CHARLIE WOODBERRY ASKS QUESTIONS.
We were seated on the veranda of my house on Salem Avenue. It was a
summer evening after tea in 1912. My wife sat by my side and her
brother, Charlie Woodberry, a young man about twenty-two, sat with us.
My little daughter and a number of children about her own age played
upon the lawn in front of the house.
The day had been an exceedingly hot one—such a day as the farmers say is
excellent for corn—but the evening was cool and delightful, as all the
evenings are in Idaho.
We were engaged in watching the children as they played and listening to
their merry laughter. As the evening wore on and the dusk deepened into
darkness, when the little girl, tired of play, came and sat in her
little chair on the veranda, our conversation took a more serious turn.
Charlie was a visitor from Fall River, Massachusetts, and in that city
was employed in the office of a large factory in the capacity of
bookkeeper. I think his salary was at that time about eighty dollars per
month. He was spending his three weeks’ vacation with us.
“Mr. Braden,” said he, “I learned to-day that your book ‘Co-operative
Economy’ is probably responsible for your being Governor of Idaho and
President of the Association. I have never read it, but my two days’
visit in Co-opolis makes me anxious to read it.”
“Yes,” I replied. “Probably the book did have more to do with my
selection than anything else. I certainly hope you will read it, because
I have endeavored in that book to explain the whole co-operative system
as industrially applied in this state, and, while you will hardly read
it for pleasure, you will understand our system better if you study it.”
The term of President Henderson of Co-opolis had expired the year before
and I had been selected to succeed him both as President of the
Association and Governor of Idaho. I had also completed the latter part
of 1910 my work referred to by Charlie Woodberry. Whatever may be said
of the book, it was a success from the outset.
It was adopted as a text-book in all the co-operative schools in Idaho,
Washington, Oregon, Utah, California, Colorado, Nebraska and the two
Dakotas, and in many other states and territories, and was read
extensively by the more intelligent of the general public. Most economic
works were, up to the time “Co-operative Economy” made its appearance,
devoted to analysis and explanation of the competitive system. My work
discussed Co-operation as it was and as it ought to be. In our schools
such a work was needed, as co-operation was the chief study pursued in
conjunction with all useful branches. I suppose it must be admitted that
this work gives me more satisfaction at this time than anything I have
ever done, because, although the Publishing department was successful
under my administration, it was not due to my sole efforts.
“Co-operative Economy” was my own thought and was produced outside of
the work which the Association assigned me.
“Mr. Braden,” said Charlie, “I would be glad to ask you a few questions
about co-operation and the Co-opolitan Association if you would kindly
answer them. I have a general idea of the system, but its features are
not clear to my mind. If I could get in a nutshell a few truths—or what
you claim to be truths—I believe I could read your books with much more
interest.”
“Ask me any question you please, Charlie. If I cannot answer them your
sister there will,” I replied.
“Charlie and I have already had some correspondence and talks on the
subject,” said Caroline. “He does not think the system attractive.”
“I will not say it is not attractive,” returned Charlie, shaking his
head. “I simply say it is not attractive as I understand it. Now, take,
for instance, the feature which makes the Association own everything.
That is very distasteful to me. Nobody can ever own his own home, even.”
“Well, Charlie,” said I, “that is the way you have been educated. If you
had been taught to believe that personal ownership of property was a
burden, and had a tendency to diminish your personal security, you would
view the case in a different light. Think a minute. Take a Mongolian
when an infant, transfer him to London, rear him as a Christian and an
Englishman and he will despise the system and religion of China. But
take an English baby and let him be reared in Pekin as a Chinaman and he
will doubtless hold London and Christianity in abhorrence.
“We talk of the peculiarities of the Chinese mind, and doubtless there
are many which have been formed by the education and environments of
centuries of time; but the Chinese education is more responsible for the
Chinese mind than nature is.
“You have been taught that it is desirable to have property stand in
your name. In the competitive system to own property makes you the
object of attack. It is dangerous. You are always fearful that somebody
will rob you. If you own none, in the competitive system, you are
despised, no matter what your personal merits may be.
“Yet you can only use what you own and you can do no more with what you
borrow.
“Why should you wish to own it, then, if you only get the use of it in
any event? In the co-operative system it has been found convenient to
have individuals own certain things. They own their own furniture, their
clothes, wall pictures and small ornaments. In short, they own whatever
in the house is severable from it, including tools which they employ for
private use and what they can lightly carry about their person.
“They do not own house or grounds. They simply have the use of them. But
they are entitled to the use of house, grounds and all the conveniences
connected with them as long as they wish. Their children after them are
entitled to that use. In the competitive system you cannot get more.
Co-operation also assumes the cares of the Co-operators as far as
material things are concerned. You do not have to worry about the
ownership of that which has no other than use value. In competition you
have to own your property, care for it personally, protect it and pay
taxes. This diverts your mind from thought and fills it with worry, and
in addition to that people overlook your merit and inquire, not what you
are, but what you have, and woe betide you, whatever your merit, if you
have nothing.”
“But does not common ownership and the inability of the occupant to own
his home render him careless and wasteful? Does he take such an interest
in his home as he would if he could call it his?”
“The ownership of the home in the competitive system does not make the
owner so careful to avoid waste as our system makes the tenant. As I
have said, the occupant, be he owner or tenant, can enjoy only the use
of his house during his life.
“In the competitive system how many owners waste their houses? Some are
drunkards and mortgage them and waste their value in drink. Some are
gamblers, and lose the value at the gaming table. Some insure them and
burn them to get the insurance money. Some go into business, mortgage
the home for money or credit, fail and lose the property. Thousands of
houses stand idle and go to waste in every competitive state, while
thousands of homeless people walk the streets in every large city or
tramp the country roads. In our system the state cares for every home
and make a home for every man. The man knows his home is permanent. It
cannot be taken from him without his consent.”
“But he cannot convey it to his children,” said Charlie.
“No. He cannot compel his children to take it whether they will or not.
But if the children desire it, when the occupant dies or departs, they
may have it on the same terms if they are members of the Industrial Army
that their parents did. Let me say, however, that when the children
marry they generally present a design of a house which suits them better
than the old homestead and the Association builds them a house to suit
them. Is not that better?”
“So much for the home,” remarked Charlie. “I am almost satisfied with
your explanation. It at least gives me the cue so that I can study the
subject fully. Now, I have long felt that you were asking a man to be a
slave and give up his personal liberty by entering the Industrial Army.
Why is not that true?”
“Charlie, are you a slave to-day?” I asked.
“No, indeed!” exclaimed Charlie, almost indignant.
“Is a government official a slave?”
“Of course not.”
“How about a soldier in the regular army?”
“Why, he is certainly not a slave.”
“How about a clerk in the postoffice department, for instance? Is he not
in the same position as a member of the Industrial Army?”
“No. It is a similar service, but he serves his government and country.”
“What is your business, Charlie?”
“Accountant for the Waumkeag Cotton Manufacturing Company.”
“What are your wages?”
“Eighty dollars per month.”
“How many hours a day do you work?”
“Ten hours.”
“Is it slavery to work ten hours a day for a private corporation, for
eighty dollars per month, and not own any interest in the corporation?
Remember that the Co-opolitan Association pays one hundred dollars per
month and requires only seven hours’ work per day at the most. Then
every minute’s work in the competitive system is for private persons,
while in the co-operative system it is for the public good.”
“Well. But suppose I should want to leave the service of the Association
after I had worked for it ten years or less. Could I withdraw my part of
the accumulated wealth and take it away?”
“You could withdraw your wages and no more. You could go where you
please with the wages.”
“But the accumulated capital. Would it not be unjust not to let me have
my part of that?”
“Charlie! I forgive you, of course, but you are brilliantly stupid. How
long have you been at work for the corporation which now employs you?”
“Three years.”
“If you should work for that corporation fifty years would you get any
more than your wages if you should withdraw?”
“No.”
“Who would get the benefit of your work?”
“Why, the stockholders.”
“Yes, or perhaps the bondholders! You could invest your wages in stock
in that corporation if you chose. You cannot invest them in the
Association. But after investing in the cotton company you are liable to
be frozen out by the big holders. Now, frankly, do you not see that you
may work forty years for your company and then in old age have not
enough to sustain life from day to day? This could not occur in our
system. We exact now twenty-five years’ work of each member and then he
is free. After he has given us twenty-five years’ work he becomes
entitled to his dividend for the rest of his life just the same as if he
worked.”
“That sounds well, Mr. Braden. But have you any such retired members
yet?”
“You must not call them retired members. We believe that those who earn
freedom by twenty-five years’ work will be among our most useful
members. They will still be interested in our work. They will still
participate in our elections. They will take a personal interest in
maintaining and guarding the Association whence they draw their income.
Our Association is now only fifteen years old. In ten years more three
hundred of us will be entitled to release from systematic labor. It is
possible that the Association will give us earlier release, as our
co-operative wealth is so great at present, and is increasing so
rapidly, that we are considering the propriety of diminishing the number
of hours of labor per day to six and the number of years to twenty. We
have many persons who have earned long furloughs. In every such instance
the member during his or her furlough is a useful member. If he travels
he brings home to us the best of information. If he seeks pleasure he
studies that very important pursuit and we learn from him how to make
life enjoyable.”
“You certainly are able to make pertinent and seemingly complete
answers, Mr. Braden. I shall ask my questions now, not to puzzle but to
elicit information. Suppose a member becomes sick. Does that stop his
income or dividend?”
“If a member becomes sick he is turned over to the Health department. As
long as he is in the charge of the Health department his income
continues.”
“Who pays for his treatment by physicians?”
“He pays for it himself out of his income from the Association.”
“Suppose he should wish to change his climate in order to recover? How
shall he make a change?”
“If the Health department reports such a remedy for any sick member of
the Industrial Army leave of absence is granted and he is permitted to
go to such climate as is recommended.”
“Suppose a man dies leaving a wife and family after five years’
employment. What does the Association do for the family?”
“The funeral expenses are paid and the family receives the deceased
member’s income until the youngest child becomes of age, provided the
child remains in the Educational department. If the widow is healthy and
able to work she is received into the Industrial Army.”
“When a man enters the Army does he become entitled to the full income
of a member in good standing at once?”
“He does not. The first year he or she receives only one-third of the
income of a member. The second year and all years after he receives as
much as anyone. Members are on probation the first year. The three years
members are entitled to promotion to higher grades and the members
during the first three years are required to do the drudgery of the
Association. We have made exceptions to this rule when we have offered
inducements to skilled laborers, but otherwise all who enlist,
especially from the Department of Education, must pass through the three
years course.”
“One more question, Mr. Braden, and I will ask no more until I have read
some chapters of ‘Co-operative Economy.’ Do not your members regard a
new volunteer as an intruder? Do they not consider that he is suddenly
admitted to share what they have produced without making an equal
contribution? You have, say, three million dollars’ worth of wealth in
Idaho. Why should one who never assisted in producing it be admitted to
participate in its benefits without paying a large membership fee?”
“He does pay a fee of one hundred dollars and he gives the first year’s
labor for one-third the income of one member for that time. If he has
not one hundred dollars we do not always exclude him. We simply take it
out of his income. But you must remember that the Association is a great
corporation, in which the shares are not transferable and one member can
only own one share. The Association keeps all the machinery and sources
of production in its exclusive control. Every person who enters to-day
agrees to furnish twenty-five years’ labor. No person can receive the
benefit of such a membership unless he so agrees. The Association,
therefore, has as many twenty-five-year contracts as there are members
of the Industrial Army. Let us suppose that one member has worked for
twenty-four years when a new member is admitted. The latter is now to
work twenty-five years and the former one. The latter is to give
twenty-five years’ work to the former, who one year later must depend
upon the labor of the latter to support him. Tell me which of these men
is getting the advantage, the man whose twenty-five years of labor in
the past has provided the machinery and improved the source of
production or the man whose twenty-five years of the future will operate
the machine and render the source of production fruitful. Is it not a
fair bargain after all? If a man forty-six retires from labor and a man
twenty-one takes his place and supports him will the former object?”
This closed the economic discussion. My wife did not take part except as
a listener, but she was deeply interested. Our little girl had fallen
asleep in her arms and she now softly arose and carried her into the
sleeping apartment. Charlie and I still continued on the veranda a
little longer enjoying the pure and cool atmosphere, and pursued our
conversation on lighter subjects.