goal w
­ ill
have been fully realized.

20. For example, if a sovereignist-­internationalist state imposes sanctions on a

country that practices fiscal or climatic dumping, the latter activities must stop as soon
as the country in question decides to tax the profits of multinationals or carbon emis-
sions at the desired level. From this point of view, sectorial mea­sures a­ dopted without a
universal basis must be forbidden, b ­ ecause they can easily trigger an escalation of sanc-
tions without any constructive and objectifiable outcome.
 C O N T E N T S I N D E TA I L

L I S T O F T­ A B L E S A N D I L L U S T R A T I O N S

INDEX
 Contents in Detail

Acknowl­edgments vii
Introduction 1

A New Economic and Social History 2

The Revolts against Injustice and Learning about
Equitable Institutions 9
Power Relationships and Their Limits 13

1 The Movement ­toward Equality:

The First Milestones 16
­ uman Pro­gress: Education and Health Care for All
H 16
World Population and Average Income:
The Limits of Growth 18
The Choice of Socioeconomic Indicators:
A Po­liti­cal Question 21
For a Plurality of Social and Environmental Indicators 23
No Sustainable Development without a Mea­sure of
In­equality 26

2 The Slow Deconcentration of Power and Property 30

The Evolution of the Concentration of Property since
the Eigh­teenth ­Century 30
Property and Power: A Bundle of Rights 33
Owning the Means of Production, Housing, the State,
and the Rest of the World 36
248 Contents in Detail

The Difficult Emergence of a Patrimonial ­Middle Class 41

The Long March ­toward a Greater Equality of Income 45

3 The Heritage of Slavery and Colonialism 48

The Industrial Revolution, Colonialism, and Ecol­ogy 48
At the Origins of the ­Great Divergence:
Eu­ro­pean Military Domination 52
The Cotton Empire: Taking Control of the Global
Textile Industry 55
Protectionism, Center-­Periphery Relations,
and World-­Systems 59
Provincializing Eu­rope and Rethinking the
West’s Specificity 62
The Role of Economic and Social History in the
Construction of the State 66

4 The Question of Reparations 68

The End of Slavery: Financial Compensation
for Slaveholders 68
Should the French State Reimburse the Debt Paid
by Haiti? 72
The British and French Approaches: 1833 and 1848 75
The United States: The Long March of a
Slaveholding Republic 80
Postslavery Colonialism and the Question of
Forced ­Labor 82
France, A Colonial Republic That ­Doesn’t
Know It Is One 89
The Question of Reparations: Rethinking Justice on a
Transnational Scale 93

5 Revolution, Status, and Class 95

The End of Privileges and Unequal Status? 95
The Long Exit of Forced and Semiforced ­Labor 99
Sweden in 1900: One Man, a Hundred Votes 103
 Contents in Detail 249

The Metamorphoses of Privileges: Democracy

and Money 108
The Per­sis­tence of Censitary Voting:
Economic Plutocracy 113
Participatory Socialism and Power Sharing 116

6 The “­Great Re­distribution”: 1914–1980 121

The Invention of the Welfare State: Education,
Health Care, and Social Security 122
The Fiscal State’s Second Leap Forward:
An Anthropological Revolution 126
The Invention of the Progressive Tax on Income
and Inheritance 129
Real Progressivity and the Social Contract:
The Question of Consent to Taxation 134
Progressive Taxation, a Tool for Reducing
Inequalities before Taxes 137
The Liquidation of Colonial Assets and Public Debts 140
The Reconstruction of Eu­rope through the
Cancellation of Public Debts 146

7 Democracy, Socialism, and Progressive Taxation 150

The Limits of Equality: The Hyperconcentration
of Property 150
The Welfare State and Progressive Taxation:
A Systemic Transformation of Capitalism 155
Property and Socialism: The Question
of Decentralization 159
For a Demo­cratic, Self-­Managing, and
Decentralized Socialism 166
The ­Free Circulation of Capital: The New Censitary Power 170

8 Real Equality against Discrimination 175

Educational Equality: Always Proclaimed, Never Realized 176
For an Affirmative Action Based on Social Criteria 180
250 Contents in Detail

On the Per­sis­tence of the Patriarchy and Productivism 184

Fighting Discrimination without Rigidifying Identities 189
Reconciling Social Parity and the Re­distribution
of Wealth 193
Mea­sur­ing Racism: The Question of Ethno-­racial
Categories 196
Religious Neutrality and the Hypocrisies of
French-­Style Secularism 200

9 Exiting Neo­co­lo­nial­ism 203

The Trente Glorieuses and the Global South:
The Limits of the National Welfare State 203
Neo­co­lo­nial­ism, Commercial Liberalization,
and Tax Havens 207
The Pretenses of International Aid and Climate Policies 211
Rights for Poor Countries: Moving Away from the
Center-­Periphery Logic 214
From the National-­Social State to the
Federal-­Social State 218
For a Social and Demo­cratic Federalism 222

10 ­Toward a Demo­cratic, Ecological, and

Multicultural Socialism 226
Climate Change and the ­Battle between Ideologies 227
Chinese Socialism: The Weak Points of a Perfect
Digital Dictatorship 230
From the War between Capitalisms to the
­Battle between Socialisms 237
­Will Money Creation Save Us? 238
For a Universalist Sovereignism 243

Contents in Detail 247

List of ­Tables and Illustrations 251
Index 255
 ­Tables and Illustrations

­t ables
1. Progressive Tax Proposals in Eighteenth-­Century France 130
2. Circulation of Property and Progressive Taxation 161
3. A New Organ­ization of Globalization:
Transnational Democracy 220

illustrations
1. Health Care and Education in the World, 1820–2020 17
2. Population and Average Income in the World, 1700–2020 19
3. Worldwide Distribution of Carbon Emissions, 2010–2018 25
4. A ­Limited, Impeded March ­toward Equality:
The Concentration of Property in France, 1780–2020 31
5. The Composition of Property in France, 2020 38
6. The Distribution of Property in France, 1780–2020:
The Difficult Emergence of a Patrimonial ­Middle Class 42
7. The Distribution of Income in France, 1800–2020:
The Beginning of a Long-­Term Movement ­toward Equality? 46
8. At the Origins of the ­Great Divergence: The Rise of
Eu­ro­pean States’ Fiscal and Military Capabilities, 1500–1850 54
9. The Rise and Fall of Euro-­American Slavery, 1700–1890 57
10. Atlantic Slaveholding Socie­ties, Eigh­teenth and
Nineteenth Centuries 70
11. A Slaveholding Island in Expansion: Saint-­Domingue,
1700–1790 71
252 Tables and Illustrations

12. Extreme In­equality of Income in Historical Perspective:

The Peak of Colonial and Slaveholding Societies 83
13. The Distribution of Income in Metropolitan France and
in Its Colonies 85
14. Colonies for Colonists: The In­equality of Educational
Investment in Historical Perspective 92
15. The Nobility in Pa­ri­sian Inheritances, 1780–1910 97
16. The Evolution of Male Suffrage in Eu­rope, 1820 to 1920 104
17. Extreme Patrimonial In­equality: Eu­ro­pean
Property-­Owner Socie­ties in the Belle Époque (1880–1914) 107
18. Participatory Socialism and Power Sharing 118
19. The Rise of the Welfare State in Eu­rope, 1870–2020 123
20. The Invention of Progressive Taxation: Top Income
Tax Rates, 1900–2020 131
21. The Invention of Progressive Taxation: Top Inheritance
Tax Rates, 1900–2020 132
22. Effective Tax Rates and Progressivity in the United States,
1910–2020 136
23. Growth and Progressive Taxation in the United States,
1870–2020 140
24. Private Property in Eu­rope, 1870–2020 141
25. Foreign Assets in Historical Perspective:
The Franco-­British Colonial Apex 143
26. Fluctuations in Public Debt, 1850–2020 148
27. The Per­sis­tence of the Hyperconcentration of Property 151
28. Property in Eu­rope and the United States, 1900–2020:
The Birth and Fragility of a Patrimonial M ­ iddle Class 153
29. Income In­equality: Eu­rope and the United States, 1900–2020 154
30. Re­distribution of Inheritance 160
31. Parental Income and Access to Higher Education,
United States, 2018 177
32. The In­equality of Investment in Education in France 179
33. The Per­sis­tence of the Patriarchy in France in the
Twenty-­First C­ entury 186
 Tables and Illustrations 253

34. Affirmative Action in India, 1950–2020 191

35. Discrimination and In­equality in Comparative Perspective 192
36. Differences in Income between Countries, 1820–2020:
The Long Exit from Colonialism 204
37. State Building and Trade Liberalization, 1970–2020 210
38. Economic Flows In and Out of Eastern Eu­rope, 2010–2018 213
39. The Declining Share of Public Property, 1978–2020 231
40. Owner­ship of Chinese Firms, 1978–2020 232
41. The Size of Central Banks’ Balance Sheets, 1900–2020 239
 Index

Note: Figures and t­ ables are identified by f or t following the page number.

Abbey of St. Claude, 100, 103 Banque Générale, 62

Accountable Capitalism Act (2018, Barbados, 10, 69, 70f, 206
US), 119n33 Barreyre, Nicolas, 9
ADP group, 235n10 basic income, 158–159, 160, 162, 164
affirmative action: identity concerns Baudelot, Christian, 6
and, 189–193, 191f; regarding Beckert, Sven, 3, 56
disability-­based, 187n10; regarding Belgian Congo, 87
ethno-­racial category, 190–193, Bengtsson, Erik, 9
191f, 195–196; regarding gender, Benhenda, Asma, 9, 183
186–188, 190; regarding socio- Benin, 206
economic level, 180–184, 190–196, 191f Benquet, Marlène, 9
Algeria: colonialism and education in, BEPS proj­ect, 215–216n19
90, 91, 92, 92f; income in­equality Bessière, Céline, 9
in, 83f, 84, 85f; secession threats Bhattacharya, Tithi, 9
in, 80 Biden, Joseph R., Jr., and adminis-
Alvaredo, Facundo, 7 tration, 173, 174n27
Annales school, 5 biodiversity, 24, 26, 219, 228
Arendt, Hannah, 224 Black Act (1723, United Kingdom), 101
art and precious objects, property Black Lives ­Matter, 11, 79, 223
owner­ship of, 36n6 Blaufarb, Rafe, 9
Atkinson, Tony, 6, 7 Bloch, Marc, 5
Austria, 53, 114 Bonaparte, Napoleon, 72
Austria-­Hungary, 99n4 Bouvier, Jean, 5
256 Index

Braudel, Fernand, 3, 55n6 24–26, 25f, 29, 228–229; social and

Brazil: campaign financing in, 109; environmental costs of, 23–24;
income in­equality in, 83f; ITO targets for, 26, 219; taxes on, 11, 160
proj­ect supported by, 207; nation- cash or liquid assets, property
alism in, 236; slavery in, 56, 57f, owner­ship of, 38, 38f
69, 70f; suffrage in, 184 Catholic Church, 64, 98, 112n22
British East India Com­pany, 60 censitary power, 170–174, 218. See also
British Guiana, 76 power: property and
Burkina Faso, 206 censitary suffrage, 100, 104n12,
105–106, 109, 113–116, 134
Cagé, Julia, 9, 109n16, 117n31, 194n20, center-­periphery relations, 59, 62,
208–209n8 212, 214–218
Cameron, David, 77 Central African Republic, 209
Cameroon, 88, 145 central banks, 238–243, 239f
campaign financing, 40, 108–109, Chad, 88, 209
110, 167 Chancel, Lucas, 7
Canada, 25f, 228 Charles X, 72
capital: f­ ree circulation of, 170–174, Chile, 128n9
203, 207, 210, 218; income from, China: carbon emissions in, 25f, 229;
45–46; international aid and flow communism in, 15, 233; defores-
of, 211–214, 213f; public, in China, tation in, 50; economic power of,
230–232, 231f, 232f, 234–235 234; foreign and colonial assets
capitalism: colonialism and, 48–51, of, 143f; foreign owner­ship of
55–56n6, 58, 62, 63–64, 66; eco- assets in, 142, 232, 232f; ­g reat
nomic plutocracy and, 113–116; divergence between Eu­rope and,
history of, 62n14; hypercapitalism, 3, 49–67, 54f; “­great re­distribution”
14–15, 226, 234; industrial, colonial in, 121; income in­e quality in,
heritage of, 48–51, 55–56n6; pro- 218n22; manufactured products
gressive taxes and, 150, 155–159; from, 57, 59, 60; military and fi-
property owner­ship ­under, 36; nancial capacity in, 52–55, 63–64;
research on, 2–3; welfare state and, national income in, 205, 230n6;
128, 150, 155–159. See also industrial opium wars in, 60–61; property
revolutions owner­ship and public assets in,
capital punishment, 101 230–232, 231f, 232f, 234–235; pro-
carbon emissions: carbon credit card tectionism by, 59; public debt of,
tracking, 164n10; distribution of, 61, 234–235; purchasing power of,
 Index 257

230n6; socialism in, 226, 230–237, industrial capitalism and, 48–51,

238. See also Hong Kong; Taiwan 55–56n6; liquidation of assets from,
Chinese Communist Party (CCP), 121, 140, 142–146; military domi-
233 nance from, 50, 52–55, 60–64;
Civil Liberties Act (1988, US), 74 natu­ral resource extraction and,
Civil Rights Act (1964, US), 81, 195 49–51; postslavery, 82–92, 95;
Civil Rights movement, 10 property owner­ship and, 41, 121,
climatic and environmental inequal- 140, 142–146; religion and, 61,
ities: carbon emissions and, 11, 64–65; research on, 3–4. See also
23–26, 25f, 29, 160, 164n10, 219, neo­co­lo­n ial­ism; reparations;
228–229; climate change, global slavery
warming, and, 23–25, 218, 227–229; Columbus, Christopher, 48, 69
cost of, 212; deforestation and, Common Reporting Standards
50–51; Fridays for ­Future move- proj­ect, 223n28
ment on, 11, 223; globalization communism: Chinese, 15, 233; insti-
and, 218; ideological differences tutional arrangements in, 14–15;
on, 227–229; natu­ral resource power distribution in, 14; Soviet,
extraction and, 49–51, 216–217; 14, 132–133, 145, 167, 237; welfare
plurality of indicators on, 23–26, state vs., 128, 155
29; property re­distribution to Com­pany Law (1906, UK), 113n23
address, 164; targets to address, Condorcet, marquis de, 78
26; universalist sovereignism to Congo-­Ocean Railway, 87–88, 89
address, 243–244 Cooper, Frederick, 3
codevelopment treaties, 219–220 corporate / com­pany voting rights,
Cogneau, Denis, 9 106, 113–120, 118f, 161t, 165–166,
colonialism: capitalism and, 48–51, 194n21
55–56n6, 58, 62, 63–64, 66; educa- cotton, 56–59. See also textile industry
tion and, 89, 90–92, 92f; fiscal and Covid-19 pandemic: economic system
financial capacity with, 52–55, changes following, 236, 239, 241;
54f, 61–64; forced l­ abor and, ­labor issues in, 103; public debt
79, 86–89, 90; ­g reat divergence changes with, 148f; social and
legacy of, 3, 49–67, 54f; heritage of, po­liti­cal changes from, 11; vaccine
48–67; history of, 48–49; income access in, 207n6
in­e quality and, 82–85, 83f, 85f; Cuba, 57f, 69
in­de­pen­dence movements and, 10, currency, 172, 222, 239–243
69, 72, 91, 102, 144n30, 145, 204–206; Czech Republic, 212, 213f
258 Index

da Gama,Vasco, 48, 65 discrimination: affirmative action to

Daumard, Adeline, 5–6, 7 combat, 180–184, 186–196, 191f;
Declaration of the Rights of Man educational, 176–184, 177f, 179f,
and of the Citizen (1789, France), 195–196; equality lack due to,
116n29 175; identity and, 189–193, 191f,
deforestation, 50–51 196–200; overview of, 175; religious,
De Gaulle, Charles, 112n20 189, 200–202; wealth re­distribution
Delalande, Nicolas, 9 for social parity vs., 193–196. See
democracy: institutional arrange- also ethno-­racial discrimination;
ments in, 12, 110; monetary influ- gendered discrimination; social
ences in, 108–112; movement ­toward discrimination
po­liti­cal equality with, 18; reforms division of ­labor: Industrial Revolu-
to, 110–112; transnational, 219–221, tion and, 50; neo­co­lo­nial­ism and,
220t, 223–224, 244. See also 205–206, 215, 216–217; wealth
campaign financing distribution and, 9, 94
demo­cratic federalism, 222–225, dominant classes: defined, 39;
244. See also federal-­social state formation of state by, 66; property
demo­cratic socialism: alternative owner­ship in, 39, 42, 44, 45
systems of, 237–238; benefits of Dominican Republic, 69
proposed, 237; Chinese socialism Dutch East Indies Com­pany, 60
vs., 226, 230–237, 238; limitations
of proposed, 167; movement East Indies, 85
­toward, 226, 235–236, 237–238; pro- economic and financial crises: cen-
gressive taxes with, 134, 155–156, tral bank response to, 241; global
166, 170; self-­managing and de- financial crises (2008) as, 11, 119,
centralized approach to, 166–170; 148f, 208, 236, 237, 238–239, 241;
suffrage ­under, 106–107, 115, 119; power changes with, 10–11; public
universalist sovereignism and, 244; debt changes with, 148f; stock
welfare state and, 127, 155–156, 166 market crisis (1929) and Depres-
Denmark, 50, 114 sion (1930s) as, 11, 115, 121, 134,
Depression (1930s). See stock market 146, 241
crisis (1929) and Depression (1930s) Economic Bill of Rights (1944,
Dessalines, Jean-­Jacques, 73n2 United States), 159
disabilities, persons with, affirma- economic plutocracy, 113–116
tive action for, 187n10 economic system: central banks
disadvantaged classes, 39 and monetary policy in, 238–243,
 Index 259

239f; economic plutocracy, 113–116; equality, 1–16; average income changes

liberalization of, 172, 207–211, and movement ­toward, 18–20,
210f, 236; neo­co­lo­n ial­i sm and, 19f, 21; complexity in history of,
203–225. See also capital; capi- 13–15; and demo­cratic socialism,
talism; economic and financial 226–244; in education and health
crises; taxes; welfare state care, 16–18, 17f, 107; lessons learned
education: affirmative action for, from history of, 9–13; limitations
180–184, 195–196; colonialism and, of socioeconomic indicators
89, 90–92, 92f; expenditures on, mea­sur­i ng, 26–29; plurality of
178–180, 179f, 182–184, 196; in- social and environmental indica-
equalities in access to, 12, 18, 89, tors mea­sur­ing movement ­toward,
90–92, 92f, 176–184, 177f, 179f, 22, 23–26, 29; population growth
195–196; justice and access to, and movement ­toward, 18–21, 19f;
93–94, 176, 180; legacy admissions property owner­ship and, 32–33,
in, 176–178; liberalization and 35, 45; research on, 2–9; and role
inadequate funding for, 209; min- of progressive taxes, 18, 136, 137–139,
imum equal right to, 215; move- 150; socioeconomic indicators
ment ­toward equality in, 16–18, mea­sur­i ng movement ­toward,
17f, 107; progressive taxes funding, 21–22, 27–28; and welfare state,
161t; religion-­based, 201; resource 18, 27, 150, 152, 203. See also
allocation and teacher compen- colonialism; power; property
sation in, 182–184, 196; segregated, owner­ship; reparations; revolts
89, 90; transparency of data on, and revolutions; slavery; social
180–184; welfare state supporting, classes
123–126, 123f, 128, 162 ethno-­racial discrimination: affir-
Egypt, 145, 206, 225 mative action for, 190–193, 191f,
employee funds, 120, 165–166 195–196; Black Lives ­Matter on,
employees. See ­labor 11, 79, 223; equality lack due to,
Enclosure Acts (1604, United 175; ethno-­racial categories and
Kingdom), 101 mea­sure­ment of, 196–200; iden-
endowments, taxation of, 163 tity and, 189–193, 196–200; l­ egal
energy resources, 49–51, 58, 128, system codifying, 84–89; post-
216–217, 229, 234 slavery colonialism and, 84–90,
environmental inequalities. See 95–96; property owner­ship and,
climatic and environmental 34, 96; revolts against, 10, 11, 79,
inequalities 95; segregation as, 81, 89, 90, 195
260 Index

Eu­rope: campaign financing in, 109; colonialism, 52–55, 54f, 61–64;

capital flows regulation in, 172, property owner­ship of, 38f, 39–40,
174; carbon emissions in, 25f, 229; 172n23; public debt securities as,
central bank in, 239f, 242–243n19; 147; public financial register of,
climatic and environmental im- 222–223; tax havens for, 211
pacts of, 25f, 228–229; deforesta- financial crises. See economic and
tion in, 50–51; economic flows in, financial crises
212–213, 213f; fiscal and financial financial influences in democracy,
capacity in, 52–55, 54f, 61–64; 108–112. See also campaign
­great divergence between Asia and, financing
3, 49–67, 54f; “­great re­distribution” food supply, 20, 21, 50–51, 83, 170n21
in, 122–129, 123f; income in­equality forced ­labor, 79, 86–89, 90, 99–103.
in, 83f, 153–154, 154f, 158, 218n22; See also serfdom
Industrial Revolution in, 49–51; foreign assets: liquidation of, 121,
inheritance in, 160, 160f; ­labor 140, 142–146; property owner­ship
movement in, 126n4; military of, 40–41, 232, 232f
dominance of, 50, 52–55, 60–64; foundations, taxation of, 163
national income in, 122, 230n6; France: affirmative action in, 181–183,
po­liti­cal fragmentation in, 55–56; 186–187, 196; campaign financing
property owner­ship in, 150–152, in, 108–109; capital flows in, 172,
151f, 153f; public debt in, 242–243n19; 173, 213; central bank in, 239f;
textile industry in, 49–51, 56–59; com­pany voting rights and man-
transnational democracy in, 221, agement in, 116n29; deforestation
223–224; welfare state and associ- in, 50; education in, 91–92, 92f,
ated taxes in, 122–129, 123f, 152. 124n2, 125–126, 178–180, 179f,
See also specific countries 181–183, 224; ethno-­r acial cat-
Eu­ro­pean Court of Justice, 173n26 egories and discrimination in,
exit taxes, 223n29 198–200; fiscal and financial
externalities, 24 capacity in, 54f, 62; forced l­ abor
in, 79, 86–89, 90, 99–103; foreign
federal-­social state, 203, 218–225, 244 and colonial assets of, 142–145,
Federation of Mali, 206 143f; formation of state, 65; Franco-­
Ferreras, Isabelle, 9 African federal ­u nion, 206n3;
financial assets: central banks and French Civil Code (1804), 34;
monetary policy for, 238–243, French Revolution in, 5, 10, 31, 34,
239f; ­g reat divergence of, with 40, 95–97, 99–101, 129–130; gendered
 Index 261

discrimination in, 184–187, 186f; GDP. See gross domestic product

gilets jaunes (yellow vests) revolt gendered discrimination: affirmative
in, 11; “­great re­distribution” in, 121, action to combat, 186–188, 190;
122, 124n2, 125–127, 129–131, 133, equality lack due to, 175; identity
135, 140–147; health care in, 157n3; and, 189–190; #MeToo movement
income and wealth distribution on, 11, 223; patriarchy and, 184–189,
in, 45n12, 46f, 47, 85f, 135; inflation 186f; property owner­ship and,
in, 147; inheritance in, 97f, 160; 34; suffrage and, 100, 103–108,
international aid from, 212n12; 184–185; wage effects of, 47, 185,
ITO proj­ect opposition in, 207n5; 186f, 188–189
­labor law changes in, 102; military General Agreement on Tariffs and
in, 52–53, 61, 72; national income Trade (GATT), 207
in, 37–38n8, 122; opium wars George, Lloyd, 112n21
role, 61; po­l iti­cal reforms in, 111; Germany: campaign financing in,
postslavery colonialism in, 84, 108; capital flows in, 172, 173, 213;
89–92, 95; power in, 34; progressive central bank in, 239f; com­pany
taxes in, 129–131, 130t, 131f, 132f, 133, voting rights and management
135, 156, 163n7, 235n10; property in, 113–116, 194n21; education in,
owner­ship in, 30–33, 31f, 34, 37–45, 125–126; ethno-­racial categories
38f, 42f, 101n8, 107f, 116, 135, and discrimination in, 198–199;
140–142, 141f, 231f; proportional foreign and colonial assets of,
taxes in, 163n7; public debt dis- 143f, 144–145; “­great re­distribution”
solution in, 147, 148f; secularism in, 121, 122, 125–126, 131, 140–142,
and religious discrimination in, 144–145, 147–148; national in-
200–202; Senate veto rights in, come in, 122; progressive taxes
111; slavery and reparations by, in, 131, 131f, 132f, 163n7; property
68–79, 70f, 71f, 93; suffrage in, 100, owner­ship in, 115–116, 140–142,
103–104, 104f, 184–185; welfare 141f, 231f; public debt dissolution
state and associated taxes in, 122, in, 147–148, 148f; religious taxes
124n2, 125–126, 127, 157n3 in, 202; reparations by, 74, 145–146;
François, Pierre, 62n14 welfare state and associated taxes
Fraser, Nancy, 9 in, 122, 125–126
­free trade, 58, 59, 61, 173, 218–219, 228 Gethin, Amory, 8
French Guiana, 79 Gide, André, 88
Fridays for ­Future movement, 11, 223 gilets jaunes (yellow vests)
Friot, Bernard, 168–170 revolt, 11
262 Index

global financial crises (2008): eco- 150; overview of, 121–122; progres-
nomic system changes following, sive taxes affecting, 121, 129–140,
119, 208, 236, 237, 238–239, 241; 150; public debt dissolution for,
public debt changes with, 148f; 121–122, 140, 142, 146–149; welfare
social and po­liti­cal changes from, 11 state rise with, 121, 122–129, 123f, 150
globalization, 171, 203, 218–221, 220f, Green New Deal, 159, 240n17
228n2 Grenet, Julien, 9
Global Pro­gress Indicator (GPI), 28 gross domestic product (GDP): cli-
global South: climatic and environ- matic damage costs as percentage
mental inequalities in, 229; colo- of, 212; international aid as per-
nialism in (see colonialism); centage of, 211; national income
commercial liberalization effects vs., 23–24; per hour worked, 126;
in, 207–211, 210f; Covid vaccine as socioeconomic indicator, 23–24,
access in, 207n6; demo­c ratic 27, 29; taxes as percentage of,
socialism considering, 236; dis- 208–210, 210f, 215
crimination in, 175, 184; education Guadeloupe, 69, 70f, 72, 76, 79
and health care disparities in, 18, guaranteed employment, 159, 160,
209, 215; international aid to, 162, 164, 240n17
211–214, 216; ­labor reforms in, 103;
neo­co­lo­nial­ism and, 174, 203–218, Haiti (Saint-­Domingue): centennial
236n12; rights for poor countries cele­brations of, 75; cotton in, 56;
in, 214–218; Soviet influence in, Declaration of In­de­pen­dence,
145, 208n7; taxes in, 207–211, 210f, 69, 72; income in­equality in, 83f,
215–216 85f; reparations reimbursement
Global Times, 233 to, 72–75, 93; slave revolt in, 10,
Gollac, Sibylle, 9 56, 71–72, 76, 95; slavery in, 56,
Goody, Jack, 64 69–72, 70f, 71f; taxation of, 90
Govind, Yajna, 9 Hall, Catherine, 3
GPI (Global Pro­gress Indicator), 28 Hayek, Friedrich, 236n12
Graeber, David, 9 HDI (­Human Development Index), 28
Graslin, Jean-­Joseph-­Louis, 130, 130t health care: inequalities in access
­g reat divergence, colonial legacy to, 12, 18; justice and access to,
of, 3, 49–67, 54f 94; liberalization and inadequate
“­great re­distribution”: foreign and funding for, 209; minimum equal
colonial asset liquidation for, 121, right to, 215; movement t­ oward
140, 142–146; lessons learned from, equality in, 16–18, 17f, 107; progres-
 Index 263

sive taxes funding, 161t; public slavery, 82–85, 83f, 85f; inequalities
insurance for, 153, 168; welfare state of, with globalization, 218; inequal-
supporting, 123, 123f, 127, 128, 157n3, ities of inter-­country, 203–207, 204f;
162 national (see national income);
Hennette, Stéphanie, 9 plurality of socioeconomic indica-
Henry VIII, 98 tors on, 22, 23–26, 29; purchasing
Herlin-­Giret, Camille, 9 power of, 19–20, 19f, 21–22, 133,
Hitler, Adolf, 146 230n6; re­distribution of, 84n16;
Hong Kong, 61, 233 research on, 4–8; suffrage tied to,
Houphouët-­Boigny, Félix, 89 105–106; from work, 45–47. See also
housing: property owner­ship of, “­great re­distribution”; socioeco-
34–35, 36–37, 38f, 39, 167, 231–232; nomic status; wages; wealth
welfare state supporting, 123f distribution
Huillery, Élise, 9 India: affirmative action in, 190–194,
­Human Development Index (HDI), 28 191f; campaign financing in, 109;
Hungary, 212, 213f castes and in­equality in, 107–108,
Hu Xijin, 233n7 190–194, 191f, 192f; colonialism in,
48; Covid vaccine access in, 207n6;
identity, and discrimination, 189–193, economic power of, 234; gendered
191f, 196–200 discrimination in, 186, 190; “­g reat
Île Bourbon / Île de la Ré­union, 69, re­d istribution” in, 121; income
72, 79, 84n17, 86 in­equality in, 218n22; ITO proj­ect
Île de France (Mauritius), 69, 86 supported by, 207; nationalism
ILO (International L ­ abour Organ­ in, 236; textiles and manufactured
ization), 88–89 products from, 51, 57–59, 60
IMF (International Monetary Fund), industrial revolutions, 49–51, 125–126,
172, 208 228–229
income: average, 18–20, 19f, 21; basic, infant mortality, 16, 20
158–159, 160, 162, 164; from capital, inflation, 27, 146–147, 148f, 149, 153, 240
45–46; choice of socioeconomic inheritance: minimum (or for all),
indicators on, 21–22, 27–28, 126; 160, 160f, 161t, 162–165, 168; prop-
distribution of, 45–47, 46f; inequal- erty owner­ship and, 4–6, 31, 35;
ities of, continuing, 21, 47, 152–154, re­distribution of, 160, 160f, 161t,
154f; inequalities of, progressive 162–164; reparations for lost, 74,
taxes reducing, 137–139, 157–159; in- 75n5; research on, 4–6; socioeco-
equalities of, with colonialism and nomic status and, 97f
264 Index

interest rates, 241–242 ­labor: affirmative action for, 186–187,

international aid, 211–214, 213f, 216 195; com­pany voting rights and
International L ­ abour Organ­ization management by, 113–120, 118f,
(ILO), 88–89 161t, 165–166, 194n21; division of,
International Monetary Fund 9, 50, 94, 205–206, 215, 216–217;
(IMF), 172, 208 education and training for, 125–126;
International Trade Organ­ization employee funds for, 120, 165–166;
(ITO), 206–207 ethno-­racial discrimination in,
Ireland, 144n30, 173, 174n27 199–200; forced, 79, 86–89, 90,
ISIS, 225 99–103; gendered discrimination
Italy, 50, 67n24, 108, 201–202, 217n21 in, 47, 185–189, 186f; guaranteed
Ivory Coast, 89, 206 employment for, 159, 160, 162, 164,
240n17; ­labor ­unions representing,
Jackson, Tim, 28 10, 13, 14, 45, 88–89, 102, 106,
Jamaica, 10, 69, 70f, 76, 206 115, 120, 126, 152, 200; property
James, C. L. R., 206n4 owner­s hip and, 34–35, 36, 43;
Japan: central bank in, 239n15; cli- retirement pensions for, 45, 46f,
matic and environmental impacts 122–123, 123f, 161t, 162, 168; revolts
of, 228; colonialism of, 63; educa- and reforms for, 10, 99–103, 126n4,
tion in, 125; foreign and colonial 133, 152; time spent at work, 126;
assets of, 143f; formation of state, unemployment benefits for, 45,
65; “­great re­distribution” in, 121, 46f, 122, 123f, 161t, 162. See also
125, 131, 148; progressive taxes in, serfdom; slavery; wages
131, 131f, 132f, 163n7; property Labrousse, Ernest, 5, 7, 20
owner­ship in, 231f; protectionism by, Lacoste, 130, 130t
59; public debt dissolution in, 148 Ladurie, Emmanuel Le Roy, 6
Jefferson, Thomas, 80 Lamartine, 65n19, 78n10
Johnson, Lyndon and administra- Lampman, Robert, 6
tion, 195 Landsorganisationen i Sverige
joint-­stock companies, 113–116 (LO), 166
Jones, Alice Hanson, 6–7 Law, John, 61
League of Nations, 88
Kelton, Stephanie, 9 Lee, Spike, 82
Killewald, Alexandra, 9 ­legal system: affirmative action in,
King, Martin Luther, Jr., 159 180–184, 186–196; forced l­ abor
Kuznets, Simon, 6, 7 codified in, 99–103; ­free circulation
 Index 265

of capital codified in, 170–174; Manifesto for ­Labour Law, 119

gendered discrimination codified March on Washington for Jobs and
in, 184–185; institutional arrange- Freedom (1963, US), 159
ments in, 12; l­ abor law changes Martínez-­Toledano, Clara, 8
in, 102–103; postslavery colonial Martinique, 69, 70f, 72, 79
in­equality and discrimination in, Marx, Karl, 4, 55–56n6, 101n8
84–89, 95–96; property laws in, Marxism, on property owner­ship,
34–35, 44, 78, 101, 110–111, 167n17. 36–37
See also treaties Master and Servant Act (1875, UK),
Lemercier, Claire, 9, 62n14 102
Leopold II, 87 Mattéoli Mission, 74
levies, on private wealth, 146–148, Mauritius, 69, 86
241. See also wealth taxes McGaughey, Ewan, 9
Lévi-­Strauss, Claude, 65 means of production, property
liberalization, economic, 172, 207–211, owner­ship of, 36–37, 39–40, 43, 167
210f, 236 Meda, Dominique, 9
Liberia, 80n12 media, 12, 27, 40, 109–110, 155, 167, 237
life expectancy, 16–18, 17f, 21 Meidner, Rudolf / Meidner funds,
Lincoln, Abraham, 80 120, 165–166
Lipp­mann, Walter, 236n12 “melting” property, 166n16
Lipset, Seymour, 8 #MeToo movement, 11, 223
literacy rate, 17–18, 17f ­middle classes: defined, 39; income
LO (Landsorganisationen i Sverige), distribution in, 46f, 47; patrimonial,
166 41–45, 42f, 150–152, 153f; property
Lombard, Denys, 85 owner­ship in, 39, 41–45, 42f,
Londre, Albert, 88 150–152, 153f
Louis XVIII, 103 ­Middle East, 58, 83f, 211, 219n22, 225.
Louverture, Toussaint, 73n2 See also specific countries
Luxembourg, 173, 224 military: colonialism and dominance
LuxLeaks inquiry, 223n28 of Eu­ro­pean, 50, 52–55, 60–64;
Lyft, 110n18 conscription into, 89; taxes to
support, 123, 123f, 124n2, 126
Maastricht Treaty (1992), 172, 173n26 minimum inheritance, 160, 160f,
Madison, James, 80 161t, 162–165, 168
Maggor, Noam, 9 minimum wage, 47, 152–153, 159
Mali, 206, 224 Mississippi Com­pany, 62
266 Index

monetary policy, 238–243, 239f 207, 210, 218; Global South and,
Monnet, Eric, 9 174, 203–218, 236n12; institutional
Morocco, 61, 90–91, 144–145 arrangements supporting, 12;
multinational corporations, 206; inter-­country income in­equality
beneficiary of international inte- with, 203–207, 204f; international
gration, 171; and dispute settlement, aid and, 211–214, 213f, 216; neo-
220; and profit and capital flight, liberalism and, 236n12; rights for
212; and rights of poor countries, poor countries vs., 214–218; taxes
215, 215–216n19, 218; taxing, 208, and, 208–211, 210f, 215–216
210, 219, 238, 244n20 neoliberalism, 236. See also liberal-
ization, economic
national income: calculation of, neonationalism, 236
23–24; in China, 205, 230n6; for- Netherlands, 67n24, 84–85, 95
eign assets as percentage of, 142; New Deal, 81, 127; Green, 159, 240n17
in France, 37–38n8, 122; property New Zealand, 184
owner­ship as percentage of, 141, Niger, 206
141f; public assets as percentage of, Nigeria, 209
235n11; public debt as percentage nonprofit organ­izations, taxation
of, 146, 148f; reparations as per- of, 163
centage of, 72–73, 74, 76, 80n12, Norway, 114, 224
145–146; as socioeconomic indi-
cator, 23–24, 27; taxes as percentage Obama, Barack, and administration,
of, 54–55, 54f, 122–124, 126, 156, 173
160, 161t Ocasio-­Cortez, Alexandria, 166
nationalism, 236–237 O’Neill, Martin, 9
Native Land Act (1913, S. Africa), 85 opium wars, 60–61
Ndiaye, Pap, 9 Organisation for Economic Co-­
neo­co­lo­nial­ism: center-­periphery operation and Development
relations and, 212, 214–218; cli- (OECD), 172, 174, 211–212n12,
matic and environmental inequal- 223n28
ities with, 212, 216–217; commercial Ottoman Empire, 52–54, 54f, 58, 142
liberalization and, 207–211, 210f;
economic system and, 203–225; Paine, Thomas, 78
exiting, 203–225; federal-­social Parcoursup platform, 181
state vs., 203, 218–225; ­f ree cir- Parthasarathi, Prasannan, 3, 56n6,
culation of capital and, 174, 203, 57, 64
 Index 267

participatory socialism, 116–120, 10–11; institutional arrangements

118f, 161t, 165, 166n16 and, 12–15; limitations of focus on,
patriarchy, 184–189, 186f 13–15; participatory socialism and
patrimonial ­middle class, property sharing of, 116–120, 118f, 165; prop-
owner­ship in, 41–45, 42f, 150–152, 153f erty and, 30, 33–37, 40, 170–174, 218;
peasant revolts (1788–1789), 10 purchasing power, 19–20, 19f, 21–22,
­People’s Republic of China. See China 133, 230n6; re­sis­tance to changes in,
Périvier, Hélène, 9 13; as social and po­liti­cal construct,
Pfeffer, Fabian, 9 9–10; suffrage and, 113–116. See also
Pistor, Katharina, 9 colonialism; neo­co­lo­nial­ism
Plato, 4 press, freedom of, 12. See also media
Plessy v. Ferguson (1896), 195 prices: inflation of, 27, 146–147, 148f,
Poland, 212, 213f 149, 153, 240; research on, 5–6
politics: affirmative action in, 186–187, profits: international aid and flow
190–192, 194; campaign financing of, 212–214, 213f; property owner­
in, 40, 108–109, 110, 167; colony ship and, 36; research on, 4–5
repre­sen­ta­tion in, 90n22; economic progressive taxes: capitalism transfor-
and financial crises effects on, mation with, 150, 155–159; consent
11; gendered discrimination in, to, 136–137; decline of, 137, 153,
186–187; movement t­ oward equality 235n10; demo­cratic socialism and,
in, 18; power and wealth distribu- 134, 155–156, 166, 170; economic
tion as constructs of, 9–10; progres- growth and, 139, 140f; “­great re­
sive taxes affected by, 112, 133–134; distribution” with, 121, 129–140, 150;
property owner­ship as construct invention of, 129–134, 131f, 132f;
of, 30, 217–218; reforms to po­liti­cal limitations of, 158; minimum in-
systems, 110–112, 152; socioeco- heritance financed by, 160, 160f, 161t,
nomic status and, 98; veto rights 162–165, 168; movement ­toward
in, 111, 112; welfare state support equality with, 18, 136, 137–139, 150;
in, 127–128. See also suffrage obstacles for, 155, 207; po­liti­cal re-
poll taxes, 40, 129 forms and, 112, 133–134; pretax in-
Pomeranz, Ken, 3, 49–52, 55, 56n6, 64 come in­equality reduction with,
population growth, 18–21, 19f 137–139, 157–159; property owner­
Posse, Arvid, 106 ship and, 44, 45, 135; reconception
Postel-­Vinay, Gilles, 6 of, 12; social contract changes with,
power: censitary, 170–174, 218; eco- 136–137; socialism and, 155–156,
nomic and financial crises shifting, 159–166, 160f, 161t; worldwide, 215
268 Index

property owner­ship: as bundle of proportional taxes, 129, 130, 163n7

rights, 33–35; of cash or liquid protectionism, 57, 58, 59
assets, 38, 38f; in China, 230–232, Prus­sia, 50, 53, 54f, 74, 99n4,
231f, 232f, 234–235; defined, 30; 101n8, 106–107n14
ethno-­racial discrimination and, public debt: central banks and mon-
34, 96; evolution of concentration etary policy for, 241–242; China’s
of, 30–33, 31f; of financial assets, vs. Western countries’, 61, 234–235;
38f, 39–40, 172n23; forced l­ abor colonialism and, 52–53, 61–62;
and, 99, 101–102; of foreign and dissolution of, 121–122, 140, 142,
colonial assets, 40–41, 121, 140, 146–149; fluctuations in, 148f;
142–146, 232, 232f; of housing, inflation and, 146–147; property
34–35, 36–37, 38f, 39, 167, 231–232; owner­ship and, 40; reparations
hyperconcentration of, 150–154, as, 72–75, 76–77, 97, 145–146; war
151f, 153f, 159; income distribution debt as, 145–146
and, 45–47, 46f, 152–154, 154f; purchasing power, 19–20, 19f, 21–22,
­legal system on, 34–35, 44, 78, 101, 133, 230n6
110–111, 167n17; limits on, 217; of
means of production, 36–37, racial discrimination. See ethno-­
39–40, 43, 167; “melting,” 166n16; racial discrimination
overview of, 30; in patrimonial re­distribution: of income, 84n16; of
­m iddle class, 41–45, 42f, 150–152, inheritance, 160, 160f, 161t, 162–164;
153f; power and, 30, 33–37, 40, of property owner­ship, 84n16,
170–174, 218; progressive taxes 98, 111, 140–142, 159–170, 193; of
and, 44, 45, 135; re­distribution of, taxes, 215–216; of wealth, 193–196.
84n16, 98, 111, 140–142, 159–170, See also ­great re­distribution
193; reparations and, 78, 79, 80, reforms. See revolts and
81–82; research on, 4–7; revolts revolutions
and revolutions effects on, 96, regressive taxes, 18, 76, 129, 130
98, 99, 101n8; slavery and, 35, 36, religion and religious organ­izations:
78; as social and po­liti­cal con- colonialism and, 61, 64–65; dis-
struct, 30, 217–218; social classes crimination tied to, 189, 200–202;
and, 39, 41–45, 42f; socialism and, freedom of, 61; institutional
159–166; of the state, 40; suffrage changes in, 112n22; ­labor for, 100;
tied to, 104f, 104n12, 105–107, property owner­ship, 98; secularism
113–116; taxes based on, 107; wealth and alleged neutrality ­toward,
distribution and, 4–5, 107f. See also 200–202; socioeconomic status
“­great re­distribution”; inheritance of clergy, 98
 Index 269

reparations: involving France and Reward Work Act (2018, United

Haiti, 72–75, 93; for Jewish prop- States), 119n33
erty, 74; justice and, 93; and opium Rokkan, Stein, 8
war, 61; overview of, 68; for revolt Roo­se­velt, Franklin D., 112, 134, 138,
and revolution losses, 97; to slave- 159
holders, 68–72, 75–79; to slaves, Röpke, Wilhelm, 236n12
78, 81–82, 195; and World War I Rosenboim, Or, 3
debt, 145–146 Rousseau, Jean-­Jacques, 4
research, overview of influential, Rus­sia: climatic and environmental
2–9 impacts of, 228; foreign owner­
retirement pensions, 45, 46f, 122–123, ship of assets in, 142; “­g reat re­
123f, 161t, 162, 168 distribution” in, 121; hypercapitalism
revolts and revolutions: anthropo- in, 14–15; income in­equality in,
logical, 127–129; for demo­cratic 218n22; Rus­sian Revolution, 132,
reforms, 110–112; for economic 145; serfdom in, 99n4; Soviet
plutocracy changes, 113–116; on communism in, 14, 132–133, 145,
ethno-­racial discrimination, 10, 167, 237
11, 79, 95, 223; French Revolution
as, 5, 10, 31, 34, 40, 95–97, 99–101, Saada, Emmanuelle, 3, 84
129–130; on gendered discrimina- Saez, Emmanuel, 7
tion, 11, 223; gilets jaunes (yellow Saïd, Edward, 65
vests) revolt as, 11; in­de­pen­dence Saint-­Domingue. See Haiti (Saint-
movements as, 10, 69, 72, 91, 102, ­Domingue)
144n30, 145, 204–206; on l­ abor salarial socialism, 168–170
issues, 10, 99–103, 126n4, 133, 152; Sanders, Bernie, 166, 223n29
overview of, 10–11; for participative Saudi Arabia, 124n2, 184
socialism and power sharing, Schoelcher, Victor, 77–79
116–120; peasant revolts (1788–1789) secularism, 200–202
as, 10; property owner­ship effects segregation, 81, 89, 90, 195
of, 96, 98, 99, 101n8; reparations Senegal, 206, 222n26
for losses from, 97; Rus­sian Rev- Senghor, Léopold, 206
olution as, 132, 145; slave revolts serfdom, 52, 99–101, 103. See also
as, 10, 56, 71–72, 76, 95; for status forced ­labor
and privilege changes, 95–98; for Siéyès, Abbé, 98
suffrage changes, 100, 103–108, 109, Simiand, François, 6
113–120, 134. See also industrial Simon, Patrick, 9
revolutions Singaravelou, Pierre, 3
270 Index

slavery: abolition of, 72, 75–78; cotton, 238; federal, 203, 218–225, 244;
textiles, and, 50–51, 56–59, 68; participative, 116–120, 118f, 161t,
forced l­ abor following, 79, 86–89, 165, 166n16; property owner­ship
90; heritage of, 48–67; income in­ and, 159–166; salarial, 168–170;
equality and, 82–85, 83f, 85f; In- welfare state, progressive taxes,
dustrial Revolution and, 50–51; and, 155–156, 159–166, 160f, 161t.
postslavery colonialism, 82–92, 95; See also demo­cratic socialism
property owner­ship and, 35, 36, 78; social security, 14, 18, 102, 127, 168, 209
research on, 3–4; revolts against, socioeconomic status: aggregation of
10, 56, 71–72, 76, 95; rise and fall indicators on, 28–29; choice of in-
of, 57f; slaves transferred to Africa dicators on, 21–22, 27–28, 126; dis-
­a fter, 80. See also reparations crimination based on (see social
Slovakia, 212, 213f discrimination); income and (see
Smith, Adam, Wealth of Nations, 52 income; wages; wealth distribution);
social and demo­cratic federalism, inheritance and, 97f; limitations of
222–225, 244 indicators on, 26–29; plurality of
social classes: disadvantaged classes indicators on, 22, 23–26, 29; revolts
as, 39; dominant classes as, 39, and revolutions to improve, 95–98.
42, 44, 45; formation of state and, See also social classes
66–67; ideology on equality and, South, global. See global South
13–14; ­middle classes as, 39, 41–45, South, US: and discrimination,
42f, 46f, 47, 150–152, 153f; property 89–90; and slavery, 50, 56, 57,
owner­ship and, 39, 41–45, 42f; 68–70, 80, 81. See also United States
upper classes as, 39; wealthy South Africa: colonialism in, 49;
classes as, 39, 42. See also income; Covid vaccine access in, 207n6;
socioeconomic status; wealth ethno-­racial discrimination in,
distribution 85–86, 191n15, 192f; income in­
social discrimination: affirmative equality in, 83f, 84; revolts against
action to combat, 180–184, 190–196, apartheid in, 10; secession threats
191f; education access and, 176–184, in, 80
177f, 195–196; equality lack due to, South K ­ orea, 59, 63
175; identity and, 189–193; wealth Soviet communism, 14, 132–133, 145,
re­distribution for social parity 167, 237
vs., 193–196 Spain, 50
socialism: ­battle between forms of, Spire, Alexis, 9
237–238; Chinese, 226, 230–237, Stanziani, Alessandro, 3
 Index 271

state: formation or construction of Taiwan, 59, 63, 233

the, 65–67, 210f, 211, 214, 216; prop- Taubira, Christiane, 79
erty owner­ship of the, 40. See also taxes: capital, 173, 174n27, 222–223;
gross domestic product; national carbon, 11, 160; colonialism and,
income; public debt; taxes; welfare 52–54, 58, 90, 91; and commercial
state liberalization, 208–211, 210f; and
status. See socioeconomic status deductions for po­liti­cal contribu-
stock market crisis (1929) and De- tions, 109; and deductions for re-
pression (1930s), 11, 115, 121, 134, ligious contributions, 201–202;
146, 241 exit, 223n29; forced l­ abor in lieu
Subrahmanyam, Sanjay, 3, 64 of, 87; ­free circulation of capital
Suez Canal, 145 without, 170–174, 203, 207, 210,
suffrage: censitary, 100, 104n12, 218; ­g reat divergence of, 52–54,
105–106, 109, 113–116, 134; com­ 54f; as percentage of national in-
pany / corporate, 106, 113–120, 118f, come, 54–55, 54f, 122–124, 126, 156,
161t, 165–166, 194n21; reforms 160, 161t; poll, 40, 129; on private
needed and enacted for, 100, wealth, 147–148, 241; property
103–108, 109, 113–120, 134; welfare owner­ship as basis for, 107; pro-
state rise and, 127; ­women’s, 104, portional, 129, 130, 163n7; re­
105, 184–185 distribution of, 215–216; regressive,
Sun Yat-­sen, 61 18, 76, 129, 130; reparations via,
Sweden: com­pany voting rights and 72–75, 76–77, 97; suffrage tied to,
management in, 114, 120, 165–166; 103–104, 104f, 105–106; and tax
education in, 125; employee funds havens, 211; and textile tariffs,
in, 120, 165–166; ethno-­racial dis- 58; transnational distribution
crimination in, 198n25; “­great re­ of, 93–94, 215; wealth, 163, 223n29,
distribution” in, 121, 122, 125, 127, 235n10; and welfare state, 122–129,
131, 134; income in­equality in, 83f; 123f; worldwide, 215. See also pro-
movement t­ oward equality in, 107; gressive taxes; public debt
national income in, 122; progres- Tcherneva, Pavlina, 9
sive taxes in, 131, 134; property Testart, A., 67n23
owner­ship in, 107f; suffrage in, 104f, textile industry, 49–51, 56–59, 68,
105–107, 134; welfare state and as- 125
sociated taxes in, 122, 125, 127 Tocqueville, Alexis de, 77
Switzerland, 173, 184, 239n15 Todeschini, Giacomo, 64
Syria, 206 Total oil group, 223
272 Index

trade: codevelopment treaties on, colonial assets of, 142–145, 143f;

219–220; ­f ree, 58, 59, 61, 173, formation of state, 65; “­great re­
218–219, 228; liberalization of, distribution” in, 121, 122, 124–127,
207–211, 210f; protectionist policies 131, 134, 135, 140–145, 149; health
on, 57, 58, 59 care in, 127, 157n3; income and
transnational democracy, 219–221, wealth distribution in, 45–46n12,
220t, 223–224, 244 135; Industrial Revolution in, 49–51;
treaties: British-­C hinese, 61; ITO proj­ect opposition in, 207n5;
codevelopment, 219–220; ­f ree military in, 52–53, 61; national in-
circulation of capital codified come in, 122; opium wars role,
in, 170–173; Haiti-­France, 73; 60–61; po­liti­cal reforms in, 111–112;
Maastricht Treaty (1992), 172, poll tax in, 129n10; postslavery co-
173n26; redefinition of, 118, 203; lonialism in, 95; progressive taxes
Treaty of Versailles (1919), 145–146, in, 131, 131f, 132f, 134; property
148f owner­ship in, 98, 101–102, 107f,
Trente Glorieuses, 185, 188, 204–205 135, 140–142, 141f, 231f; protec-
Trinidad and Tobago, 55n6, 206 tionism by, 57, 58; public debt dis-
Trumpism, 236 solution in, 148f, 149; reparations
Trump University, 128n9 by, 75–79; slavery in, 68–72, 70f, 75;
Turkey, 184, 198, 236. See also suffrage in, 104, 104f; textile in-
Ottoman Empire dustry in, 49–51, 56–59; welfare
state and associated taxes in, 122,
Uber, 110n18 124–127, 157n3
unemployment benefits, 45, 46f, United Nations: global South in-
122, 123f, 161t, 162 f luence in, 206; H ­ uman Devel-
United Arab States, 206 opment Index, 28; population
United Kingdom: Brexit and neona- projections, 20
tionalism in, 236; colonialism of, United States: affirmative action in,
49–53, 95; com­pany voting rights 195–196; campaign financing in,
and management in, 113n23, 119, 108–109; capital flow regulations
166; deforestation in, 50–51; edu- in, 173–174; carbon emissions in,
cation in, 124–126; ethno-­racial 25f, 229; central bank in, 239f;
categories and discrimination Civil War in, 10, 56, 80–81; cli-
in, 197–198; fiscal and financial matic and environmental impacts
capacity in, 52, 54f, 61–62; forced of, 25f, 228–229; com­pany voting
­labor in, 86, 101–102; foreign and rights and management in, 119,
 Index 273

166; cotton and textile industry von Mises, Ludwig, 236n12

in, 56; education in, 81, 89, 124–126, voting rights. See suffrage
128, 176–178, 177f, 181, 195; ethno-­
racial discrimination in, 191, 192f, wages: gendered discrimination in,
195–197; foreign and colonial 47, 185, 186f, 188–189; income dis-
assets of, 143f; gendered discrimi- tribution and, 45–47; inequalities
nation in, 185; “­great re­distribution” of, progressive taxes reducing,
in, 121, 122, 124–129, 131, 134, 135–136, 157–159; ­labor laws on, 102–103;
138–139; health care in, 128, 153; minimum wage, 47, 152–153, 159;
income in­equality in, 83f, 153, research on, 4–6; salarial socialism,
154f, 218n22; l­abor movement in, 168–170
126n4; military dominance of, 81; Wallerstein, Immanuel, 3, 59
minimum wage in, 152–153; na- Warren, Elizabeth, 223n29
tional income in, 122, 139, 140f, Washington, George, 80
230n6; neonationalism rise in, 236; Washington Consensus, 207–208
po­l iti­cal reforms in, 112; post- wealth distribution: division of
slavery colonialism in, 95; pro- ­labor and, 9, 94; ­f ree circulation
gressive taxes in, 131, 131f, 132f, 134, of capital and, 170–174, 203, 207,
135–136, 136f, 137n19, 138–139, 140f, 210, 218; as heritage of slavery and
153; property owner­ship in, 151–153, colonialism, 48, 93; inequalities
151f, 153f, 231f; proportional taxes of, continuing, 21; reconception
in, 163n7; public debt dissolution of, 12; research on, 4–8; re­sis­tance
in, 148f; purchasing power of, to changes in, 13; as social and
230n6; reparations by, 74–75, po­liti­cal construct, 9–10; social
80–82, 93, 195; segregation in, 81, parity and re­d istribution of,
89, 195; slavery in, 48, 50–51, 56, 193–196; transnational, 93–94, 215.
57f, 69, 70f, 80–82; taxation of See also “­g reat re­d istribution”;
capital by, 173, 174n27, 223n29; income; progressive taxes; prop-
welfare state and associated taxes erty owner­ship
in, 122, 124–129 Wealth of Nations (Smith), 52
universalist sovereignism, 243–244 wealth taxes, 163, 223n29, 235n10.
upper classes, 39 See also levies, on private
wealth
veterans, affirmative action for, wealthy classes, 39, 42
187n10 Weber, Max, 55n6
Villèle, Count de, 97 Weeks, Samuel, 9
274 Index

welfare state: capitalism transfor- Woker, Madeline, 9

mation with, 128, 150, 155–159; ­women: suffrage for, 104, 105,
demo­cratic socialism and, 127, 184–185. See also gendered
155–156, 166; federal, transforma- discrimination
tion to, 203, 218–225, 244; “­great workers. See ­labor
re­distribution” and rise of, 121, World Bank, 208
122–129, 123f, 150; limitations of, World In­equality Database, 7–8
158, 203–207; movement t­ oward world-­systems (Braudel), 59
equality with, 18, 27, 150, 152, 203; World Trade Organ­ization (WTO),
national, transformation from, 207
203, 218–221; neoliberalism vs., World War I and II: income distri-
236n12; obstacles for, 155; progres- bution following, 46f; in­equality
sive taxes financing, 160, 161t; reduction following, 44; in­equality
property owner­ship and, 44, 45; under­lying, 10; progressive taxes
socialism and, 155–156, 162, 164–165 influenced by, 131–132; property
West African Economic and Mon- owner­ship following, 31f, 141–142;
etary Union, 222 reparations for debt from, 145–146;
West Indies: federation of states in, welfare state rise following, 121
206; income in­equality in, 84;
slavery in, 50, 56, 57f, 68–72, 70f, Yemen, 206
71f. See also specific countries
West Indies Federation, 206 Zuboff, Shoshana, 9
Williams, Eric, 55–56n6 Zucman, Gabriel, 7