THE RATE OF IMPROVEMENT IN EFFICIENCY
NO novice develops suddenly into an
expert. Nevertheless the progress
made by beginners is often astounding.
The executive with experience is
not deceived by the showing made by new
men. He has learned to accept rapid initial
progress, but he does not assume that this
initial rate of increase will be sustained.
The rate at which skill is acquired has been
the subject of many careful studies. The results
have been charted and reduced to curves,
variously spoken of as ``efficiency curves,''
``practice curves,'' ``learning curves,'' according
to the nature of the task or test. Some of
these dealt with the routine work of office and
factory. In others typical muscular and mental
activities were observed in a simpler form
than could be found in actual practice.
<p 223>
<p 224>
Five of my advanced students joined me in
strenuous practice in adding columns of figures
for a few minutes daily for a month. Our
task was to add 765 one-place figures daily in
the shortest possible time. No emphasis was
placed on accuracy, but each one tried to make
{illust. caption = FIG. 1.}
the highest daily record for speed. The
results of our practice are graphically shown in
Curve A of Fig. 1. As shown in that curve
for the first day our average speed was only
forty-two combinations per minute, but for the
thirtieth day our average was seventy-four
combinations per minute, We did not quite
<p 225>
double our speed by the practice, and we made
but little improvement in accuracy. The most
rapid gain was, as anticipated, during the first
few days. We made but little progress from
the sixteenth to the twenty-third day, and
also from the twenty-fourth to the thirtieth
day.
Of the six persons practicing addition, five
of us also practiced the making of a maximum
grip with a thumb and forefinger. Just before
beginning the adding each day this maximum
grip (or pinch) was exerted once a second for
sixty seconds, first with the right hand and
then with the left. Likewise at the completion
of the addition sixty grips were taken by
the right hand and sixty by the left. The total
pressure exerted by each individual in the 240
trials (four minutes) was then recorded and
expressed in kilograms. The result of the
experiment is shown in curve B of Fig. 1.
The average total pressure for each of the
five persons was for the first day 620 kilograms;
for the twenty-fourth day 1400 kilograms.
Our increase was very rapid for the
<p 226>
first few days, and no general slump was encountered
till the last week of practice. In
one particular our results in the test on physical
strength were not anticipated--we did not
suppose that by practicing four minutes daily
for thirty days we could double our physical
strength in any such a series of maximum
grips with the thumb and forefinger.
It is a simple matter to measure day by day
the accomplishment of one learning to use the
typewriter. All beginners who take the work
seriously and work industriously pass through
similar stages in this learning process. Figure
2 represents the record for the first eighty-
six days of a learner who was devoting, in all,
sixty minutes daily to actual writing. The
numbers to the left of the figure in the vertical
column indicate the number of strokes (including
punctuations and shifts) made in ten
minutes. The numbers on the base line indicate
the days of practice. Thus on the ninth
day the learner wrote 700 strokes in the ten
minutes; on the fifty-fourth day 1300 strokes;
on the eighty-sixth day over 1400 strokes.
<p 227>
Figure 3 represents the results of a writer
of some little experience who spent one hour a
day writing a special form of copy.
In this curve it will be observed that the
{illust. caption = FIG. 2.}
increase in efficiency was very great during
the first few weeks, but that during the
succeeding weeks little improvement was
made.--BOOK, W. R, ``The Psychology of
Skill,'' p. 20.
<p 228>
The progress of a telegraph operator is
determined by the number of words which he
{illust. caption = FIG. 3.}
can send or receive with accuracy per minute.
In learning telegraphy, progress is rapid for a
few weeks and then follow many weeks of less
rapid improvement. Figure 4 presents the
<p 229
history of a student of telegraphy who was
devoting all his time to sending and receiving
messages. His speed was measured once a
week from his first week to the time when he
{illust. caption = FIG. 4.}
could be classed as a fully accomplished operator.
By the twentieth week this operator
could receive less than 70 letters a minute,
although he could send over 120 letters a minute.
At the end of the fortieth week he had
<p 230>
reached a speed of sending which he would
probably never greatly excel even though
his speed was far below that attained by many
operators. The receiving rate might possibly
rise either slowly or rapidly until it equaled
or exceeded the sending rate.--BRYAN &
HARTER, ``Studies in the Physiology and Psychology
of the Telegraphic Language,'' _Psychological
Review_, Vol. IV, p. 49.
There are certain forms of learning and
practice which do not readily admit of quantitative
determinations. Nevertheless very successful
attempts have been made even in the
most difficult realms of learning. A beginner
with the Russian language spent 30 minutes
daily in industrious study and then was tested
for 15 minutes as to the number of Russian
words he could translate. Figure 5 shows
diagrammatically the results of the experiment.
Thus on the thirteenth day 22 words
were translated; on the fiftieth day 45 words.
Improvement was rather rapid until the nineteenth
day, and then followed a slump till the
forty-sixth day. Improvement was very ir-
<p 231>
regular.--SWIFT, E. J., ``Mind in the Making,''
p. 198.
These five figures are typical of nearly all
{illust. caption = FIG. 5.}
practice, or learning, curves. They depict the
rate at which the beginner increases his
efficiency. In every case we discover very great
<p 232>
fluctuations. On one day or at one moment
there is a sudden phenomenal improvement.
The next day or even the next moment the
increase may be lost and a return made to a
lower stage of efficiency.
There are certain forms of skill which cannot
be acquired rapidly in the beginning. In
such instances a period of time is necessary
in which to ``warm up'' or in which to acquire
the knack of the operation or the necessary
degree of familiarity and self-confidence before
improvement becomes possible. This is
true particularly in the ``breaking in'' of new
operators on large machines like steam hammers,
cranes, and the like, where the mass and
power of the machine awes the new man, even
though he has had experience with smaller
units of some kind. It applies also to new
inspectors of mechanical parts and completed
products in factories--especially where the
factor of judgment enters into the operation.
Such instances are exceptions, however, and
differ from those cited only in having a period of
slow advance preliminary to the rapid progress.
<p 233>
Apparently, improvement should be continuous
until the learner has entered into the
class of experts or has reached his possible
maximum. As a matter of fact the curve
which expresses his advance towards efficiency
never rises steadily from a low degree to a high
one. Periods of improvement are universally
followed by stages of stagnation or retrogression.
These periods of little or no improvement
following periods of rapid improvement
are called ``plateaus'' and are found in the experience
of all who are acquiring skill in any
line.
These plateaus are not all due to the same
cause.
They differ somewhat with individuals and
even more with the nature of the task in which
skill is being acquired. With all, however, the
following four factors are the most important
influence:--
1. _The enthusiasm dependent upon novelty
becomes exhausted_.
2. _All easy improvements have been made_.
3. _A period of ``incubation'' is needed in_
<p 234>
_which the new habits under formation may
have time to develop_.
4. _Voluntary attention cannot be sustained
for a long period of time_.
These four factors are not only the causes
of the first plateau, but, as soon as any
particular plateau is overcome and advance
again begun, they are likely to arrest the advance
and to cause another period of recession
or of no advance. These four factors
are therefore most significant to every man
who is trying to increase his own efficiency or
promote the progress of others.
_When the interest in work is dependent on
novelty, the plateau comes early in the development,
and further progress is possible only by the
injection of new motives to action_.
Many young persons begin things with enthusiasm,
but drop them when the novelty has
worn off. They develop no stable interests
and in all their tasks are superficial. They
often have great potential ability, but lack
training in habits of industry and of continued
application. They change positions
<p 235>
often, acquire much diversified experience,
and frequently, in a new position, give promise
of developing unusual skill or ability. This
is due to the fact that during the first weeks or
months of their new employment the novelty
of the work stimulates them to activity, and the
methods or habits learned in other trades are
available for application to the new tasks.
When the novelty wears off, however, they
become wearied and cast about for a fresh and
therefore more alluring field. Such nomads
prove unprofitable employees even when they
are the means of introducing new methods or
short cuts into a business. They strike a
plateau and lose interest and initiative just
at the point where more industrious and less
superficial men would begin to be of the
greatest value.
Plateaus are not confined to clerks and other
subordinates. Executives frequently ``go
stale'' on their jobs and lose their accustomed
energy and initiative. Sometimes they are
able to diagnose their own condition and
provide the corrective stimulus. Again the
<p 236>
man higher up, if he has the wisdom and
discernment which some gain from experience,
observes the situation and prescribes
for his troubled lieutenant. In the majority
of cases, however, the occupant of a
plateau, if he continues thereon for any
length of time, either resigns despondent or
is dismissed.
Such a case, coming under my notice recently,
illustrates the man-losses suffered by
organizations whose heads do not realize that
salaries alone will not buy efficiency.
A young advertising man had almost grown
up with his house, coming to it when not yet
twenty in a minor position in the sales department.
Enthusiastic about his possibilities,
with the friendship and co<o:>peration of
his immediate superior, he carried out well the
successive duties put to him. Promotion was
rapid. No position was retained more than
six months. In five years he had occupied
nearly every subordinate position in the sales
department, and was promoted to the head of
the mail-order section.
<p 237>
His fertility in originating plans, his schemes,
his booklets, and advertising copy brought
results with regularity. He became known as
a man who could ``put the thing over'' in a
pinch, with a vigor and enthusiasm that
seemed irresistible. He fairly earned his
standing as the live wire among executives
of the second rank.
So, when the general sales manager resigned,
there was no question but that this young man
should succeed him. He had been a personal
friend of his predecessor, had co<o:>perated with
him in many phases of his work, and knew his
new duties well; in fact, he took them up with
little necessity for ``breaking in.''
This apparently favorable condition was the
very reason for his lack of success in the new
work. There was not the novelty in this position
that there had been in his former successive
positions. In such an executive position,
it was not a question of taking care of an emergency
demand, but of organization, of establishing
routine, of organizing bigger campaigns.
Before the end of the first season it became evi-
<p 238>
dent that the new sales manager was not making
good. Everything--organization, discipline,
routine system, ginger--had deserted
him. Neither he himself nor his employers,
however, found the real cause. ``I have lost
my grip,'' he told the general manager. ``I
am worn out and of no further use to this
business.''
Furthermore he thought he was of no use
to any business. But he made a connection
with a big house which had a large advertising
campaign on its hands. He threw himself
into the task of recasting the firm's selling
literature, the planning of new campaigns,
and the reorganization of the correspondence
department. Within the year, he had duplicated
on a magnified scale his early triumphs
with his first employers. Moreover, he continued
this record of efficiency the second year,
thus entirely refuting the fear of himself
and his friends that he would ``last less
than a year'' and that he lacked staying
power.
His first employer described the case for me
<p 239>
the other day, requesting that I discover the
reason for the young man's initial failure among
friends and his subsequent triumph in a new
environment. He had kept in close touch with
the other's progress and supplied a hundred
details which helped to make the situation
clear. Finally, after consideration, he agreed
with my diagnosis that his young friend's
falling off in efficiency--his plateau--had
been due to the exhaustion of novelty interest
in his work.
His first success was built on a long series
of separate plans or ``stunts,'' each of which
was begun and executed in a burst of creative
enthusiasm. His first few months' achievement
as sales manager was due to the same
stimulus, but as the months went by the spur
of novelty became dulled. Lacking the discipline
which would have enabled him to
force voluntary attention and the resulting
interest in his tasks, he failed also to trace the
cause of his flagging invention and energy and
assumed that this was due to exhaustion of his
resources.
<p 240>
This is further borne out by his experience
in his present position. Addressing a succession
of new tasks, the interest of novelty has
stimulated him to an uncommon degree and
produced an unbroken record of high efficiency.
That this has continued over a considerable
period is partly due, beyond doubt, to the
sustained interest in his work excited by the
broadness of the field before him, the bigness
of the company, the size of the appropriation
at his disposal, the unusual experience of scoring
hit after hit by comparison with the
house's low standards, the frank and prompt
appreciation of his superiors, and substantial
advances in salary.
It is only human to be more or less dependent
upon novelty. If I am to stir myself to continuous
and effective exertion, I must frequently
stimulate my interest by proposing new
problems and new aspects of my work. If
I am to help others to increase their efficiency,
I must devise new appeals to their interest and
new stimulations to action. If I have been
dependent upon competition as a stimulus
<p 241>
I must change the form of the contest--a
fact which receives daily recognition and
application by the most efficient sales organization
in the country. If I have been depending
upon the stimulating effect of wages,
there is profit occasionally in varying the
method of payment or in furnishing some new
concrete measure of the value of the wage. To
the average worker, for example, a check means
much less than the same amount in gold. In
deference to this common appreciation of
``cold cash,'' various firms have lately abandoned
checks and pay in gold and banknotes,
even though this change means many hours
of extra work for the cashier.
_At every stage of our learning, progress is aided
by the utilization of old habits and old fragments
of knowledge_.
In learning to add, the schoolboy employs
his previous knowledge of numbers. In learning
to multiply he builds upon his acquaintance
with addition and subtraction. In solving
problems in percentage his success is
measured by the freedom with which he can
<p 242>
use the four fundamental processes of addition,
subtraction, Multiplication, and division. In
computing bank discount, his skill is based on
ability to employ his previous experience with
percentage and the fundamental processes of
arithmetic.
The advance here is typical of all learning
processes. In mastering the typewriter no
absolutely new movement is required. The
old familiar movements of arm and hand are
united in new combinations. The student has
previously learned the letters found in the copy
and can identify them upon the keys of the
typewriter. Scrutiny enables him to find any
particular key, and in the course of a few hours
be develops a certain awkward familiarity with
the keyboard and acquires some speed by
utilizing these familiar muscular movements
and available bits of knowledge. All these
prelearned movements and associations are
brought into service in the early stages of
improvement, and a degree of proficiency is
quickly attained which cannot be exceeded
so long as these prelearned habits and asso-
<p 243>
ciations alone are employed. Further advance
in speed and accuracy is dependent
upon combinations more difficult to make
because they involve organization of the old
and acquisition of new methods of thought or
movement. When such a difficulty is faced, a
plateau in the learning curve is almost inevitable.
The young man who enters upon the work
of a salesman can make immediate use of a
multitude of previous habits and previously
acquired bits of knowledge. He performs by
habit all the ordinary movements of the body;
by habit he speaks, reads, and writes. During
his previous experience he has acquired some
skill in judging people, in addressing them, and
in influencing them. His general information
and his practice in debate and conversation--
however crude--enable him to analyze his
selling proposition and unite these selling
points into an argument. He learns, too, to
avoid certain errors and to make use of certain
factors of his previous experience. Thus
his progress is rapid for a short time but soon
<p 244>
the stage is reached where his previous experience
offers no more factors which can be easily
brought to his service. In such an emergency
the novice may cease to advance--if indeed
there is not a positive retrogression.
Nor is this tendency to strike a plateau
confined to clerks in the office and to semi-
skilled men in the factory. Often the limitations
of a new executive are brought out
sharply by his failure to handle a situation
much less difficult than scores which he has
already mastered and thereby built up a reputation
for unusual efficiency. His collapse,
when analyzed, can usually be traced to the
fact that his previous experience contained
nothing on which he could directly base a
decision. His prior efficiency was based on
empirical knowledge rather than on judgment
or ability to analyze problems.
The office manager of an important mercantile
house is a case in point. Though
young, he had served several companies in
the same capacity, making a distinct advance
at each change. He was a trained accountant,
<p 245>
a clever employment man, and a successful
handler of men and women. His association
with the various organizations from which he
had graduated gave him an unusual fund of
practical knowledge and tried-out methods to
draw upon.
His first six months were starred with brilliant
detail reorganizations. The shipping
department, first; the correspondence division
next; the accounting department third, and he
literally swept through the office like the
proverbial new broom, caught up all the loose
ends, and established a routine like clockwork.
So successful was his work that the directors
hastened to add supervision of sales and collections.
Forthwith the new manager struck his
plateau. His previous experience offered little
he could readily use in shaping a sales policy
or laying out a collection program. He
plunged into the details of both, effected some
important minor economies, but failed altogether
--as subsequent events showed--to
grasp the constructive needs and opportunities
<p 246>
of management. He puzzled and irritated his
district managers by overemphasizing details
when they wanted decisions or policies or
help in handling sales emergencies. In the
same way, he neglected collections,--chiefly
because he could not distinguish between
detail and questions of policy,--but escaped
blame for more than six months because the
season was conceded to be a poor one.
Not till he resigned and the general manager
investigated the sales and collection departments
did the real cause of the failure become
evident. Important and numerous as had
been the economics instituted, they all fell
under the head of the ``easy improvements ''
based on previous experience and observation.
When problems outside this experience presented
themselves, the manager encountered
his plateau.
In the acquisition of skill, days of progress
are followed by stationary periods. ``Time
must be taken out'' to allow the formation of a
habit or the organization of this new knowledge
or skill.
<p 247>
All trees and plants have periods of growth
followed by periods of little or no growth. In
May and June the leaves and branches shoot
forth very rapidly, but the new growth is
pulpy and tender. During succeeding days
or months, these tender shots are filled in and
developed. In learning and in habit formation
a similar sequence is lived through. We
have days of swift advancement followed by
days in which the new stage or method of
thinking and acting takes time to become
organized and solidified. The nervous system
has to adjust itself to the new demands, and
such adjusting requires time.
Although periods of incubation are essential
for every specific habit, practically every act
of skill is dependent upon a number of simpler
habits. At any one time progress may be made
in utilizing some of these habits, even though
others could not be advantageously hastened.
Thus the period of incubation should not
necessarily cause any profound slump in the
advance. Almost invariably, however, it produces
a plateau which persists until the worker
<p 248>
has mastered the expert way. The golf
player, for example, usually finds he is able
to drive longer and straighter balls at the beginning
of the season than a little later. The
reason is that in golf the perfect stroke is the
product of almost automatic muscular action.
In the first round the swing of the driver or
iron is not consciously governed, and the muscular
habit of the previous year controls.
Later, as the player concentrates on his task
of correcting little faults or learning more
effective methods, his stroke loses its automatic
quality, his game falls off, and it is not
until he masters his new form that he attains
high efficiency.
The same cycle is repeated in office and factory
operations, where efficiency is possible
only when the hands carry out automatically
the desired action. In typewriting and telegraphy,
in the handling of adding machines,
in the feeding of drill presses, punch presses,
and hundreds of special machines, the learner
passes through three distinct phases: first,
swift improvement in which prelearned move-
<p 249>
ments and skill are brought to bear on the task
under the stimulus of both novelty interest and
voluntary interest; second, arrested progress--
the period of incubation or habit formation; and
the final stage of automatic skill and efficiency.
_Since increase of efficiency is dependent upon
continued efforts of will, slumps are inevitable.
Voluntary attention cannot be sustained for a
long period_.
Work requiring effort is always subject
to fluctuations. The man with a strong will
may make the lapses in attention relatively
short. He may be on his guard and ``try to
try'' most faithfully, but no exertion of the will
can keep up a steady expenditure of effort in
any single activity. All significant _*increases_
in efficiency, however, are dependent upon
voluntary attention--upon extreme exertions
of the will.
No man can develop into an expert without
great exertion of the will. Such exertions of
the will are recognized by authorities as being
very exhaustive and unstable. One of the
greatest of the authorities and one who in
<p 250>
particular has emphasized the necessity of
a ``do-or-die'' attitude of work concludes his
discussion with the following significant admission:
``All this suggests that if one wants
to improve at the most rapid rate, he must
work when he can feel good and succeed, then
lounge and wait until it is again profitable to
work. It is when all the conditions are favorable
that the forward steps or new adaptations
are made.''
Voluntary attention must be employed in
making the advance step, in improving our
method of work, and in making any sort of
helpful changes. But voluntary attention
must not be depended upon to secure steady
and continuous utilization of the improved
method or rate of work. To secure this end,
an attempt should be made to reduce the
work to habit so far as possible and also to secure
spontaneous interest either from interest
and pleasure in the work itself or because of
the reward to be received.
The case of the young sales manager, described
in the first part of this article, suggests
<p 251>
some of the methods by which this interest
can be secured. The chief factor in his progress
was the interest in the work itself due to
the novelty of his successive tasks--an element
impossible to introduce into the average
man's job. Yet there were other and powerful
motives stimulating his interest: the responsibility
of organizing a big department and of
directing the expenditure of large sums of
money; the prompt credit given him and the
growing confidence extended to him; and the
expression of their appreciation in the concrete
shape of salary increases.
It is quite true that these various stimulating
factors cannot be produced indefinitely;
tasks must ``stale,'' praise grow monotonous,
salaries touch their top level. But ``making
good'' and finding interests in work crystallize
into habits which endure as long as conditions
remain fair. The rise of the efficiency curve
thus depends upon recurrent periods of successful
struggle followed by periods of habit
formation and by the development of powerful
spontaneous interests.
<p 252>
Voluntary interest is a valuable thing to
possess, but a difficult thing to secure either
within ourselves or in those under our charge.
In its psychological aspect, scientific
management enters here. By working out and
establishing a standard method and standard
time for various ``repeat'' operations a workman
is engaged in, it encourages--and even
enforces--the formation of new efficiency
habits. The bonus paid for the accomplishment
of the task in the specified time supplies
an immediate and powerful motive to the effort
necessary to master the ``right way'' of doing
things.
In the main, employees do their best to acquire
efficiency; but their humanness must
not be forgotten, and the burden of increasing
efficiency must be carried largely by the executive.
His part it is to supply interest, if
the nature of the work forbids the finding of
it there, he must introduce it from outside
either by competition, by emphasizing the
connection between the task and the reward,
as in piecework, or by provision of a bonus
<p 253>
for the achievement of a certain standard of
efficiency.
He must eliminate the factors in environment
or organization which distract employees
and make voluntary interest more difficult.
He must provide the means of training and
must understand the possibilities and the
limitations of training. If a man ``slumps''
in efficiency, he must look for the cause and
make sure this is not beyond the man's control
before he punishes him. In a word, he must
allow for periods of incubation or unconscious
organization before expecting maximum results
from a new employee or an old man assigned
to a new job.
_The man who by persistent effort has developed
himself into an expert has greatly enhanced
his value to society. The boss who demands expert
service from untrained men is either a tyrant
or a fool. But the executive who develops novices
into experts and the company which transforms
mere ``handy men'' into mechanics are public
benefactors because of the service rendered to the
country and their men_.