Nothing can be more simple than the explanation of this paradox. In

the mental composition of the American railroad man there is no such

idea or faculty as _dogged obedience_. And yet it must be evident to

the most superficial thinker on this subject that never can there be

any prospect for, or approach to, safety in railroad travel, without

this indispensable ingredient of personal character. It is the _sine

qua non_ of successful railroad operation. “Theirs not to reason why”

is the solution of the safety problem in a single forceful expression.

And yet in a lifetime of railroad service, I can honestly affirm

that I never met more than half a dozen railroad men who had any

conception, either in theory or practice, of this principle of dogged

obedience. Furthermore, I never came across a manager who was big

enough to preach the doctrine, and I am equally certain I have never

read in the newspapers or magazines any widespread expression of public

opinion that would lead a railroad manager to expect public support

and approval of any such principle. Consequently, my argument is an

arraignment not only of the men, the unions, and the managements, but

of the manifest opinion and public policy of the American people. The

price that is being paid in tribute to this lack of dogged obedience

and its attendant evils is graphically emphasized in the Twenty-first

Annual Report of the Interstate Commerce Commission, issued December

23, 1907, as follows:--

“Accidents to trains on the railroads in the United States continue to

occur in such large numbers that the record, as has been repeatedly

declared by conservative judges, is a world-wide reproach to the

railroad profession in America.”

That the men should lack the faculty I speak of is not, under the

circumstances, so very surprising; but that a great many railroad

managers, as well, should remain uncertain and doubtful as to its

fundamental importance, is by no means so easy to understand. Some time

ago the writer of this essay received in writing, from the head of

the operating department of one of our largest railroad systems, the

following question:--

“Is it not equally essential that the meaning of and reason for a rule

should be evident on its face as that the rule itself, that is, its

wording, should be plain and unmistakable?”

My reply was as follows:--

“By no means. From the safety standpoint the order itself is primary;

the reason for its being in the time-table is secondary. Is it not very

significant that the principle of dogged obedience should be open to

question on a railroad, while, in the case of a city ordinance or a

state law, no liberty of thought or action in such matters is tolerated

for a minute?”

The following illustration is interesting and well to the point:--

In our time-tables we have a rule for the guidance of enginemen on

what are called “helping engines,” which reads something like this:

“Never hang up the numbers of the train you are going to help on your

headlight, until you are actually hitched on to said train.” The reason

for this rule does not appear on its face, and yet the rigid necessity

for dogged obedience in regard to it will at once be understood, when

we study its origin.

About twenty years ago, while working as telegraph operator at East

Deerfield, Mass., I received a telegram ordering an extra engine out

of the round-house to help a regular freight train, No. 94, which was

expected in from the east. Meanwhile the helping engine stood waiting

on a siding with “94” displayed on its headlight. Before long an extra

or “wild” freight train from the west, with orders to meet No. 94 at

East Deerfield on single track, came along, and, mistaking the engine

with “94” on its headlight for the regular train, kept on its way

without stopping. No. 94 and this wild freight met in a cut, and “piled

up” in probably the worst “head-on” freight collision in the history of

the old Fitchburg Railroad.

Every rule in the time-table has its history written in suffering and

dollars; and while, of course, it is advisable for employees to be

conversant with their meaning and significance, it is evident that the

principle of dogged obedience is the only safe method for employees to

pursue in regard to them. An inflexible enforcement of this principle

would be looked upon as little short of tyranny; and yet, seriously

and fairly considered, it is nothing but the subordination which

every railroad man owes to the community in the interest of safety

and general efficiency. That the organizations of railroad men do

not insist upon, or even countenance, this absolute subordination

to authority, is thoroughly understood by every man and manager in

the service. We are all tarred with the same brush, and rather than

acknowledge the weakness of our position, we prefer to keep calling

on the public to pay the penalty. It is time to call a halt when the

liberty and liberal views of a few endanger the safety of the many.

But in passing from this branch of my subject, I wish to call attention

to an almost unnoticed fact in regard to the efficiency of railroad

service. Taking an accident bulletin, issued by the Interstate Commerce

Commission, at random, I copy the following:--

“The total number of collisions and derailments during April, May,

and June, 1907, was 3777, of which 220 collisions and 221 derailments

affected passenger trains. The damage to cars, engine, and roadway by

these accidents amounted to $3,232,673.”

This report, treating as it does exclusively of collisions and

derailments, is serious enough, but the note that is appended to it is

the significant feature of the situation:--

“Collisions and derailments which cause no death or personal injury,

and which cause not over $150.00 damage to the property of the

railroad, are not reported.”

Seeing that the public should be in possession of all the facts in

regard to efficiency of service, it occurs to me that a list of narrow

escapes and of collisions and derailments which cause no deaths or

personal injury, would make very interesting reading. These are the

very “trifles” to which I have already called attention. They are the

seed from which we reap our crop of disasters. They are well worth

reporting and paying attention to, and no annual or other statement of

the situation on the railroad is worth much if it fails to recognize

the significance of this feature.

But apart from the influence and power of the railroad organization

upon the individuality and personal conduct of its members in relation

to train wrecks and discipline, there is another branch of the topic

that is perhaps still more interesting, from a human and national point

of view.

Comparatively speaking, public attention has been but slightly directed

in any specific way to the matter of accidents to employees on American

railroads. It is certainly one of the most distressing features to be

studied in connection with the safety problem. Collisions, derailments,

defective hand-holds and brake apparatus, and the like, cause injuries

to great numbers of employees. For example, at Haverhill, N. H., the

other day, five employees were instantly killed, through the alleged

carelessness or oversight of a fellow employee. Such instances, of

course, are particularly painful topics for discussion among railroad

men, and yet this is the kind of an accident one reads about in the

newspapers almost daily. But in twenty-four hours the reading public

will forget the very worst of these accidents to employees. Their

frequency takes the edge off their significance. During the year 1907,

on a single American railroad, 104 employees were killed outright,

and 3575 were injured. The cost of these accidents to the railroad in

question was something like $285,000. With an employers’ liability law

in force and operation, as in countries abroad, the increase in total

paid to employees alone on this road would have carried the aggregate

to half a million dollars. The magnitude and importance of the safety

problem in relation to employees is still more evident when we consider

that for the year ending June 30, 1907, the casualty list on American

railroads shows a total of all persons killed, from all causes, of

5000, and injured 72,286; the totals for employees alone being 4353

killed and 62,687 injured.

The following figures in regard to actual train accidents and the

casualties resulting therefrom show a rather discouraging state of

affairs, from the fact that the employees themselves were in the main

responsible for them. In 1904 the killed and injured employees in train

accidents numbered 7834; in 1905, 7850; in 1906, 8362; and in 1907,

9935. As with all other items, so with accidents to employees, the

total of casualties has largely increased year by year.

But one of the most distressing features to be considered in connection

with accidents to employees, whether caused by their own carelessness

or otherwise, is the absolute indifference with which news and

statistics of such casualties _appear_ to be received by the average

railroad man. So far as an impartial investigator would be able to

discover, “It’s too bad” is about the limit of criticism and action in

such matters. The indifference I call attention to, so far as the minds

of the employees are concerned, is not real, and the actual reason and

history of the seeming neglect can easily be located and analyzed.

[Illustration: WHAT COMES FROM A MISPLACED SWITCH]

The railroad employee, as a unit, is whole-souled and sympathetic; not

a suspicion of indifference can be imputed to him, either as a man or

as a brother. Individually speaking, when a passenger or an employee

is injured, there is no sorrow like his sorrow; but, unfortunately,

the organizations or machines through which alone his desires and

sympathies can be expressed, have never shown any disposition to

interest themselves in any practical way in matters relating to the

safety of the public, or of the employees, _whenever such interest is

liable to develop into a probe of the conduct and efficiency of the

railroad man_. The heads of the national organizations of railroad

men, with particular reference to those connected with the operating

department, occupy positions that are usually three-quarters political.

The wishes and sentiments of great majorities of employees on certain

railroads can be, and have been, set aside by the political shake of

the head of one man in Washington or Chicago. The acquiescence of the

rank and file in this state of affairs is paid for in legislation and

concessions. Nevertheless, from the human and social point of view,

it would seem as if the organizations, or men-machines as we may call

them, should bestir themselves in this matter of accidents to their

members. In order to do this, coöperation with the management is

necessary; so the following questions very naturally arise:--

By consultation, or otherwise, has any personality been put into the

business? Have our organizations ever said to their members, “Come,

boys, let us reason together: when a man runs a signal, or disobeys

orders, it is a disgrace to our machine. In reality we, the employees,

are the principal stock-holders in a railroad. When passengers, or our

own members, are killed or injured, we have to pay a large proportion

of the bill. We pay in loss of prestige and character, and every time

one of us makes a mistake, it is a blot on our ’scutcheon. We should

see to it that this matter is made personal to every member of our

organization. We should coöperate with managers in locating the blame

for these accidents, and, without regard to consequences, we should

insist upon the removal of offenders.”

Is there any evidence to show that this is the actual state of affairs?

If so, I have yet to meet a man who is aware of it. But, on the other

hand, if no such influence is being exerted by the organizations,

in all candor, and in the name of public safety, I ask, why not?

For, right here, the public puts in its appearance and the following

additional question must forthwith be answered:--

Are our organizations prepared to say to the public, “We are sorry,

but the fact is, our machine is constructed purely upon selfish

principles. Our time and efforts are exclusively occupied in fencing

with the management. When passengers, even our own brothers, are

killed, it is up to the superintendent every time. Let him change the

rules if he thinks fit, but according to precedent and the rules of our

organization in such cases, we are not expected to show any signs of

sympathy or humanity. Consequently, to all interests apart from what

may be called the political welfare of the whole machine, we are deaf,

dumb, and blind?”

Is this an overdrawn picture? I think not. It is simply a truthful

matter-of-fact description of railroad organizations, from whose

calculations and behavior the personal and sympathetic element in

regard to these safety questions has been eliminated.

But now, widening our horizon a little, we have next to take note

that these questions of personal character, personal responsibility,

and unhampered personal effort, are real and intense problems for

thoughtful people to study, not only in relation to preventable

accidents, but in every department of railroad life.

Some time ago, in an issue of the “Engineering Magazine,” a note

of warning was sounded against the result of certain American

manufacturing methods. It was pointed out that the principle of

securing the largest output of uniform character, at minimum cost,

made automata of the operatives, and discouraged skilled and trained

artisans to so great an extent that the quality of the men to-day,

for lack of proper inspiration, was generally poor and unreliable.

According to the opinion expressed in the article that I refer to,

many American manufacturers are beginning to realize the necessity of

attracting men of high character to their employ, of surrounding them

with an environment tending towards sobriety, integrity, and industry,

and rewarding them according to their efforts, in order to avoid the

effects of this so-called “American tendency.”

That American methods of conducting business should be considered

retrogressive, on account of lack or poverty of inspiration, certainly

points to unhealthy conditions somewhere. If these American tendencies

can be shown to have the effect of discouraging individual effort

and the natural growth and ambition of the worker on railroads or

elsewhere, the matter certainly calls for serious attention. To say

the least of it, it betokens a very peculiar state of affairs, for

the reason that if there be one characteristic that more than another

distinguishes the American citizen from the rest of the world, it is

his freedom of personal action, his propensity for striking new and

unexplored trails in almost every branch of research, industry, and

invention. The American is _par excellence_ the world’s inventor. And

yet, without the utmost liberty of thought and action, an inventor

would cut but a sorry figure. It follows, therefore, that any

curtailment of or interference with these distinctively American gifts

and instincts will, as they say, bear watching.

Quite a number of years ago an American firm secured a contract for

the erection of a large factory somewhere near Manchester, England.

The contractor soon discovered that no persuasion or encouragement

would induce the British workman to lay more than a certain number of

bricks per hour, according to the fixed law and schedule of his union.

In order to complete the work within the allotted time, the contractor

was compelled to send for American bricklayers. These men, who were

paid according to their industry and personal effort, were able to

lay four bricks to the Englishman’s one. The American could beat the

Englishman four to one, not because he was, to that extent, a cleverer

and quicker workman, but because at that time and place he was a free

man. Transferred to American shops and factories, and in a different

atmosphere, the foreign workman easily adapts himself to conditions and

is able to hold his own.

According to the writer in the “Engineering Magazine,” American

manufacturers are taking measures to stimulate and revive the principle

of individual effort, in order to secure excellence in workmanship;

but, according to other authorities, these efforts are being

counteracted by the labor unions on the railroads and elsewhere, which

appear to be following in the footsteps and adopting the methods of the

British organizations. However, the ideas and ideals of many wide-awake

manufacturers and managers have found practical exemplification in

various manufacturing establishments, as well as in railroad shops in

different parts of the country.

Perhaps the best field for a short consideration of this interesting

subject, so far as railroads are concerned, is to be found on the Santa

Fé Railroad system. The introduction of the individual-effort reward or

bonus system of stimulating employees to extra or unusual effort, and

of compensating them suitably therefor, is probably the most important

of all the betterment work on this railroad. The inauguration of the

system followed the strike of the machinists, boiler-makers, and

blacksmiths, in May, 1904. The credit for its introduction on the Santa

Fé is due to Mr. J. W. Kendrick, Second Vice-President. Mr. Charles

H. Fry, associate editor of the “Railroad Gazette,” who has written a

valuable and comprehensive report of this betterment work, gives the

following as its principal features and objects:--

“To restore and promote cordial relations, based on mutual respect and

confidence, between employer and employee;

“To restore the worker to himself by freeing him from the small and

debasing tyrannies of petty and arbitrary officials on the one side,

and from individuality-destroying union domination on the other;

“To give the company better, more reliable, and more trustworthy

employees;

“To increase automatically, and without fixed limit, the pay of good

men, this increase of pay depending on themselves and not on their

immediate superiors;

“To increase the capacity of the shops without adding new equipment;

“To increase the reliability of work turned out and the efficiency of

operation performed;

“To do all these things, not only without cost to the company, but with

a marked reduction in its expenses.”

The programme was certainly ambitious and praiseworthy, and in Mr.

Fry’s report the results, after a thorough trial extending over several

years, are given in the following paragraph:--

“It can safely be said that the betterment work _has_ resulted as

anticipated in restoring harmony between employer and employee, in

restoring self-respect to the latter and increasing his efficiency and

reliability. Also it has raised his wages ten to twenty per cent on

the average. In addition, for every dollar of supervising and special

expense incurred, the company has saved at least ten dollars in reduced

costs.”

But just here two very important points require to be noticed and

emphasized. In the operations of a railroad, efficiency must never

be sacrificed for the sake of economy, and on the Santa Fé Railroad,

when questions arise in which there is even the remote possibility of

impairment of efficiency, all economical propositions or arrangements

are at once postponed or vetoed altogether. Again, it is manifest that

as a result of the improved methods and greater individual effort,

certain reductions in working force will become possible. In regard to

this matter the Santa Fé management claims that such reduction, when

necessary, can easily be effected, simply by not replacing men who

naturally drop out. This has been their uniform policy, and therefore,

from their point of view, there is no possible ground for objection by

employees on that score.

The individual-effort reward system on the Santa Fé thus far has been

limited to the maintenance of equipment and to locomotive operation.

The labor employed in the shops is, of course, distinctly non-union.

The saving effected under these methods on tools and machinery alone,

at Topeka, was $119,000, and the total economy on 1633 locomotives

(repairs and renewals) for the year 1906 amounted to $1,737,626. These

facts and figures are derived from a comparison of the cost of actual

and identically similar work before and after the inauguration of the

bonus system.

It is impossible at this time to enter into a minute explanation or

description of the system which is to-day in actual operation on

the Santa Fé Railroad, and under which satisfactory results, both

to employer and employee, are being obtained. The work itself is

notable not so much because of its economical results as on account

of its moral and sociological aspects. Without taking any side in the

questions at all, it is evident that the movement and work on the Santa

Fé, from beginning to end, has been an appeal to individual effort and

character, and a protest against the recognized ideals of the labor

unions. But it will not be found necessary to go into details of the

Santa Fé system in order to illustrate and emphasize the principles

that are at stake and the nature of the problem that must, before long,

be settled, one way or the other, by an educated and enlightened public

opinion.

On the Santa Fé Railroad, prior to the installation of the bonus

system, a vast number of time-studies had to be made and schedules

prepared. Every operation or piece of work to be bonused had to be

studied by competent men, to determine, from the machine and other

conditions, a fair or standard time to apply to it. Thousands of such

studies have been made at the Topeka shops, and properly recorded and

preserved on regular blanks.

The following illustrations are only partially descriptive of the

Santa Fé method, but they are sufficiently accurate to cover the

principles involved, the benefits that are derived from them, and some

of the objections which have been advanced by the union men on the

railroads, who are opposed to the bonus system in any form.

You take a certain piece of machinery, say a part of a locomotive. You

make a “study” of this part. After making one hundred tests, under all

sorts of conditions, you make a schedule in your machine-shop for this

particular operation or piece of work. You then fix upon a standard

time for doing this work. Standard time is simply the time which it

ought reasonably to take to do the work without killing effort, but by

eliminating every unnecessary waste. The elimination of waste is the

fair and square proposition you present to your workman. You say to

him, “Make a standard time on this piece of machinery, and I will pay

you twenty per cent above your hourly rate, that is, above your regular

pay. If you take more than standard time, your bonus will diminish

until at fifty per cent above standard time it will simply merge

into your day rate. On the other hand, if less than standard time is

taken, your bonus will increase above twenty per cent. But, under any

conditions or circumstances, you will always receive your full day’s

wage.”

The situation becomes still plainer, if you explain it to your workman

in this way. You say to him, “During the past year I have watched your

work closely, and made hundreds of ‘studies’ in regard to the ‘part’

you turn out with that machine. I find that you have averaged about

six to the hour. Now I am convinced that you can just as well turn out

seven. Your pay is now $2.50 per day; if in the future you can make

seven instead of six of these ‘parts’ in an hour, I will pay you $3.00

per day. In fact, your pay will increase in exact proportion to your

cleverness and industry. Furthermore, if by any manner or means you can

invent a way, such, for instance, as an improvement in the mechanism or

in the operation of your machine whereby you are enabled to turn out a

dozen of these ‘parts’ in an hour, I will see to it that your pay is

increased accordingly, without any limit whatever.”

Continuing our general illustration, we will now take it for granted

that you are able to start this bonus system in your factory or shop,

in which, under ordinary circumstances, you give employment to one

hundred union men. At the end of a certain period you find, on account

of the extra effort put forth by the most ambitious and cleverest men,

that the number of these “parts” which you require in your business,

or on your railroad, can easily be turned out by seventy-five men. So

without delay you reduce the working force in your shop accordingly.

It matters not how you do this, whether by simple discharge or by

omitting to fill vacancies as they occur in a natural way, the fact

remains that at the end of the year you have decreased your force

twenty-five per cent, and besides, without adding to your equipment,

you have made a substantial reduction in your operating expenses.

Confessions of a railroad signalman · 第 7 / 10 段