regards the men, let us now turn to the management. It will, I think,
be admitted that the running and operation of trains on American
railroads calls for some system of management and discipline that
shall be absolutely untrammeled and free from outside influence or
interference. In a word, the manager of the operating department of a
railroad should be permitted to manage. Public opinion, of course, is
always free to express itself as it thinks fit on this and on kindred
subjects, but it will be found to be utterly unjust in its position if
it allows itself in any way to connive at the undermining of authority,
and at the same time holds this authority responsible for results. Yet
it does not call for a national mind-reader to extract from the history
of public sentiment the uncomfortable conclusion that the laws and the
press of the country, to a great extent, still harbor their ancient
grudge, and are not prepared to treat railroad managers impartially.
So accustomed have managers become to adverse criticism that they are
now almost tongue-tied on the subject of their duties, and simple
sufferance has become the badge of the fraternity. The manager may
now be likened to a horse, willing and able to trot his distance with
credit to himself and his owners; but behind him, on the box-seat,
sits public opinion, the labor organization at his side. The horse is
willing enough, and eager to work and to do his duty, but every effort
to exert himself or to get into his stride is rewarded with a violent
jerk of the rein. The effect of this treatment on any kind of an animal
can be imagined. That the traveling public should be at the mercy of
a three-cornered management of this nature, is rather remarkable. If
managers nowadays were inclined to be autocratic or overbearing in
matters relating to the public safety, there might be some excuse for
the situation. On the contrary, to most people it will appear that
they have already parted with the best part of their birthright. The
following is the agreement on the subject, in force on nearly all
railroads:--
“Employees shall not be disciplined or dismissed without cause. In
case discipline is thought to be unjust, the employee may refer his
case, in writing, to the superintendent, after which he shall be given
a hearing within seven days. The aggrieved party may be present at
all investigations and may be represented by a fellow employee of the
same class. In the event of this investigation proving unsatisfactory,
the case may be appealed to higher officials in regular order. If the
accused is found blameless, his record will remain as previous thereto,
and he shall receive pay for all time lost.”
Such an agreement will, I think, appear to most people to be remarkably
fair and generous. Unfortunately for the interest of the public, it
approaches the danger point. It is very doubtful if many, or any,
private industrial establishments could be persuaded to sign any such
agreement with their employees. Manifestly it makes a cipher of the
superintendent. But taking our agreement just as it is, the manager
should at least be allowed to manage, and appeal should be limited
to the officials of the road. _The line must be drawn just where
responsibility is wanted and needed._ That the management of a railroad
should invite interference or assistance from grievance committees
or national organizations of labor men, in matters of discipline, is
absurd. The situation has been forced upon them. It has been forced
upon them during “rush hours,” when business was at high tide and
pressure, and when the public was clamoring for its fast trains and for
the prompt delivery of freight. Such are the stormy times on railroads,
when discipline is lax and when concessions are granted at the expense
of the public safety. Blame the management if you will,--the results
and consequences are before us for consideration and remedy. Most of
us understand something about rebates on a shipment of oil or cotton
goods, and about the penalties that are enforced against offenders; but
we do not seem to realize the fact that to-day on our railroads there
are, in actual operation, rebates on the efficiency of the service,
which are being paid for by the people, not in dollars and cents, but
in blood and suffering.
But putting on one side public opinion and its influence on the
efficiency of railroad service, what is the nature of the treatment
that the employee himself, with his eyes wide open and his wits about
him, is willing to give to the management and to the public, when he
has the power and the opportunity to work in a little legislation for
himself? For illustration, let us take what is commonly called the
“Bumping Process.” Of course no management in its right mind would
ever originate or put into service any such suicidal arrangement. From
beginning to end it is a ludicrous, at times a pathetic, commentary on
the seniority rule. It works somewhat in this way:--
On account of slack business, a crew consisting of a conductor and two
or three men is relieved from duty. The conductor immediately looks
over his list and picks out another job to his liking, the holder of
which happens to be his junior in the service. The man who is thus
turned out does the same to some one else, and meanwhile the discharged
brakemen have been “bumping” other brakemen. So it goes on from one
end of the division to the other, until some twenty or thirty men have
been “bumped” out of their accustomed and hard-earned places. Finally,
three or four of the youngest employees are bumped into space, at the
end of the string, and the “bumping” ceases for lack of material. The
management has had absolutely nothing to do with the affair; it can
protect neither its own interests nor those of the public. The whole
business must be looked upon as the natural sequel of the seniority
principle. It is a concession granted during “rush hours,” when bumping
was not anticipated. To understand this thoroughly, let us take a
concrete illustration.
On a certain railroad there is a section, say from X to Y, over which
a local freight train has plied daily for a number of years. Along
this route there are, perhaps, as many as fifty large foundries and
industrial plants, to attend to the requirements of which this local
freight was put on the road. The conductor of this train has attended
to this business with satisfaction to his employers, and to the patrons
of the road, for three or four years. He thoroughly understands the ins
and outs of his route, all about the different switches, side-tracks,
dangerous places, and difficulties that are to be encountered. He is
personally acquainted with the foremen of the different establishments.
He knows just what they want and when they want it; he understands when
and where they want cars loaded and emptied. He has the phraseology of
the different side-tracks on the tip of his tongue. When he arrives at
any little town, his switch list reads something like this:--
“Six for Dublin St.” “Two for Jerrys.” “Three for The Middle.” “Seven
for The Hole.”
[Illustration: A REAR-END COLLISION]
In short, our conductor is the right man in the right place. This
is so not only from a business point of view, but from the social
aspect as well, for he has made a home for himself, and all his social
interests are centred in a little town on this route. But suddenly,
without any warning or reason, he is simply “bumped” out of the job,
and a new man, his senior, from another section of the road, takes his
place. This is an actual occurrence, and it is a sad commentary on the
straits to which some managements are reduced. It shows the seniority
principle run into the ground. It is individualism triumphant. Even to
the whole body of employees it is a distasteful proceeding. The senior
man simply “grabs the job,” and consequently twenty other men are
displaced in rotation, the management remaining silent.
And yet there are men, even in high places, who are prepared to defend
this bumping principle. In studying these railroad matters, and while
calling upon managers of different railroads, I was always anxious to
get the general opinions of the officials. One can usually tell, from
the “atmosphere” in these offices, what can be expected in the way of
treatment of employees and so forth out on the road. It was in order to
get some of these impressions--some of this silent information--that I
called upon the United States Commissioner of Labor in Washington. I
asked him for his opinion of the bumping principle. The commissioner
was outspoken in his defense of the bumping business; in fact, he
wished to know what possible objection there could be to it. In so many
words, and with considerable emphasis, he inquired if it was not a much
more desirable state of affairs that the men should be allowed to pick
out their jobs in this way, than that superintendents should be at
liberty to give the preference to their cousins, their brothers-in-law,
and other incompetents? In fact, managers are not to be trusted. If I
wished for evidence, I could turn to the insurance scandals,--the cream
of the appointments handed over to relatives and good-for-nothings. The
commissioner was also of the opinion that in only too many instances
railroad managers are in the habit of making rules which they know only
too well it is impossible for employees to obey.
In the matter of the operating department, there is an abundance of
evidence of an interesting description. What may in many ways be
called abuse of the management is a national habit of long standing.
In years gone by, this adverse criticism was frequently only too well
merited. But the time has now come, in the interest of the public
safety, for some serious second thought on the subject. That the habit
still persists in the most unexpected quarters, is a matter of easiest
demonstration. At the present day the Interstate Commerce Commission
is the laboratory in which all these railroad questions are ground
up, analyzed, classified, and finally sent out in legal packages for
public consumption. With the idea of getting the “atmosphere” of this
department, I quite recently called upon the secretary. He conducted
me over the premises, introduced me to everybody, and was most kind
and courteous in his attentions. He drew my attention to a dozen or
more framed and illuminated testimonials, with which the walls of his
office were pretty well covered. The tenor of these documents was all
the same. Railroad men, telegraphers, organizations and brotherhoods
of laboring men, from different sections of the country, unanimously
testified to their gratitude to the secretary for his efforts and
success in fighting their battles and winning their victories. In a
word, he was their friend.
Remembering where I was, I thereupon looked about me for testimonials
from railroad officials or corporations. I expected to see evidence
of the secretary’s interest and work in behalf of the manager’s side
of the problem, in relation, for instance, to the bringing of men and
managements together in the interest of the public, for whose use
and benefit, as I look at it, railroads are operated. But in this I
was disappointed. My attention was then called to a number of pens,
perhaps half a dozen, with which sundry bills, in the interests of
labor, had been signed by different presidents. But one side of the
question was emphasized.
Finally, I was introduced into a room in which were seated seven or
eight of the railroad inspectors employed by the commission. I had no
sooner given expression to my views, than I became aware that I was
getting into hot water. With one or two exceptions, these men were of
the opinion that I had taken hold of the wrong end of the problem.
It was pointed out to me that superintendents and managers nowadays
are promoted from the wrong material. The inspectors thought that
the officials were nearly always picked out of the clerical force,
instead of from practical, out-on-the-road men, such as engineers and
conductors. Consequently, in their opinion, the managing departments
all over the country are sadly inefficient. As a result, a general
decapitation of incompetent superintendents is now in order, and is the
one thing needful to secure the greatest possible degree of efficiency
in the railroad service.
For something like ten years altogether I have devoted my spare time to
the study of this safety problem on our railroads. During this period I
have never received a word of advice, or encouragement, or assistance
to the extent of a copper, from any manager or from anybody connected
with the management of railroads. My incentive and encouragement have
proceeded in an entirely different way. Some people are content to
stand on their little pedestals and watch the world go round. The
energies and thoughts of quite a number are absorbed in the climbing
of pay-rolls. Others, again, have sensibilities that must be attended
to. These touches of nature should be cultivated. As the world runs
to-day, “business from the start means, only too often, business to the
finish.” I do not think that the American people, the great business
community, at any rate, realizes either the nature or the extent of
these distressing accidents with sufficient acuteness. In the rush of
affairs, sensibility runs the risk of getting smothered. There is a
tendency to call upon money and machinery to accomplish everything.
Finally, let me add that, apart from my opinions on this railroad
situation, or perhaps in spite of them, I am the heartiest kind of an
optimist. At the present day, such splendid possibilities are latent
in every sphere of thought and action that one almost trembles at
the contemplation of them. Even now, as it seems to me, every man in
his little world may be something of a Prospero, for every righteous
thought is a winged Ariel on highest mission.
VI
THE HUMAN EQUATION
It makes little difference what phase of the situation between labor
and management on American railroads we choose to investigate, the
supreme importance of personality and personal responsibility is
impressed upon us at every turn. As with the safety problem in the
operating department, so with all questions relating to piece-work and
the bonus system,--the principle at stake is not only the absolute
right, but the fundamental obligation, of every man to do his level
best under all circumstances, just as truly and inevitably in the
best interests of a railroad as of human progress and civilization.
The story of the stifling of personality and of the neglect of the
human equation in American industrial life, and on the railroads in
particular, will probably have to be related and insisted upon over
and over again before public opinion can be brought to realize the
widespread nature and importance of the issue.
The principles involved in an ordinary preventable accident on a
railroad can be picked out and followed through different stages of
railroad life, all the way up to the leveling process which, generally
speaking, the labor unions insist upon, in promotion by seniority and
in matters relating to mechanical work in the railroad shops. The steps
in the process are all as plain and unmistakable as the rounds of a
ladder. Let us begin with one of the first appearances or germs of the
trouble.
A freight train is backed into a yard or side-track, and by reason of
rough handling or carelessness a small collision occurs, and several
cars loaded with valuable merchandise are jammed down and off the
end of the track into the swamp. The superintendent investigates
the case and decides that the engineman was guilty of rough and
careless handling. The engineman appeals from this decision, claiming
that a wrong motion was given by the brakeman, or the brakes did
not hold,--anyway he appeals, and his contention is taken up and
supported by his organization. After weeks of discussion and attempted
arbitration, the whole business is quietly dropped, because the men
decline to give in and the management, with the business interests of
a wide section of country in actual peril, are not prepared to tie up
the road and fight the issue to a finish. It is useless to minimize the
widespread effect of this interference. I have given an illustration of
a principle that is at work on all railroads, and, in the way I have
described, the men are furnished with a precedent, and the managers
with a very good idea of the difficulties to be expected in the future.
So the manager now goes to work and orders _bunters_ put up at the
end of these tracks in all yards and sidings. He has been driven to
the conclusion that, although it may be out of his power to teach and
enforce carefulness and personal responsibility, he can nevertheless
put up bunters which, when butted against, will act as practical
reminders in regard to the location of the cars and the duties of the
trainmen.
Although the incident described is merely a figurative illustration,
the _bunter principle_ itself is of widespread application, and to-day
is practically the mainstay and sheet anchor of the American railroad
manager. To a much greater extent than an outsider would imagine,
these bunters, derailing switches, and other mechanical devices for
the protection of life and property, are, in the main, confessions of
weakness and indications that the personality of the men along these
particular lines has been tried and found wanting.
As another illustration of our topic, but of a somewhat different
nature, let us now take a glance at what is usually known as the a
“Nine-Hour Law,”--more especially in its application to telegraph
operators.
Twelve or fifteen hours at a stretch is too long a period for any man
or boy to remain in harness. As I look at it, the primary object of
this law is, or should be, to increase the efficiency of the service.
This is particularly desirable, for the reason that some of the worst
wrecks in the history of railroading have been attributed to sleepy
and careless telegraph operators. But it by no means follows that,
because the law has increased the operator’s pay and shortened his
day’s work, it has also increased his efficiency. You can depend upon
a good man, who works twelve hours at a stretch, while you can place
little reliance upon a shiftless fellow who is called upon to work only
nine. To increase efficiency in any department or industry, you must
touch or act upon personality in some way. This giving of something for
nothing by the United States government is at best a very questionable
proceeding, and it is a pity that the nine-hour law could not have
been framed with at least some reference to merit, attention to duty,
and length of service. The man who works eight hours at high pressure
is much more likely to be overworked, and, generally speaking, is
more worthy of assistance than the twelve-hour man, who may handle on
an average one message per hour, and consequently has difficulty in
keeping awake. Unprejudiced judges are of the opinion that, as framed
at present, the law will have no effect whatever upon the efficiency
of the service. Of course the function of a railroad manager is to
promote efficiency, but laws of this description ignore the usual and
constituted authority and divert the attention of the employees to
their unions and to the national government. But now we will take up
this matter of personality and the human equation from a vastly more
important point of view.
A very serious and somewhat remarkable accident took place quite
recently--an engine attached to a passenger train ran into an open
draw and dropped thirty feet, leaving the tender and four coaches,
containing seventy-five passengers, on the brink. The following day,
in a report of this accident, the Boston “Transcript” quoted President
Tuttle of the Boston & Maine Railroad, as follows:--
“You can’t open that draw, you can’t pull the bolts that block it,
until all signals are set for danger, and they remain at danger while
the draw is open. They do not disappear until the draw is closed and
the signals for a clear track are set. The engineman knew these signals
were there, and he knew what they meant. A railroad may supply every
safety device known to modern science for precaution, it may put in the
perfection of safety appliances for the safety of its passengers and
its stock, but you can’t get by the _human equation_. You’ve got to
stop right there. You can only discharge the man and get another, and,
in turn, he is liable to do the same thing.”
Every word of the above statement of the president of the Boston &
Maine Railroad is true. It is the conclusion of common sense, of the
law, and of the prophets on the subject. And yet the criticism which I
intend to apply to it is most damaging.
It is, alas, only too true that practically very little good is
accomplished by discharging a man who runs a passenger train into an
open draw. It is simply a case of locking the stable door after the
horse has been stolen. But the principle of punishment for offenses of
this nature is universally recognized, and in the matter of railroad
accidents it thus becomes the duty of the managers, supported by
public opinion, to see to it that this punishment is inflicted at the
right time and in the right place. On a railroad, with human life and
much valuable property at stake, a system of discipline that does not
punish for trifles is a mockery. As a practical matter of fact, all
mistakes and accidents, without serious consequences, can be written
down as trifles; and taking the situation in a wide sense, covering
all railroads, it is safe to say that there is no power in the country
to-day that is either able or willing to discipline enginemen for
trifles. When a passenger train has been brought to the brink of a
draw, it is too late a day to apply your prevention method.
The battle in regard to this matter has long ago been fought and
won by the men. The Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers is now in a
position to tire out any board of railroad management in the country.
The statement made in Faneuil Hall by a railroad man, that in rush
times the management will “lap up any schedule that is placed before
them,” was no empty boast. The right of unlimited appeal to be found in
the schedules of the organizations has knocked the ground from under
the superintendent and made the punishment for trifles a practical
impossibility. The public may just as well be informed of the facts
now as later. The men upon whose vigilance and caution the safety of
railroad travel is altogether dependent are not being educated in a
school in which even the rudiments or principles of safety are being
taught or insisted upon. That a great majority of railroad employees
are sound in their habits and thoroughly honest and conscientious in
their intentions, is not open to question; but it is practically the
fault of these good men that the careless individuals are not subject
to discipline, and so cannot be weeded out before the day of reckoning.
But, as a matter of fact, the system is almost as fatal to the best
man as to the worst, and in the words of President Tuttle, “You can
discharge a man and get another, and, in turn, he is liable to do the
same thing.”
Furthermore, however unpalatable the truth may be, it is nevertheless
an unquestionable fact that the American railroad man, above all
others, is most in need of an inflexible system of discipline.
The reasons are obvious. To begin with, the railroad man is a
typical American. He is fearless, quick, clever, and resourceful.
He cuts loose, only too easily, from custom and tradition. He has
supreme confidence in his own individual importance and ability. In
unmistakable quality and quantity he is in possession of the sterling
characteristics that have made the American the most resourceful
antagonist by land or sea, the cleverest designer and inventor, the
most fearless innovator and reformer, and the poorest railroad man,
from the safety standpoint, in the world to-day.