Here I sit in all the peace and stillness of the Cape Cod coast, days
filled with only such work as I love, and play aplenty, healthy
youngsters frolicky about me, the warmest of friends close by. The
larder is stocked with good food, good books are on the shelves, each
day starts and ends with a joyous feeling about the heart.
And I, this sunburnt, carefree person, pretend to have been as a
worker among workers. Again some one says, "The artificiality of it!"
Back in that hot New York the girls I labored among are still packing
chocolates, cutting wick holes for brass lamp cones, ironing "family,"
beading in the crowded dress factory. Up at the Falls they are hemming
sheets and ticketing pillow cases. In the basement of the hotel some
pantry girl, sweltering between the toaster and the egg boiler, is
watching the clock to see if rush time isn't almost by.
Granted at the start, if you remember, and granted through each
individual job, it was artificial--my part in it all. But what in the
world was there to do about that? I was determined that not forever
would I take the say-so of others on every phase of the labor problem.
Some things I would experience for myself. Certain it is I cannot know
any less than before I started. Could I help knowing at least a bit
more? I do know more--I know that I know more!
And yet again I feel constrained to call attention to the fact that
six jobs, even if the results of each experience were the very richest
possible, are but an infinitesimal drop in what must be a full bucket
of industrial education before a person should feel qualified to speak
with authority on the subject of labor. Certain lessons were learned,
certain tentative conclusions arrived at. They are given here for what
they may be worth and in a very humble spirit. Indeed, I am much more
humble in the matter of my ideas concerning labor than before I took
my first job.
Perhaps the most valuable lesson learned was that a deep distrust of
generalizations has been acquired, to last, I hope, the rest of life.
It is so easy, so comfortable, to make a statement of fact to cover
thousands of cases. Nowhere does the temptation seem to be greater
than in a discussion of labor. "Labor wants this and that!" "Labor
thinks thus and so!" "Labor does this and the other thing!" Thus
speaks the labor propagandist, feeling the thrill of solid millions
behind him; thus speaks the "capitalist," feeling the antagonism of
solid millions against him.
And all this time, how many hearts really beat as one in the labor
world?
Indeed, the situation would clear up with more rapidity if we went to
the other extreme and thought of labor always as thirty million
separate individuals. We would be nearer the truth than to consider
them as this one great like-minded mass, all yearning for the same
spiritual freedom; all eager for the downfall of capitalism.
What can one individual know of the hopes and desires of thirty
millions? Indeed, it is a rare situation where one person can speak
honestly and intelligently for one hundred others. Most of us know
precious little about ourselves. We understand still less concerning
anyone else. In a very general way, everyone in the nation wants the
same things. That is a good point to remember, for those who would
exaggerate group distinctions. In a particular way, no two people
function exactly alike, have the same ambitions, same capacities.
There is, indeed, no great like-minded mass of laborers. Instead we
have millions of workers split into countless small groups, whose
group interests in the great majority of cases loom larger on the
horizon than any hold the labor movement, as such, might have on them.
Such interests, for instance, as family, nationality, religion,
politics. Besides, there is the division which sex interests and
rivalries make--the conflict, too, between youth and age.
Yet for the sake of a working efficiency we must do a minimum of
classifying. Thirty million is too large a number to handle
separately. There seems to be a justification for a division of labor,
industrially considered, into three groups, realizing the division is
a very loose one:
1. Labor or class-conscious group.
2. Industrially conscious group.
3. Industrially nonconscious group.
The great problem of the immediate future is to get groups 1 and 3
into Group 2. The more idealistic problem of the more distant future
is to turn a great industrially conscious group into a socially
conscious group.
* * * * *
By the first group, the labor or class-conscious group, is meant the
members of the American Federation of Labor, Industrial Workers of the
World, four railroad Brotherhoods, Amalgamated Clothing Workers,
socialist and communist organizations--workers whose affiliations with
certain bodies tend to make them ultraconscious of the fact that they
are wage workers and against the capitalist system. Class antagonism
is fostered. There is much use of the word "exploited." In their press
and on their platforms such expressions are emphasized as "profits for
the lazy who exploit the workers." Everything possible is done to
paint labor white, the employer black, forgetting that no side has the
monopoly in any shade.
To those who from sympathy or antagonism would picture at least
organized labor as like-minded, it must be pointed out that for the
great part the several millions represented by Group 1 are perhaps
more often warring in their aims and desires than acting as one. Never
have they acted as one. Organized labor represents but a fraction of
labor as a whole. Some more or less spectacular action on the part of
capital against labor always tends to solidify the organized workers.
They are potentially like-minded in specific instances. Otherwise the
interests of the carpenters' union tends to overshadow the interests
of the A. F. of L. as a whole; the interests of the A. F. of L. tend
most decidedly to overshadow the interests of organized labor as a
whole. Socialists bark at communists. Charges of capitalist tendencies
are made against the four Brotherhoods. The women's unions feel
legislated against in the affairs of labor. Indeed, only utter
stupidity on the part of capital ever could weld organized labor into
enough solidarity to get society or anyone else agitated for long.
Much of the "open shop" fight borders on such stupidity.
Group 2 is at present but an infinitesimal fraction of labor. It
comprises those workers whose background has been fortunate enough, as
to both heredity and environment, to allow of their main industrial
interests centering around the doing of their particular job well for
the sake of their industry as a whole, to which a sentiment of loyalty
has been aroused and held. There is no feeling of class antagonism, no
assurance that the interests of labor are forever inimical to those of
the employer, and _vice versa_. Where such an attitude exists on the
part of workers it presupposes an employer of unusual breadth of
understanding or a deep love for his fellow-man. As co-operation in
industry can be shown to pay socially and financially, so may this
type of employer come more and more to supersede the old-fashioned
"boss."
Group 3, the industrially nonconscious workers, includes the great
majority of labor in the United States. Under this heading come all
those who for reasons connected with the type of industry engaged in,
or because of individual or sex characteristics, remain apart from any
so-called labor movement. Practically all women fall under this head,
most of the foreign labor population, most of unskilled labor. Many
members of labor organizations technically belonging in Group 1 really
fall under Group 3. The great majority of American labor undoubtedly
are not class or group conscious in the sense that they feel
themselves as workers pitted against a capitalist class.
Temperamentally, intellectually, the doctrines of Karl Marx are not
for them. They never heard of Karl Marx. They get up and go to work in
the morning. During the day they dub away at something or other,
whatever it may be--the chances are it changes rather often--putting
no more effort into the day's work than is necessary to hold down an
uninteresting job. They want their pay at the end of the week. Many
have not the minimum intellectual capacity necessary to do a piece of
work properly. Many more have not the minimum physical capacity
required for even routine tasks. Very many, indeed, are nervous
misfits.
Yet a goodly number in Group 3 represent a high type of worker to whom
the doctrine of class warfare is repugnant, and yet whose industrial
experience has never resulted in making them industrially conscious.
They feel no particular call to show more than average interest in
their job.
Peace, efficiency, production in industry, can come only as Group 2
increases. To recruit from Group 1 will always be difficult. Once
labor feels itself hostile to the employer and his interests, which is
another way of saying, once the employing group by its tactics
succeeds in making labor conclude that "the working class and the
employing class have nothing in common," the building up of a spirit
of co-operation is difficult indeed. Class consciousness is poor soil
in which to plant any seeds of industrial enthusiasm.
Would you, then, asks a dismayed unionist, build up your so-called
industrially conscious group at the expense of organized labor? The
answer is a purely pragmatic one, based on the condition of things as
they are, not as idealists would have them. Rightly or wrongly, the
American employing group long ago decided that the organized-labor
movement was harmful to American industry. The fact that the labor
movement was born of the necessity of the workers, and in the main
always flourished because of the continued need of the workers, was
never taken into account. Every conceivable argument was and is used
against organized labor. Many of those arguments are based on half
truths; or no truths at all. The fact remains that probably the
majority of the American public believes the organized-labor movement
to be against our social, civic, and industrial welfare. However
right or wrong such a deduction is, it is safe to say that for the
great part those who hold that belief do so in absolute good faith.
The result is that the American labor movement has developed ever in
an atmosphere so hostile that the effect on the growth of the movement
has been that which hostile environment always exerts on any growing
thing. It has warped the movement. It has emphasized everything
hostile within the movement itself. No wonder a fighting spirit has
ever been in evidence. No wonder only the fighting type of labor
leader has emerged. The movement has had little or no opportunity for
construction. Always the struggle for existence itself has been
uppermost. No wonder the conclusion can justly be drawn that the
American labor movement has not always played a highly productive role
in American industry.
It has been everybody's fault, if we are searching for a resting place
for the blame of it all. Which gets us no place.
The point is, looked at without the tinted glasses of either capital
or labor, that the psychology of the American employer for the past,
assuredly the present, and at least the near future, has been, and is,
and will be, so inimical to organized labor that the movement would
not be allowed to function as a constructive industrial force. Too
much of its energies must go to fighting. At the same time, too much
of the energies of the employer go to fighting it. The public pays
the price, and it is enormous. The spiritual cost of bitterness of
spirit far outweighs any monetary loss to industry, tremendous as that
is.
Why is not the present, then, a wise time in which to encourage an
alternative movement, one that has not the effect of a red rag to a
bull? Labor can shout its loudest; the fact remains that in this
country labor is very far from controlling the industrial situation.
Therefore, the employer must still be taken into account in any
program of industrial reform. That being so, it might be saner to try
some scheme the employer will at least listen to than stubbornly
continue to fight the issue out along the old lines of organized labor
alone, at the very mention of which the average employer grows red in
the face.
It is not, indeed, that we would do away with the organized-labor
movement, if we could. The condition is far too precarious for that.
Labor too often needs the support of unionism to keep from being
crushed. The individual too often needs the educational influence
organization exerts. Organized labor, despite the handicaps within and
without, has too much of construction to its credit. The point is,
further growth in the organized-labor movement, considering the
development forced upon the movement by its own past and the ever
antagonistic attitude of business, will not, for the present and
immediate future, necessarily spell peace, efficiency, production.
Rather, continued, if not increased, bitterness.
What is the development, at least for the present and immediate
future, which will improve the situation?
The first move--and by that we mean the thing to start doing
_to-day_--is to begin converting the non-industrially conscious group
into the industrially conscious group. Group 3 is peaceful--they call
no attention to themselves by any unrest or demands or threats. But
they are not efficient or productive, the reason being that they have
not enough interest in their jobs, or in many cases are not physically
or mentally competent. Theirs are sins of omission, not commission.
The process of this conversion means many things. It means first and
foremost an understanding of human nature; a realization that the
great shortcoming of industry has been that it held, as organized, too
little opportunity for a normal outlet to the normal and more or less
pressing interests and desires of human beings.
It worked in a vicious circle. The average job gave the worker little
or no chance to show any initiative, to feel any sense of ownership or
responsibility, to use such intellect and enthusiasm as he possessed.
The attitude of the average employer built up no spirit of loyalty or
co-operation between management and men. Hence these very human
tendencies, compelling expression in a normal personality, became
atrophied, as far as the job was concerned, and sought such
functioning as a discouraging environment left them capable of in
fields outside of industry--in many cases, within the labor movement
itself. The less capacity the job called out, the more incapable the
worker became. Tendencies inherent in human nature, whose expressions
all these years could have been enriching the individual and industry,
and therefore the nation as a whole, have been balked entirely, or
shunted off to find expression often in antisocial outlets. In some
cases the loss to industry was small, since the individual capacities
at best were small. In other cases the loss was great indeed. In every
case, encouragement of the use of capacities increases the
possibilities of those capacities.
The first step in this process of conversion then is to reorganize the
relationship between management and men so that as many outlets as
possible within industry can be found for those human expressions
whose functioning will enrich the individual and industry. Which means
that little by little the workers must share in industrial
responsibilities. The job itself, with every conceivable invention for
calling out the creative impulse, can never, under the machine
process, enlist sufficient enthusiasm for sustained interest and
loyalty on the part of the worker. He must come to have a word in
management, in determining the conditions under which he labors five
and a half to seven days a week.
It is a nice point here. The parlor Bolshevik pictures all labor eager
and anxious and capable of actually controlling industry. The fact of
the matter is that most individuals from any and every walk of life
prefer to sidestep responsibility. Yet everyone does better under
some. Too much may have a more disastrous effect than not enough--to
the individual as well as industry. Here again is where there must be
caution in generalizing. Each employer has a problem of his own. Nor
can the exact amount of responsibility necessary to call out maximum
efficiency and enthusiasm ever be determined in advance.
I have talked to numerous employers whose experience has been the
same. At first their employees showed no desire for any added
responsibility whatever. Had there not been the conviction that they
were on the right track, the whole scheme of sharing management with
the workers would have been abandoned. Little by little, however,
latent abilities were drawn out; as more responsibilities were
intrusted to the workers, their capacities for carrying the
responsibilities increased. In two cases that I know of personally,
the employees actually control the management of their respective
companies. In both these companies the employers announced that their
businesses were making more money than under one-sided management.
On the whole, this development of the partnership idea in industry is
a matter of the necessary intellectual conviction that the idea is
sound--whether that conviction be arrived at _via_ ethics or "solid
business judgment"--to be followed by the technical expert who knows
how to put the idea into practice. That he will know only after
careful study of each individual plant as a situation peculiar unto
itself. He is a physician, diagnosing a case of industrial anaemia. As
in medicine, so industry has its quacks--experts who prescribe pink
pills for pale industries, the administration of which may be attended
with a brief show of energy and improvement, only to relapse into the
old pallor. As between a half-baked "expert" and an "ignorant"
employer whose heart is in the right place--take the employer. If he
sincerely feels that long enough has he gone on the principle, "I'll
run my business as I see fit and take suggestions from no one"; if it
has suddenly come over him that, after all, the employee is in most
ways but another like himself, and that all this time that employee
might be laboring under the notion, often more unconscious than
conscious, that he would "like to run his job as he saw fit and take
suggestions from no one"; if, then, that employer calls his men
together and says, "let's run the business as we all together see fit
and take suggestions from one another"--then is that employer and that
business on the road to industrial peace, efficiency, and production,
expert or no expert. The road is uphill, the going often rough and
discouraging, but more often than not the load of management becomes
lighter, easing overburdened muscles; the load of labor in a sense
heavier, yet along with the added weight, as they warm to the task
there develops a sense that they are trusted, are necessary to the
success of the march, that they now are men, doing man-sized work.
Perhaps in only a minimum of cases will the load ever be divided
"fifty-fifty." Too soon would the workers tire of their added burden,
too few could carry the added weight. The fact remains that with
management carrying the whole load, the march is going very badly
indeed on the whole. At times the procession scarcely seems to move.
There can surely be no harm in the employing end shifting a bit of the
burden. A bit cannot wreck either side. Managerial shoulders may feel
more comfortable under the decreased weight and try another shift.
In recruiting Group 2 from Group 3, it is the employer, on the whole,
who must take the initiative. Labor may show no desire to help
shoulder the burden. Yet they must shoulder some of it to amount to
anything themselves, if for no other reason. It may take actual
pushing and shoving at first to get them on their way.
Recruiting from Group 1 is a different matter. There sometimes are
workers who would grab most of the load at the start--or all of it.
Their capacities are untried, the road and its twistings and turnings
is unknown to them. Each side has been throwing stones at the other,
tripping each other up. There is a hostile spirit to begin with, a
spirit of distrust between management and men. Here then is a more
difficult problem. It is more than a matter of shifting the load a
bit; it is a matter of changing the spirit as well. That takes much
patience, much tact. It is not a case of the employer making all the
overtures. Each side is guilty of creating cause for suspicion and
distrust. Each side has to experience a change of heart. It is one
thing to convince a previously unthinking person; it is another to
bring about a change of heart in one frankly antagonistic. Making
industrially enthusiastic workers out of class and labor-conscious
workers will indeed be a task requiring determination, tact, patience
without end, and wisdom of many sorts--on both sides. Some one has to
sell the idea of co-operation to labor as well as to the employer. And
then know the job is only begun. But the biggest start is made when
the atmosphere is cleared so that the partnership idea itself can take
root. Some on both sides never will be converted.
What about the great body of workers unfit physically, mentally,
nervously, to carry any additional load at all? Here is a field for
the expert. Yet here is a field where society as a whole must play a
part. Most of the physical, mental, nervous harm is done before ever
the individual reaches industry. Indeed, at most, industry is but one
influence out of many playing on the lives of the human beings who
labor. Nor can it ever be studied as a sphere entirely apart. Much is
aggravated by conditions over which industry itself has no direct
control. Health centers, civic hygienic measures of all sorts, are of
great importance. A widespread education in the need of healthy and
spiritually constructive influences during the first ten years of
life, if we are to have healthy, wholesome, and capable adults, must
gain headway. Saner preparation for life as a whole must take the
place of the lingering emphasis on the pedagogical orthodoxy still
holding sway.
While industry is not responsible for many conditions which make
subnormal workers, industry cannot evade the issue or shift the burden
if it desires peace, efficiency, production. These goals cannot be
obtained on any basis other than the welfare of the workers. No matter
how sane is welfare work within the plant, there must develop a
growing interest and understanding in "off the plant" work. The job is
blamed for much. Yet often the worker's relation to the job is but the
reflection of the conditions he left to go to work in the morning, the
conditions he returns to after the day's work is done. There again is
a vicious circle. The more unfortunate the conditions of a man's home
life--we do not refer to the material side alone--the less efficiently
he is apt to work during the day. The less efficiently he works during
the day, the less competent he will be to better his home conditions.
When men expressed themselves in their particular handicraft they
found much of their joy in life in their work. One of the by-products
of large-scale industry and the accompanying subdivision of labor has
been the worker's inevitable lack of interest in the monotonous job.
Since too long hours spent at mechanical, repetitious labor result in
a lowered standard of efficiency, and rebellion on the part of the
worker, there has followed a continual tendency toward a reduction in
the length of the working day. The fewer hours spent on the job, the
greater the opportunity conditions outside industry proper have to
exert their influence on character formation. With the shorter working
day there develop more pressing reasons than ever for the emphasis on
off-the-plant activities, and wholesome home and civic conditions. All
these together, and not industry alone, make the worker.
The growth of the spirit and fruit of industrial democracy will not
bring any millennium. It will merely make a somewhat better world to
live in here and now. The dreamers of us forget that in the long run
the world can move only so far and so fast as human nature allows for,
and few of us evaluate human nature correctly. The six industrial
experiences in this book have made me feel that the heart of the world
is even warmer than I had thought--folk high and low are indeed
readier to love than to hate, to help than to hinder. But on the whole
our circles of understanding and interest are bounded by what our own
eyes see and our own ears hear. The problems of industry are
enormously aggravated by the fact that the numbers of individuals
concerned even in particular plants, mills, mines, factories, stretch
the capacities of human management too often beyond the possibilities
of human understanding and sympathy. More or less artificial machinery
must be set up to bring management and men in contact with each other
to the point where the problems confronting each side are within
eyesight and earshot of the other. Up to date it has been as
impossible for labor to understand the difficulties of management as
for management to understand the difficulties of labor. Neither side
ever got within shouting distance of the other--except, indeed, to
shout abuse! Many a strike would have been averted had the employer
been willing to let his workers know just what the conditions were
which he had to face; or had the workers in other instances shown any
desire to take those conditions into account.
For, when all is said and done, the real solution of our industrial
difficulties lies not in expert machinery, however perfect, for the
adjustment or avoidance of troubles. "Industrial peace must come not
as a result of the balance of power with a supreme court of appeal in
the background. It must arise as the inevitable by-product of mutual
confidence, real justice, constructive good will."[3]
[Footnote 3: From Constitution of Industrial Council for the
Building Industry, England.]
Any improved industrial condition in the future must take as its
foundation the past one hundred years of American industry. The fact
that this foundation was not built of mutual confidence, real justice,
constructive good will is what makes the task of necessary
reconstruction so extremely difficult. Countless persons might be
capable of devising the mechanical approach to peace and
prosperity--courts of arbitration, boards of representation, and the
like. But how bring about a change of heart in the breast of millions?
It is a task so colossal that one would indeed prefer to lean heavily
on the shoulders of an all-wise Providence and let it go with the
consoling assurance that, as to a solution, "the Lord will provide."
But the echoes of recriminations shouted by each side against the
other; the cries of foul play; the accusations of willful injustice;
the threats of complete annihilation of capital by organized labor, of
organized labor by capital--must reach to heaven itself, and
Providence might well pause in dismay. Constructive good will? Where
make a beginning?
The beginnings, however, are being made right on earth, and here and
now. It is a mistake to look for spectacular changes, reforms on a
large scale. Rather do the tendencies toward mutual understanding and
this all-necessary good will evince themselves only here and there, in
quiet experiments going on in individual plants and factories. The
seed will bear fruit but slowly. But the seed is planted.
Planted? Nay, the seed has been there forever, nor have the harshest
developments in the most bloodless of industries ever been able to
crush it out. It is part and parcel of human nature that we can love
more easily and comfortably than hate, that we can help more readily
than hinder. Flourishing broadcast through all human creation is
enough good will to revolutionize the world in a decade. It is not the
lack of good will. Rather the channels for its expression are
blocked--blocked by the haste and worry of modern life, by the
multiplicity of material possessions which so frequently choke our
sympathies; by the cruelties of competition, too often run to the
extremes of crushing out inborn human kindness. And most of all,
blocked by ignorance and misunderstanding of our fellow-beings.
It is a sound business deduction that the greatest stumbling blocks in
the difficulties between labor and capital to-day resolve themselves
down to just that lack of understanding of our fellow-beings. Yet
without that understanding, how build up a spirit of mutual
confidence, real justice, constructive good will? On what other
foundation can a saner industrialism be built?
The place to make the beginning is in each individual shop and
business and industry. The spark to start the blaze in each human
heart, be it beating on the side of capital or on that of labor, is
the sudden revelation that every worker is far more the exact
counterpart of his employer in the desires of his body and soul than
otherwise; that the employer is no other than the worker in body and
soul, except that his scope and range of problems to be met are on a
different level. True it is that we are all far more "sisters and
brothers under the skin" than strangers.
No sane person is looking for a perfect industrialism, is watching for
the day when brotherly love will be the motive of all human conduct.
But it is within the bounds of sanity to work toward an increase in
understanding between the human factors in industry; it is justifiable
to expect improved industrial conditions, once increased understanding
is brought about. Industry needs experts in scientific management, in
mental hygiene, in cost accounting--in fields innumerable. But what
industry needs more than anything else--more, indeed, than all the
reformers--are translators--translators of human beings to one
another. "Reforms" will follow of themselves.