PART I

Produced by Rick Niles, Karen Dalrymple, and the Online Distributed

Proofreading Team.

PSYCHOLOGY AND

INDUSTRIAL EFFICIENCY

BY

HUGO MÜNSTERBERG

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

The Riverside Press Cambridge

1913

TO

HAROLD F. McCORMICK

PREFATORY NOTE

This book corresponds to a German book, which I published a few months

ago, under the title _Psychologie und Wirlschaftsleben: Ein Beitrag

zur angewandten Experimental-Psychologie_ (Leipzig: J.A. Barth). It is

not a translation, as some parts of the German volume have been

abbreviated or entirely omitted and other parts have been enlarged and

supplemented. Yet the essential substance of the two books is

identical.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

I. APPLIED PSYCHOLOGY

II. THE DEMANDS OF PRACTICAL LIFE

III. MEANS AND ENDS

I. THE BEST POSSIBLE MAN

IV. VOCATION AND FITNESS

V. SCIENTIFIC VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE

VI. SCIENTIFIC MANAGEMENT

VII. THE METHODS OF EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY

VIII. EXPERIMENTS IN THE INTEREST OF ELECTRIC RAILWAY SERVICE

IX. EXPERIMENTS IN THE INTEREST OF SHIP SERVICE

X. EXPERIMENTS IN THE INTEREST OF TELEPHONE SERVICE

XI. CONTRIBUTIONS FROM MEN OF AFFAIRS

XII. INDIVIDUALS AND GROUPS

II. THE BEST POSSIBLE WORK

XIII. LEARNING AND TRAINING

XIV. THE ADJUSTMENT OF TECHNICAL TO PSYCHICAL CONDITIONS

XV. THE ECONOMY OF MOVEMENT

XVI. EXPERIMENTS ON THE PROBLEM OF MONOTONY

XVII. ATTENTION AND FATIGUE

XVIII. PHYSICAL AND SOCIAL INFLUENCES ON THE WORKING POWER

III. THE BEST POSSIBLE EFFECT

XIX. THE SATISFACTION OF ECONOMIC DEMANDS

XX. EXPERIMENTS ON THE EFFECTS OF ADVERTISEMENTS

XXI. THE EFFECT OF DISPLAY

XXII. EXPERIMENTS WITH REFERENCE TO ILLEGAL IMITATION

XXIII. BUYING AND SELLING

XXIV. THE FUTURE DEVELOPMENT OF ECONOMIC PSYCHOLOGY

NOTES

INDEX

PSYCHOLOGY AND INDUSTRIAL EFFICIENCY

INTRODUCTION

I

APPLIED PSYCHOLOGY

Our aim is to sketch the outlines of a new science which is to

intermediate between the modern laboratory psychology and the problems

of economics: the psychological experiment is systematically to be

placed at the service of commerce and industry. So far we have only

scattered beginnings of the new doctrine, only tentative efforts and

disconnected attempts which have started, sometimes in economic, and

sometimes in psychological, quarters. The time when an exact

psychology of business life will be presented as a closed and

perfected system lies very far distant. But the earlier the attention

of wider circles is directed to its beginnings and to the importance

and bearings of its tasks, the quicker and the more sound will be the

development of this young science. What is most needed to-day at the

beginning of the new movement are clear, concrete illustrations which

demonstrate the possibilities of the new method. In the following

pages, accordingly, it will be my aim to analyze the results of

experiments which have actually been carried out, experiments

belonging to many different spheres of economic life. But these

detached experiments ought always at least to point to a connected

whole; the single experiments will, therefore, always need a general

discussion of the principles as a background. In the interest of such

a wider perspective we may at first enter into some preparatory

questions of theory. They may serve as an introduction which is to

lead us to the actual economic life and the present achievements of

experimental psychology.

It is well known that the modern psychologists only slowly and very

reluctantly approached the apparently natural task of rendering useful

service to practical life. As long as the study of the mind was

entirely dependent upon philosophical or theological speculation, no

help could be expected from such endeavors to assist in the daily

walks of life. But half a century has passed since the study of

consciousness was switched into the tracks of exact scientific

investigation. Five decades ago the psychologists began to devote

themselves to the most minute description of the mental experiences

and to explain the mental life in a way which was modeled after the

pattern of exact natural sciences. Their aim was no longer to

speculate about the soul, but to find the psychical elements and the

constant laws which control their connections. Psychology became

experimental and physiological. For more than thirty years the

psychologists have also had their workshops. Laboratories for

experimental psychology have grown up in all civilized countries, and

the new method has been applied to one group of mental traits after

another. And yet we stand before the surprising fact that all the

manifold results of the new science have remained book knowledge,

detached from any practical interests. Only in the last ten years do

we find systematic efforts to apply the experimental results of

psychology to the needs of society.

It is clear that the reason for this late beginning is not an

unwillingness of the last century to make theoretical knowledge

serviceable to the demands of life. Every one knows, on the contrary,

that the glorious advance of the natural sciences became at the same

time a triumphal march of technique. Whatever was brought to light in

the laboratories of the physicists and chemists, of the physiologists

and pathologists, was quickly transformed into achievements of

physical and chemical industry, of medicine and hygiene, of

agriculture and mining and transportation. No realm of the external

social life remained untouched. The scientists, on the other hand,

felt that the far-reaching practical effect which came from their

discoveries exerted a stimulating influence on the theoretical

researches themselves. The pure search for truth and knowledge was not

lowered when the electrical waves were harnessed for wireless

telegraphy, or the Roentgen rays were forced into the service of

surgery. The knowledge of nature and the mastery of nature have always

belonged together.

The persistent hesitation of the psychologists to make similar

practical use of their experimental results has therefore come from

different causes. The students of mental life evidently had the

feeling that quiet, undisturbed research was needed for the new

science of psychology in order that a certain maturity might be

reached before a contact with the turmoil of practical life would be

advisable. The sciences themselves cannot escape injury if their

results are forced into the rush of the day before the fundamental

ideas have been cleared up, the methods of investigation really tried,

and an ample supply of facts collected. But this very justified

reluctance becomes a real danger if it grows into an instinctive fear

of coming into contact at all with practical life. To be sure, in any

single case there may be a difference of opinion as to when the right

time has come and when the inner consolidation of a new science is

sufficiently advanced for the technical service, but it ought to be

clear that it is not wise to wait until the scientists have settled

all the theoretical problems involved. True progress in every

scientific field means that the problems become multiplied and that

ever new questions keep coming to the surface. If the psychologists

were to refrain from practical application until the theoretical

results of their laboratories need no supplement, the time for applied

psychology would never come. Whoever looks without prejudice on the

development of modern psychology ought to acknowledge that the

hesitancy which was justified in the beginning would to-day be

inexcusable lack of initiative. For the sciences of the mind too, the

time has come when theory and practice must support each other. An

exceedingly large mass of facts has been gathered, the methods have

become refined and differentiated, and however much may still be under

discussion, the ground common to all is ample enough to build upon.

Another important reason for the slowness of practical progress was

probably this. When the psychologists began to work with the new

experimental methods, their most immediate concern was to get rid of

mere speculation and to take hold of actual facts. Hence they regarded

the natural sciences as their model, and, together with the

experimental method which distinguishes scientific work, the

characteristic goal of the sciences was accepted too. This scientific

goal is always the attainment of general laws; and so it happened that

in the first decades after the foundation of psychological

laboratories the general laws of the mind absorbed the entire

attention and interest of the investigators. The result of such an

attitude was, that we learned to understand the working of the typical

mind, but that all the individual variations were almost neglected.

When the various individuals differed in their mental behavior, these

differences appeared almost as disturbances which the psychologists

had to eliminate in order to find the general laws which hold for

every mind. The studies were accordingly confined to the general

averages of mental experience, while the variations from such averages

were hardly included in the scientific account. In earlier centuries,

to be sure, the interest of the psychological observers had been given

almost entirely to the rich manifoldness of human characters and

intelligences and talents. In the new period of experimental work,

this interest was taken as an indication of the unscientific fancies

of the earlier age, in which the curious and the anecdotal attracted

the view. The new science which was to seek the laws was to overcome

such popular curiosity. In this sign experimental psychology has

conquered. The fundamental laws of the ideas and of the attention, of

the memory and of the will, of the feeling and of the emotions, have

been elaborated. Yet it slowly became evident that such one-sidedness,

however necessary it may have been at the beginning, would make any

practical application impossible. In practical life we never have to

do with what is common to all human beings, even when we are to

influence large masses; we have to deal with personalities whose

mental life is characterized by particular traits of nationality, or

race, or vocation, or sex, or age, or special interests, or other

features by which they differ from the average mind which the

theoretical psychologist may construct as a type. Still more

frequently we have to act with reference to smaller groups or to

single individuals whose mental physiognomy demands careful

consideration. As long as experimental psychology remained essentially

a science of the mental laws, common to all human beings, an

adjustment to the practical demands of daily life could hardly come in

question. With such general laws we could never have mastered the

concrete situations of society, because we should have had to leave

out of view the fact that there are gifted and ungifted, intelligent

and stupid, sensitive and obtuse, quick and slow, energetic and weak

individuals.

But in recent years a complete change can be traced in our science.

Experiments which refer to these individual differences themselves

have been carried on by means of the psychological laboratory, at

first reluctantly and in tentative forms, but within the last ten

years the movement has made rapid progress. To-day we have a

psychology of individual variations from the point of view of the

psychological laboratory.[1] This development of schemes to compare

the differences between the individuals by the methods of experimental

science was after all the most important advance toward the practical

application of psychology. The study of the individual differences

itself is not applied psychology, but it is the presupposition without

which applied psychology would have remained a phantom.

II

THE DEMANDS OF PRACTICAL LIFE

While in this way the progress of psychology itself and the

development of the psychology of individual differences favored the

growth of applied psychology, there arose at the same time an

increasing demand in the midst of practical life. Especially the

teachers and the physicians, later the lawyers as well, looked for

help from exact psychology. The science of education and instruction

had always had some contact with the science of the mind, as the

pedagogues could never forget that the mental development of the child

has to stand in the centre of educational thought. For a long while

pedagogy was still leaning on a philosophical psychology, after that

old-fashioned study of the soul had been given up in psychological

quarters. At last, in the days of progressive experimental psychology,

the time came when the teachers under the pressure of their new needs

began to inquire how far the modern laboratory could aid them in the

classroom. The pedagogical psychology of memory, of attention, of

will, and of intellect was systematically worked up by men with

practical school interests. We may notice in the movement a slow but

most important shifting. At first the results of theoretical

psychology were simply transplanted into the pedagogical field.

Experiments which were carried on in the interest of pure theoretical

science were made practical use of, but their application remained a

mere chance by-product. Only slowly did the pedagogical problems

themselves begin to determine the experimental investigation. The

methods of laboratory psychology were applied for the solving of those

problems which originated in the school experience, and only when this

point was reached could a truly experimental pedagogy be built on a

psychological foundation. We stand in the midst of this vigorous and

healthy movement, which has had a stimulating effect on theoretical

psychology itself.

We find a similar situation in the sphere of the physician. He could

not pass by the new science of the mind without instinctively feeling

that his medical diagnosis and therapy could be furthered in many

directions by the experimental method. Not only the psychiatrist and

nerve specialist, but in a certain sense every physician had made use

of a certain amount of psychology in his professional work. He had

always had to make clear to himself the mental experiences of the

patient, to study his pain sensations and his feelings of comfort,

his fears and his hopes, his perceptions and his volitions, and to a

certain degree he had always tried to influence the mental life of the

patient, to work on him by suggestion and to help him by stimulating

his mind. But as far as a real description and explanation of such

mental experiences came in question, all remained a dilettantic

semi-psychology which worked with the most trivial conceptions of

popular thinking. The medical men recognized the disproportion between

the exactitude of their anatomical, physiological, and pathological

observation and the superficiality of their self-made psychology. Thus

the desire arose in their own medical circle to harmonize their

psychological means of diagnosis and therapy with the schemes of

modern scientific psychology. The physician who examines the

sensations in a nervous disease, or the intelligence in a mental

disease, or heals by suggestion or hypnotism, tries to apply the

latest discoveries of the psychological laboratory. But here, too, the

same development as in pedagogy can be traced. The physicians at first

made use only of results which had been secured under entirely

different points of view, but later the experiments were subordinated

to the special medical problems. Then the physician was no longer

obliged simply to use what he happened to find among the results of

the theoretical psychologist, but carried on the experiments in the

service of medical problems. The independent status of experimental

medical psychology could be secured only by this development.

In somewhat narrower limits the same may be said as to the problems of

law. A kind of popular psychology was naturally involved whenever

judges or lawyers analyzed the experience on the witness stand or

discussed the motives of crime or the confessions of the criminal or

the social conditions of criminality. But when every day brought new

discoveries in the psychological laboratory, it seemed natural to make

use of the new methods and of the new results in the interest of the

courtroom. The power of observation in the witness, the exactitude of

his memory, the character of his illusions and imagination, his

suggestibility and his feeling, appeared in a new light in view of the

experimental investigations, and the emotions and volitions of the

criminal were understood with a new insight. Here, too, the last step

was taken. Instead of being satisfied with experiments which the

psychologist had made for his own purposes, the students of legal

psychology adjusted experiments to the particular needs of the

courtroom. Investigations were carried on to determine, the fidelity

of testimony or to find methods for the detection of hidden thoughts

and so on. Efforts toward the application of psychology have

accordingly grown up in the fields of pedagogy, medicine, and

jurisprudence, but as these studies naturally do not remain

independent of one another, they all together form the one unified

science of applied psychology.[2]

As soon as the independence of this new science was felt, it was

natural that new demands and new problems should continue to originate

within its own limits. There must be applied psychology wherever the

investigation of mental life can be made serviceable to the tasks of

civilization. Criminal law, education, medicine, certainly do not

constitute the totality of civilized life. It is therefore the duty of

the practical psychologist systematically to examine how far other

purposes of modern society can be advanced by the new methods of

experimental psychology. There is, for instance, already, far-reaching

agreement that the problems of artistic creation, of scientific

observation, of social reform, and many similar endeavors must be

acknowledged as organic parts of applied psychology. Only one group of

purposes is so far surprisingly neglected in the realm of the

psychological laboratory: the purposes of the economic life, the

purposes of commerce and industry, of business and the market in the

widest sense of the word. The question how far applied psychology can

be extended in this direction is the topic of the following

discussions.

III

MEANS AND ENDS

Applied psychology is evidently to be classed with the technical

sciences. It may be considered as psychotechnics, since we must

recognize any science as technical if it teaches us to apply

theoretical knowledge for the furtherance of human purposes. Like all

technical sciences, applied psychology tells us what we ought to do if

we want to reach certain ends; but we ought to realize at the

threshold where the limits of such a technical science lie, as they

are easily overlooked, with resulting confusion. We must understand

that every technical science says only: you must make use of this

means, if you wish to reach this or that particular end. But no

technical science can decide within its limits whether the end itself

is really a desirable one. The technical specialist knows how he ought

to build a bridge or how he ought to pierce a tunnel, presupposing

that the bridge or the tunnel is desired. But whether they are

desirable or not is a question which does not concern the technical

scientist, but which must be considered from economic or political or

other points, of view. Everywhere the engineer must know how to reach

an end, and must leave it to others to settle whether the end in

itself is desirable. Often the end may be a matter of course for every

reasonable being. The extreme case is presented by the applied science

of medicine, where the physician subordinates all his technique to the

end of curing the patient. Yet if we are consistent we must

acknowledge that all his medical knowledge can prescribe to him only

that he proceed in a certain way if the long life of the patient is

acknowledged as a desirable end. The application of anatomy,

physiology, and pathology may just as well be used for the opposite

end of killing a man. Whether it is wise to work toward long life, or

whether it is better to kill people, is again a problem which lies

outside the sphere of the applied sciences. Ethics or social

philosophy or religion have to solve these preliminary' questions. The

physician as such has only to deal with the means which lead toward

that goal.

We must make the same discrimination in the psychotechnical field. The

psychologist may point out the methods by which an involuntary

confession can be secured from a defendant, but whether it is

justifiable to extort involuntary confessions is a problem which does

not concern the psychologist. The lawyers or the legislators must

decide as to the right or wrong, the legality or illegality, of

forcing a man to show his bidden ideas. If such an end is desirable,

the psychotechnical student can determine the right means, and that is

the limit of his office. We ought to keep in mind that the same holds

true for the application of psychology in economic life. Economic

psychotechnics may serve certain ends of commerce and industry, but

whether these ends are the best ones is not a care with which the

psychologist has to be burdened. For instance, the end may be the

selection of the most efficient laborers for particular industries.

The psychologist may develop methods in his laboratory by which this

purpose can be fulfilled. But if some mills prefer another goal,--for

instance, to have not the most efficient but the cheapest possible

laborers,--entirely different means for the selection are necessary.

The psychologist is, therefore, not entangled in the economic

discussions of the day; it is not his concern to decide whether the

policy of the trusts or the policy of the trade-unions or any other

policy for the selection of laborers is the ideal one. He is confined

to the statement; if you wish this end, then you must proceed in this

way; but it is left to you to express your preference among the ends.

Applied psychology can, therefore, speak the language of an exact

science in its own field, independent of economic opinions and

debatable partisan interests. This is necessary limitation, but in

this limitation lies the strength of the new science. The psychologist

may show how a special commodity can be advertised; but whether from a

social point of view it is desirable to reinforce the sale of these

goods is no problem for psychotechnics. If a sociologist insists that

it would be better if not so many useless goods were bought, and that

the aim ought rather to be to protect the buyer than to help the

seller, the psychologist would not object. His interest would only be

to find the right psychological means to lead to this other social

end. He is partisan neither of the salesman nor of the customer,

neither of the capitalist nor of the laborer, he is neither Socialist

nor anti-Socialist, neither high-tariff man nor free-trader. Here,

too, of course, there are certain goals which are acknowledged on all

sides, and which therefore hardly need any discussion, just as in the

case of the physician, where the prolongation of life is practically

acknowledged as a desirable end by every one. But everywhere where the

aim is not perfectly a matter of course, the psychotechnical

specialist fulfills his task only when he is satisfied with

demonstrating that certain psychical means serve a certain end, and

that they ought to be applied as soon as that end is accepted.

The whole system of psychotechnical knowledge might be subdivided

under either of the two aspects. Either we might start from the

various mental processes and ask for what end each mental factor can

be practically useful and important, or we can begin with studying

what significant ends are acknowledged in our society and then we can

seek the various psychological facts which are needed as means for the

realization of these ends. The first way offers many conveniences.

There we should begin with the mental states of attention, memory,

feeling, and so on, and should study how the psychological knowledge

of every one of these mental states can render service in many

different practical fields. The attention, for instance, is important

in the classroom when the teacher tries to secure the attention of the

pupils, but the judge expects the same attention from the jurymen in

the courtroom, the artist seeks to stir up the attention of the

spectator, the advertiser demands the attention of the newspaper

readers. Whoever studies the characteristics of the mental process of

attention may then be able to indicate how in every one of these

unlike cases the attention can be stimulated and retained.

Nevertheless the opposite way which starts from the tasks to be

fulfilled seems more helpful and more fundamentally significant. The

question, then, is what mental processes become important for the

tasks of education, what for the purposes of the courtroom, what for

the hospital, what for the church, what for politics, and so on.

As this whole essay is to be devoted exclusively to the economic

problems, we are obliged to choose the second way; that is, to arrange

applied psychology with reference to its chief ends and not with

reference to the various means. But the same question comes up in the

further subdivision of the material. In the field of economic

psychology, too, we might ask how far the study of attention, or of

perception, or of feeling, or of will, or of memory, and so on, can be

useful for the purposes of the business man. Or here, too, we might

begin with the consideration of the various ends and purposes. The

ends of commerce are different from those of industry, those of

publishing different from those of transportation, those of

agriculture different from those of mining; or, in the field of

commerce, the purposes of the retailer are different from those of the

wholesale merchant. There can be no limit to such subdivisions; each

particular industry has its own aims, and in the same industry a large

variety of tasks are united. We should accordingly be led to an ample

classification of special economic ends with pigeonholes for every

possible kind of business and of labor. The psychologist would have to

find for every one of these ends the right mental means. This would be

the ideal system of economic psychology.

But we are still endlessly far from such a perfect system. Modern

educational psychology and medical psychology have reached a stage at

which an effort for such a complete system might be realized, but

economic psychology is still at too early a stage of development. It

would be entirely artificial to-day to aim at such ideal completeness.

If we were to construct such a complete system of questions, we should

have no answers. In the present stage nothing can be seriously

proposed but the selection of a few central purposes which occur in

every department of business life, and a study of the means to reach

these special ends by the discussion of some typical cases which may

clearly illustrate the methods involved.

From this point of view we select three chief purposes of business

life, purposes which are important in commerce and industry and every

economic endeavor. We ask how we can find the men whose mental

qualities make them best fitted for the work which they have to do;

secondly, under what psychological conditions we can secure the

greatest and most satisfactory output of work from every man; and

finally, how we can produce most completely the influences on human

minds which are desired in the interest of business. In other words,

we ask how to find the best possible man, how to produce the best

possible work, and how to secure the best possible effects.

PART I

THE BEST POSSIBLE MAN

IV

VOCATION AND FITNESS

Instead of lingering over theoretical discussions, we will move

straight on toward our first practical problem. The economic task,

with reference to which we want to demonstrate the new psychotechnic

method, is the selection of those personalities which by their mental

qualities are especially fit for a particular kind of economic work.

This problem is especially useful to show what the new method can do

and what it cannot do. Whether the method is sufficiently developed to

secure full results to-day, or whether they will come to-morrow, is

unimportant. It is clear that the success of to-morrow is to be hoped

for, only if understanding and interest in the problem is already

alive to-day.

When we inquire into the qualities of men, we use the word here in its

widest meaning. It covers, on the one side, the mental dispositions

which may still be quite undeveloped and which may unfold only under

the influence of special conditions in the surroundings; but, on the

other side, it covers the habitual traits of the personality, the

features of the individual temperament and character, of the

intelligence and of the ability, of the collected knowledge and of the

acquired experience. All variations of will and feeling, of perception

and thought, of attention and emotion, of memory and imagination, are

included here. From a purely psychological standpoint, quite

incomparable contents and functions and dispositions of the

personality are thus thrown together, but in practical life we are

accustomed to proceed after this fashion: if a man applies for a

position, he is considered with regard to the totality of his

qualities, and at first nobody cares whether the particular feature is

inherited or acquired, whether it is an individual chance variation or

whether it is common to a larger group, perhaps to all members of a

certain nationality or race. We simply start from the clear fact that

the personalities which enter into the world of affairs present an

unlimited manifoldness of talents and abilities and functions of the

mind. From this manifoldness, it necessarily follows that some are

more, some less, fit for the particular economic task. In view of the

far-reaching division of labor in our modern economic life, it is

impossible to avoid the question how we can select the fit

personalities and reject the unfit ones.

How has modern society prepared itself to settle this social demand?

In case that certain knowledge is indispensable for the work or that

technical abilities must have been acquired, the vocation is

surrounded by examinations. This is true of the lower as well as of

the higher activities. The direct examination is everywhere

supplemented by testimonials covering the previous achievements, by

certificates referring to the previous education, and in frequent

cases by the endeavor to gain a personal impression from the

applicant. But if we take all this together, the total result remains

a social machinery by which perhaps the elimination of the entirely

unfit can be secured. But no one could speak of a really satisfactory

adaptation of the manifold personalities to the economic vocational

tasks. All those examinations and tests and certificates refer

essentially to what can be learned from without, and not to the true

qualities of the mind and the deeper traits. The so-called

impressions, too, are determined by the most secondary and external

factors. Society relies instinctively on the hope that the natural

wishes and interests will push every one to the place for which his

dispositions, talents, and psychophysical gifts prepare him.

In reality this confidence is entirely unfounded. A threefold

difficulty exists. In the first place, young people know very little

about themselves and their abilities. When the day comes on which they

discover their real strong points and their weaknesses, it is often

too late. They have usually been drawn into the current of a

particular vocation, and have given too much energy to the preparation

for a specific achievement to change the whole life-plan once more.

The entire scheme of education gives to the individual little chance

to find himself. A mere interest for one or another subject in school

is influenced by many accidental circumstances, by the personality of

the teacher or the methods of instruction, by suggestions of the

surroundings and by home traditions, and accordingly even such a

preference gives rather a slight final indication of the individual

mental qualities. Moreover, such mere inclinations and interests

cannot determine the true psychological fitness for a vocation. To

choose a crude illustration, a boy may think with passion of the

vocation of a sailor, and yet may be entirely unfit for it, because

his mind lacks the ability to discriminate red and green. He himself

may never have discovered that he is color-blind, but when he is ready

to turn to the sailor's calling, the examination of his

color-sensitiveness which is demanded may have shown the disturbing

mental deficiency. Similar defects may exist in a boy's attention or

memory, judgment or feeling, thought or imagination, suggestibility or

emotion, and they may remain just as undiscovered as the defect of

color-blindness, which is characteristic of four per cent of the male

population. All such deficiencies may be dangerous in particular

callings. But while the vocation of the ship officer is fortunately

protected nowadays by such a special psychological examination, most

other vocations are unguarded against the entrance of the mentally

unfit individuals.

As the boys and girls grow up without recognizing their psychical

weaknesses, the exceptional strength of one or another mental function

too often remains unnoticed by them as well. They may find out when

they are favored with a special talent for art or music or

scholarship, but they hardly ever know that their attention, or their

memory, or their will, or their intellectual apprehension, or their

sensory perceptions, are unusually developed in a particular

direction; yet such an exceptional mental disposition might be the

cause of special success in certain vocations. But we may abstract

from the extremes of abnormal deficiency and abnormal overdevelopment

in particular functions. Between them we find the broad region of the

average minds with their numberless variations, and these variations

are usually quite unknown to their possessors. It is often surprising

to see how the most manifest differences of psychical organization

remain unnoticed by the individuals themselves. Men with a pronounced

visual type of memory and men with a marked acoustical type may live

together without the slightest idea that their contents of

consciousness are fundamentally different from each other. Neither the

children nor their parents nor their teachers burden themselves with

the careful analysis of such actual mental qualities when the choice

of a vocation is before them. They know that a boy who is completely

unmusical must not become a musician, and that the child who cannot

draw at all must not become a painter, just as on physical grounds a

boy with very weak muscles is not fit to become a blacksmith. But as

soon as the subtler differentiation is needed, the judgment of all

concerned seems helpless and the physical characteristics remain

disregarded.

A further reason for the lack of adaptation, and surely a most

important one, lies in the fact that the individual usually knows only

the most external conditions of the vocations from which he chooses.

The most essential requisite for a truly perfect adaptation, namely, a

real analysis of the vocational demands with reference to the

desirable personal qualities, is so far not in existence. The young

people generally see some superficial traits of the careers which seem

to stand open, and, besides, perhaps they notice the great rewards of

the most successful. The inner labor, the inner values, and the inner

difficulties and frictions are too often unknown to those who decide

for a vocation, and they are unable to correlate those essential

factors of the life-calling with all that nature by inheritance, and

society by surroundings and training, have planted and developed in

their minds.

In addition to this ignorance as to one's own mental disposition and

to the lack of understanding of the true mental requirements of the

various social tasks comes finally the abundance of trivial chances

which become decisive in the choice of a vocation. Vocation and

marriage are the two most consequential decisions in life. In the

selection of a husband or a wife, too, the decision is very frequently

made dependent upon the most superficial and trivial motives. Yet the

social philosopher may content himself with the belief that even in

the fugitive love desire a deeper instinct of nature is expressed,

which may at least serve the biological tasks of married life. In the

choice of a vocation, even such a belief in a biological instinct is

impossible. The choice of a vocation, determined by fugitive whims and

chance fancies, by mere imitation, by a hope for quick earnings, by

irresponsible recommendation, or by mere laziness, has no internal

reason or excuse. Illusory ideas as to the prospects of a career,

moreover, often falsify the whole vista; and if we consider all this,

we can hardly be surprised that our total result is in many respects

hardly better than if everything were left entirely to accident. Even

on the height of a mental training to the end of adolescence, we see

how the college graduates are too often led by accidental motives to

the decision whether they shall become lawyers or physicians or

business men, but this superficiality of choice of course appears much

more strongly where the lifework is to be built upon the basis of a

mere elementary or high school education.

The final result corresponds exactly to these conditions. Everywhere,

in all countries and in all vocations, but especially in the economic

careers, we hear the complaint that there is lack of really good men.

Everywhere places are waiting for the right man, while at the same

time we find everywhere an oversupply of mediocre aspirants. This,

however, does not in the least imply that there really are not enough

personalities who might be perfectly fit even for the highest demands

of the vocations; it means only that as a matter of course the result

in the filling of positions cannot be satisfactory, if the placing of

the individuals is carried on without serious regard for the personal

mental qualities. The complaint that there is lack of fit human

material would probably never entirely disappear, as with a better

adjustment of the material, the demands would steadily increase; but

it could at least be predicted with high probability that this lack of

really fit material would not be felt so keenly everywhere if the

really decisive factor for the adjustment of personality and vocation,

namely, the dispositions of the mind, were not so carelessly ignored.

Society, to be sure, has a convenient means of correction. The

individual tries, and when he is doing his work too badly, he loses

his job, he is pushed out from the career which be has chosen, with

the great probability that he will be crushed by the wheels of social

life. It is a rare occurrence for the man who is a failure in his

chosen vocation, and who has been thrown out of it, to happen to come

into the career in which he can make a success. Social statistics show

with an appalling clearness what a burden and what a danger to the

social body is growing from the masses of those who do not succeed and

who by their lack of success become discouraged and embittered. The

social psychologist cannot resist the conviction that every single

one could have found a place in which he could have achieved something

of value for the commonwealth. The laborer, who in spite of his best

efforts shows himself useless and clumsy before one machine, might

perhaps have done satisfactory work in the next mill where the

machines demand another type of mental reaction. His psychical rhythm

and his inner functions would be able to adjust themselves to the

requirements of the one kind of labor and not to those of the other.

Truly the whole social body has had to pay a heavy penalty for not

making even the faintest effort to settle systematically the

fundamental problem of vocational choice, the problem of the psychical

adaptation of the individuality. An improvement would lie equally in

the interest of those who seek positions and those who have positions

to offer. The employers can hope that in all departments better work

will be done as soon as better adapted individuals can be obtained;

and, on the other hand, those who are anxious to make their working

energies effective may expect that the careful selection of individual

mental characters for the various tasks of the world will insure not

only greater success and gain, but above all greater joy in the work,

deeper satisfaction, and more harmonious unfolding of the personality.

V

SCIENTIFIC VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE

Observations of this kind, which refer to the borderland region

between psychology and social politics, are valid for all modern

nations. Yet it is hardly a chance that the first efforts toward a

systematic overcoming of some of these difficulties have been made

with us in America. The barriers between the classes lie lower; here

the choice of a vocation is less determined by tradition; and it

belongs to the creed of political democracy that just as everybody can

be called to the highest elective offices, so everybody ought to be

fit for any vocation in any sphere of life. The wandering from calling

to calling is more frequent in America than anywhere else. To be sure,

this has the advantage that a failure in one vocation does not bring

with it such a serious injury as in Europe, but it contributes much to

the greater danger that any one may jump recklessly and without

preparation into any vocational stream.

It is fresh in every one's mind how during the last decade the

economic conscience of the whole American nation became aroused. Up to

the end of the last century the people had lived with the secure

feeling of possessing a country with inexhaustible treasures. The last

few years brought the reaction, and it became increasingly clear how

irresponsible the national attitude had been, how the richness of the

forests and the mines and the rivers had been recklessly squandered

without any thought of the future. Conservation of the national

possessions suddenly became the battle-cry, and this turned the eye

also to that limitless waste of human material, a waste going on

everywhere in the world, but nowhere more widely than in the United

States. The feeling grew that no waste of valuable possessions is so

reckless as that which results from the distributing of living force

by chance methods instead of examining carefully how work and workmen

can fit one another. While this was the emotional background, two

significant social movements originated in our midst. The two

movements were entirely independent of each other, but from two

different starting-points they worked in one respect toward the same

goal. They are social and economic movements, neither of which at

first had anything directly to do with psychological questions; but

both led to a point where the psychological turn of the problem seemed

unavoidable. Here begins the obligation of the psychologist, and the

possibility of fulfilling this obligation will be the topic of our

discussion concerning the selection of the best man.

These two American movements which we have in mind are the effort to

furnish to pupils leaving the school guidance in their choice of a

vocation, and the nowadays still better known movement toward

scientific management in commerce and industry. The movement toward

vocational guidance is externally still rather modest and confined to

very narrow circles, but it is rapidly spreading and is not without

significant achievements. It started in Boston. There the late Mr.

Parsons once called a meeting of all the boys of his neighborhood who

were to leave the elementary schools at the end of the year. He wanted

to consider with them whether they had reasonable plans for their

future. At the well-attended meeting it became clear that the boys

knew little concerning what they had to expect in practical life, and

Parsons was able to give them, especially in individual discussions,

much helpful information. They knew too little of the characteristic

features of the vocations to which they wanted to devote themselves,

and they had given hardly any attention to the question whether they

had the necessary qualifications for the special work. From this germ

grew a little office which was opened in 1908, in which all Boston

boys and girls at the time when they left school were to receive

individual suggestions with reference to the most reasonable and best

adjusted selection of a calling. There is hardly any doubt that the

remarkable success of this modest beginning was dependent upon the

admirable personality of the late organizer, who recognized the

individual features with unusual tact and acumen. But he himself had

no doubt that such a merely impressionistic method could not satisfy

the demands. He saw that a threefold advance would become necessary.

First, it was essential to analyze the objective relations of the many

hundred kinds of accessible vocations. Their economic, hygienic,

technical, and social elements ought to be examined so that every boy

and girl could receive reliable information as to the demands of the

vocation and as to the prospects and opportunities in it. Secondly, it

would become essential to interest the schools in all these complex

questions of vocational choice, so that, by observation of individual

tendencies and abilities of the pupils, the teachers might furnish

preparatory material for the work of the institute for vocational

guidance. Thirdly,--and this is for us the most important point,--he

saw that the methods had to be elaborated in such a way that the

personal traits and dispositions might be discovered with much

greater exactitude and with much richer detail than was possible

through what a mere call on the vocational counselor could unveil.[3]

It is well known how this Boston bureau has stimulated a number of

American cities to come forward with similar beginnings. The

pedagogical circles have been especially aroused by the movement,

municipal and philanthropic boards have at least approached this group

of problems, two important conferences for vocational guidance have

met in New York, and at various places the question has been discussed

whether or not a vocational counselor might be attached to the schools

in a position similar to that of the school physician. The chief

progress has been made in the direction of collecting reliable data

with reference to the economic and hygienic conditions of the various

vocations, the demand and supply and the scale of wages. In short,

everything connected with the externalities of the vocations has been

carefully analyzed, and sufficient reliable material has been gained,

at least regarding certain local conditions. In the place of

individual advice, we have thus to a certain degree obtained general

economic investigations from which each can gather what he needs. It

seems that sometimes the danger of letting such offices degenerate

into mere agencies for employment has not been avoided, but that is

one of the perils of the first development. The mother institute in

Boston, too, under its new direction emphasizes more the economic and

hygienic side, and has set its centre of gravity in a systematic

effort to propagate understanding of the problems of vocational

guidance and to train professional vocational counselors in systematic

courses, who are then to carry the interest over the land.[4]

The real psychological analysis with which the movement began has,

therefore, been somewhat pushed aside for a while, and the officers of

those institutes declare frankly that they want to return to the

mental problem only after professional psychologists have sufficiently

worked out the specific methods for its mastery. Most counselors seem

to feel instinctively that the core of the whole matter lies in the

psychological examination, but they all agree that for this they must

wait until the psychological laboratories can furnish them with really

reliable means and schemes. Certainly it is very important, for

instance, that boys with weak lungs be kept away from such industrial

vocations as have been shown by the statistics to be dangerous for the

lungs, or that the onrush to vocations be stopped where the statistics

allow it to be foreseen that there will soon be an oversupply of

workers. But, after all, it remains much more decisive for the welfare

of the community, and for the future life happiness of those who leave

the school, that every one turn to those forms of work to which his

psychological traits are adjusted, or at least that he be kept away

from those in which his mental qualities and dispositions would make a

truly successful advance improbable.

The problem accordingly has been handed over from the vocational

counselors to the experimental psychologists, and it is certainly in

the spirit of the modern tendency toward applied psychology that the

psychological laboratories undertake the investigation and withdraw it

from the dilettantic discussion of amateur psychologists or the mere

impressionism of the school-teachers. Even those early beginnings

indicate clearly that the goal can be reached only through exact,

scientific, experimental research, and that the mere naïve

methods--for instance, the filling-out of questionnaires which may be

quite useful in the first approach--cannot be sufficient for a real,

persistent furtherance of economic life and of the masses who seek

their vocations. In order to gain an analysis of the individual,

Parsons made every applicant answer in writing a long series of

questions which referred to his habits and his emotions, his

inclinations and his expectations, his traits and his experiences. The

psychologist, however, can hardly be in doubt that just the mental

qualities which ought to be most important for the vocational

counselor can scarcely be found out by such methods. We have

emphasized before that the ordinary individual knows very little of

his own mental functions: on the whole, he knows them as little as he

knows the muscles which be uses when he talks or walks. Among his

questions Parsons included such ones as: "Are your manners quiet,

noisy, boisterous, deferential, or self-assertive? Are you thoughtful

of the comfort of others? Do you smile naturally and easily, or is

your face ordinarily expressionless? Are you frank, kindly, cordial,

respectful, courteous in word and actions? Do you look people frankly

in the eye? Are your inflections natural, courteous, modest, musical,

or aggressive, conceited, pessimistic, repellent? What are your powers

of attention, observation, memory, reason, imagination, inventiveness,

thoughtfulness, receptiveness, quickness, analytical power,

constructiveness, breadth, grasp? Can you manage people well? Do you

know a fine picture when you see it? Is your will weak, yielding,

vacillating, or firm, strong, stubborn? Do you like to be with people

and do they like to be with you?"--and so on. It is clear that the

replies to questions of this kind can be of psychological value only

when the questioner knows beforehand the mind of the youth, and can

accordingly judge with what degree of understanding, sincerity, and

ability the circular blanks have been filled out. But as the questions

are put for the very purpose of revealing the personality, the entire

effort tends to move in a circle.

To break this circle, it indeed becomes necessary to emancipate one's

self from the method of ordinary self-observation and to replace it by

objective experiment in the psychological laboratory. Experimentation

in such a laboratory stands in no contrast to the method of

introspection. A contrast does exist between self-observation and

observation on children or patients or primitive peoples or animals.

In their case the psychologist observes his material from without. But

in the case of the typical laboratory experiment, everything is

ultimately based on self-observation; only we have to do with the

self-observation under exact conditions which the experimenter is able

to control and to vary at will. Even Parsons sometimes turned to

little experimental inquiries in which he simplified some well-known

methods of the laboratory in order to secure with the most elementary

means a certain objective foundation for his mental analysis. For

instance, he sometimes examined the memory by reading to the boys

graded sentences containing from ten to fifty words and having them

repeat what they remembered, or he measured with a watch the rapidity

of reading and writing, or he determined the sensitiveness for the

discrimination of differences by asking them to make a point with a

pencil in the centres of circles of various sizes. But if such

experimental schemes, even of the simplest form, are in question, it

seems a matter of course that the plan ought to be prescribed by real

scientists who specialize in the psychological field. The

psychologist, for instance, surely cannot agree to a method which

measures the memory by such a method of having spoken sentences

repeated and the quality of the memory faculty naïvely graded

according to the results. He knows too well that there are many

different kinds of memory, and would always determine first which type

of memory functions is to be examined if memory achievements are

needed for a particular calling.

But even with a more exact method of experimenting, such a procedure

would not be sufficient to solve the true problem. A second step would

still be necessary: namely, the adaptation of the experimental result

to the special psychological requirements of the economic activity;

and this again presupposes an independent psychological analysis. Most

of the previous efforts have suffered from the carelessness with which

this second step was ignored, and the special mental requirements were

treated as a matter of course upon which any layman could judge. In

reality they need the most careful psychological analysis, and only if

this is carried out with the means of scientific psychology, can a

study of the abilities of the individual become serviceable to the

demands of the market. Such a psychological disentangling of the

requirements of the callings, in the interest of guidance, is

attempted in the material which the various vocational institutes have

prepared, but it seldom goes beyond commonplaces. We read there, for

instance,[5] for the confectioner: "Boys in this industry must be

clean, quick, and strong. The most important qualities desired are

neatness and adaptability to routine"; or, for the future baker, the

boy "ought to know how to conduct himself and to meet the public"; or

for the future architectural designer, "he must have creative ability,

artistic feeling, and power to sketch"; or for the dressmaker, she

"should have good eyesight and good sense of color, and an ability to

use her hands readily; she should be able to apply herself steadily

and be fairly quick in her movements; neatness of person is also

essential"; or for the stenographer, she must be "possessed of

intelligence, good judgment, and common sense; must have good

eyesight, good hearing, and a good memory; must have quick perception,

and be able to concentrate her attention completely on any matter in

hand." It is evident that all this is extremely far from any

psychological analysis in the terms of science. All taken together, we

may, therefore, say that in the movement for vocational guidance

practically nothing has been done to make modern experimental

psychology serviceable to the new task. But on the one side, it has

shown that this work of the experimental psychologist is the next step

necessary. On the other side, it has become evident that in the

vocation bureaus appropriate social agencies are existing which are

ready to take up the results of such work, and to apply them for the

good of the American youth and of commerce and industry, as soon as

the experimental psychologist has developed the significant methods.

VI

SCIENTIFIC MANAGEMENT

Before we discuss some cases of such experimental investigations, we

may glance at that other American movement, the well-known systematic

effort toward scientific management which has often been interpreted

in an expansive literature.[6] Enthusiastic followers have declared it

to be the greatest advance in industry since the introduction of the

mill system and of machinery. Opponents have hastily denounced it as a

mistake, and have insisted that it proved a failure in the factories

in which it has been introduced. A sober examination of the facts soon

demonstrates that the truth lies in the middle. Those followers of

Frederick W. Taylor who have made almost a religion out of his ideas

have certainly often exaggerated the practical applicability of the

new theories, and their actual reforms in the mills have not seldom

shown that the system is still too topheavy; that is, there are too

many higher employees necessary in order to keep the works running on

principles of scientific management. On the other hand, the opposition

which comes from certain quarters,--for instance, from some

trade-unions,--may be disregarded, as it is not directed against the

claim that the efficiency can be heightened, but only against some

social features of the scheme, such as the resulting temporary

reduction of the number of workmen. But nobody can deny that this

revolutionary movement has introduced most valuable suggestions which

the industrial world cannot afford to ignore, and that as soon as

exaggerations are avoided and experience has created a broader

foundation, the principles of the new theory will prove of lasting

value. We shall have to discuss, at a later point, various special

features of the system, especially the highly interesting motion

study. Here we have to deal only with those tendencies of the movement

and with those interests which point toward our present problem, the

mental analysis of the individual employees in order to avoid misfits.

The approach to this problem, indeed, seems unavoidable for the

students of scientific management, as its goal is an organization of

economic work by which the waste of energy will be avoided and the

greatest increase in the efficiency of the industrial enterprise will

be reached. The recognition that this can never be effected by a mere

excessive driving of the workingmen belongs to its very

presuppositions. The illusory means of prolongation of the

working-time and similar devices by which the situation of the

individual deteriorates would be out of the question; on the contrary,

the heightening of the individual's joy in the work and of the

personal satisfaction in one's total life development belongs among

the most important, indirect agencies of the new scheme. This end is

reached by many characteristic changes in the division of labor; also

by a new division between supervisors and workers, by transformations

of the work itself and of the tools and vehicles. But as a by-product

of these efforts the demand necessarily arose for means by which the

fit individuals could be found for special kinds of labor. The more

scientific management introduced changes, by which the individual

achievement often had to become rather complicated and difficult, the

more it became necessary to study the skill and the endurance and the

intelligence of the individual laborers in order to entrust these new

difficult tasks only to the most appropriate men in the factories and

mills. The problem of individual selection accordingly forced itself

on the new efficiency engineers, and they naturally recognized that

the really essential traits and dispositions were the mental ones. In

the most progressive books of the new movement, this need of

emphasizing the selection of workers with reference to their mental

equipment comes to clear expression.

Yet this is very far from a real application of scientific psychology

to the problem at hand. Wherever the question of the selection of the

fit men after psychological principles is mentioned in the literature

of this movement, the language becomes vague, and the same men, who

use the newest scientific knowledge whenever physics or mathematics or

physiology or chemistry are involved, make hardly any attempts to

introduce the results of science when psychology is in question. The

clearest insight into the general situation may be found in the most

recent books by Emerson. He says frankly: "It is psychology, not soil

or climate, that enables man to raise five times as many potatoes per

acre as the average in his own state";[7] or: "In selecting human

assistants such superficialities as education, as physical strength,

even antecedent morality, are not as important as the inner attitudes,

proclivities, character, which after all determine the man or

woman."[8] He also fully recognizes the necessity of securing as early

as possible the psychological essentials. He says: "The type for the

great newspaper is set up by linotype operators. Apprenticeship is

rigorously limited. Some operators can never get beyond the 2500-em

class, others with no more personal effort can set 5000 ems. Do the

employers test out applicants for apprenticeship so as to be sure to

secure boys who will develop into the 5000-em class? They do not: they

select applicants for any near reason except the fundamental important

one of innate fitness."[9] But all this points only to the existence

of the problem, and in reality gives not even a hint for its solution.

The theorists of scientific management seem to think that the most

subtle methods are indispensable for physical measurements, but for

psychological inquiry nothing but a kind of intuition is necessary.

Emerson tells how, for instance, "The competent specialist who has

supplemented natural gifts and good judgment by analysis and synthesis

can perceive attitudes and proclivities even in the very young, much

more readily in those semi-matured, and can with almost infallible

certainty point out, not only what work can be undertaken with fair

hope of success, but also what slight modification or addition and

diminution will more than double the personal power."[10] The true

psychological specialists surely ought to decline this flattering

confidence. Far from the "almost infallible certainty," they can

hardly expect even a moderate amount of success in such directions so

long as specific methods have not been elaborated, and so long as no

way has been shown to make experimental measurements by which such

mere guesswork can be replaced by scientific investigation.

The only modest effort to try a step in this direction toward the

psychological laboratory is recorded by Taylor,[11] who tells of Mr.

S.E. Thompson's work in a bicycle ball factory, where a hundred and

twenty girls were inspecting the balls. They had to place a row of

small polished steel balls on the back of the left hand and while they

were rolled over and over in the crease between two of the fingers

placed together, they were minutely examined in a strong light and the

defective balls were picked out with the aid of a magnet held in the

right hand. The work required the closest attention and concentration.

The girls were working ten and a half hours a day. Mr. Thompson soon

recognized that the quality most needed, beside endurance and

industry, was a quick power of perception accompanied by quick

responsive action. He knew that the psychological laboratory has

developed methods for a very exact measurement of the time needed to

react on an impression with the quickest possible movement; it is

called the reaction time, and is usually measured in thousandths of a

second. He therefore considered it advisable to measure the

reaction-time of the girls, and to eliminate from service all those

who showed a relatively long time between the stimulus and reaction.

This involved laying off many of the most intelligent, hardest-working,

and most trustworthy girls. Yet the effect was the possibility of

shortening the hours and of reducing more and more the number of

workers, with the final outcome that thirty-five girls did the work

formerly done by a hundred and twenty, and that the accuracy of the

work at the higher speed was two thirds greater than at the former

slow speed. This allowed almost a doubling of the wages of the girls

in spite of their shorter working-day, and at the same time a

considerable reduction in the cost of the work for the factory. This

excursion of an efficiency engineer into the psychological laboratory

remained, however; an entirely exceptional case. Moreover, such a

reaction-time measurement did not demand any special development of

new methods or any particular mental analysis, and this exception thus

confirms the rule that the followers of scientific management

principles have recognized the need of psychological inquiries, but

have not done anything worth mentioning to apply the results of really

scientific psychology. Hence the situation is the same as in the field

of vocational guidance. In both cases a vague longing for

psychological analysis and psychological measurement, but in both

cases so far everything has remained on the level of helpless

psychological dilettantism. It stands in striking contrast with the

scientific seriousness with which the economic questions are taken up

in the field of vocational guidance and the physical questions in the

field of scientific management. It is, therefore, evidently the duty

of the experimental psychologists themselves to examine the ground

from the point of view of the psychological laboratory.

VII

THE METHODS OF EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY

We now see clearly the psychotechnical problem. We have to analyze

definite economic tasks with reference to the mental qualities which

are necessary or desirable for them, and we have to find methods by

which these mental qualities can be tested. We must, indeed, insist on

it that the interests of commerce and industry can be helped only when

both sides, the vocational demands and the personal function, are

examined with equal scientific thoroughness. One aspect alone is

unsatisfactory. It would of course be possible to confine the

examination to the individual mental traits, and then theoretically to

determine for which economic tasks the presence of these qualities

would be useful and for which tasks their absence or their deficiency

would be fatal. Common sense may be sufficient to lead us a few steps

in that direction. For instance, if we find by psychological

examination that an individual is color-blind for red and green

sensations, we may at once conclude, without any real psychological

analysis of the vocations, that he would be unfit for the railroad

service or the naval service, in which red and green signals are of

importance. We may also decide at once that such a boy would be

useless for all artistic work in which the nuances of colors are of

consequence, or as a laborer in certain departments of a dyeing

establishment, and that such a color-blind girl would not do at a

dressmaker's or in a millinery store. But if we come to the question

whether such a color-blind individual may enter into the business of

gardening, in spite of the inability to distinguish the strawberries

in the bed or the red flowers among the green leaves, the first

necessity, after all, would be to find out how far the particular

demands of this vocation make the ability to discriminate color a

prerequisite, and how far psychical substitutions such as a

recognition of the forms and of differences in the light intensity,

may be sufficient for the practical task. Moreover, where not merely

such mental defects, but more subtly shaded variations within normal

limits are involved, it would be superficial, if only the mental

states were examined and not at the same time the mental requirements

of the vocations themselves. The vocation should rather remain the

starting-point. We must at first find out what demands on the mental

system are made by it and we must grade these demands in order to

recognize the more or less important ones, and, especially for the

important ones, we must then seek exact standards with experimental

methods.

Such an experimental investigation may proceed according to either of

two different principles. One way is to take the mental process which

is demanded by the industrial work as an undivided whole. In this case

we have to construct experimental conditions under which this total

activity can be performed in a gradual, measurable way. The psychical

part of the vocational work thus becomes schematized, and is simply

rendered experimentally on a reduced scale. The other way is to

resolve the mental process into its components and to test every

single elementary function in its isolated form. In this latter case

the examination has the advantage of having at its disposal all the

familiar methods of experimental psychology, while in the first case

for every special vocational situation perfectly new experimental

tests must be devised.

Whether the one or the other method is to be preferred must depend

upon the nature of the particular commercial or industrial calling,

and accordingly presupposes a careful analysis of the special

economical processes. It is, indeed, easy to recognize that in certain

industrial activities a series of psychical functions is in question

which all lie side by side and which do not fuse into one united

total process, however much they may influence one another. But for

many industrial tasks just this unity is the essential condition. The

testing of the mental elements would be in such cases as insufficient

as if we were to test a machine with reference to its parts only and

not with reference to its total united performance. Even in this

latter case this unified function does not represent the total

personality: it is always merely a segment of the whole mental life.

We may examine with psychological methods, for instance, the fitness

of an employee for a technical vocation and may test the particular

complex unified combination of attention, imagination and

intelligence, will and memory, which is essential for that special

kind of labor. We may be able to reconstruct the conditions so

completely that we would feel justified in predicting whether the

individual can fulfill that technical task or not; and yet we may

disregard entirely the question whether that man is honest or

dishonest, whether he is pacific or quarrelsome; in short, whether his

mental disposition makes him a desirable member of that industrial

concern under other aspects.

We best recognize the significance of these various methods by

selecting a few concrete cases as illustrations and analyzing them in

detail. But a word of warning may be given beforehand so as to avoid

misunderstandings. These examples do not stand here as reports of

completed investigations, the results of which ought to be accepted as

conclusive parts of the new psychotechnical science; they are not

presented as if the results were to be recommended like a well-tested

machine for practical purposes. Such really completed investigations

do not as yet exist in this field. All that can be offered is modest

pioneer work, and just these inquiries into the mental qualities and

their relations to the industrial vocations have attracted my

attention only very recently, and therefore certainly still demand

long continuations of the experiments in every direction. But we may

hope for satisfactory results the earlier, the more coöperators are

entering the field, and the more such researches are started in other

places and in other institutions. I therefore offer these early

reports at the first stage of my research merely as stimulations, so

as to demonstrate the possibilities.

As an illustration of the method of examining the mental process as a

whole, I propose to discuss the case of the motormen in the electric

railways. As an illustration of the other type, namely, of analyzing

the activity and testing the elementary functions, I shall discuss the

case of the employees in the telephone service. I select these two

functions, as both play a practically important rôle in the technique

of modern economic life and as in both occupations very large numbers

of individuals are engaged in the work.

VIII

EXPERIMENTS IN THE INTEREST OF ELECTRIC RAILWAY SERVICE

The problem of securing fit motormen for the electric railways was

brought to my attention from without. The accidents which occurred

through the fault, or at least not without the fault, of the motormen

in street railway transportation have always aroused disquietude and

even indignation in the public, and the street railway companies

suffered much from the many payments of indemnity imposed by the court

as they amounted to thirteen per cent of the gross earnings of some

companies. Last winter the American Association for Labor Legislation

called a meeting of vocational specialists to discuss the problem of

these accidents under various aspects. The street railways of various

cities were represented, and economic, physiological, and

psychological specialists took part in the general discussion. Much

attention was given, of course, to the questions of fatigue and to the

statistical results as to the number of accidents and their relation

to the various hours of the day and to the time of labor. But there

was a strong tendency to recognize as still more important than the

mere fatigue, the whole mental constitution of the motormen. The

ability to keep attention constant, to resist distraction by chance

happenings on the street and especially the always needed ability to

foresee the possible movements of the pedestrians and vehicles were

acknowledged as extremely different from man to man. The companies

claimed that there are motormen who practically never have an

accident, because they feel beforehand even what the confused

pedestrian and the unskilled chauffeur will do, while others

relatively often experience accidents of all kinds because they do not

foresee how matters will develop. They can hardly be blamed, as they

were not careless, and yet the accidents did result from their

personal qualities; they simply lacked the gift of instinctive

foresight. All this turned the attention more and more to the

possibilities of psychological analysis, and the Association suggested

that I undertake an inquiry into this interesting problem with the

means of the psychological laboratory. I felt the practical importance

of the problem, considering that there are electric railway companies

in this country which have up to fifty thousand accident indemnity

cases a year. It therefore seemed to me decidedly worth while to

undertake a laboratory investigation.

It would have been quite possible to treat the functions of the

motormen according to the method which resolves the complex

achievement into its various elements and tests every function

independently. For instance, the stopping of the car as soon as the

danger of an accident threatens is evidently effective only if the

movement controlling the lever is carried out with sufficient

rapidity. We should accordingly be justified in examining the

quickness with which the individual reacts on optical stimuli. If a

playing child suddenly runs across the track of the electric railway,

a difference of a tenth of a second in the reaction-time may decide

his fate. But I may say at once that I did not find characteristic

differences in the rapidity of reaction of those motormen whom the

company had found reliable and those who have frequent accidents. It

seems that the slow individuals do not remain in the service at all.

As a matter of course certain other indispensable single functions,

like sharpness of vision are examined before the entrance into the

service and so they cannot stand as characteristic conditions of good

or bad service among the actual employees.

For this reason, in the case of the motormen I abstracted from the

study of single elementary functions and turned my attention to that

mental process which after some careful observations seemed to me the

really central one for the problem of accidents. I found this to be a

particular complicated act of attention by which the manifoldness of

objects, the pedestrians, the carriages, and the automobiles, are

continuously observed with reference to their rapidity and direction

in the quickly changing panorama of the street. Moving figures come

from the right and from the left toward and across the track, and are

embedded in a stream of men and vehicles which moves parallel to the

track. In the face of such manifoldness there are men whose impulses

are almost inhibited and who instinctively desire to wait for the

movement of the nearest objects; they would evidently be unfit for the

service, as they would drive the electric car far too slowly. There

are others who, even with the car at high speed, can adjust themselves

for a time to the complex moving situation, but whose attention soon

lapses, and while they are fixating a rather distant carriage, may

overlook a pedestrian who carelessly crosses the track immediately in

front of their car. In short, we have a great variety of mental types

of this characteristic unified activity, which may be understood as a

particular combination of attention and imagination.

My effort was to transplant this activity of the motormen into

laboratory processes. And here I may include a remark on the

methodology of psychological industrial experiments. One might

naturally think that the experience of a special industrial

undertaking would be best reproduced for the experiment by repeating

the external conditions in a kind of miniature form. That would mean

that we ought to test the motormen of the electric railway by

experiments with small toy models of electric cars placed on the

laboratory table. But this would be decidedly inappropriate. A reduced

copy of an external apparatus may arouse ideas, feelings, and

volitions which have little in common with the processes of actual

life. The presupposition would be that the man to be tested for any

industrial achievement would have to think himself into the miniature

situation, and especially uneducated persons are often very

unsuccessful in such efforts. This can be clearly seen from the

experiences before naval courts, where it is usual to demonstrate

collisions of ships by small ship models on the table in the

courtroom. Experience has frequently shown that helmsmen, who have

found their course a life long among real vessels in the harbor and on

the sea, become entirely confused when they are to demonstrate by the

models the relative positions of the ships. Even in the naval war

schools where the officers play at war with small model ships, a

certain inner readjustment is always necessary for them to bring the

miniature ships on the large table into the tactical game. On the

water, for instance, the navy officer sees the far-distant ships very

much smaller than those near by, while on the naval game table all the

ships look equally large. On the whole, I feel inclined to say from my

experience so far that experiments with small models of the actual

industrial mechanism are hardly appropriate for investigations in the

field of economic psychology. The essential point for the

psychological experiment is not the external similarity of the

apparatus, but exclusively the inner similarity of the mental

attitude. The more the external mechanism with which or on which the

action is carried out becomes schematized, the more the action itself

will appear in its true character.

In the method of my experiments with the motormen, accordingly, I had

to satisfy only two demands. The method of examination promised to be

valuable if, first, it showed good results with reliable motormen and

bad results with unreliable ones; and secondly, if it vividly aroused

in all the motormen the feeling that the mental function which they

were going through during the experiment had the greatest possible

similarity with their experience on the front platform of the

electric car. These are the true tests of a desirable experimental

method, while it is not necessary that the apparatus be similar to the

electric car or that the external activities in the experiment be

identical with their performance in the service. After several

unsatisfactory efforts, in which I worked with too complicated

instruments, I finally settled on the following arrangement of the

experiment which seems to me to satisfy those two demands.

The street is represented by a card 9 half-inches broad and 26

half-inches long. Two heavy lines half an inch apart go lengthwise

through the centre of the card, and accordingly a space of 4

half-inches remains on either side. The whole card is divided into

small half-inch squares which we consider as the unit. Thus there is

in any cross-section 1 unit between the two central lines and 4 units

on either side. Lengthwise there are 26 units. The 26 squares which

lie between the two heavy central lines are marked with the printed

letters of the alphabet from A to Z. These two heavy central lines are

to represent an electric railway track on a street. On either side the

4 rows of squares are filled in an irregular way with black and red

figures of the three first digits. The digit 1 always represents a

pedestrian who moves just one step, and that means from one unit into

the next; the digit 2 a horse, which moves twice as fast, that is,

which moves 2 units; and the digit 3 an automobile which moves three

times as fast, that is, 3 units. Moreover, the black digits stand for

men, horses, and automobiles which move parallel to the track and

cannot cross the track, and are therefore to be disregarded in looking

out for dangers. The red digits, on the other hand, are the dangerous

ones. They move from either side toward the track. The idea is that

the man to be experimented on is to find as quickly as possible those

points on the track which are threatened by the red figures, that is,

those letters in the 26 track units at which the red figures would

land, if they make the steps which their number indicates. A red digit

3 which is 4 steps from the track is to be disregarded, because it

would not reach the track. A red digit 3 which is only 1 or 2 steps

from the track is also to be disregarded, because it would cross

beyond the track, if it took 3 steps. But a red 3 which is 3 units

from the track, a red 2 which is 2 units from the track, and a red 1

which is 1 unit from the track would land on the track itself; and the

aim is quickly to find these points. The task is difficult, as the

many black figures divert the attention, and as the red figures too

near or too far are easily confused with those which are just at the

dangerous distance.

As soon as this principle for the experiment was recognized as

satisfactory, it was necessary to find a technical device by which a

movement over this artificial track could be produced in such a way

that the rapidity could be controlled by the subject of the experiment

and at the same time measured. Again we had to try various forms of

apparatus. Finally we found the following form most satisfactory.

Twelve such cards, each provided with a handle, lie one above another

under a glass plate through which the upper card can be seen. If this

highest card is withdrawn; the second is exposed, and from below

springs press the remaining cards against the glass plate. The glass

plate with the 12 cards below lies in a black wooden box and is

completely covered by a belt 8 inches broad, made of heavy black

velvet. This velvet belt moves over two cylinders at the front and the

rear ends of the apparatus. In the centre of the belt is a window

4-1/2 inches wide and 2-1/2 inches high. If the front cylinder is

turned by a metal crank, the velvet belt passes over the glass plate

and the little window opening moves over the card with its track and

figures. The whole breadth of the card, with its central track and its

4 units on either side, is visible through it over an area of 5 units

in the length direction. If the man to be experimented on turns the

crank with his right hand, the window slips over the whole length of

the card, one part of the card after another becomes visible, and then

he simply has to call the letters of those units in the track at which

the red figures on either side would land, if they took the number of

steps indicated by the digit. At the moment the window has reached Z

on the card, the experimenter withdraws that card and the next becomes

visible, as a second window in the belt appears at the lower end when

the first disappears at the upper end. In this way the subject can

turn his crank uninterruptedly until he has gone through the 12 cards.

The experimenter notes down the numbers of the cards and the letters

which the subject calls. Besides this, the number of seconds required

for the whole experiment, from the beginning of the first card to the

end of the twelfth, is measured with a stopwatch. This time is, of

course, dependent upon the rapidity with which the crank is turned.

The result of the experiment is accordingly expressed by three

figures, the number of seconds, the number of omissions, that is, of

places at which red figures would land on the track which were not

noticed by the subject; and, thirdly, the number of incorrect places

where letters were called in spite of the fact, that no danger

existed. In using the results, we may disregard this third figure and

give our attention to the speed and the number of omissions.

The necessary condition for carrying out the experiments with this

apparatus is a careful, quiet, practical explanation of the device.

The experiment must not under any circumstances be started until the

subject completely understands what he has to do and for what he has

to look out. For this purpose I at first always show the man one card

outside of the apparatus and explain to him the differences between

the black and the red figures, and the counting of the steps, and show

to him in a number of cases how some red figures do not reach the

track, how others go beyond the track, and how some just land in

danger on the track. As soon as he has completely understood the

principle, we turn to the apparatus and he moves the window slowly

over a test card, and tries to find the dangerous spots, and I turn

his attention to every case in which he has omitted one or has given

an incorrect letter. We repeat this slowly until he completely masters

the rules of the game. Only then is he allowed to start the

experiment. I have never found a man with whom this preparation takes

more than a few minutes.

After developing this method in the psychological laboratory, I

turned to the study of men actually in the service of a great electric

railway company which supported my endeavors in the most cordial

spirit. In accordance with my request, the company furnished me with a

number of the best motormen in its service, men who for twenty years

and more had performed their duties practically without accidents,

and, on the other hand, with a large number of motormen who had only

just escaped dismissal and whose record was characterized by many more

or less important collisions or other accidents. Finally, we had men

whose activity as motormen was neither especially good nor especially

bad.

The test of the method lies first in the fact that the tried motormen

agreed that they really pass through the experiment with the feeling

which they have on their car. The necessity of looking out in both

directions, right and left, for possible obstacles, of distinguishing

those which move toward the track from the many which move along the

track, the quick discrimination among the various rates of rapidity,

the steady forward movement of the observation point, the constant

temptation to give attention to those which are still too far away or

to those which are so near that they will cross the track before the

approach of the car, in short, the whole complex situation with its

demands on attention, imagination, and quick adjustment, soon brings

them into an attitude which they themselves feel as identical with

that in practical life. On the other hand, the results show a

far-reaching correspondence between efficiency in the experiment and

efficiency in the actual service. With a relatively small number of

experiments this correspondence cannot be expected to be complete, the

more as a large number of secondary features must enter which

interfere with an exact correlation between experiment and standing in

the railway company. We must consider, for instance, that those men

whom the company naturally selects as models are men who have had

twenty to thirty years of service without accidents, but consequently

they are rather old men, who no longer have the elasticity of youth

and are naturally less able to think themselves into an artificial

situation like that of such an experiment, and who have been for a

long time removed from contact with book work. It is therefore not

surprising, but only to be expected, that such older, model men, while

doing fair work in the test, are yet not seldom far surpassed by

bright, quick, young motormen who are twenty years younger, even

though they are not yet ideal motormen. Moreover, the standing in the

company often depends upon features which have nothing to do with the

mental make-up of the man, while the experiment has to be confined to

these mental conditions which favor accidents. It is quite possible

that a man may happen to experience a slight collision, even though no

conditions for the accident were lying in his mental make-up. But we

may go still further. The experiment refers to those sides of his mind

which make him able to foresee the danger points, and that is

decidedly the most essential factor and the one from which most can be

hoped for the safety of the public. But this does not exclude the

possibility that some other mental traits may become causes of

accidents. The man may be too daring and may like to run risks, or he

may still need discipline, or he may not be sufficiently acquainted

with the local conditions. Any such secondary factors may cause some

slight accidents with the man who shows rather fair results in the

experimental test of his foresight. Finally, we must not forget that

some men enter into such tests under a certain nervous tension and

therefore may not show so well at the very first test as their mental

equipment should allow. Hence it is decidedly desirable not to rely on

the first test, but to repeat it. If those various interferences are

taken into account, the correspondence between efficiency and the

results of the tests is fairly satisfactory. It justified me in

proposing that the experiments be continued and in regarding it as

quite possible that later tests on the basis of this principle may be

introduced at the employment of motormen.

A difficulty is presented by the valuation of the numerical results.

The mere number of omissions alone cannot be decisive, as it is clear

that no intelligent man would make any omissions if he should give an

unlimited amount of time to it; for instance, if he were to spend

fifteen minutes on those 12 cards. But this is the same thing as to

say that a motorman would not run over any one if he were to drive his

car one mile in an hour. The practical problem is to combine the

greatest possible speed with the smallest number of oversights and

both factors must therefore be considered. The subject who makes

relatively many mistakes but uses a very short time must be

acknowledged to be as good as the man who makes fewer mistakes but

takes a longer time. In the results which I have gathered in

experiments with motormen, no one has gone through those 12 cards in a

shorter time than 140 seconds, while the longest time was 427 seconds.

On the other hand, no one of the motormen made less than 4 omissions,

while the worst ones made 28 omissions. I abstract from one extreme

case with 36 omissions. On the whole, we may say that the time

fluctuates between 180 and 420, the mistakes between 4 and 28. The aim

is to find a formula which gives full value to both factors and makes

the material directly comparable in the form of one numerical value

instead of the two. If we were simply to add the number of seconds and

the number of omissions, the omissions would count far too little,

inasmuch as 10 additional omissions would then mean no more than 10

additional seconds. On the other hand, if we were to multiply the two

figures the omissions would mean by far too much, as the transition

from 4 mistakes to 8 mistakes would then be as great a change as the

transition from 200 to 400 seconds, that is, from the one extreme of

time to the other. Evidently we balance both factors if we multiply

the number of omissions by 10 and add them to the number of seconds.

The variations between 4 and 28 omissions are 24 steps, which

multiplied by 10 correspond to the 240 steps which lie between 180 and

420 seconds. On that basis any additional 50 seconds would be equal to

5 additional omissions. If of two men one takes 100 seconds less than

his neighbor, he is equal to him in his ability to satisfy the demands

of the service, if he makes 10 mistakes more.

On the basis of this calculation I find that the old, well-trained

motormen come to a result of about 450, and I should consider that an

average standard. This would mean that a man who uses 400 seconds

would not be allowed to make more than 5 omissions, in 350 seconds not

more than 10, in 300 not more than 15, in 250 not more than 20, under

the condition that these are the results of the first set of

experiments. Where there are more than 20 omissions made, mere

quickness ought not to be allowed as a substitute. The man who takes

150 seconds and makes 30 mistakes would come up to the same standard

level of 450. Yet his characteristics would probably not serve the

interests of the service. He would speed up his car and would make

better time than any one else, but would be liable to accidents. I

should consider 20 mistakes with a time not longer than 250 as the

permissible maximum. Among the younger motormen whom I examined, the

best result was 290, in which 270 seconds were used and only 2

omissions made. Results below 350 may be considered as very good. One

man, for instance, carried out the experiment in 237 seconds with 11

mistakes, which gives the result 347. From 350 to 450 may be counted

as fair, 450 to 550 as mediocre, and over 550 as very poor. In the

case of old men, who may be expected to adjust themselves less easily

to artificial experiments, the limits may be shifted. If the

experiments are made repeatedly, the valuation of the results must be

changed accordingly. The training of the men in literary and

mathematical work or in experimentation may be considered, as our

experiments have shown that highly educated young people with long

training in experimental observations can pass through the test much

more quickly than any one of the motormen could. Among the most

advanced graduate students who do research work in my Harvard

laboratory there was no one whose result was more than 275, while, as

I said, among all the motormen there was no one whose result was less

than 290. The best result reached was by a student who passed through

the test in 223 seconds with only 1 mistake, the total therefore being

233. Next came a student who did it in 215 seconds with 3 mistakes,

total, 245; then in 228 seconds with 2 omissions, total, 248, and so

on.

I recapitulate: With men on the educational level and at the age that

comes in question for their first appointment in the service of an

electric railway company, the test proposed ought to be applied

according to this scheme. If they make more than 20 mistakes, they

ought to be excluded; if they make less than 20 mistakes, the number

of omissions is to be multiplied by 10 and added to the number of

seconds. If the sum is less than 350, their mental fitness for the

avoidance of accidents is very high, between 350 and 450 fair, and

more than 550 not acceptable under any conditions. I submit this,

however, with the emphasis on my previous statement that the

investigation is still in its first stage, and that it will need a

long coöperation between science and industry in order to determine

the desirable modifications and special conditions which may become

necessary in making the employment of men partly dependent upon such

psychological tests. There can be no doubt that the experiments could

be improved in many directions. But even in this first, not adequately

tested, form, an experimental investigation of this kind which demands

from each individual hardly 10 minutes would be sufficient to exclude

perhaps one fourth of those who are nowadays accepted into the service

as motormen. This 25 per cent of the applicants do not deserve any

blame. In many other occupations they might render excellent service;

they are neither careless nor reckless, and they do not act against

instructions, but their psychical mechanism makes them unfit for that

particular combination of attention and imagination which ought to be

demanded for the special task of the motorman. If the many thousands

of injury and the many hundreds of death cases could be reduced by

such a test at least to a half, then the conditions of transportation

would have been improved more than by any alterations in the technical

apparatus, which usually are the only objects of interest in the

discussion of specialists. The whole world of industry will have to

learn the great lesson, that of the three great factors, material,

machine, and man, the man is not the least, but the most important.

IX