In the eyes of Mālik’s disciples—and, in brief, of the school as a whole—the wage-earner who has sold the benefit of his labour is treated by analogy with a vendor who sells a usufruct rather than the very substance of the property. At one time they liken the benefit he has already produced to merchandise that the purchaser has not yet taken possession of, and they therefore say that he has first claim to it in both death and bankruptcy. At another time they compare it to goods that have left the seller’s hand but are still extant, and then they say that he has priority in bankruptcy but not in death. At yet another time they treat it as though the goods had perished through the death of the debtor, and in that case they say that he stands on the same footing as the rest of the creditors.

An illustration is their disagreement over a man hired to irrigate an orchard: he waters it until the trees bear fruit, after which the employer becomes insolvent. On this they give three different rulings.

The attempt in this chapter to assimilate the sale of usufruct to the sale of the corpus is, as far as I can determine, a view unique to Mālik among the jurists of the regions, and it is weak; for an analogy that rests on a mere resemblance drawn from a case that departs from established principles is inherently fragile. For the same reason some scholars regard analogising on the basis of concessions as weak. Still, a causal analogy can be formulated here, and that is stronger; the Mālikīs may well claim that this rationale underlies their position. In any event, the details do not befit this abridgement.

Under the same heading falls their disagreement about an insolvent slave who has been authorised to trade: should the debt be pursued against his person—that is, by selling him—or not? Mālik and the scholars of the Hijaz hold that liability attaches only to what is in his hand, not to his person; if he is later emancipated he becomes liable for whatever remains. Some jurists say he must be sold. Others maintain that the creditors may choose between selling him and allowing him to work off the balance of the debt; this is the view of Shurayḥ. Yet another group say that the debt rests on his master even if the master did not stipulate it.

Those who reject selling him argue that people dealt with him solely on the basis of the property he possessed, so he resembles a free man. Those who permit his sale liken the case to offenses for which he himself would be liable. As for those who refer the creditors to the master, they treat the slave’s property as the master’s property, since the master may seize it at will. The root of the disagreement, then, is the collision of competing analogies of similarity.

In the same vein is the question: if both slave and master are bankrupt, whose debts are settled first—the slave’s or the master’s? The majority answer: the slave’s debts, because those who lent to him relied on the wealth they saw in his possession, whereas those who lent to the master did not take the slave’s assets into account. Those who give precedence to the master reply that the slave’s property in reality belongs to the master. The dispute revolves around whether the slave’s property should be treated as that of an independent party or as part of the master’s estate.

As for how much of his property is left to the bankrupt himself, one opinion in the school says that he is allowed what he, his family, and his small children need to live on for a few days. Al-Wāḍiḥa and al-ʿUtbiyya extend this to about a month and allow him clothing appropriate to his station. Mālik hesitated with regard to his wife’s clothing, unsure whether it is owed to her in return for a consideration already received—namely, his enjoyment of her—or without consideration. Sahnūn said that her clothing is not to be left to him. Ibn Nāfiʿ reported from Mālik that the bankrupt is left only what covers his nakedness, and Ibn Kinānah said the same.