The different factors in the labour-process take different parts in forming the value of the product.
The worker adds new value to the thing he works on by adding a definite amount of labour, whatever the content, aim, or technical character of that labour may be. On the other side, the values of the used-up means of production show up again as parts of the product's value: the values of cotton and spindle, for example, in the value of the yarn. So the value of the means of production is preserved by being transferred to the product. This transfer happens while the means of production are being turned into the product, in the labour-process. Labour makes this transfer happen. But how?
The worker does not work twice in the same time: not once to add value to the cotton by his labour, and then again to preserve its old value, or what is the same thing, to transfer the value of the cotton he works up and the spindle he works with to the product, the yarn. Rather, simply by adding new value, he preserves the old value.
But adding new value to the object worked on and preserving old values in the product are two quite different results, even though the worker produces them in the same time and works only once in that time. So this two-sided result can plainly be explained only by the two-sidedness of the labour itself. At the same moment, labour must create value in one capacity and preserve or transfer value in another.
How does any worker add labour-time, and therefore value? Only by doing a particular kind of work: the spinner spins, the weaver weaves, the smith forges. Because the work has that useful shape, it turns means of production into a new useful thing: cotton and spindle become yarn, yarn and loom become cloth, iron and anvil become something forged. The old useful shape disappears so it can enter a new useful shape.
When a useful thing is properly used up to make a new useful thing, the labour-time needed to make the used-up thing counts as part of the labour-time needed to make the new one. That labour-time is carried over from the used-up means of production to the new product. So the worker preserves the value of the used-up means of production, or transfers it into the product, not by adding labour in general, but by adding labour in a particular useful form.
As spinning, weaving, or forging, labour brings the means of production into the labour-process and joins with them in products.
If the worker's specific productive labour were not spinning, he would not turn cotton into yarn, and so would not transfer the values of cotton and spindle to the yarn. But if the same worker changes trade and becomes a joiner, he still adds value to his material by a day's work. So he adds value through his labour not insofar as it is spinning or joinery, but insofar as it is abstract, social labour in general. And he adds a definite amount of value not because his labour has a particular useful content, but because it lasts a definite time.
In its abstract, general capacity, then, as expenditure of human labour-power, the spinner's labour adds new value to the values of cotton and spindle. In its concrete, particular, useful capacity as a spinning process, it transfers the value of those means of production to the product and so preserves their value in the product. That is why the labour has a two-sided result at the same moment.
By the merely quantitative addition of labour, new value is added. By the quality of the added labour, the old values of the means of production are preserved in the product. This two-sided effect of the same labour, because of its two-sided character, shows itself clearly in several phenomena.
Suppose some invention enables the spinner to spin as much cotton in 6 hours as he formerly spun in 36. As useful, productive activity, his labour has become six times as powerful. Its product is sixfold: 36 pounds of yarn instead of 6. But the 36 pounds of cotton now soak up only as much labour-time as 6 pounds did before. Six times less new labour is added to each pound than under the old method, and so only one-sixth of the former value.
On the other side, the sixfold value of cotton now exists in the product, the 36 pounds of yarn. In the 6 spinning hours, a six times greater value of raw material is preserved and transferred to the product, even though a six times smaller new value is added to the same raw material. This shows how the capacity in which labour preserves value during the same indivisible process is essentially different from the capacity in which it creates value. The more necessary labour-time that goes into the same amount of cotton during spinning, the greater the new value added to the cotton; but the more pounds of cotton spun in the same labour-time, the greater the old value preserved in the product.
Now suppose the opposite: the productive power of spinning labour stays unchanged, so the spinner still needs the same time as before to turn one pound of cotton into yarn. But the exchange-value of the cotton itself changes: one pound of cotton rises to six times its price or falls to one-sixth of it. In both cases the spinner still adds the same labour-time to the same amount of cotton, and therefore the same value; and in both cases he produces the same amount of yarn in the same time. Yet the value he transfers from the cotton to the yarn, the product, is in one case six times smaller and in the other six times larger than before. The same holds when the instruments of labour become dearer or cheaper but keep doing the same service in the labour-process.
If the technical conditions of spinning stay unchanged, and if no change in value happens to its means of production, then the spinner continues to use up equal amounts of raw material and machinery of unchanged value in equal working-times. The value he preserves in the product then stands in direct proportion to the new value he adds. In two weeks he adds twice as much labour as in one week, and therefore twice as much value. At the same time, he uses up twice as much material of twice the value and wears out twice as much machinery of twice the value, so he preserves twice as much value in the two-week product as in the one-week product.
Under given and unchanged conditions of production, the worker preserves more value the more value he adds. But he does not preserve more value because he adds more value. He preserves it because he adds the value under unchanged conditions, conditions independent of his own labour.
In a relative sense, of course, it can be said that the worker always preserves old values in the same proportion in which he adds new value. Whether cotton rises from 1 shilling to 2 shillings, or falls to 6 pence, he always preserves in the product of one hour only half as much cotton-value, whatever that value may be, as in the product of two hours. If the productive power of his own labour changes, rising or falling, he will spin more or less cotton in one working hour than before, and will therefore preserve more or less cotton-value in the product of one hour. Even so, he will preserve twice as much value in two working hours as in one.
Leave aside tokens that only stand for value. Value exists only in a use-value, in some useful thing. Labour-power too exists in a human being, a living, self-aware thing, and labour is that power being put to work. So if the useful thing is lost, its value is lost too.
Means of production do not lose their value at the same moment they lose their old useful shape. In the labour-process, they lose that old shape only by taking on a new useful shape in the product. Value has to be in some use-value, but it does not matter which one.
So, in the labour-process, value passes from a means of production to the product only as that means of production loses its own separate use-value and exchange-value. It gives the product only the value it loses as a means of production. The different things used in the labour-process behave differently here.
The coal used to heat the machine disappears without a trace, and so does the oil used to grease the axle of the wheel. Dye and other auxiliary materials disappear too, but show up in the properties of the product. Raw material forms the substance of the product, but in a changed form. So raw material and auxiliary materials lose the independent shape in which they entered the labour-process as use-values.
The actual instruments of labour are different. An instrument, a machine, a factory building, a vessel, and so on serve in the labour-process only as long as they keep their original shape and can enter tomorrow's labour-process in the same form as yesterday. As they keep their independent shape over against the product during their life, the labour-process, so they keep it after their death. The corpses of machines, tools, work-buildings, and the like still exist apart from the products they helped form.
Now take the whole period during which such an instrument of labour serves, from the day it enters the workshop to the day it is banished to the lumber room. During that period its use-value has been completely consumed by labour, and therefore its exchange-value has passed completely to the product. If a spinning machine, for example, has lived itself out in 10 years, then during the 10-year labour-process its whole value has passed to the 10-year product. The life-period of an instrument of labour therefore covers a larger or smaller number of labour-processes repeated over and over with it.
And the instrument of labour is like a human being. Every human being dies off daily by 24 hours, but by looking at someone you cannot tell exactly how many days of life have already been used up. That does not stop life insurance companies from drawing very secure, and, what is far more important, highly profitable, conclusions from the average life of human beings. So it is with instruments of labour. Experience tells how long, on average, an instrument of labour, say a machine of a certain kind, lasts. Suppose its use-value in the labour-process lasts only 6 days. Then, on average, it loses one-sixth of its use-value each working day, and therefore gives one-sixth of its value to the daily product. In this way the wear of all instruments of labour is calculated: their daily loss of use-value and the corresponding daily giving-up of value to the product.
So a means of production never gives the product more value than it loses when its own use-value is used up. If it has no value to lose, because no human labour produced it, it gives no value to the product. It helps make the new useful thing, but it does not help make exchange-value. That is true of means of production found in nature without human help: land, wind, water, iron in the ore seam, timber in the virgin forest, and so on.
Now take another case. Suppose a machine is worth 1,000 pounds sterling and wears out over 1,000 days. Each day, one one-thousandth of its value passes into that day's product. But the whole machine is still working in the labour-process, even as it wears down.
So the same machine enters the labour-process as a whole machine, but enters capital's value-growth only a piece at a time. In making the product, the whole machine is needed. In forming value, only the worn-out slice of its value counts that day.
Conversely, a means of production can enter the process of value-growth as a whole, even though it enters the labour-process only bit by bit. Suppose that, in spinning cotton, 15 pounds out of every 115 pounds fall away each day and form no yarn, only devil's dust. Even so, if this waste of 15 pounds is normal and inseparable from the average processing of cotton, then the value of the 15 pounds of cotton that form no part of the yarn enters the value of the yarn just as much as the value of the 100 pounds that form its substance.
The use-value of 15 pounds of cotton has to turn to dust in order to make 100 pounds of yarn. The destruction of this cotton is therefore a condition of producing the yarn. For that very reason it gives its value to the yarn. This holds for all waste products of the labour-process, at least to the extent that these waste products do not themselves again form new means of production and therefore new independent use-values. In the great machine factories of Manchester, for example, mountains of iron scraps, shaved off by giant machines like wood shavings, can be seen moving out of the factory in large wagons in the evening to the iron foundry, only to move back the next day from the foundry to the factory as solid iron.
Means of production transfer value to the new shape of the product only insofar as, during the labour-process, they lose value in the shape of their old use-values. The maximum value-loss they can suffer in the labour-process is plainly limited by the original amount of value with which they enter it, or by the labour-time required for their own production. Means of production can therefore never pass on to the product more value than they possess independently of the labour-process they serve.
However useful a working material, a machine, or any means of production may be, if it costs 150 pounds sterling, say 500 working days, it never passes more than 150 pounds sterling to the total product whose formation it serves. Its value is determined not by the labour-process into which it enters as a means of production, but by the labour-process out of which it comes as a product. In the labour-process it serves only as a use-value, a thing with useful properties, and therefore would give no value to the product if it had not possessed value before entering the process.
As productive labour turns means of production into formative elements of a new product, their value undergoes a kind of soul-migration. It leaves the consumed body and passes into the newly formed body. But this migration happens, so to speak, behind the back of actual labour.
The worker cannot add new labour, and therefore cannot create new value, without preserving old values, because he must always add the labour in a definite useful form. And he cannot add it in a useful form without making products into means of production of a new product and thereby transferring their value to the new product.
So it is a natural gift of labour-power in action, of living labour, to preserve value while it adds value: a natural gift that costs the worker nothing but brings the capitalist a great deal, the preservation of existing capital-value. As long as business is going well, the capitalist is too absorbed in his money-making to see this free gift of labour. Violent interruptions of the labour-process, crises, make him painfully aware of it.
What labour uses up in the means of production is their use-value. By using that use-value, labour forms products. Their value is not actually consumed, so it cannot be reproduced. It is preserved, not because anything is done to the value itself, but because the old useful thing disappears only into another useful thing.
So the value of the means of production appears again in the value of the product. Strictly speaking, it is not reproduced. What is produced is the new use-value in which the old exchange-value appears again.
Labour-power in action is different. Labour's useful form carries the value of the means of production into the product and preserves it. At the same time, every moment of labour creates additional value, new value.
Suppose production stops at the point where the worker has produced an equivalent for the value of his own labour-power, say 3 shillings in 6 hours. This 3 shillings is the part of the product's value left after the means-of-production parts are counted. It is the only new value that arose inside this process.
Of course, it only replaces the money the capitalist advanced to buy labour-power, money the worker then spent on means of subsistence. Compared with that 3 shillings spent, the new value of 3 shillings appears only as reproduction. But it is really reproduced, not merely reappearing like the value of the means of production. One value is replaced by another through the creation of new value.
We already know, however, that the labour-process continues beyond the point where a mere equivalent for the value of labour-power would be reproduced and added to the object worked on. Instead of the 6 hours sufficient for this, the process lasts, for example, 12 hours. Through the action of labour-power, then, not only is its own value reproduced, but a surplus value is produced. This surplus-value forms the excess of the product's value over the value of the consumed formative elements of the product: the means of production and labour-power.
We have now described what each factor in the labour-process does in forming the product's value. That also describes what each part of capital does as capital grows in value.
If the product is worth more than the things used to make it, then the capital has grown beyond the value first advanced. Means of production and labour-power are the two forms that the original value took after it left the money-form and entered the labour-process.
The part of capital that is converted into means of production, that is, into raw material, auxiliary materials, and instruments of labour, does not change the amount of its value in the production process. I therefore call it the constant part of capital, or more briefly, constant capital.
By contrast, the part of capital converted into labour-power changes its value in the production process. It reproduces its own equivalent and an excess over that equivalent, surplus-value, which can itself change, becoming larger or smaller. This part of capital continually transforms itself from a constant amount into a variable one. I therefore call it the variable part of capital, or more briefly, variable capital.
The same parts of capital can be sorted in two ways. In the labour-process, they are the things used to make the product and the labour-power doing the work. In the process where capital grows in value, they are constant capital and variable capital.
The concept of constant capital in no way rules out a change in the value of its components. Suppose a pound of cotton costs 6 pence today and rises tomorrow, because of a failed cotton harvest, to 1 shilling. The old cotton, which continues to be worked up, was bought at 6 pence, but now passes a value-part of 1 shilling to the product. And the cotton already spun, perhaps already circulating on the market as yarn, likewise passes on twice its original value.
It is clear, however, that these changes in value are independent of the value-growth of the cotton in the spinning process itself. If the old cotton had not entered the labour-process at all, it could now be resold for 1 shilling instead of 6 pence. Conversely, the fewer labour-processes it has already passed through, the surer this result is. It is therefore a law of speculation, in such value-revolutions, to speculate on the raw material in its least worked-up form: on yarn rather than cloth, and on cotton itself rather than yarn.
The change in value arises here in the process that produces cotton, not in the process where cotton functions as a means of production and therefore as constant capital. The value of a commodity is indeed determined by the amount of labour contained in it, but that amount is itself socially determined. If the labour-time socially required for its production has changed, and the same amount of cotton represents more labour in a bad harvest than in a good one, then this has a backward effect on the old commodity. That old commodity always counts only as a single specimen of its kind, whose value is measured by socially necessary labour, and therefore by labour necessary under present social conditions.
As with the value of raw material, the value of instruments of labour already serving in the production process, such as machinery, can also change, and so can the value-part they give to the product. If, for example, a new invention allows machinery of the same kind to be reproduced with less labour spent, the old machinery loses more or less value and therefore transfers proportionally less value to the product. But here too the change in value arises outside the production process in which the machine functions as a means of production. In that process it never gives more value than it possesses independently of that process.
Just as a change in the value of the means of production, even one that works backward after they have already entered the process, does not change their character as constant capital, a change in the proportion between constant and variable capital likewise does not touch their functional difference.
The technical conditions of the labour-process may be transformed so that where 10 workers with 10 cheap tools once worked up a relatively small mass of raw material, now 1 worker with an expensive machine works up a hundred times as much raw material. In that case the constant capital, that is, the total value of the means of production used, would have grown greatly, and the variable part of capital, advanced in labour-power, would have fallen greatly.
But this change alters only the size relation between constant and variable capital, or the proportion in which total capital splits into constant and variable components. It does not touch the difference between constant and variable.
The different factors in the labour-process take different parts in forming the value of the product.
The worker adds new value to the thing he works on by adding a definite amount of labour, whatever the content, aim, or technical character of that labour may be. On the other side, the values of the used-up means of production show up again as parts of the product's value: the values of cotton and spindle, for example, in the value of the yarn. So the value of the means of production is preserved by being transferred to the product. This transfer happens while the means of production are being turned into the product, in the labour-process. Labour makes this transfer happen. But how?
The worker does not work twice in the same time: not once to add value to the cotton by his labour, and then again to preserve its old value, or what is the same thing, to transfer the value of the cotton he works up and the spindle he works with to the product, the yarn. Rather, simply by adding new value, he preserves the old value.
But adding new value to the object worked on and preserving old values in the product are two quite different results, even though the worker produces them in the same time and works only once in that time. So this two-sided result can plainly be explained only by the two-sidedness of the labour itself. At the same moment, labour must create value in one capacity and preserve or transfer value in another.
How does any worker add labour-time, and therefore value? Only by doing a particular kind of work: the spinner spins, the weaver weaves, the smith forges. Because the work has that useful shape, it turns means of production into a new useful thing: cotton and spindle become yarn, yarn and loom become cloth, iron and anvil become something forged. The old useful shape disappears so it can enter a new useful shape.
When a useful thing is properly used up to make a new useful thing, the labour-time needed to make the used-up thing counts as part of the labour-time needed to make the new one. That labour-time is carried over from the used-up means of production to the new product. So the worker preserves the value of the used-up means of production, or transfers it into the product, not by adding labour in general, but by adding labour in a particular useful form.
As spinning, weaving, or forging, labour brings the means of production into the labour-process and joins with them in products.
If the worker's specific productive labour were not spinning, he would not turn cotton into yarn, and so would not transfer the values of cotton and spindle to the yarn. But if the same worker changes trade and becomes a joiner, he still adds value to his material by a day's work. So he adds value through his labour not insofar as it is spinning or joinery, but insofar as it is abstract, social labour in general. And he adds a definite amount of value not because his labour has a particular useful content, but because it lasts a definite time.
In its abstract, general capacity, then, as expenditure of human labour-power, the spinner's labour adds new value to the values of cotton and spindle. In its concrete, particular, useful capacity as a spinning process, it transfers the value of those means of production to the product and so preserves their value in the product. That is why the labour has a two-sided result at the same moment.
By the merely quantitative addition of labour, new value is added. By the quality of the added labour, the old values of the means of production are preserved in the product. This two-sided effect of the same labour, because of its two-sided character, shows itself clearly in several phenomena.
Suppose some invention enables the spinner to spin as much cotton in 6 hours as he formerly spun in 36. As useful, productive activity, his labour has become six times as powerful. Its product is sixfold: 36 pounds of yarn instead of 6. But the 36 pounds of cotton now soak up only as much labour-time as 6 pounds did before. Six times less new labour is added to each pound than under the old method, and so only one-sixth of the former value.
On the other side, the sixfold value of cotton now exists in the product, the 36 pounds of yarn. In the 6 spinning hours, a six times greater value of raw material is preserved and transferred to the product, even though a six times smaller new value is added to the same raw material. This shows how the capacity in which labour preserves value during the same indivisible process is essentially different from the capacity in which it creates value. The more necessary labour-time that goes into the same amount of cotton during spinning, the greater the new value added to the cotton; but the more pounds of cotton spun in the same labour-time, the greater the old value preserved in the product.
Now suppose the opposite: the productive power of spinning labour stays unchanged, so the spinner still needs the same time as before to turn one pound of cotton into yarn. But the exchange-value of the cotton itself changes: one pound of cotton rises to six times its price or falls to one-sixth of it. In both cases the spinner still adds the same labour-time to the same amount of cotton, and therefore the same value; and in both cases he produces the same amount of yarn in the same time. Yet the value he transfers from the cotton to the yarn, the product, is in one case six times smaller and in the other six times larger than before. The same holds when the instruments of labour become dearer or cheaper but keep doing the same service in the labour-process.
If the technical conditions of spinning stay unchanged, and if no change in value happens to its means of production, then the spinner continues to use up equal amounts of raw material and machinery of unchanged value in equal working-times. The value he preserves in the product then stands in direct proportion to the new value he adds. In two weeks he adds twice as much labour as in one week, and therefore twice as much value. At the same time, he uses up twice as much material of twice the value and wears out twice as much machinery of twice the value, so he preserves twice as much value in the two-week product as in the one-week product.
Under given and unchanged conditions of production, the worker preserves more value the more value he adds. But he does not preserve more value because he adds more value. He preserves it because he adds the value under unchanged conditions, conditions independent of his own labour.
In a relative sense, of course, it can be said that the worker always preserves old values in the same proportion in which he adds new value. Whether cotton rises from 1 shilling to 2 shillings, or falls to 6 pence, he always preserves in the product of one hour only half as much cotton-value, whatever that value may be, as in the product of two hours. If the productive power of his own labour changes, rising or falling, he will spin more or less cotton in one working hour than before, and will therefore preserve more or less cotton-value in the product of one hour. Even so, he will preserve twice as much value in two working hours as in one.
Leave aside tokens that only stand for value. Value exists only in a use-value, in some useful thing. Labour-power too exists in a human being, a living, self-aware thing, and labour is that power being put to work. So if the useful thing is lost, its value is lost too.
Means of production do not lose their value at the same moment they lose their old useful shape. In the labour-process, they lose that old shape only by taking on a new useful shape in the product. Value has to be in some use-value, but it does not matter which one.
So, in the labour-process, value passes from a means of production to the product only as that means of production loses its own separate use-value and exchange-value. It gives the product only the value it loses as a means of production. The different things used in the labour-process behave differently here.
The coal used to heat the machine disappears without a trace, and so does the oil used to grease the axle of the wheel. Dye and other auxiliary materials disappear too, but show up in the properties of the product. Raw material forms the substance of the product, but in a changed form. So raw material and auxiliary materials lose the independent shape in which they entered the labour-process as use-values.
The actual instruments of labour are different. An instrument, a machine, a factory building, a vessel, and so on serve in the labour-process only as long as they keep their original shape and can enter tomorrow's labour-process in the same form as yesterday. As they keep their independent shape over against the product during their life, the labour-process, so they keep it after their death. The corpses of machines, tools, work-buildings, and the like still exist apart from the products they helped form.
Now take the whole period during which such an instrument of labour serves, from the day it enters the workshop to the day it is banished to the lumber room. During that period its use-value has been completely consumed by labour, and therefore its exchange-value has passed completely to the product. If a spinning machine, for example, has lived itself out in 10 years, then during the 10-year labour-process its whole value has passed to the 10-year product. The life-period of an instrument of labour therefore covers a larger or smaller number of labour-processes repeated over and over with it.
And the instrument of labour is like a human being. Every human being dies off daily by 24 hours, but by looking at someone you cannot tell exactly how many days of life have already been used up. That does not stop life insurance companies from drawing very secure, and, what is far more important, highly profitable, conclusions from the average life of human beings. So it is with instruments of labour. Experience tells how long, on average, an instrument of labour, say a machine of a certain kind, lasts. Suppose its use-value in the labour-process lasts only 6 days. Then, on average, it loses one-sixth of its use-value each working day, and therefore gives one-sixth of its value to the daily product. In this way the wear of all instruments of labour is calculated: their daily loss of use-value and the corresponding daily giving-up of value to the product.
So a means of production never gives the product more value than it loses when its own use-value is used up. If it has no value to lose, because no human labour produced it, it gives no value to the product. It helps make the new useful thing, but it does not help make exchange-value. That is true of means of production found in nature without human help: land, wind, water, iron in the ore seam, timber in the virgin forest, and so on.
Now take another case. Suppose a machine is worth 1,000 pounds sterling and wears out over 1,000 days. Each day, one one-thousandth of its value passes into that day's product. But the whole machine is still working in the labour-process, even as it wears down.
So the same machine enters the labour-process as a whole machine, but enters capital's value-growth only a piece at a time. In making the product, the whole machine is needed. In forming value, only the worn-out slice of its value counts that day.
Conversely, a means of production can enter the process of value-growth as a whole, even though it enters the labour-process only bit by bit. Suppose that, in spinning cotton, 15 pounds out of every 115 pounds fall away each day and form no yarn, only devil's dust. Even so, if this waste of 15 pounds is normal and inseparable from the average processing of cotton, then the value of the 15 pounds of cotton that form no part of the yarn enters the value of the yarn just as much as the value of the 100 pounds that form its substance.
The use-value of 15 pounds of cotton has to turn to dust in order to make 100 pounds of yarn. The destruction of this cotton is therefore a condition of producing the yarn. For that very reason it gives its value to the yarn. This holds for all waste products of the labour-process, at least to the extent that these waste products do not themselves again form new means of production and therefore new independent use-values. In the great machine factories of Manchester, for example, mountains of iron scraps, shaved off by giant machines like wood shavings, can be seen moving out of the factory in large wagons in the evening to the iron foundry, only to move back the next day from the foundry to the factory as solid iron.
Means of production transfer value to the new shape of the product only insofar as, during the labour-process, they lose value in the shape of their old use-values. The maximum value-loss they can suffer in the labour-process is plainly limited by the original amount of value with which they enter it, or by the labour-time required for their own production. Means of production can therefore never pass on to the product more value than they possess independently of the labour-process they serve.
However useful a working material, a machine, or any means of production may be, if it costs 150 pounds sterling, say 500 working days, it never passes more than 150 pounds sterling to the total product whose formation it serves. Its value is determined not by the labour-process into which it enters as a means of production, but by the labour-process out of which it comes as a product. In the labour-process it serves only as a use-value, a thing with useful properties, and therefore would give no value to the product if it had not possessed value before entering the process.
As productive labour turns means of production into formative elements of a new product, their value undergoes a kind of soul-migration. It leaves the consumed body and passes into the newly formed body. But this migration happens, so to speak, behind the back of actual labour.
The worker cannot add new labour, and therefore cannot create new value, without preserving old values, because he must always add the labour in a definite useful form. And he cannot add it in a useful form without making products into means of production of a new product and thereby transferring their value to the new product.
So it is a natural gift of labour-power in action, of living labour, to preserve value while it adds value: a natural gift that costs the worker nothing but brings the capitalist a great deal, the preservation of existing capital-value. As long as business is going well, the capitalist is too absorbed in his money-making to see this free gift of labour. Violent interruptions of the labour-process, crises, make him painfully aware of it.
What labour uses up in the means of production is their use-value. By using that use-value, labour forms products. Their value is not actually consumed, so it cannot be reproduced. It is preserved, not because anything is done to the value itself, but because the old useful thing disappears only into another useful thing.
So the value of the means of production appears again in the value of the product. Strictly speaking, it is not reproduced. What is produced is the new use-value in which the old exchange-value appears again.
Labour-power in action is different. Labour's useful form carries the value of the means of production into the product and preserves it. At the same time, every moment of labour creates additional value, new value.
Suppose production stops at the point where the worker has produced an equivalent for the value of his own labour-power, say 3 shillings in 6 hours. This 3 shillings is the part of the product's value left after the means-of-production parts are counted. It is the only new value that arose inside this process.
Of course, it only replaces the money the capitalist advanced to buy labour-power, money the worker then spent on means of subsistence. Compared with that 3 shillings spent, the new value of 3 shillings appears only as reproduction. But it is really reproduced, not merely reappearing like the value of the means of production. One value is replaced by another through the creation of new value.
We already know, however, that the labour-process continues beyond the point where a mere equivalent for the value of labour-power would be reproduced and added to the object worked on. Instead of the 6 hours sufficient for this, the process lasts, for example, 12 hours. Through the action of labour-power, then, not only is its own value reproduced, but a surplus value is produced. This surplus-value forms the excess of the product's value over the value of the consumed formative elements of the product: the means of production and labour-power.
We have now described what each factor in the labour-process does in forming the product's value. That also describes what each part of capital does as capital grows in value.
If the product is worth more than the things used to make it, then the capital has grown beyond the value first advanced. Means of production and labour-power are the two forms that the original value took after it left the money-form and entered the labour-process.
The part of capital that is converted into means of production, that is, into raw material, auxiliary materials, and instruments of labour, does not change the amount of its value in the production process. I therefore call it the constant part of capital, or more briefly, constant capital.
By contrast, the part of capital converted into labour-power changes its value in the production process. It reproduces its own equivalent and an excess over that equivalent, surplus-value, which can itself change, becoming larger or smaller. This part of capital continually transforms itself from a constant amount into a variable one. I therefore call it the variable part of capital, or more briefly, variable capital.
The same parts of capital can be sorted in two ways. In the labour-process, they are the things used to make the product and the labour-power doing the work. In the process where capital grows in value, they are constant capital and variable capital.
The concept of constant capital in no way rules out a change in the value of its components. Suppose a pound of cotton costs 6 pence today and rises tomorrow, because of a failed cotton harvest, to 1 shilling. The old cotton, which continues to be worked up, was bought at 6 pence, but now passes a value-part of 1 shilling to the product. And the cotton already spun, perhaps already circulating on the market as yarn, likewise passes on twice its original value.
It is clear, however, that these changes in value are independent of the value-growth of the cotton in the spinning process itself. If the old cotton had not entered the labour-process at all, it could now be resold for 1 shilling instead of 6 pence. Conversely, the fewer labour-processes it has already passed through, the surer this result is. It is therefore a law of speculation, in such value-revolutions, to speculate on the raw material in its least worked-up form: on yarn rather than cloth, and on cotton itself rather than yarn.
The change in value arises here in the process that produces cotton, not in the process where cotton functions as a means of production and therefore as constant capital. The value of a commodity is indeed determined by the amount of labour contained in it, but that amount is itself socially determined. If the labour-time socially required for its production has changed, and the same amount of cotton represents more labour in a bad harvest than in a good one, then this has a backward effect on the old commodity. That old commodity always counts only as a single specimen of its kind, whose value is measured by socially necessary labour, and therefore by labour necessary under present social conditions.
As with the value of raw material, the value of instruments of labour already serving in the production process, such as machinery, can also change, and so can the value-part they give to the product. If, for example, a new invention allows machinery of the same kind to be reproduced with less labour spent, the old machinery loses more or less value and therefore transfers proportionally less value to the product. But here too the change in value arises outside the production process in which the machine functions as a means of production. In that process it never gives more value than it possesses independently of that process.
Just as a change in the value of the means of production, even one that works backward after they have already entered the process, does not change their character as constant capital, a change in the proportion between constant and variable capital likewise does not touch their functional difference.
The technical conditions of the labour-process may be transformed so that where 10 workers with 10 cheap tools once worked up a relatively small mass of raw material, now 1 worker with an expensive machine works up a hundred times as much raw material. In that case the constant capital, that is, the total value of the means of production used, would have grown greatly, and the variable part of capital, advanced in labour-power, would have fallen greatly.
But this change alters only the size relation between constant and variable capital, or the proportion in which total capital splits into constant and variable components. It does not touch the difference between constant and variable.