Dunn, by a long, practical test.
Affectionately, your own,
D. A. D.
LETTER VII.
THE CHIEF OF STAFF IDEA.
San Antonio, Texas, May 20, 1911.
My Dear Boy:--Let me tell you something about a wonderfully effective
human machine, the Confederate Army. I sit facing a Confederate
monument which depicts a self-reliant son of the Southland, the type of
man real railway training helps to perpetuate. Hard by is a shrine to
valor, the Alamo, a reminder of the duty of altruism which an
individual owes to his fellows.
Fifty years ago two great armies were organized to fight to a
practical, working conclusion some of the indefinite compromises of the
Federal Constitution. Each army was supported by the intelligent spirit
of an aroused people. Each sought in its organization and operation to
give the most effective expression to that spirit. Jefferson Davis and
his advisers sought to profit by the experience of the old United
States Army and to avoid inherent weaknesses in its organization. So
the Confederate Congress created the grades of general and of
lieutenant general, in order that a general might command a separate
field army, a lieutenant general a corps, a major general a division,
and a brigadier general a brigade. By thus more exactly defining
official status, jealousies were minimized. Until Grant was made
lieutenant general in 1864, the Federal Army had only two grades of
general officers, major general and brigadier general. This led to
confusion, to bickerings, and to petty jealousies. Since a major
general might command such distinct and self-contained units of
organization as a division, a corps, or a separate field army, numerous
special assignments by the President became necessary.
The Confederate Army had another feature of organization that was
epoch-making. Samuel Cooper had been adjutant general of the United
States Army, with the rank of brigadier general, issuing orders over
his own signature from Washington "by command of" somebody else--Brevet
Lieutenant General Scott or the Secretary of War. Because of his
acknowledged efficiency in office work and administrative routine,
Samuel Cooper was made adjutant general and inspector general of the
Confederate Army. Did they give him the rank of brigadier general? No,
sir; they made him a full general, and number one on the list, senior
to Albert Sidney Johnston, Robert E. Lee, Joseph E. Johnston and G. T.
Beauregard, who, as generals at one time or another, commanded separate
field armies or territorial military departments. General Cooper at a
desk in Richmond was the ranking officer of the Confederate Army. This
detracted not one iota from the fame of Lee, the great soldier and the
first gentleman of the South. On the contrary, the increased efficiency
due to receiving instructions from a real superior, not under-strappers
or chief clerks, made greater the reputation of Lee. From one viewpoint
General Cooper was a high-class chief clerk for his President and the
Secretary of War. From a broader view he was their technically trained,
highly efficient chief of staff.
The Confederate Army gave in effect, but not in name, the chief of
staff idea to the world as a great object lesson in the applied science
of organization. Historians say that Jefferson Davis, himself a
graduate of West Point, a veteran of the Mexican war, and Secretary of
War in the cabinet of Pierce, meddled too much in military affairs when
as President he should have been attending also to civil affairs. Be
that as it may, the organization was elastic enough to meet just such
variations of personal equation. Whether the President, the Secretary
of War or the adjutant general (chief of staff) acted in a particular
case, the subordinate knew who took the responsibility and that the
action came from a real superior in rank.
The Confederacy fell. The passions of the time, the shortsightedness of
prejudice, precluded the adoption at that time by the United States of
any feature of the Confederate organization, however meritorious in
principle and practice. It remained for the Germans, already applying
the idea, to dazzle the world in 1870 and conquer France by the work of
their general staff and its able chief, von Moltke. Not until after the
costly lessons of the little war with Spain in 1898 did our Congress
wake up and give the United States Army a general staff and a chief of
staff. The new law includes several desirable features of elasticity.
Among these is a provision for the selection by each administration of
its own chief of staff. A permanent chief of staff might be an
obstructionist or might become too perfunctory in compliance. The law
wisely limits the selection of a chief of staff to about twenty general
officers. This prevents playing untrained favorites. It permits any
passenger conductor to be made superintendent, but forbids selecting an
extra brakeman or the call boy. Furthermore, if conditions change or a
new administration arrives, the chief of staff is not penalized for
efficiency by losing out entirely, but reverts to his permanent status;
the superintendent holds his rights as a conductor and bids in a good
run according to his permanent seniority. This feature of good
organization, the conferring of definite local superior rank, and the
protection of the incumbent from unnecessary degradation, was
discovered centuries ago by another effective institution, the Catholic
church.
Life is a composite. The Army, like several railways, has been waking
up to the fact that a lesson can be learned from the civil courts. A
large city may have several courts and judges. A judge may sit for one
term in the equity court, then in the criminal branch, and next in a
court _en banc_. All the time there is only one office of record,
one clerk of the court, with as many deputies as may be found
necessary. When one judge wishes to know what another judge has done,
the former does not write the latter a letter to inquire, but sends to
the clerk's office and gets the complete record up to date.
Are the railroads above copying sound working principles of efficiency
from such tried institutions as the Army, the Navy, the civil courts
and the churches? Certainly not, as some roads are showing in a highly
practical way. Such movements as these are but expressions of a cosmic
tendency, greater and more powerful than any one branch of human
activity. Such trends of progress are noted by observers who happen to
be favored with a view from the watch towers and who are able to make
suitable adaptations because they realize that ideas are greater than
men, that practical devices are greater than their inventors.
Sound ideas often depend for their development and permanency as
working practices upon some great exponent of acknowledged capacity for
leadership. In 1870 Bismarck had baited on the French and von Moltke
had planned their discomfiture. In 1870 General Robert E. Lee, entering
upon the last year of his life, was president of Washington and Lee
University at Lexington, Virginia, where Colonel Allan, of Stonewall
Jackson's staff, was a prominent professor. There came to sit at the
feet of these great teachers a mere boy in years, but an adult in
intellectual grasp. This callow youth was of German lineage, but born
and reared in New Orleans, a city stamped with the civilization of the
French. Perhaps this modest youngster dreamed that twenty years later
he would be a great railroad engineer--hardly, though, that in forty
years he would, as a great railway operating man, be called the von
Moltke of transportation. Strange, indeed, that this von Moltke, Julius
Kruttschnitt, should find his opportunity for highest development under
the Napoleon of our profession, Edward H. Harriman, himself among the
last of the feudal railway barons. Stranger still that as this Napoleon
was passing his von Moltke was starting the railways away from
feudalism in interior administration by introducing within the latter's
own sphere the chief of staff idea of the Confederate, the German, and
the American armies. For, my boy, the unit system of organization on
the Harriman Lines, of which you have read more or less, is primarily a
substitution of the modern chief of staff idea for the outgrown,
dwarfing, irrational government by chief clerks.[1]
[1] See appendix for a description of the unit system of
organization.
The unit system of organization requires that an official, whether the
head of the unit or an assistant, shall, when absent on the line, be
represented at headquarters by the senior or chief assistant of the
unit. Such senior or chief assistant is in effect, though not in name,
the chief of staff. Normally, this senior is number one on the list of
assistants, but whoever is so acting becomes, as above explained, the
senior for the time being, and when relieved reverts to his permanent
place on the list. Rotation for this chief of staff depends largely on
the personal equation of the head of the unit and of his various
assistants. In the last two years some divisions have not rotated the
chief of staff at all. One superintendent who credits the system with
increased supervision and notable decreases in expenses is now rotating
his assistants in the senior chair every two weeks.
There are diverse views on the subject of rotation in general. My own
opinion is that it may or may not be desirable. I incline rather to
rotation because it seems to be a biological concomitant of rational
evolution. Nature rotates her seasons and her types. Where, as in the
tropics, there is less rotation we find more stagnation and quicker
death. Many soils are impoverished by neglect of proper crop rotation.
The other day in a terminal, I found a superintendent lately rotated,
like a Methodist minister, from another division. Favored with a fresh
viewpoint, he was having switch engines give trains a start out of the
yard, and was taking off a helper engine which for years had seemed an
unavoidable expense. For what was in this particular instance a case of
over-specialization he was substituting engines which could more
economically perform the dual functions of switching and of pushing.
Speaking of yards, see if you have not some bright fellows on your
staff who can figure out a car record that can be taken by the
mechanical men, the car inspectors, that will answer all the purposes
of transportation, including claims. Instead of two sets of
specialists, car inspectors and yard clerks, partly duplicating each
other's work, see if you cannot develop one set of all 'round men with
some interchangeability of function. No, you cannot do it all at once.
Even if you have a workable scheme it will take a long time to
establish. The Brown system of discipline required nearly twenty years
for its complete extension to practically all American railroads,
although in successful operation for nearly a hundred years at the
United States Military Academy at West Point. The demerit system is
better handled at West Point than is the Brown system on railways. This
is because most of the officers are relatively better trained than
railroad officials, having all been through the mill themselves. Better
training cultivates the judicial quality. Too often the number of
Brownies does not depend upon a fixed scale for a like offense, but
rather upon how mad the superintendent is or on how hard he has been
pounded by the typewriter in the offices above.
Before you condemn any system be certain that its apparent shortcomings
are not the fault of your own interpretation and administration. We
used to speak of engine failures alone. Nowadays we distinguish as
between engine failures and man failures. Likewise there is a
difference between a system failure and a man failure.
Affectionately, your own,
D. A. D.
LETTER VIII.
THE UNIT SYSTEM.
Galveston, Texas, May 27, 1911.
My Dear Boy:--We were talking of the unit system of organization. There
is little that is new about the system. Like many useful things in this
world, it is mainly an adaptation of some very old principles and
practices. From one viewpoint it is a rational extension of the simple
principles of train dispatching. The standard code does not attempt to
supply the place of judgment in a train dispatcher. It does not tell
him when to put out a meet or a wait order. When his judgment dictates
the necessity for any particular action, the standard code comes into
play by prescribing forms, by imposing checks and safeguards, by
simplifying methods, and by unifying practices. This gives greater
opportunity for initiative and originality on the part of the
dispatcher by making routine the detailed portion of the process. He
has more time to think.
Because the unit system leaves so much to the thinking capacity of the
men below, some people have found it difficult to understand. Many
codes of organization attempt to cover in advance all the various cases
that may come up. The unit system enunciates principles and prescribes
methods, but leaves independence of action to the man on the ground. He
is for the time being the judge as to what principle to apply. When men
are carefully trained their first impulse is to do the right thing.
This impulse has been dwarfed and deadened on many railroads by
artificial restraints which make a man doubtful of his authority. The
unit system reverses some old presumptions and puts the burden of doubt
upon him who questions the official authority.
We have to take human nature as we find it, not as we think it should
be. The master mechanic or the division engineer is riding on the rear
of a train, at the company's expense, and tells a young flagman that
the latter did not go back far enough. If the flagman does not tell the
official to go to h----, the trainmaster probably will. The trainmaster
says, "This is _my_ department, you have interfered with _my_ man."
That is the old feudal conception. He is not _my_ man but the company's
for service, and his own for individuality and citizenship. Let the
master mechanic or the division engineer of many years' service report
the flagman whose tenure may have been very brief. Human nature is such
that the trainmaster, stung by an implied reflection, constitutes
himself attorney for the defense. The papers grind through the baskets
of the chief clerks. By and by, when everybody concerned has forgotten
the incident, the papers come back with assurances of distinguished
consideration and politely intimate that the case was not quite as bad
as represented. The old official, in a measure discredited, soon stops
concerning himself with flagmen. The management, the stockholders, and
the public lose just so much possible protection through increased
supervision. The salary and the expense account of the traveling
official go on just the same.
On the Harriman Lines the master mechanic, like the division engineer,
has the rank, title, and authority of assistant superintendent. Mind
you, it is not assistant superintendent in charge of thus and so, but
just assistant superintendent. An attempt to define duties in a
circular of appointment might imply that all the responsibilities not
enumerated would be necessarily excluded. So the assistant
superintendent quietly speaks to the young flagman, who profits by the
instruction, and the incident is closed without recourse to the
typewriter. For the technical brief to the Supreme Court there is
substituted the rough and ready but surer justice of the police
magistrate. The employe still has the right to appeal just as he had
before, but seldom or never does he exercise it. There are, of course,
intelligent limitations to all authority. The mechanical assistant, or
the maintenance assistant should not, for example, order the flagman to
buy a new uniform. Common sense and courtesy have proved effectual
safeguards against abuse of authority.
The underlying principle that responsibility breeds conservatism in
action has operated to prevent those unseemly clashes of authority
which many predicted. The good sense of the superintendents has served
as an effectual balance wheel to maintain smooth running. The unit
system does not deny or dispute the necessity for specialized talent
for technical activities. It insists, however, that increased
supervision of the countless phases of operation can be gained by
utilizing all the official talent available. In many cases such
increased supervision is a by-product. The maintenance assistant is
inspecting track. The train stops. He cannot resume track inspection
until the train starts. Meantime, he may be able to find time to see if
the conductor receives his orders promptly, if the dispatcher uses good
judgment, if the station forces are alert, if the public are being well
handled, if the news butcher has his wares over several needed seats in
the smoking car. He may even go to the head end and tell the eagle eye
how the black smoke indicates that the fire boy could save his own back
and the company's good money by less liberal use of the shovel.
Anything very technical requiring the presence of specialists for all
these things? Of course, if a special problem develops, such as a badly
adjusted draft, it may be necessary later to get the more expert
attention of a mechanical assistant. Often, however, before this stage
is reached there can be rendered much economical first aid to injured
operating expenses. This increased supervision, be it much or little,
is clear gain for the company. It means more effort for the official,
but that is what he is paid for. It is usually better in zero weather
to have the old master mechanic and the old traveling engineer as
assistant superintendents riding different trains on the road than to
have them sitting in a comfortable office writing letters to each other
about engines that failed last week or last month.
Once upon a time a traveling engineer talked through a telegraphone to
a dispatcher. The latter requested the former to have the freight train
pull into clear to let another train by. The conductor was not in
sight. He was probably in the caboose making out some of those
imaginary reports about which grievance committees tell us and which
are most in evidence during investigations of head-end collisions. So,
this member of the ancient and honorable order of attorneys for the
brotherhood told the brakemen where to head in. Whereupon with much
professional profanity the trainmen declined, saying that no traveling
engineer could tell them what to do. The superintendent took the
brakemen out of service. They got back only on request of the traveling
engineer to whom they apologized. While authority was vindicated, an
undesirable situation had been developed. No matter how emphatic the
vindication may be, it is as bad for discipline to have authority
questioned as for a woman to have her virtue impugned. Since then the
unit system on that division has made the traveling engineer an
assistant superintendent, and the question of authority does not arise.
Out in that part of the country a fast train was pulling out of a
terminal. The trainmaster was out on the road. His clerk signed the
trainmaster's name to a message, telling the old passenger conductor to
make a stop to deliver what to the clerk was an important letter, ran
down and handed both to the conductor. The latter demurred, saying that
under his running orders the stop would make him miss a meeting point.
The clerk insisted and when the conductor disregarded the message the
latter was taken out of service. This was done on the old feudal theory
that the trainmaster's name and position must be respected. By the same
reasoning a bank teller should honor a check on which he knows the
signature is forged. Since then the unit system on that division
requires everyone to do business in his own name. Employes obey the
instructions of men shown by name on the time card, and are not at the
mercy of clerks. The old trainmaster's name is more respected because
it is signed only by himself and is not cheapened by use by Tom, Dick
and Harry. (Anvil chorus: "Such things couldn't happen on our road."
Perhaps not, but they do just the same, in a greater or less degree.)
When a conductor reports for train orders he has a right to know that a
competent dispatcher is on duty. He cannot dictate, however, what
particular dispatcher shall work the trick and give him his orders. The
unit system carries this same principle to correspondence and reports.
It denies the right of the employe to dictate what official shall
handle a certain letter or report, under normal conditions. The report
is addressed impersonally "Assistant Superintendent," and the office
decides what official is most available. As a matter of common sense
the expert in that line will be utilized. In his absence, however, his
feudal representative, a clerk, will not act for him. The clerk may
prepare the papers, but final action can be taken only by an official.
Highly technical problems are sent to the absent official on the road
or await his return. Each assistant may issue instructions, in his own
name, to such subordinates on his own pay roll as roadmasters under the
maintenance assistant, foremen under the mechanical assistant,
yardmasters under the transportation assistant, etc., etc. Before
these instructions leave the office, they should pass, like all
correspondence, over the desk of the senior assistant (chief of staff)
for his information and for the prevention of possible conflict and
confusion. Here, again, is a principle of train dispatching. All orders
concerning the running of trains go over the dispatcher's table. Should
there not be a similar check imposed on official instructions and
information imparted to hundreds of delicate, sensitive, human
machines, made in the image of God?
Why are not communications and reports addressed "Superintendent?"
Because there would be an implied obligation for the superintendent to
act. This obligation cannot be admitted under normal conditions.
Therefore, to be honest and straightforward, the address is "Assistant
Superintendent." Under this system the employe knows that some
assistant will see his communication, not the clerk of somebody else.
If the employe desires a particular official to see his communication,
he makes it personal by prefixing that official's name.
Any employe can address the superintendent by name for the same good
reason that the humblest citizen can appear in his own behalf in any
court in the land. Though the court is open, neither the citizen nor
his attorney can normally dictate what judge shall hear his case.
Authority is abstract and impersonal. The court exists if the judge is
dead. The exercise of authority is concrete and highly personal. The
court is silent until the judge speaks. Conversely, the superintendent
as the head of the unit may address any employe direct without going
through the assistant on whose payroll the employe is carried. Common
sense and the personal equation of the officials concerned indicate how
far this elastic feature can be carried. Courtesy requires prompt
notification of the assistant concerned. Officials have superiors, and
to attempt to convey the idea that each is a feudal chief, when in
reality he is not, can result only in self-deception. The practice of
each division superintendent reissuing verbatim in his own name
instruction circulars from the office of the superintendent of
transportation is misleading and ridiculous.