Considering the division of power, does this adjustment of

responsibility appeal to any fair-minded person? It has occurred to

some of us that if we or our organizations were assessed in hard cash

in proportion to our responsibility for some of these preventable

accidents, the casualty lists on our railroads would very quickly

assume microscopic proportions. An “Employees’ Liability Act” would, of

course, be looked upon as an absurdity; yet if unprejudiced judges were

to analyze a few of our accidents, they would quickly conclude that

the idea is sanely and soberly logical. They would simply consider the

matter in the light of fair and square taxation with unmistakable and

ample representation. It must not be forgotten that the manifestation

of power by railroad labor is to be looked for not so much in the

wording of schedules and agreements as in what the managements of

railroads under pressure _feel constrained to refrain from doing_. The

fairness and cogency of this argument may not “be as deep as a well”

nor “as wide as a church door,” but I think, in the words of Mercutio,

“’tis enough.” The questions and considerations that arise in this way

in regard to the interests of the public, the management, and the men,

are all comprehensively included and can be profitably discussed under

the simple caption of loyalty,--on the one hand, loyalty of the men to

their employers, and, on the other, loyalty of the employers to the men.

No sincere well-wisher of the railroad employee will question the

importance of the relation that exists, or that is supposed to exist,

on American railroads, between labor and loyalty. Volumes have been

written about loyalty in the abstract. For the most part politicians

and teachers of national morality and patriotism have monopolized

these arguments. The former would sink individualism in the interest

of the machine, the latter for the good of their country. Granted the

purity of their motives, the efforts of these people are entirely

praiseworthy; and yet the significance and importance of loyalty

in the industrial life of the nation can by no means be said to be

included in the teachings of either politician or patriot. On American

railroads, in particular, the question of the loyalty of employees to

the corporations and to the interests of the public is vastly more

important than a superficial glance at the subject would lead one to

suppose. Understanding as we do the ever-increasing influence of the

employee, the problem which we have now to consider relates to what

at the present day he is doing with his power, and to what, with his

ever-increasing importance, he intends to do with it in the time to

come. The future holds in it the answer to these questions in terms of

selfishness and abuse of power, or in terms of loyalty to himself, the

corporations, and the public.

To attempt to give a definition of loyalty to apply to and to cover

this railroad business would simply be time and effort thrown away.

It is one thing to impress upon learned and critical readers that

individualism is in error and that loyalty is “willing and practical

devotion to a cause that is outside of the individual and larger than

he is.” It is quite another affair, and altogether more important,

to reproduce our philosophy in terms of actual conduct and behavior.

Not one railroad man in a thousand has either the time or the mental

training to study theories, and from the teachings of professors to

work out rules for his daily guidance; yet it is manifest that the

most useful and wholesome ideas can be put to little practical utility

in this railroad business until the employee is aroused, and some

practical interpretation of them brought home to him with unmistakable

sincerity and emphasis. While, therefore, it is unnecessary to supply

railroad men with a definition of loyalty, it will be just as well to

call attention to some of its most important features.

Loyalty then, as applied to the railroad service, means the safety of

the traveling public so far as human safeguards can be depended upon.

Again, comparing the service as it actually is with what it might be,

loyalty means the elimination of numerous petty delays, and at times

serious blockades, which, at the present day, on many railroads, are so

annoying to the traveling public. This matter of delays to passenger

trains is quite an important feature, and it is surprising how much

the personality of the men and their interpretation of loyalty to

the public interest figure in the problem. Furthermore, a stricter

interpretation of loyalty by employees on any given railroad can easily

be shown to mean a positive reduction in operating expenses to the tune

of thousands upon thousands of dollars. These additional resources

placed at the disposal of the management would mean, of course, funds

wherewith to satisfy the never-ceasing demands of employees for better

conditions and increase of pay. Finally, loyalty means fidelity; and

with fidelity comes sympathy; and with sympathy comes practical and

earnest coöperation between management and men, without which safe and

efficient service is liable to be a mere delusion and will-o’-the-wisp.

Now, while it is a pleasure to bear witness to the steadfast loyalty,

frequently under trying conditions, of numerous individual employees,

it is nevertheless the duty of the unprejudiced investigator to call

attention to the fact that the tendency of the forces that are at work

in this railroad business at the present day, on the part both of

the men and of the management, is simply and positively to eliminate

loyalty as a useful and essential factor in the administration of

affairs. While the public, the management, and the men are mixed up

in the responsibility for this unsatisfactory condition, the blame

for the lack of sympathetic coöperation, which is only another term

for loyalty, that exists among us, must, to begin with, be laid at the

door of the employee himself. This is by no means the hasty opinion of

an individual thinker. Professor Royce, an eminent authority on the

subject, in a lecture delivered at the Lowell Institute in Boston,

describes the situation very emphatically in the following language:--

“The trades-unions demand and cultivate the loyalty of their members;

but they emphasize the thesis that to be loyal to his union the laborer

must disregard certain duties to the community at large and to the

nation, duties which loyalty to loyalty seems obviously to require.”

By loyalty to loyalty, Professor Royce means “the maximum of loyalty

to the world.” But professors and students of industrial conditions

are by no means unsupported in their conclusions. That labor leaders

themselves are aware of the inherent weakness of our position may

be inferred from the following extract from an editorial in “The

International Railroad Employee” for November, 1907.

“I may not lay claim to either the age or wisdom to advise my brother

workers what to do, but if you will consider some of my suggestions

relative to your actions and surroundings, and talk them over among

yourselves, I am sure you will be able to find the world brighter for

you. You seldom, if ever, give any serious thought to bettering your

condition except by hoping for better wages. _Your ideals begin and end

with wages_, and so long as that be true there is no possibility of

your condition being bettered.”

Surely this is a most uncomfortable and damaging confession.

Interpreted in terms of railroad service, it should have the effect

of causing the public to sit up and think it all over. With all our

education and enlightenment, is it really a fact that the ideals and

humanity of the American railroad man can be crammed into a nutshell in

this way by honest and practical investigators, and labeled “wages”?

At the present day the assertion that corporations are soulless has

almost the nature and force of an axiom. It would now appear, according

to the authorities just quoted, that the policy and ideals of labor,

as represented by the American railroad man, are not only soulless but

brainless as well.

So far in this discussion we have been dealing with theories

and opinions. It now remains to be seen, by actual example and

illustration, upon what ground or basis these theories have been

advanced. In plain English, what is the actual and manifest cost, in

character and dollars, of this lack of loyalty to the world at large

which is a distinguishing feature of railroad life at the present day?

It is hardly fair to call it a lack of individual loyalty, for at heart

the American railroad man is thoroughly loyal; but, unfortunately, the

systems of labor organization and management under whose direction he

works, practically call upon him to renounce his personal principles in

the interest of schedules and agreements which constitute the machinery

of the operating department.

It may, of course, be taken for granted that managers of railroads are

well aware of the importance and value of practical loyalty in all

branches of the service; and yet when one examines the evidence with

a view to ascertaining what they actually do for its encouragement,

one is driven to conclude that there must be some kind of a hitch

somewhere. As an illustration let us take the following incident, which

is almost an everyday occurrence:--

Freight train No. 1 pulls into a yard a few miles outside the terminal.

The train and engine crew are on overtime; that is to say, every hour

they remain out on the road means a great many dollars in wages over

and above their regular pay. Before long, another freight train, No.

2, overtakes train No. 1. Instead of pulling into the yard and doing

its work in turn, this second train runs up the main line and backs in

ahead of train No. 1, thus putting it in a pocket. In this way train

No. 1 is delayed three or four hours, thus causing the engine to be

late for the return service; and altogether an extra and entirely

unnecessary expense of perhaps fifty dollars is entailed upon the

railroad.

A few days later, the writer, happening to meet the engineman of train

No. 2, spoke to him in regard to the affair. He appeared to be very

much surprised that his conduct should be questioned or criticised in

any way. He had supposed it was every man’s duty to shift for himself;

to _jump_ another train whenever an opportunity presented itself, and

to get to his destination as quickly as possible. The question of the

interest of the company was a side issue, to which he paid little

attention. If loyalty of this kind was a matter of importance to the

company, why, he contended, was the attention of the men not called

to such matters in some emphatic way? So far as he was aware, the

management had little to say on any subject except as its views were

set forth in the rules and regulations. In his opinion it was every

man for himself on the one hand, and every official for himself on the

other; and whenever their interests or opinions clashed, it became

the duty of the management and the grievance committee to settle the

differences. This engineman was not far wrong so far as concerned

the actual conditions of his daily work; and yet the management of a

railroad takes a good deal more interest in such matters than this man

had any idea of.

Some time ago a vice-president of one of our railroad systems addressed

a gathering of some five hundred railroad station-agents and clerks. He

had a good deal to say to the men about loyalty. He tried to impress

upon his hearers that railroad men should think less about their wages

and their material prosperity and more about character and the duties

they owed to their employers and to the public. The prosperity of

the men was in every way dependent upon the prosperity of the road;

consequently, every act of loyalty, every little economy, was a genuine

factor in obtaining satisfactory results and returns for the road.

In the matter of supplies, for example, employees could do splendid

work for the road if they would only put their minds to it. But it

was not such an easy matter nowadays to put a stop to waste in some

departments, even when its practice was shameful and persistent. Of

course, it was an easy matter to find fault with a station-agent if he

used a pint of ink over and above his allowance; but when the operating

department consumed thousands of gallons of oil per year more than

was absolutely necessary, the problem became much more complicated.

However, seeing that reporters were excluded from the hall, he would

venture to say that in the single case of oil it was possible for

engine crews, by the exercise of the simplest loyalty and regard for

the prosperity of the road, to reduce the expenditure in that one item

to the extent of many thousands of dollars per year. But, of course, in

the interest of harmony it would never do to tell enginemen and firemen

that they are deliberately wasteful or lacking in loyalty to their

employers.

To say the least, one gets the impression from these remarks that

railroad officials are called upon to pursue their labors with

something in the nature of a “sword of Damocles” suspended over their

heads. However, it must not be supposed that instances of loyalty on a

railroad are few and far between. On the contrary, from time to time

the attention of the management is directed to instances of conspicuous

and profitable loyalty.

Some time ago one of the largest freight yards in the western part

of the state enjoyed a very unenviable reputation for breakages of

draw-bars, derailments of cars, and all sorts of unnecessary delays to

passenger trains. Finally a change was made in the yard-master. The

new man began operations with heart-to-heart conversations with the

yardmen. If they had grievances he was ready to straighten them out.

The men had his sympathy and backing, and in return he requested their

coöperation in order to convert the record of the yard from the worst

to the best on the system.

Working in this sympathetic yet practical way, in a year’s time he had

succeeded even beyond his expectation. While handling a much larger

volume of business, the operating expenses and the bills for breakages

were reduced many thousands of dollars.

Illustrations of a similar nature can be multiplied indefinitely,

but one will serve as well as a hundred to demonstrate the fact that

railroad men as a rule give little thought to the matter, and that

railroad managers, while quite aware of its significance and value,

seldom go out of the beaten routine of their regular duties to impress

upon their employees the importance of the issues at stake. The

following somewhat remarkable illustration will throw additional light

on the subject:--

On one of the busiest sections of a New England railroad a certain

foreman has charge of a gang of men. This foreman is a good average

man, something of a “hustler,” and thoroughly capable and experienced.

When carefully examined, however, his record revealed the fact that he

had been unable to keep a man on his gang more than a month or two at a

time. During ten or twelve years’ service he had to break in and teach

the business, practically in vain, to upwards of two hundred green men.

Now there is a right and a wrong way of driving spikes and tamping

ties, and poor and inexperienced work means broken rails, jumping of

track by cars, and a variety of accidents. The foreman in question

is a thoroughly conscientious man. In driving his men in unreasonable

fashion he fancies he is working in the interests of the railroad

company. He considers himself loyal to the backbone, and yet he is

probably the most expensive section foreman on the division.

[Illustration: A TYPICAL DERAILMENT]

At another point on the same railroad a different kind of a section

foreman is stationed. This man has been on one and the same section for

fifteen years, and of his original gang of seven men he still retains

five. Of the two who are missing, one is dead, the other accumulated

a little competency and retired from the service. This foreman is,

comparatively speaking, a very quiet man. He is methodical and exact

in everything he does. He always addresses his men in a low tone, but

with considerable emphasis. His men like him, and they work behind

his back in exactly the same manner as when he is standing over them.

His conduct is not so much a matter of temperament as of downright

calculation and of thought upon the real value and meaning of loyalty

to the interests of his employers.

Drawing up the facts in the cases of these two foremen, the writer

sent them to an experienced road-master, with the request that he

would kindly give him an idea as to what, in his opinion, would be

the difference in actual cash value of the services to the railroad

of these two foremen. He replied that he was much interested in

the question, and had looked up the records of the sections with

considerable minuteness, and was of the opinion that the conduct and

loyalty of the foreman in the second illustration represented a saving

to the company of at least a thousand dollars a year. But in answer to

a further inquiry as to what notice or encouragement the loyalty of the

men received in his department, he replied that no particular attention

was paid to it by the management, that such matters were allowed to

drift, for the simple reason that the men were organized and that

the agreements between the company and the unions call for promotion

in turn, or what practically amounts to the same thing, and that,

in short, there was certainly no organized method or means by which

loyalty could be recognized or rewarded.

For the purpose of demonstrating the value of a thoughtful

consideration of the interests of a railroad corporation, no

illustration can be considered too insignificant. At a certain junction

point a man has charge of fifty lamps. At another station another

man secures equally good results from the same number of lamps while

burning a fraction of a cent’s worth less oil per lamp per night. By

actual investigation and test, it was discovered that the second man

handled the business with a saving to the company of practically one

dollar per year per lamp. This was very interesting when one considers

the thousands of switch and other lamps that burn nightly all the year

round on a railroad system. Carrying the inquiry a little farther, the

writer was able to ascertain that, so far as known, only two or three

railroads in the United States take any notice of such information

when they happen to possess it; they do not commend the employees for

faithful service, and thus stimulate others to like meritorious efforts.

The Santa Fé Railroad is a notable exception to the general rule. In

December, 1907, this road published a list of employees who had been

heartily thanked by the management and given merit marks for loyalty

to the road and the public, not only in cases of emergency, but in

the simplest cases of thoughtfulness and economical workmanship. The

following is taken from a list of forty:--

“E. H. Vaden, Engineer, and W. L. Sims, Fireman, ten merit marks each

for discovering switch in bad condition and without a light, making it

safe and afterwards providing a light.”

At the risk of making a slight digression from the main line of

my argument, I am tempted to add a few lines regarding methods of

management on the Santa Fé. They are taken from a report of one of

the officials, and probably represent the most up-to-date and sanest

railroad management in the country to-day:--

“To make an effort to reduce injuries and accidents to the lowest

possible minimum, the company has felt justified in creating an office

to handle in a systematic manner the question of preventing accidents

and injuries. Great and astonishing results can be obtained along

these lines by constant attention and earnest work on the part of the

person in charge of this office, and by securing the coöperation of all

employees and the assistance of the heads of the different departments.

It is, therefore, very necessary that the ‘_safety officer_’ be as

thoroughly acquainted as possible with all the men over the entire

system, and personally call their attention to the importance of

lending their assistance to this cause.”

In contrast to the personal attention that is paid to the human element

on the Santa Fé, let us glance at the methods pursued on railroads

in the East. You will find in our railroad offices an exact record

and working history of every piece of equipment, from a spike to a

locomotive. Every draw-bar, every coupler, every passenger coach, and

practically every engine-tire has to give an account of itself. The

performances of these “parts” are carefully scrutinized and watched.

You will be shown all sorts of diagrams, charts, and volumes of

statistics going to show the care and expense devoted to equipment and

machinery. But if you happen to ask for a few human statistics you are

likely to be disappointed. For instance, if a certain train crew runs a

freight train two hundred times in a year, breaking seventy draw-bars

and upon different occasions delaying thirty-seven passenger trains,

and another crew under very similar conditions pulls out only thirteen

draw-bars and delays only nine passenger trains, you may consider the

records quite important; but in the railroad offices you will find

no statistics of this nature, no comparative statements and diagrams

illustrative of the workmanship and character of different men and of

the value and significance of the human element in the running of a

railroad. In a word, you will infer from your investigation that if it

isn’t a machine or a piece of machinery it isn’t worth bothering about.

Finally, let us take a very significant illustration, in which the

traveling public should be somewhat interested. The other day a

through passenger train arrived at a junction in the western part

of Massachusetts. It was on its way east, and was practically on

time. But at this point it became necessary for the engineman to

renew the water-supply. Consequently he cut off his engine and ran

down some little distance to the water-stand. After an interval of

twenty minutes, as the engine had not returned to the train, the

station-master went down to investigate the delay. He found the

engineman and fireman sitting quietly in the cab waiting for a brakeman

to come and turn on the water. It was some brakeman’s duty to do this

work at this point, and as he failed to appear, business came to a

standstill. The engineman knew his rights and stuck to them. The idea

of loyalty to the interests of the corporation and the public could

not be permitted to enter into the question, for the reason that to do

another man’s work, even in a case of emergency, would be to surrender

rights and privileges which had been fought for and secured after

months of agitation and diplomacy. The train was thirty minutes late at

its destination. In such cases the management is helpless.

It matters little that my illustrations may be criticised as uncommon

occurrences. The principle that tolerates the situation is surely out

of place on a railroad. By way of contrast, the following item taken

from the merit list on the Santa Fé Railroad is both interesting and

significant:--

“J. E. Helms, Engineer, and M. C. Collins, Fireman, ten merit marks for

coaling up engine 1029 when the coal chute was out of service.”

Strange as the statement may seem at first sight, we railroad people

at the present day are suffering from a very peculiar form of mental

blindness. Perhaps the point will be more comprehensible if we call it

“department paralysis.” Our vision seems to be strictly limited to our

own departments or spheres of action. In this way every department on

a railroad is loyal to itself and more or less forgetful of the other

departments. For example, the operating department is responsible for

the care and prompt movement of trains. In a general way it is taken

for granted that these movements must be made with safety as well as

dispatch. And yet, looking into the matter closely, we are able to

discover that dispatch and not safety is the main feature and business.

Unfortunately there is no safety department on a railroad, or rather

safety takes pot-luck in all the departments. Altogether, safety

finds it no easy matter to secure recognition, and city governments,

railroad commissioners, and railroad officials all seem to suffer from

department paralysis upon occasions when loyalty to the interests of

the traveling public would seem to demand a much clearer and wider

vision. To all appearances it is impossible for these departments to

see beyond the precincts of their own particular hobby or vocation. Let

us take a very pertinent illustration:--

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