Out of the mass of information offered by my new family and the pleasant
friends we met, together with the books and publications profusely
piling around me, I felt it necessary to make a species of digest for my
own consideration. This I submitted to Nellie, Owen, and one or two
others, adding suggestions and corrections; and thus established in my
own mind a coherent view of what had happened.
In the first place, as Owen repeatedly assured me, nothing was
_done_--finished--brought to static perfection.
"Thirty years isn't much, you see," he said cheerfully. "I dare say if
you'd been here all along you wouldn't think it was such a great
advance. We have removed some obvious and utterly unnecessary evils, and
cleared the ground for new beginnings; but what we are going to do is
the exciting thing!
"Now you think it is so wonderful that we have no poverty. We think it
is still more wonderful that a world of even partially sane people could
have borne poverty so long."
We naturally discussed this point a good deal, and they brought up a
little party of the new economists to enlighten me--Dr. Harkness,
sociologist; Mr. Alfred Brown, Department of Production; Mrs. Allerton
of the Local Transportation Bureau; and a young fellow named Pike, who
had written a little book on "Distinctive Changes of Three Decades,"
which I found very useful.
"It was such a simple matter, after all, you see," the sociologist
explained to me, in an amiable class-room manner.
"Suppose now you were considering the poverty of one family, an isolated
family, sir. Now, if this family was poor, it would be due to the
limitations of the individual or of the environment. Limitations of the
individual would cover inefficiency, false theory of industry,
ill-judged division of labor, poor system of production, or misuse of
product. Limitation of environment would, of course, apply to climate,
soil, natural products, etc. No amount of health, intelligence or virtue
could make Iceland rich--if it was completely isolated; nor England, for
that matter, owing to the inexorable limitations of that environment.
"Here in this country we have no complaint to make of our natural
resources. The soil is capable of sustaining an enormous population. So
we have merely to consider the limitations of individuals, transferring
our problem from the isolated family to the general public.
"What do we find? All the limitations I enumerated! Inefficiency--nearly
every one below par in working power in the generation before
last, as well as miserably educated; false theories of industry
everywhere--idiotic notions as to what work was 'respectable' and what
wasn't, more idiotic notions of payment; worst of all, most idiotic
ideas that work was a curse . . . Might as well call digestion a curse!
Dear! Dear! How benighted we were!
"Then there was ill-judged division of labor--almost universal; that
evil. For instance, look at this one point; half the workers of the
world, nearly, were restricted to one class of labor, and that in the
lowest industrial grade."
"He means women, in housework, John," Nellie interpolated. "We never
used to think of that as part of our economic problem."
"It was a very serious part," the professor continued, hastily
forestalling the evident intention of Mr. Brown to strike in, "but there
were many others. The obvious utility of natural specialization in labor
seemed scarcely to occur to us. Our system of production was archaic in
the extreme; practically _no_ system was followed."
"You must give credit to the work of the Department of Agriculture, Dr.
Harkness," urged Mr. Brown, "the introduction of new fruits, the
improvement of stocks----"
"Yes, yes," agreed Dr. Harkness, "the rudiments were there, of course;
but no real grasp of organized productivity. And as to misuse of
product--why, my dear Mr. Robertson, it is a wonder anybody had enough
to live on in those days, in view of our criminal waste.
"The real turning point, Mr. Robertson, if we can put our finger on one,
is where the majority of the people recognized the folly and evil of
poverty--and saw it to be a thing of our own making. We saw that our
worst poverty was poverty in the stock--that we raised a terrible
percentage of poor people. Then we established a temporary Commission on
Human Efficiency, away back in 1913 or 14----"
"Thirteen," put in Mr. Pike, who sat back listening to Dr. Harkness with
an air of repressed superiority.
"Thank you," said the eminent sociologist courteously. "These young
fellows have it all at their fingers' ends, Mr. Robertson. Better
methods in education nowadays, far better! As I was saying, we
established a Commission on Human Efficiency."
"You will remember the dawning notions of 'scientific management' we
began to have in the first decade of the new century," Mrs. Allerton
quietly suggested. "It occurred to us later to apply it to
ourselves--and we did."
"The Commission found that the majority of human beings were not
properly reared," Dr. Harkness resumed, "with a resultant low standard
of efficiency--shockingly low; and that the loss was not merely to the
individual but to the community. Then Society stretched out a long arm
and took charge of the work of humaniculture--began to lift the human
standard.
"I won't burden you with details on that line at present; it touched but
one cause of poverty after all. The false theory of industry was next to
be changed. A few farseeing persons were already writing and talking
about work as an organic social function, but the sudden spread of it
came through the new religion."
"_And_ the new voters, Dr. Harkness," my sister added.
He smiled at her benevolently. A large, comfortable, full-bearded, rosy
old gentleman was Dr. Harkness, and evidently in full enjoyment of his
present task.
"Let us never forget the new voters, of course. They have ceased to be
thought of as new, Mr. Robertson--so easily does the human mind accept
established conditions. The new religion urged work--normal,
well-adapted work--as _the_ duty of life--as life itself; and the new
voters accepted this idea as one woman.
"They were, as a class, used to doing their duty in patient industry,
generally distasteful to them; and the opportunity of doing work they
liked--with a sense of higher duty added--was universally welcomed."
"I certainly remember a large class of women who practiced no industry
at all--no duty, either, unless what they called 'social duties,'" I
rather sourly remarked. Mrs. Allerton took me up with sudden heat:
"Yes, there were such, in large numbers, in our great cities
particularly; but public opinion was rising against them even as far
back as 1910. The more progressive women turned the light on them first,
and then men took it up and began to see that this domestic pet was not
only expensive and useless but injurious and absurd. I don't suppose we
can realize," she continued meditatively, "how complete the change in
public opinion is--and how supremely important. In visible material
progress we have only followed simple lines, quite natural and obvious,
and accomplished what was perfectly possible at any time--if we had only
thought so."
"_That's_ the point!" Mr. Pike was unable to preserve his air of
restraint any longer, and burst forth volubly.
"That was the greatest, the most sudden, the most vital of our changes,
sir--the change in the world's thought! Ideas are the real things, sir!
Brick and mortar? Bah! We can put brick and mortar in any shape we
choose--but we have to choose first! What held the old world back was
not facts--not conditions--not any material limitations, or psychic
limitations either. We had every constituent of human happiness,
sir--except the sense to use them. The channel of progress was
obstructed with a deposit of prehistoric ideas. We choked up our
children's minds with this mental refuse as we choked our rivers and
harbors with material refuse, sir."
Dr. Harkness still smiled. "Mr. Pike was in my class ten years ago," he
observed amiably. "I always said he was the brightest young man I had.
We are all very proud of Mr. Pike."
Mr. Pike seemed not over pleased with this communication, and the old
gentleman went on:
"He is entirely right. Our idiotic ideas and theories were the main
causes of poverty after all. The new views on economics--true social
economics, not the 'dismal science'; with the blaze of the new religion
to show what was right and wrong, and the sudden uprising of half the
adult world--the new voters--to carry out the new ideas; these were what
changed things! There you have it, Mr. Robertson, in a nutshell--rather
a large nutshell, a pericarp, as it were--but I think that covers it."
"We students used always to admire Dr. Harkness' power of easy
generalization," said Mr. Pike, in a mild, subacid tone, "but if any
ground of inquiry is left to you, Mr. Robertson, I could, perhaps,
illuminate some special points."
Dr. Harkness laughed in high good humor, and clapped his whilom pupil on
the back.
"You have the floor, Mr. Pike--I shall listen to you with edification."
The young man looked a little ashamed of his small irony, and continued
more genially:
"Our first step--or one of our first steps, for we advanced like a
strenuous centipede--was to check the birth of defectives and
degenerates. Certain classes of criminals and perverts were rendered
incapable of reproducing their kind. In the matter of those diseases
most injurious to the young, very stringent measures were taken. It was
made a felony to infect wife or child knowingly, and a misdemeanor if it
were done unknowingly. Physicians were obliged to report all cases of
infectious disease, and young girls were clearly taught the consequence
of marriage with infected persons. The immediate result was, of course,
a great decrease in marriage; but the increase in population was scarce
checked at all because of the lowered death rate among children. It was
checked a little; but for twenty years now, it has been recovering
itself. We increase a little too fast now, but see every hope of a
balanced population long before the resources of the world are
exhausted."
Mr. Brown seized upon a second moment's pause to suggest that the
world's resources were vastly increased also--and still increasing.
"Let Pike rest a moment and get his breath," he said, warming to the
subject, "I want to tell Mr. Robertson that the productivity of the
earth is gaining every year. Here's this old earth feeding us
all--laying golden eggs as it were; and we used to get those eggs by the
C├Žsarian operation! We uniformly exhausted the soil--uniformly! Now a
man would no more think of injuring the soil, the soil that feeds him,
than he would of hurting his mother. We steadily improve the soil; we
improve the seed; we improve methods of culture; we improve everything."
Mrs. Allerton struck in here, "Not forgetting the methods of
transportation, Mr. Robertson. There was one kind of old world folly
which made great waste of labor and time; that was our constant desire
to eat things out of season. There is now a truer sense of what is
really good eating; no one wants to eat asparagus that is not of the
best, and asparagus cut five or ten days cannot be really good. We do
not carry things about unnecessarily; and the carrying we do is swift,
easy and economical. For slow freight we use waterways wherever
possible--you will be pleased to see the 'all-water routes' that thread
the country now. And our roads--you haven't seen our roads yet! We lead
the world."
"We used to be at the foot of the class as to roads, did we not?" I
asked; and Mr. Pike swiftly answered:
"We did, indeed, sir. But that very need of good roads made easy to us
the second step in abolishing poverty. Here was a great social need
calling for labor; here were thousands of men calling for employment;
and here were we keeping the supply from the demand by main
strength--merely from those archaic ideas of ours.
"We had a mass of valuable data already collected, and now that the
whole country teemed with new ideals of citizenship and statesmanship,
it did not take very long to get the two together."
"We furnished employment for all the women, too," my sister added. "A
Social Service Union was formed the country over; it was part of the new
religion. Every town has one--men and women. The same spirit that used
to give us crusaders and missionaries now gave plenty of enthusiastic
workers."
"I don't see yet how you got up any enthusiasm about work," said I.
"It was not work for oneself," Nellie explained. "That is what used to
make it so sordid; we used really to believe that we were working each
for himself. This new idea was overwhelming in its simplicity--and
truth; work is social service--social service is religion--that's about
it."
"Not only so," Dr. Harkness added, "it made a three-fold appeal; to the
old, deep-seated religious sense; to the new, vivid intellectual
acceptance; and to the very widespread, wholesome appreciation of a
clear advantage.
"When a thing was offered to the world that agreed with every social
instinct, that appealed to common sense, that was established by the
highest scientific authority, and that had the overwhelming sanction of
religion--why the world took to it."
"But it is surely not natural to people to work--much less to like to
work!" I protested.
"There's where the change comes in," Mr. Pike eagerly explained. "We
used to _think_ that people hated work--nothing of the sort! What people
hated was too much work, which is death; work they were personally unfit
for and therefore disliked, which is torture; work under improper
conditions, which is disease; work held contemptible, looked down upon
by other people, which is a grievous social distress; and work so
ill-paid that no human beings could really live by it."
"Why Mr. Robertson, if you can throw any light on the now inconceivable
folly of that time so utterly behind us, we shall be genuinely indebted
to you. It was quite understood in your day that the whole world's life,
comfort, prosperity and progress depended upon the work done, was it
not?"
"Why, of course; that was an economic platitude," I answered.
"Then why were the workers punished for doing it?"
"Punished? What do you mean?"
"I mean just what I say. They were punished, just as we punish
criminals--with confinement at hard labor. The great mass of the people
were forced to labor for cruelly long hours at dull, distasteful
occupations; is not that punishment?"
"Not at all," I said hotly. "They were free at any time to leave an
occupation they did not like."
"Leave it for what alternative?"
"To take up another," said I, perceiving that this, after all, was not
much of an escape.
"Yes, to take up another under the same heavy conditions, if there was
any opening; or to starve--that was their freedom."
"Well, what would you have?" I asked. "A man must work for his living
surely."
"Remember your economic platitude, Mr. Robertson," Dr. Harkness
suggested. "The whole world's life, comfort, prosperity and progress
depends upon the work done, you know. It was not _their_ living they
were working for; it was the world's."
"That is very pretty as a sentiment," I was beginning; but his twinkling
eye reminded that an economic platitude is not precisely sentimental.
"That's where the change came," Mr. Pike eagerly repeated. "The idea
that each man had to do it for himself kept us blinded to the fact that
it was all social service; that they worked for the world, and the world
treated them shamefully--so shamefully that their product was
deteriorated, markedly deteriorated."
"You will be continually surprised, Mr. Robertson, at the improvements
of our output," remarked Mr. Brown. "We have standards in every form of
manufacture, required standards; and to label an article incorrectly is
a misdemeanor."
"That was just starting in the pure-food agitation, you remember," my
sister put in--('with apple juice containing one-tenth of one per cent,
of benzoate of soda').
"And now," Mr. Brown continued, "'all wool' is all wool; if it isn't,
you can have the dealer arrested. Silk is silk, nowadays, and cream is
cream."
"And 'caveat emptor' is a dead letter?"
"Yes, it is 'caveat vendor' now. You see, selling goods is public
service."
"You apply that term quite differently from what it stood for in my
memory," said I.
"It used to mean some sort of beneficent statesmanship, at first,"
Nellie agreed. "Then it spread to various philanthropic efforts and
wider grades of government activities. Now it means any kind of world
work."
She saw that this description did not carry much weight with me, and
added, "Any kind of human work, John; that is, work a man gives his
whole time to and does not himself consume, is world work--is social
service."
"If a man raises, by his own labor, just enough to feed himself--that is
working for himself," Mr. Brown explained, "but if he raises more corn
than he consumes, he is serving humanity."
"But he does not give it away," I urged; "he is paid for it."
"Well, you paid the doctor who saved your child's life, but the doctor's
work was social service none the less--and the teacher's--anybody's."
"But that kind of work benefits humanity--"
"Yes, and does it not benefit humanity to eat--to have shoes and clothes
and houses? John, John, wake up!" Nellie for the first time showed
impatience with me. But my brother-in-law extended a protecting arm.
"Now, Nellie, don't hurry him. This thing will burst upon him all at
once. Of course, it's glaringly plain, but there was a time when you and
I did not see it either."
I was a little sulky. "Well, as far as I gather," and I took out my note
book, "people all of a sudden changed all their ideas about
everything--and your demi-millennium followed."
"I wish we could say that," said Mrs. Allerton. "We are not telling you
of our present day problems and difficulties, you see. No, Mr.
Robertson, we have merely removed our most obvious and patently
unnecessary difficulties, of which poverty was at least the largest.
"What we did, as we have rather confusedly suggested, I'm afraid, was to
establish such measures as to insure better births, and vastly better
environment and education for every child. That raised the standard of
the people, you see, and increased their efficiency. Then we provided
employment for everyone, under good conditions, and improved the world
in two ways at once."
"And who paid for this universal employment?" I asked.
"Who paid for it before?" she returned promptly.
"The employer, of course."
"Did he? Out of his own private pocket? At a loss to himself."
"Why, of course not," I replied, a little nettled. "Out of the profits
of the business."
"And 'the business' was the work done by the employees?"
"Not at all! He did it himself; they only furnished the labor."
"Could he do it alone--without 'labor?' Did he furnish employment as a
piece of beneficence, outside of his business--Ah, Mr. Robertson, surely
it is clear that unless a man's labor furnished a profit to his
employer, he would not be employed. It was on that profit that 'labor'
was paid--they paid themselves. They do now, but at a higher rate."
I was annoyed by this clever juggling with the hard facts of business.
"That is very convincing, Mrs. Allerton," I said with some warmth, "but
it unfortunately omits certain factors. A lot of laborers could make a
given article, of course; but they could not sell it--and that is where
the profit comes in. What good would it do the laborer to pile up goods
if he could not sell them?"
"And what good would be the ability to sell goods if there were none,
Mr. Robertson. Of course, I recognize the importance of transportation;
that is my own line of work, but there must be something to transport.
As long ago as St. Paul's day it was known that the hand could not say
to the foot, 'I have no need of thee.'"
"To cover that ground more easily, Mr. Robertson," Dr. Harkness
explained, "just put down in your digest there that Bureaus of
Employment were formed all over the country; some at first were of
individual initiative, but in a few years' time all were in government
management. There was a swift and general improvement in the whole
country. The roads became models to the world, the harbors were cleared,
canals dug, cities rebuilt, bare hills reforested, the value of our
national property doubled and trebled--all owing to the employment of
hitherto neglected labor. Out of the general increase of wealth they got
their share, of course. And where there is work for everyone, at good
wages, there is no poverty; that's clearly seen."