Timothy D. Terrell
July 29, 2004
An article I read recently on a consumer advocacy
website complained about allegedly huge profits
being garnered by pharmaceutical companies. “Prescription
drug profiteering racket exposed by Dept. of
Commerce” was the headline. The Department
of Commerce “study” the author
cited bore the earmarks of a hoax, and in fact
a check of the Department of Commerce website
revealed no mention of any such action. The
website editor apparently believed that pharmaceutical
companies were actually earning profits of
around a half-million percent. But let us set
the editor’s gullibility aside and go
straight to the main ethical issue in question:
Are profits immoral? And, if they aren’t
immoral per se, is there a level at which they become immoral?
For centuries, if not millennia, people have
been suspicious of profit, thinking that profit
to one person must mean a loss to someone else.
Exchange, people have thought, must be “zero-sum,” that
is, if someone gains, someone or some group
of people must have lost an amount equal to
those profits. Profit, then, would simply be
evidence that theft has occurred. Those who
promoted this view failed to see that both
sides could benefit from an exchange because
both sides place different, and equally valid,
values on the object traded.
In a market exchange, if I voluntarily hand
over dollars in exchange for, say, prescription
drugs, it is evidence that I expect to be better
off with the drugs than with the dollars. If
the drug manufacturer voluntarily hands over
the drugs in exchange for the dollars, it is
evidence that they expect to be better off
with the dollars than with the drugs. Both
expectations can be fulfilled. Furthermore,
how much better off I become relative to how
much better off the manufacturer becomes is
a matter of complete ethical indifference.
If I am willing to pay $5,000 for the prescription
and the manufacturer is willing to accept anything
over $1, then there is a wide range of prices
that would make us both better off. I’d
be willing to pay anything less than $5,000,
and the manufacturer would be willing to accept
anything over $1. If the price is actually
$4,951, do the manufacturer’s $4,950
(495,000 percent) profits constitute unethical “profiteering”?
Or, to turn this around, if I would be willing
to pay $5,000 for a drug (say, one that restores
my ability to work or significantly extends
my life), but I only have to pay $50, I get
a “profit” of $4,950. Am I “profiteering”?
Why do consumer advocates want to condemn high
profits in one case but not the other?
For Christians, who base ethics on the Bible,
it would be difficult to find grounds for ruling
out large profits by businesses but not large
profits by customers. And I have yet to see
a coherent case for determining that profit
over such-and-such a level would be unethical.
It would seem that in the absence of a Biblical
statement on the issue, we would be adding
to the word of God to argue that any level
of profit is unethical.
Beyond this basic argument for the ethics
of free pricing and profits, we can see that
profit is necessary, even required as evidence
of good stewardship. Profit is evidence that
the action taken by the entrepreneur created
more benefits than costs. It is a here-and-now
reward for doing something that is beneficial
to other people.
There are those who will argue that one should
never “make a profit from someone else’s
suffering.” Certainly the presence of
hardship or suffering provides an opportunity
to exercise charity, and it would be wrong
to always pass up such opportunities for ministering
to another person in need. However, to disallow
profit from meeting intense human needs is
to eliminate the most significant motivating
force that prompts relief of those needs. Most
hunger is relieved not by people donating charitably
to a community pantry, diaconal fund, or international
aid organization, but by profit-seeking entrepreneurs
in the normal course of business. The vast
majority of the time, the profit motive gets
food to where it is needed. Charity deals with
the exceptions to the rule.
And, if we are to be honest, we all occupy
ourselves with relieving suffering in some
way. A pharmaceutical company profits from
relieving the illness that would result without
their drugs. A construction business profits
from relieving the hardship that would exist
without shelter. I, as a college professor,
make a profit from relieving the ignorance
of my students. My wife, who works part-time
as a nurse, makes a profit from relieving illness
and injury. (Employees, of course, are unaccustomed
to thinking of their wage as being partly “profit,” but
in fact any wage that is larger than their
next-best use of their time and abilities contains
profit.)
In a world with a wide variety of human needs
and limited resources with which to meet them
and limited knowledge about which needs are
most severe, we should actually be thankful
for the existence of profit. Profits serve
as an important signal, with higher profits
saying, in effect, “More resources are
needed over here,” and lower profits
or losses saying, “Filling this need
is less urgent right now.” Because humans
are not omniscient, these signals are vital
to good stewardship.
In deciding among competing needs, other sources
of information are highly unreliable. If you
had a million dollars at your disposal with
the requirement that you devote it to the relief
of the most urgent human need, how would you
decide? Of course the initial response for
many Christians would be to direct the funds
toward the ministry of the gospel. Yet even
the most zealous evangelist would have to concede
that other uses of those resources are also
desirable. Even Christ Himself spent money
on food, clothing, and other things. We do
not want to fall into the gnostic error here
by classifying the material world as below
our esteem. Food, clothing, shelter, medical
care, education, and other things are well
worth our consideration. So then, how should
this million dollars be allocated among these
needs? The repetitiveness, volume, or tone
of requests for funding of these various needs
is a poor substitute for the test applied by
the market. That is, for which of these needs
are people willing to sacrifice the most “other
goods” to satisfy the need? That essential
clue is provided by profit.
Even charitable efforts are directed by profit,
to some extent. Charitable assistance being
what it is, it is not sold and has no profit
associated with it directly. However, the price
system and profits inform the donor about which
goods and services are in the shortest supply
and thus which goods and services would do
the most good if donated.
Paradoxically, “nonprofit organizations” rely
on profits, of a kind. Let’s suppose
a group of people organized as a nonprofit
are in the business of selling a magazine,
running a website, and publishing books. Suppose
their revenues from magazine and book sales,
plus donations, exceed their costs of providing
the magazines, books, and website. This is
actually a profit, but the difference lies
in how it is handled. It does not go to a business
owner or shareholders. There is no one who
can claim what is leftover after expenses have
been paid. The leftover — the profit — must
remain under the management of those who guide
the company, but this money still serves as
a signal to those managers. Those services
that provide the largest excess of revenues
over costs will tend to be favored by the managers,
as the excess shows that the consumers value
that particular output of the nonprofit. If
the revenues that result from the magazine,
books, and donations do not cover the costs
of providing the nonprofit’s services,
the amount of assets under the nonprofit’s
control will decline, and the organization
will eventually fold.
Those who say they prefer a world without
profit are asking for a world of chaos, a world
without coordination, a world in which Christian
stewardship is severely hindered. There is
certainly nothing ethically superior about
low profits or nonprofits, and, as I see it,
those who would like to make “profiteering” a
sin have no Biblical basis for doing so.
Timothy Terrell teaches economics at a small college in South Carolina.
He is also director of the Center for Biblical Law and Economics, on the Internet http://www.christ-college.edu/html/cble/.
Dr. Terrell can be contacted at terrelltd@wofford.edu.
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