CHAPTER XII

WILL BIRTH CONTROL HELP THE CAUSE OF LABOR?

Labor seems instinctively to have recognized the fact that its

servitude springs from numbers. Seldom, however, has it applied its

knowledge logically and thoroughly. The basic principle of craft

unionism is limitation of the number of workers in a given trade. This

has been labor's most frequent expedient for righting its wrongs.

Every unionist knows, as a matter of course, that if that number is

kept small enough, his organization can compel increases of wages,

steady employment and decent working conditions. Craft unionism has

succeeded in attaining these insofar as it has been able to apply this

principle. It has failed insofar as it has been unable to apply it.

The weakness of craft unionism is that it does not carry its principle

far enough. It applies its policy of limitation of numbers only to the

trade. In his home, the worker, whether he is a unionist or

non-unionist, goes on producing large numbers of children to compete

with him eventually in the labor market.

"The history of labor," says Teresa Billington-Greig in the _Common

Sense of The Population Question_, "is the history of an ever

unsuccessful effort upon the part of man to bring his productive

ability as a worker up to his reproductive ability. It has been a

losing battle all the way."

The small percentage of highly skilled, organized workers lead in the

struggle for better conditions. Craft unions, by limiting the number

of men available for any one trade, manage to procure better pay,

shorter hours and other advantages for their members.

Disaster, in the form of famine, pestilence, tidal waves, earthquakes

or war, sometimes limits the number of available workers. Then those

who live in parts of the world that are not affected, or who stay at

home during wars, reap a temporary advantage. These advantages,

however, are quickly offset by increased prices, or by competition for

jobs when soldiers return from war. This form of limitation of numbers

works to the advantage of labor as long as it is available, but great

disasters are not constantly in operation while the worker's

reproductive ability is. So in a few years they have lost what

nature's destructiveness won for them.

The great mass of the workers--including children and women--are

unskilled and unorganized. Not only that, they are for some

considerable part of the time seeking employment. They are, of course,

poorly paid. Thus, through their low wages and their seeking of

employment, they always come into direct competition with one another

and with the skilled and organized workmen. As their families live in

want and are often diseased, they create the chief social problems of

the day. They bring children into the world as fast as women can bear

them. With each child they increase their own misery and provide

another worker to force down wages and prolong hours, through

competition for employment.

This has been the way of labor from the beginning. It is labor's way

in every country.

Having discovered that there is no relief in legislation, labor

organizes to limit its numbers in certain trades. Meanwhile the women

of the working class go on breeding more workers to wipe out in the

future the advantages gained for the present. In Paris, for instance,

the proletarian quarters of the city show a birth rate more than three

times as high as the birth rate in the well-to-do sections.

"Dr. Jacques Bartillon furnishes us with statistics which prove that

the birth rate in any quarter of Paris is in inverse ratio to its

degree of affluence," says G. Hardy in _How to Prevent Pregnancy_.

"The rich Champs-Elysees has a birth rate a third of that Bellerville

or of the Buttes-Chaumont. From 1,000 women from the age of fifteen to

fifty, Menimontant gives 116 births; the Champs-Elysees thirty-four

births.

"It is the same in Berlin. For 1,000 women from the age of fifteen to

that of fifty, a very poor quarter gives 157 births; a rich quarter

gives 47 births."

And so it is the world over. The very word "proletarian," as Hardy

points out, means "producer of children."

The children thus carelessly produced undermine the health of the

mother, deepen the family's poverty, destroy the happiness of the

home, and dishearten the father; all this in addition to being future

competitors in the labor market. Too often their increasing number

drives the mother herself into industry, where her beggarly wages tend

to lower the level of those of her husband.

The first sickening feature of this general situation is the high

infant mortality among the children of the workers. Many children come

merely to sap the strength of the mother, suffer and die, leaving to

show for their coming and going only an increased burden of sorrow and

debt. The lower the family income, the more of these babies die before

they are a year old.

A survey of infant mortality in Johnstown, Pa., by the federal

Children's Bureau, gave these typical results for the year 1911:

Infant Mortality

Father's Earnings Rate

Under $521.................. 197.3

$521 to $624................ 193.1

$625 to $779................ 163.1

$780 to $899................ 168.4

$900 to $1,199.............. 142.3

$1,200 or over.............. 102.

Ample........................ 88.

These figures do not represent the total income of all families.

Neither will money buy as much in 1920 as it did in 1911. Seventy per

cent of the people of the United States have incomes of less than

$1,000. This means that from 142 to 197 children born into such

families die before they are one year old. The births and deaths of

these children represent just so much useless burden of anguish and

sorrow to the workers.

Despite this high infant death rate, the workers of the United States

still have more children than they can care for. There are enough of

them left over to provide 3,000,000 child laborers, who by working for

a pittance crowd their parents out of employment and force the

families deeper into poverty.

When all is said and done, the workers who produce large families have

themselves to blame for the hundreds of thousands of unemployed

grasping for jobs, for the strike breakers, for the policemen who beat

up and arrest strikers and for the soldiers who shoot strikers down.

All these come from the families of workingmen. Their fathers and

mothers are workers for wages. Out of the loins of labor they come

into the world and compel surplus labor to betray labor that is

employed.

Nor is this all. When a workman of superior strength and skill,

protected by his union, manages to maintain a large or moderate sized

family in a degree of comfort, there always comes a time when he must

strike to preserve what he has won. If he is not beaten by unorganized

workers who seek his job, he still has to face the possibility of

listening to the cries of several hungry children. If the strike is a

long one, these cries often down the promptings of loyalty and class

interest--often they defeat him when nothing else could.

Is it any wonder that under handicaps like these labor becomes

confused and flounders? It has been offered a multitude of

remedies--political reforms, wage legislation, statutory regulation of

hours, and so on. It has been invited to embrace craft and industrial

unionism, syndicalism, anarchism, socialism as panaceas for its

liberation. Except in a few countries, it has not attained to

aggressive power, but has been a tool for unscrupulous politicians.

Even with the temporary advantages gained by the wiping out of

millions of workers in the Great War, labor's problem remains

unsolved. It has now, as always, to contend with the crop of young

laborers coming into the market, and with the ever-present "labor-saving"

machine which, instead of relieving the worker's situation,

makes it all the harder for him to escape. Fewer laborers are needed

to-day for a given amount of production and distribution than before

the invention of these machines. Yet, owing to the increase in the

number of the workers, labor finds itself enslaved instead of

liberated by the machine.

"Hitherto," says John Stuart Mill, "it is questionable if all the

mechanical inventions yet made have lightened the day's toil of any

human being. They have enabled a greater population to live the same

life of drudgery and imprisonment, and an increased number of

manufacturers and others to make fortunes."

That, in a few words, sums up the greater part of labor's progress. We

blame capitalism and its wasteful, brutal industrial system for all

our social problems, but our numbers were vast and our bondage

grievous before modern industry came into existence. We may curse the

trusts, but our subjection was accomplished before the trusts had

emerged from the brain of evolution. We may blame public officials and

individual employers, but our burdens were crushing before these were

born. We look now here, now there, for the cause of our

condition--everywhere but at the one to blame. We fight again and

again for our rights, only to be conquered by our own kind, our

own children, our brother's, our neighbor's.

Let us carry to its logical conclusion the principle of limitation

which has been partially applied by labor unions. The way to get rid

of labor problems, unemployment, low wages, the surplus, unwanted

population, is to stop breeding. They come from our own ranks--from

our own families. The way to get better wages, shorter hours, a new

system for the advancement of labor, is to make labor's numbers fewer.

Let us not wait for war, famine and plague to do it. Let us cease

bringing unwanted children into the world to suffer a while, add to

our burdens and die. Let us cease bringing others into the world to

compete with us for a living. Let the women workers practice birth

control.

What are the concrete things which the worker can gain at once through

birth control? First, a small family can live much better than a large

one upon the wages now received. Workers could be better fed, clothed

and educated. Again, fewer children in the families of the workers

would tend to check the rise in the prices of food, which are forced

up as the demand increases. Within a few years it would reduce the

number of workers competing for jobs. The worker could the more easily

force society to give him more of the product of his labor--or all of

it. And while these things are taking place, the slums, with their

disease, their moral degradation and all their sordid accompaniments,

would automatically disappear. No worker would need to live in such

tenements--hence they would be modernized or torn down. At the same

time, the few children that were being born to the workers would be

stronger, healthier, more courageous. They would be fit human

beings--not miserable victims of murderous conditions.

Birth control does not propose to replace any of the idealistic

movements and philosophies of the workers. It is not a substitute, it

precedes. It is of itself a principle that lifts the heaviest of the

burdens that afflict labor. It can and it must be the foundation upon

which any permanently successful improvement in conditions is

attained. It is, therefore, a necessary prelude in all effective

propaganda.

A few years of systematic agitation for birth control would put labor

in a position to solve all its problems. Labor, organized or

unorganized, must take heed of this fact. Groups and parties working

for a new social order must include it in their programmes. No social

system, no workers' democracy, no Socialist republic can operate

successfully and maintain its ideals unless the practice of birth

control is encouraged to a marked and efficient degree.

In Spain I saw a bull fight. It was in the great arena at Barcelona.

As bull after bull went down, his magnificent, defeated strength

bleeding away through wounds inflicted by his weak but skillful

assailant, I thought of the world of workers and their oppressors.

As each bull was sent into the arena, he was confronted by one

assailant and twenty _confusers_. There was but one enemy for him to

face, but there were twenty brilliant flags, each of a different

color, to distract his attention from the man who held the weapon. No

sooner was his real antagonist in danger, than one of the confusers

fluttered a flag before his anger-maddened eyes. With one toss of his

horns he could have ripped the life from the toreador, but his

confusers were always there with the flags. One after another he

charged them, only to spend the force of his lunges in the empty air.

He found that as he was about to toss one of his confusers into the

air, he was confronted by another flag, which he charged with equal

futility.

Finally, utterly bewildered and exhausted, too spiritless to meet the

attack, he falls under the sword thrust of the toreador. And the sun

shines in the deep blue overhead, the band plays, the ten thousand

gayly-clad spectators shout, while the victim is dragged out to make

room for another.

It is the drama of labor.

It will be the drama of labor until labor finds its real enemy. That

enemy is the reproductive ability of the working class which gluts the

channels of progress with the helpless and weak, and stimulates the

tyrants of the world in their oppression of mankind.

Woman and the New Race · 第 12 / 18 章