Title: Confessions of a Railroad Signalman
Author: Fagan, James O. (James Octavius)
Language: English
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CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN


[Illustration: A TYPICAL SMASH-UP]


CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN

by

J. O. FAGAN

With Illustrations


[Illustration]



Boston and New York
Houghton Mifflin Company
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1908

Copyright 1908 by J. O. Fagan
All Rights Reserved

Published October 1908

Second Impression



CONTENTS


    I. A RAILROAD MAN TO RAILROAD MEN       1

   II. THE MEN                             26

  III. THE MANAGEMENT                      47

   IV. LOYALTY                             69

    V. THE SQUARE DEAL                     95

   VI. THE HUMAN EQUATION                 118

  VII. DISCIPLINE                         149



ILLUSTRATIONS


  A TYPICAL SMASH-UP           _Frontispiece_

  A HEAD-ON COLLISION                      26

  A YARD WRECK                             52

  A TYPICAL DERAILMENT                     82

  A REAR-END COLLISION                    112

  WHAT COMES FROM A MISPLACED SWITCH      132

  DOWN AN EMBANKMENT IN WINTER            150

  THE AFTERMATH                           176

  Acknowledgment is due to the proprietors of _Collier’s Weekly_ and of
  the _Boston Herald_ for their courteous loan of the photographs from
  which the above illustrations have been engraved.



CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNALMAN



I

A RAILROAD MAN TO RAILROAD MEN


Considering the nature and intent of the following essays on the safety
problem on American railroads, some kind of a foreword will not be out
of place. As much as possible I wish to make this foreword a personal
presentation of the subject. But in order to do this in a satisfactory
manner, it will be necessary to take a preliminary survey of the
situation and of the topics in which we, as railroad employees, are all
personally interested.

In the industrial world of to-day, the railroad man occupies a position
altogether different from the ordinary run of workers in factories or
machine shops. On account of the nature and importance of our calling
we are constantly in the public eye. By way of encouragement and as
an incentive to good service, public opinion accords to us certain
distinctive privileges. That there may be no excuse for laxity of
conduct or inefficiency of service, we are looked upon in many ways
as wards of the state and the nation. Not only are the hardships we
endure and the dangers we are called upon to face matters in which
the public is profoundly interested, but all details relating to our
wages and to our treatment by railroad corporations have always been
considered by the American people as topics in the discussion of which
they are at all times intimately concerned.

Glancing backward at the history of railroad life in America, it is
easy to perceive that this public sympathy and encouragement has been
the strong right arm that has supported the railroad employee in a
long-drawn-out struggle for the bettering of his social and financial
condition. In some directions and in some branches of the service, the
issues at stake have been bitterly contested, but the final results
are probably unexampled among the successful achievements of organized
labor. Not only numerically and financially, but also as regards the
intelligence and education of its units, the railroad service to-day
stands in the foremost position among the great industrial institutions
of the country.

The nature of the service we railroad men render to the public in
return for these benefits is most important, and, under present
conditions, extremely dangerous. Some idea of the hazardous nature of
our occupation may be gathered from the facts that, in a single year,
one employee in every 364 was killed, and one in every 22 was injured.
In the ranks of engineers, firemen, conductors, and brakemen, one in
every 123 was killed and one in every 10 was injured. This is about
the average record of recent years. It means, of course, an appalling
number of accidents, and these accidents are manifestly an eloquent
reflection of the risks to which the traveling public is constantly
exposed.

In many ways humanity is indebted to the railroad man to as great a
degree as to the sailor. The latter, indeed, has greater hardships to
endure; he is not nearly so well paid, and he has to submit to a much
stricter code of discipline. But for some reason the railroad man has
the more dangerous occupation, if one may judge from a comparison of
the fatalities that occur at sea and on the rail. In a storm at sea,
when battened down under closed hatches, with nothing to think about
but the fury of the gale and our own helpless situation, we appreciate
to the full our dependence upon the courage and watchfulness of the
sailor. But the public does not consider a railroad man from quite the
same viewpoint, for the reason, perhaps, that the unavoidable dangers
on the rail are not to be compared with the ever-present peril that
surrounds a ship in its battle with the elements. And yet when we come
to compare actual results, that is, the statistics in regard to ship
travel and train travel, one is quickly confronted with the conclusion
that the public is fully as dependent for its safety upon the human
elements of vigilance and consecration to duty in the one case as in
the other.

Looking at our subject from the widest standpoint, however, it is
evident that the dangers that threaten a passenger on the steam-cars
are more numerous than the passenger himself has any idea of, and
these dangers are very uncertain in their nature and difficult to
guard against. Constant attention and supervision is being universally
exercised by the railroad officials, for the purpose of reducing to a
minimum the number of accidents that occur from defective equipment
and the like; but the accidents caused by the personal neglect or
carelessness of the individual employee is a branch of the subject that
calls for a very different kind of investigation and treatment.

In order to get an intelligent and comprehensive idea of these railroad
accidents, both avoidable and unavoidable, the National Government has
directed and empowered the Interstate Commerce Commission to secure
and to publish statistics on the subject. In this way, for a number of
years, the public has been kept informed in regard to all casualties
of whatever nature that take place on our railroads. But right here
the work and influence of the National and State Commissions, as well
as of all railroad managers and individual investigators into the
personal side of the problem, come to an end. Being in full possession
and understanding of the actual results of our system of operating
the railroad, the authorities seem disinclined to adopt any radical
measures for the improvement of the service. In a report prepared for
Congress some time ago, by the Interstate Commerce Commission, it was
distinctly affirmed that these avoidable accidents are mostly due to
the failure in duty of signalmen and enginemen.

“There is no escape from the conclusion that the block system is the
best-known instrumentality for the prevention of collisions,” says the
report, “notwithstanding the imperfections that have been shown in the
results of its operations.”

According to the same report, during a given period, thirteen
collisions occurred under the telegraph-block system, and all of these,
so the commissioners say, were chargeable, not to the engineman, but
to the telegraph operator. Yet in the same period seven collisions
occurred on lines operated under the automatic block-signal system,
where the telegraph operators are eliminated. These collisions were due
to misconduct or neglect of enginemen. It is reasoned from this that
the defect in the automatic block system is that the telegraph operator
is not there to caution the engineman. The presence of a telegraph
operator who attends the signal station serves as a caution to the
engineman; whereas, when the telegrapher is not there, the engineman is
in danger of failing to note the signal. In other words, the Commission
finds the telegrapher left to himself is unreliable, and the same
conclusion is arrived at in regard to the engineman and the automatic
signals. According to the report, to obtain the desired security the
best-known method is to rely upon the coöperation of these three
acknowledged insecurities.

But apart from this consideration, the point for us railroad men to
note is that we have been found directly and personally responsible
for the accidents. Our failure in duty has been the actual cause for
the loss of life resulting from these collisions. To say the least,
these failures in duty are very numerous, and the authorities who
are depended upon to look into these matters are of opinion that
“the block-signal system is the best-known instrumentality for the
prevention of” these accidents. But, unfortunately, a great many years
must elapse before the railroads, both single and double track, can be
thoroughly equipped with these signals, and meanwhile the public must
remain at the mercy of these failures in duty which in the main, some
day, block signals are expected to eliminate.

Working along these lines, however, the progress made by the
authorities in eliminating the causes of these accidents and in
improving the conditions has so far been very insignificant. There
seems to be an inclination in all quarters to let things run their
natural course, and to wait for the time when these accidents shall
have become mechanically impossible.

But the writer of this book has very different ideas on the subject.
He has studied the actual results that have been obtained from these
block-signal systems, and at the same time he has paid particular
attention to the behavior and responsibility of the men in regard
to these accidents. The study referred to has not been a matter of
a month or two, but of many years. For unknown reasons some of my
critics have seen fit to question the nature of my experience as a
railroad man. Fortunately it is an easy matter to give an account of my
qualifications. The mere fact that one has had a varied and lifelong
experience as an engineman or a conductor would be only partially
significant. But a man who has been a telegraph operator and towerman
for twenty-seven years and part of the time chief clerk to a railroad
superintendent has certainly some claims to an all-round knowledge of
his subject. The extent of the territory covered by this experience
is even wider than one would suppose. For a telegraph operator is, of
necessity, one of the best-posted men in the service. He has occasion
to observe, and he is more or less obliged to understand, nearly
every move that an engineman, conductor, or brakeman has occasion to
make in the routine of his work. He has every opportunity to observe
just how trainmen of all classes obey the rules and the signals.
Add to this opportunity to become conversant with the practical
side of railroad life, the knowledge that is derived from attending
to the correspondence of a superintendent and the general work of
the office. This includes supervision of pay-rolls, the hiring and
examination of men, the investigation of accidents, the tracing of
trouble of every description, and the handling and movements of both
freight and passenger trains. In a general way this has been the
nature of my experience, which I think has been eminently practical
and not “academic.” Consequently, although some of my statements and
conclusions may be questioned by railroad men who have had equal or
greater experience, I nevertheless think that, in the interests of the
public safety, I should be favored with a full and patient hearing.

Addressing the great body of American railroad men, I have no
hesitation in saying that the service with which we are connected
rests to-day under the shadow of a great shame. The situation cannot
be looked upon in any other light, and it remains with us as a body,
and as individuals, to apply the remedy. In order that my standpoint
and the reasons for my conclusion may be thoroughly understood, I think
it will be profitable, as well as interesting, to give a short history
of the personal investigation and study which, for many years, I have
steadily pursued in the interests of better and safer railroad service.

Manifestly, in order to treat my subject in the widest and fairest
manner, all sentimental or personal scruples must be thrown aside. In
explaining my position I can in no way be a respecter of persons or
traditions. To me the management of a railroad is merely part of the
subject-matter which I am called upon to consider, and an organization
of railroad men is nothing more or less, so far as my investigation is
concerned, than a combination of units constituting a certain influence
which I feel myself at perfect liberty to criticise in the interests
of the larger social body represented by the traveling public. The
death roll and the record of suffering in preventable accidents in the
United States is justification, repeated a hundred times over, for any
and every conceivable probe into personal conduct or the policy of
organizations.

But in holding up the conduct of others to criticism, it is but
reasonable that I should begin with my own conduct and work in the
matter. By what methods and means, for example, have I arrived at the
conclusion that on our railroads the interests of the community have
become secondary to those of the employee and his organization? This,
of course, must be looked upon as a very serious statement, and it
certainly calls for the earnest consideration of intelligent railroad
men. In order to understand the nature of my evidence on the subject,
it will be necessary to go back with me to the time when my attention
was first directed to railroad accidents.

In the year 1892 a very serious accident occurred near the signal
tower where I was employed. Although I was not on duty at the time I
was naturally very much interested in the case, and I paid particular
attention to the evidence that was brought forward at the hearing in
the effort that was made to hold an engineman responsible for the
disaster.

A passenger train, standing at a “home signal,” which was set at
danger, was telescoped from the rear by a freight train, running
practically at full speed. About 1500 feet from the home signal a
distant signal was located. This signal, in the cautionary position
at the time, was a distinct notification to the freight engineman to
proceed cautiously and to prepare to stop before arriving at the home
signal. An additional reason for such caution arose from the fact
that the night was dark and extremely foggy. The explanation of this
accident was to me extremely simple. The signals were all right, and
so were the rules for that matter; but, from one end of the road to
the other, these distant signals were dead letters. In the daytime,
with apparently a clear track, absolutely no significance was attached
to them; consequently I was not surprised at this disaster in a fog.
But the incident was brought home to me in such a dreadful way that it
started a line of thought and an investigation into the safety problem
on our railroads, that has lasted until to-day.

But once started in my study, there was no turning back. Within
sight of the interlocking tower where I worked there was a freight
yard of considerable dimensions; the main lines of the railroad ran
through this yard, and cross-over switches connecting one side with
the other were protected by what are called yard protection signals.
These protection signals, which are located about 1200 feet from the
cross-overs, must be thrown to the danger or stop position before the
switches can be changed. Once in a while, however, I noticed that the
signal in question was put up to danger after an engine had passed,
which of course disclosed a very serious state of affairs, for the
engine in question was almost certain to get into trouble at the
cross-overs. Taking note of this danger, I called it to the attention
of the management. The result was, a rule calling for flag protection
as well as signal protection at this particular point, but no attention
was paid to other yards on the system where the conditions were more or
less similar. As a matter of fact, it was not until a serious wreck had
occurred that a general rule on the subject was put into force. This
rule ordered the employee, after he had placed the signal at the stop
position, to wait a sufficient time to allow a train that might have
passed the signal to arrive at the cross-overs and thus to proceed in
safety.

Now I would like railroad men in general to pay particular attention
to my criticism of their conduct in relation to this rule and to other
illustrations that follow. Here is a necessary law, put into force by
the management for the safety of travel and the good of the service.
It is a direct appeal to the common sense and honor of employees.
Nevertheless, in a short time after the order was issued, it was a dead
letter. True, very frequently in clear weather the rule is absolutely
unnecessary; but when the weather is foggy, or at places where there
is a curve, the failure to observe the rule is liable to result in a
wreck. In one month I was a witness to eighteen breaches of the rule on
a single division of a railroad.

It must be understood that I am now describing my actual experience
with men, management, and rules, and the reasons that induced me to
follow the matter up and to inquire if the work I am describing can be
termed typical of American railroads.

Of course, one of my first thoughts in regard to the non-observance of
rules related to the lack of adequate supervision by the management. To
me it seemed to be a remarkable fact that I could easily follow up the
working of a rule and the behavior of the men in regard to it, but the
management seldom did anything of the kind. In this way my field for
investigation became wider and wider, and I quickly arrived at an idea
of the seriousness of the situation, from the standpoint of the people
who travel from place to place on the cars.

One day a conductor of a freight train came into my office and asked
for a train order which, according to the rules, called for the
signature of both engineman and conductor. After receiving the order by
telegraph from the train dispatcher, I placed it on the desk ready for
the signatures. A minute or two later, when I returned from some other
work, I saw that the conductor had signed the order for himself and
the engineman as well. I said to him, “That will never do. Not so long
ago that trick killed three trainmen, wrecked two engines, and cost
the company something like $50,000. You must go for your engineman.”
“That’s a great note,” the conductor replied. “You mean to say you
intend to make me walk half a mile and lose half an hour in order to
get that signature; you are the first operator who ever picked me up
in this way. Why, they do this thing right along up the road. If the
dispatcher was making a meeting point it would be different, but it’s
done every day in the case of a work train or a gravel train.” “That
may be very true,” I replied, “but you can’t do it here; the engineman
himself must sign the order.” Now this man was actually telling the
truth, and in a very short time I had the proofs in my possession.

Railroad men who read these lines must remember that in those days I
was simply collecting evidence in a fair and honorable way, for my own
private purposes, that would enable me to assign some kind of reason or
cause for the lamentable loss of life on American railroads. I found
the railroad business wherever I went to be bristling with reasons, and
the more I looked into the matter the greater became my astonishment.

It cannot be claimed that my illustrations apply to only one or two
railroads, for an examination into these accidents, regardless of
locality, will reveal the fact that almost without exception they have
resulted from the disregard of rules that are practically similar in
nature and intent on all railroads.

In those days, and to a great extent at the present time, railroads
were equipped with fixed cautionary signals. On approaching such
signals it became the duty of the engineman to run slowly and look out.
I discovered, in fact it was a matter of common knowledge and remark,
that not one man in fifty did anything of the kind, although accidents
from the breach of this rule were of daily occurrence, and the lives of
thousands of passengers and employees had already paid tribute to this
disgraceful state of affairs. To my mind the personal nature of this
general inefficiency was its remarkable feature. We railroad men were
running the business, and the management and the public got it into
their heads, in some way, that we were doing our duty. Unfortunately,
with the facts before me, I was unable to console myself with any
such delusion. The nature and variety of the incidents I was able to
discover were most astonishing. While I certainly dislike to beat the
air in this way with illustrations, the matter of our own personal
conduct and our direct responsibility for these preventable accidents
cannot be sufficiently emphasized. At any rate, the incidents I am
describing must be taken as the incentive and inspiration I received
for continued exertion.

Furthermore, railroad men are very well aware that my illustrations
cannot be looked upon as ancient history. Those on the inside still
hear of strange happenings from day to day. I think a chapter on
narrow escapes would do us railroad men a power of good. It is surely
by taking warning from them that disasters on the rail can be best
avoided.

Not so long ago on a Western railroad, and about the same time on a
New England railroad as well, passenger trains were run for miles _on
the wrong track against the traffic_. This was done in broad daylight,
without orders of any description. The mere possibility of such
occurrences, involving trainmen from brakemen to enginemen, is almost
unthinkable. With such mental and physical paralysis to guard against,
of what avail are block signals or the best intentions of a management?
The popular contention that these things occur only “in spots” is
most harmful. If only he will do a little thinking, any railroad man
in the country can study these so-called “spots” without wandering an
inch from his own job. The accidents that are liable to occur when the
responsibility can be divided between the rules and the management are
as nothing compared to those that we railroad men initiate and blindly
invite of our own accord. With all sincerity and candor I present a
final illustration, not from the past, but from what is positively
taking place at the present day.

As we all know, managers of American railroads have been wrestling
with the “hot-box problem” for nearly half a century. The rules
relating to the matter are and always have been unmistakable. “Take no
chances. If necessary, set off the car.”

On June 17, 1908, a freight train, running fully thirty miles per hour,
approached my signal tower with a clear right of way east-bound. At the
same time an express passenger train, rushing at full speed west-bound,
came in sight. From a distance of nearly half a mile I could see that
a car on the freight train was enveloped in smoke and flame from a hot
box. As an actual fact, the engineman, conductor, and brakemen were
aware of it. A brakeman was on top of the car watching the trouble.
But they were nearing the terminal, and on a parallel east-bound track
there was a train that all hands were very anxious to pass by or
“jump.” So, by common consent, they were taking the chance on the hot
box, and the engineer “had her wide open.” As the freight approached
the tower I could see the chips flying from the ties, which indicated
that the melted journal had snapped in two. A few seconds later both
east- and west-bound tracks were blocked with the twisted rails, broken
ties, and derailed cars. The passenger train, consisting of sleepers
and crowded coaches, escaped dashing into the wreck by a miracle,--that
is, by a mere fraction of time.

This is but an incident in the history of taking chances. Concealed
in it, however, is a personal lesson that vitally concerns every
man in the service. Do we actually insist upon disaster such as
threatened this passenger train before we can be persuaded to come
to our senses? In this business of taking chances, which covers
every branch of railroad service, both the traveling public and the
railroad corporations are at our mercy. Through a long course of years,
influence and discipline of all kinds have utterly failed to check
it. It is useless to talk about “spots,” for most of us take chances
systematically. In fact I don’t think the managements have any idea of
the nature and extent of this evil, for the reason perhaps that they
have made no special study of the subject nor watched for and made note
of illustrations, as I have. One would think it would have occurred to
some railroad manager to issue a general order, with a caption somewhat
as follows: “Here is a list of twenty dangerous chances which some of
you are in the habit of taking. For goodness’ sake, have a care!”

Here, and elsewhere in this volume, it seems to me that it is
demonstrated, beyond possibility of question, that thousands of
lives have been sacrificed by reason of the palpable neglect and
inefficiency of certain railroad employees. It makes not a particle
of difference whether we conclude to call these careless men a
majority, a minority, or a scattered few. Fundamentally it is also
quite a secondary consideration that rules and methods of management
at times can be shown to be partially responsible for accidents that
result from this inefficient service. For the time being also, let us
forget that elsewhere I call attention to the conduct and influence
of the railroad labor organizations as an important factor in the
situation, and to the absolute necessity, under existing conditions, of
governmental interference. Let us put aside all these considerations,
and as thoughtful, well-intentioned railroad men ask ourselves if we
are socially and morally interested in this safety problem on American
railroads. Do we consider the matter important enough to give to it
more than an occasional thought or passing comment? When the lives of
our fellow employees, or of passengers, are sacrificed by reason of
personal forgetfulness or negligence, have we, the principals, or at
least those most nearly concerned in the accidents, any remarks to make
or any suggestions to offer? For the future, as in the past, are we
going to allow this business to drift? Are we all of the same opinion
as the train-master who said to me: “What’s the use of writing up these
matters? We always have had careless men. We can’t expect to get rid
of them altogether. Like the poor, they are with us always.” This man
forgot, as many of us are liable to forget, that “writing up,” as they
call it, is the only known method in modern civilization by means of
which enlightenment and education can be passed around and disseminated.

But let no one imagine that I have any unreasonable expectations
as regards the improvement of conditions on our railroads. I fully
recognize and make allowance for the difficulties connected with the
problem and for the shortcomings of human nature, but at the same time
I insist that if we only open our eyes to our personal responsibilities
in the matter, and pay half as much attention to the public interests
as we do to our own, an astonishing improvement in the service will
immediately result. It is actually a matter of reasonable demonstration
that at least seventy-five per cent of the casualties might be avoided
by increase of interest on the part of the employee, and the earnest
concentration of his best thought on the subject. This awakened
interest, however, must not be a subordinate matter. It must be a
consecration apart from and above all questions of wages, discipline,
or the interests of organized labor. There is no question in my mind
as to the efficacy or wonder-working properties of the personal cure.
The real question is, Are we big enough to undertake the job? If we
continue to avoid the issue, and thus publish the fact that our social
conscience is a blank, we may just as well write ourselves down as the
most self-centred aggregation of individuals in the industrial world.
It is ridiculous to suppose that conditions such as I describe in this
book can be permitted to continue much longer. Sooner or later public
opinion will be called upon to define, with no uncertain emphasis, just
how far our private rights can be permitted to infringe upon our public
duties.

But while our apathy in these matters must be evident to any thoughtful
man, it will certainly add to the impressiveness of the situation
if it can be shown that our conduct differs from, and is altogether
less praiseworthy than that of other men and other organizations,
under very similar conditions. Is it not remarkable that all over the
United States, business and scientific associations should be actively
bestirring themselves in regard to the railroad accidents?

The railroad labor organization alone is inactive and silent in the
matter. The railroad business is a profession, in the operation of
which there are certain features that threaten the public welfare. The
business of a doctor or a surgeon is also a profession, in which there
are many dangers and difficulties that also relate to the public health
and safety. There is actually no more reason why surgeons should come
together and consult for the good of humanity and the honor of their
profession, than there is for railroad men to do so. As a matter of
fact, every profession on earth is jealous of its good name, and plans
early and late for the improvement of the service it is called upon
to render to the public. In my opinion railroad men should be equally
sensitive to the call of the social conscience.

Of course the discussion of these matters relating to the personality
of railroad men, to be of any practical value, must be followed by
action or experiment of some kind. Years ago, I proposed to the
managements of several railroads that we, the men in the operating
departments, should be invited to form a “Safety League.” I thought
it would be a good idea to have a badge or button of some kind. There
would then be no doubt in the public mind as to our interest in the
problem. “Let us try the experiment,” I said. “We can at least show
that there is one division of one railroad in the United States
where the men have come together, talked over the difficulties, and
determined to make an improvement in the records.”

But it was pointed out to me that the one great objection to the plan
was the fact that leaders of our organizations would immediately veto
anything of the kind. They have always frowned upon any such democratic
relationship between men and management, such as a Safety League would
initiate. It is doubtful, however, if these objections would stand a
little public investigation and pressure, and therefore I think the
present is an opportune moment to revive the proposition. There would
be no chance for friction between labor men and management in the
efforts of the League to improve the service. The main object of the
League would be to arouse our interest and concentrate our attention
upon the routine of our daily work, into which certain factors that
imperil the safety of travel have been allowed to enter. We railroad
men are still too human to render the best service without a certain
amount of emulation and encouragement. A Safety League could be
depended upon to furnish this much-needed stimulus. If managers and
labor leaders would come out in the open, in the way I have indicated,
and let the public see by this practical demonstration of their
interest that they are thoroughly in earnest, I am sure they would find
the employees ready and willing to second their efforts. That a Safety
League among American railroad men would be worth the candle can be
thoroughly comprehended if we give a moment’s attention to the endless
string of fatalities and the millions in money losses that are now the
recognized tribute that is being paid to these failures in duty.

For the rest, to the thoughtful railroad man, a final word remains to
be said:--

In any comprehensive study of efficiency, prosperity is one of the
most important factors to be considered. There is always an intimate
relationship between struggle and efficiency. The general rule is
from shirt-sleeves to shirt-sleeves, with prosperity as the halfway
house. In all manner of human affairs it takes high moral exertion
to stave off this fate. In the railroad business to-day the marked
prosperity and power, political and otherwise, of the employee, is a
positive menace to the safety of travel, on account of the lack of the
moral safeguards to which I refer. This statement should not have an
irritating effect upon railroad men; it should stimulate thought. The
significance of the above conclusion is emphasized, from the fact that
our labor leaders appear to be utterly unmindful of “the writing on the
wall.” With shorter runs, increase of pay, larger personal privileges
in every direction, and an ever-widening sphere of power and influence,
a corresponding enlargement of our appreciation of our social and moral
responsibilities is absolutely essential.

It is obvious, therefore, that the safety problem in regard to
preventable accidents must depend to a great extent upon the thought
which we are now willing to devote to it. What the managements of
corporations and the public can do about it without our assistance can
be judged from what they have been able to accomplish in the past.
Up to date we railroad men have permitted our leaders to do all our
thinking for us. This arises from the fact that we have never thought
about or desired anything but material advantages; consequently labor
leaders to-day are only too often a reflection of our material desires
and of our lack of social responsibility. These men are good, bad, or
indifferent, according to the returns we receive from them in cash. In
this way they have been uniformly faithful to our interests. But we
must not forget that we railroad men, millions of us, are part of the
democratic fabric of the nation, and no democracy can possibly flourish
upon purely materialistic principles.

The matters to which I direct attention in this volume call for the
serious thought of employees, and let us take for our inspiration the
truth that the democratic idea of government is itself founded upon the
hope that every man will do his own thinking.



II

THE MEN


Money, brains, and intelligent labor form the combination that is
attempting to solve the problem of safe and expeditious transportation
on American railroads. In order to secure the desired result no
expenditure, either of effort or of treasure, is considered too
extravagant. So far as concerns speed and comfort, the conditions at
the present day leave little to be asked for; but when we come to take
account of the human lives that have paid toll to American systems of
railroading, we cannot avoid the conclusion that something must be
fundamentally wrong in the methods of handling the traffic.

To account for the unsatisfactory state of affairs, there are various
popular excuses and explanations. Discussions in regard to block
signals, tired employees, faulty rules, and so forth, are seemingly as
endless as, up to date, they have proved fruitless. For the most part
these discussions are being carried on by professors and students of
economic conditions and by clever collectors of statistics, but the men
who know all the details of railroad life, the men who pull the signals
and handle the trains that are concerned in the trouble, have yet to
be heard from.

[Illustration: A HEAD-ON COLLISION]

However, regardless of the nature or value of the discussion, the fact
remains that we railroad men still continue in the same blind rut,
and there is no perceptible improvement in efficiency. Managers and
superintendents appear to be helpless in the matter. They are evidently
unable to stem the tide of preventable casualties.

The story of one accident is the story of them all. There is a
smash-up. Property is destroyed, perhaps passengers are hurt. The
superintendent at once starts an investigation. It is practically
secret. Not a word in regard to it is allowed to leak out. After a
while a decision is arrived at and a verdict is rendered,--in secret.
Then discipline is administered. A private communication containing
verdict and penalty is sent to the accused party. This, of course, he
keeps to himself, and the incident is closed.

But before long another employee, in utter ignorance of the first man’s
blunder, commits the same mistake. Both of these wrecks may have been
serious, perhaps with loss of life, but that makes no difference. Our
traditions and ancient habits have not been interfered with and the
bills have been paid. Such is discipline in the dark. Great, indeed, is
secrecy.

Yet it is useless to question either the ability or the integrity
of superintendents. As a rule they have risen from the ranks, and
are thoroughly capable and conscientious. Every avoidable accident
is a reflection on their management, and therefore it can be taken
for granted that they render the best service possible under the
circumstances. But unfortunately they are beset on all sides with
obstacles and difficulties. What they would like to do, even in the
matter of secrecy and discipline, must frequently wait upon what they
are able to do. Time was when an offending employee could be discharged
on the spot, without appeal. To-day he claims a hearing. A brother
employee, an expert on railroad law and precedent, stands at his elbow
as prompter and assistant. In this way, as we railroad men figure it
out, the “law’s delay” puts a curb on the “insolence of office.” Thus
the initiative of a superintendent is held in restraint, and management
by means of schedules and agreements takes the place of personal
direction, while over all hovers the watchful eye of the grievance
committee. Meanwhile, we, the employees, look on, watching the game.

When people are killed, when property is wrecked, we have nothing to
say. It is for the management to figure out reasons and remedies. Of
course, as individuals, we are interested and sorry when accidents
happen, but personally we do not bestir ourselves, nor do we call
upon our organizations to bestir themselves in the matter. We simply
stand pat on our rights. If a prominent railroad man is questioned
on the subject of railroad accidents, he will shrug his shoulders
and say, “Human nature.” So far as he is concerned, railroad men are
to be protected, not criticised. If you turn to the management your
errand will be equally fruitless. The superintendent will have little
to say. Generally speaking, he has no fault to find with the men,
and the men have little fault to find with him. This seems to be a
tacit understanding in the interests of harmony. It being impossible
to move without treading on somebody’s toes, by all means let us
remain motionless. As for the public interests, they must shift for
themselves. Consequently, in place of earnest coöperation in the
interests of efficiency and improved service, there is something in the
nature of a friendly deadlock between men and management.

Nevertheless, in spite of many appearances to the contrary, the problem
of the efficient and safe running of trains is a very simple one.
Fundamentally it is not a question of rules or safety devices, but of
personal conduct and habits of thought.

In everyday life when a man fails to make a satisfactory score with a
first-class gun we do not place the blame on the weapon. If we desire
greater efficiency in marksmanship we direct our attention to the man.
But in the railroad business such commonplace logic does not seem to
apply. When a man violates an unmistakable rule or runs a signal with
disastrous results, there immediately arises on all sides a peremptory
demand for a different kind of rule or an improved signal. Public
opinion, with little understanding of the issues at stake, has a
constant tendency to blame systems and managements. Even the Railroad
Commissioners, agreeing with or responsive to this public sentiment,
almost invariably recommend improvements along these lines. In this way
for many years attention has been concentrated upon the machinery of
management, its rules and safety appliances, and the personality of the
men has been side-tracked. The injurious effects of this policy and the
manner in which all hands have conspired to obliterate personality from
the railroad business will be evident from the following illustration.

A short time ago, in the vicinity of Boston, an express train
telescoped an accommodation passenger train. The track in question was
protected by no less than four cautionary rules and signals. In this
way the express train received four distinct and emphatic intimations
that a train was on the block ahead of it. With the slightest attention
to the rules or to the dictates of common sense, the protection was
sufficient, yet the train ahead was telescoped as it was pulling out
of a station. Of course, in placing the responsibility, the plain and
real issue in this case was the question whether the express train was
or was not running slowly and with extreme caution, as called for by
the rules. In order to determine whether the rules and signals were
sufficient to prevent a collision, it was surely proper and reasonable
to ascertain whether, on this occasion, they were obeyed. But the
Railroad Commissioners, after an exhaustive investigation, took a
different view of the matter. Their finding or verdict in their own
words was as follows:--

“It is not necessary to determine whether the engineman did or did not
exercise proper caution; the significant fact is that the discretion
actually used led to disastrous results. Under the conditions the
signal should have been _red_.”

The harmfulness of this decision will at once be apparent. It cuts the
personality out of the business at points where obedience to the rules
is the vital issue. Green signals or red signals are equally valueless
if ducks and drakes can be played with the rules in regard to them. A
decision like this one is confusing and demoralizing to conscientious
railroad men, and it converts the management and discipline of a
railroad into a thing of shreds and patches.

To emphasize this point, it should be added that another collision of
a similar nature took place about the same time on the same railroad.
An express passenger train approached a fixed signal which indicated
_caution_. The engineman, on the lookout, but with the caution up his
sleeve, kept on his way without any reduction in speed. A moment later
he encountered a red fusee which called for an absolute stop, but it
was too late. Neither the fusee nor the flagman frantically waving his
red flag availed to arrest the momentum of the flyer, which dashed into
the rear of another passenger train standing at a station.

Now, with all deference to the Railroad Commissioners, the “significant
facts” in these accidents are the personal conduct of the employees and
not the nature of the signals or the wording of the rules.

Of course, taking a wider view of preventable accidents, it is always
an easy matter to divide the responsibility for them between the men
and the management. This is the usual and popular method of treating
the subject. But the idea, reasonable at times, has been overworked,
and has now degenerated into a principle that responsibility should
always be divided. Consequently, while we are busy adjusting the
division, we frequently lose sight of the real issues, and the
offenders are allowed to escape.

Fundamentally, then, it must be confessed, we railroad men are to blame
for these preventable accidents. Most of the trouble can be directly
traced to our own personal behavior, that is to say, to our conduct and
habits of thought as railroad men. This is by no means a reflection
on our character as sympathetic and reasonable human beings. Our
intentions are all right, but our training in the railroad business has
been all wrong.

But it is of little use to talk or write about personality in the
abstract. As practical men dealing with a practical topic, we must
follow the railroad man out on the road, we must watch him at his work,
and we must take notice of the common sense, the caution, and the good
judgment or otherwise, which he habitually displays in the execution of
his duties. Then, and not until then, can we expect to become qualified
to place our opinions or conclusions on record.

Now the regulations relating to the running and protection of trains
are very similar on all railroads, and therefore the following rule
taken from one of our current working time-tables may be looked upon as
thoroughly representative.

“A freight train must not leave a station to follow a passenger train
until five minutes after the departure of said passenger train.”

To any ordinary thinker this rule will appear to be plain, positive,
and for the most part necessary. Yet as a matter of fact no attention
whatever is paid to it either by enginemen, by conductors, or for
that matter by superintendents. Its violation has been the cause of
collisions and loss of life, but that does not seem to bother us, for
we continue to disregard it. Let us take another illustration.

At the point where the writer has been employed for many years, there
is a junction of four-track and two-track systems. The rule for the
handling of trains at this point is as follows:--

“All trains will approach and enter upon four-track sections under
complete control.”

There is nothing misleading or uncertain about this rule. The
instructions to enginemen are positive. The towermen at these points
understand how necessary and important this rule is. Besides, it is
the written result of the experience of the officials. Nevertheless,
it is totally and consistently ignored by enginemen. But enginemen
are not alone to blame. Conductors should at least be conversant with
the rules. The railroad officials who ride on these trains might
also very reasonably be expected to notice the persistent violation
of regulations for which they themselves are responsible. Yet even
the trains bearing the Railroad Commissioners will rush over the
territory in question as fast as the wheels can turn. The conditions
and the rules in this case are practically the same as were those at
Salisbury, England, at the time of the recent disaster in that city.

Now as it seems to me, the all-important facts in these cases do not
relate to the nature of the rules, nor even to their non-enforcement,
but to the downright neglect of railroad men to do as they are told.
For, granted observance of them, all other questions in regard to the
rules dissolve into thin air.

Unfortunately, the rules I have quoted and the interpretation put upon
them by railroad men cannot be taken as examples standing alone, for
they are merely illustrations of a principle that covers the whole
cautionary field in our railroads. In some way we have got it into
our heads that these rules are _permissive_, not _positive_. This
permissive principle means the exercise of our own judgment according
to circumstances, regardless of the rule. Acting under the influence
of this principle, the flagman protects his train to the very letter
of the rule when it is manifestly necessary, but when, in his opinion,
it is not, he takes chances. In this way he forms a habit of using his
own judgment in regard to a positive rule. Sooner or later this means a
preventable accident.

The engineman encounters a single torpedo. According to his rules,
he should bring his train to a full stop. But as he happens to have
a clear track for a mile ahead of him he keeps on. He, too, forms a
habit which has to be reckoned with some day.

Again, all trainmen understand that an express train has no business
to run past a station while accommodation trains are discharging
passengers. It is by no means an uncommon occurrence, however, to see
an express train disregard these positive instructions, on the strength
of hand motions given by trainmen on the accommodation train to the
effect that they are about to start, and that the way is safe and clear
for the flyer. Yet in this manner accidents happen, and passengers from
the accommodation are always likely to be caught in a trap between the
trains.

But the dangerous and widespread effects of the permissive principle
applied to important rules will be appreciated to the full when we
study the interpretation which railroad men in general are in the habit
of applying to the word _caution_.

On all railroads there are certain fixed signals for the guidance and
information of employees. When caution is called for, the light is
usually green and the semaphore horizontal. Now, as the writer looks at
it, when any signal indicates _caution_, it is not to be looked upon
as a permissive or conditional signal to be interpreted at will by
different enginemen. According to the rules and to common sense when a
train, at the time a cautionary signal is sighted, is running thirty
or forty miles an hour, it calls for a positive and not a theoretical
reduction in speed. The cautionary signal is not merely a piece of
information to be stowed away in the brain of the enginemen, to be
utilized when a rear end or a broken rail is sighted.

Although for a number of years the inflexible enforcement of the rules
relating to these cautionary signals has been advocated, yet to-day
train after train will run past these semaphores and green lights
without any reduction in speed, provided the track ahead of them is
seen to be clear.

Here we tackle the very heart of the matter, for in so far as the
rules and common sense are concerned, it should not make a particle of
difference to the engineman whether the track ahead is or is not known
to be clear of trains; his instructions call for cautious running,
and by no possible interpretation or juggling with words can cautious
running, or running under control, be taken to mean running at full
speed. Yet in the way I have indicated the cancer of a very dangerous
habit has been allowed to grow into the American system of managing
trains. This wrong interpretation of the word _caution_ by enginemen
and others has without a shadow of doubt during the past few years cost
the corporations thousands upon thousands of dollars and multitudes of
human lives. For if railroad managers labor under the delusion that
enginemen can run _cautiously at full speed_ when the track is clear,
and avoid disaster when from unforeseen reasons another train happens
to be on the same section, they are very much mistaken.

Practically speaking, then, the permissive principle covers the whole
field of railroad life, and is a constant menace alike to the interests
of the corporations and to those of the traveling public. As a matter
of fact, we, the employees, are bigger than the rules. According to our
way of thinking, it is not alone necessary that a rule should be plain
and sound from a general standpoint, but its downright meaning and
necessity must also be evident in each and every particular instance.
If it fails to stand this test, we consider ourselves at liberty to use
our judgment in regard to it.

Illustrations of the danger that lurks in this permissive principle can
be multiplied indefinitely. But, after all, it is only a link in the
chain, for there are other features in the personality of railroad men
that call for serious attention.

The other day, within a few miles of Boston, an express passenger
train approached a railroad crossing at grade. For some reason the
gate-tender was negligent and failed to lower the gates. By reason
of just such negligence, teams are frequently struck and lives are
lost at these crossings. On all railroads, the rules are quite plain
and unmistakable in regard to such matters. It is the duty of the
engineman to report the incident to the management. As a matter of
fact on this particular occasion the engineman failed to do so. He
failed to appreciate the fact that the safety of the public at these
crossings is altogether dependent upon the strict observance of the
rules. He had scruples and emotional objections, perhaps, to reporting
this gate-tender, and rather than do so he took all the chances in
connection therewith, chief among which is the simple fact that on a
railroad unchecked negligence can be depended upon to breed disaster.

That railroad men in general are either indifferent to or ignorant
of the importance of the above fundamental fact will be made still
clearer by another illustration. On September 16, 1907, that is, on
the day following the disaster at West Canaan, N. H., the writer was
a witness of the violation of two most important rules by a number of
enginemen, conductors, and brakemen. A switch leading from the west- to
the east-bound main line was left open while an express passenger train
was passing inward bound. A freight train was on the west-bound track
waiting to back over. Two minutes later, _with his train only halfway
in to clear the main line_, the engineman on the freight whistled in
his flagman in the face of an accommodation passenger train which
had followed the express. From beginning to end, on the permissive
principle, it was a perfectly safe transaction, for there was a mile of
straight track in both directions; but the rules for the running of the
trains and for the safety of the public were violated. The witnesses
were seven or eight veteran railroad men, who looked upon the affair
as perfectly proper and justifiable under the circumstances. It never
entered the heads of these men that the affair should be reported to
the management. That some of the best men in the service should behave
in this way, as it were in the very shadow of the accident at West
Canaan, is almost inconceivable. Of course, if these incidents stood
by themselves their significance might be comparatively trifling; but
as a matter of fact they are illustrations of a condition which is
thoroughly typical of American railroads. This condition or situation
may be briefly yet correctly outlined as follows:--

There is practically _no out-on-the-road supervision_ on American
railroads.

Railroad managers depend upon the reports of employees for information
in regard to violations of rules. But employees do not, and cannot be
compelled to, report their associates; consequently negligence of all
kinds is practically unchecked.

Finally: unchecked negligence can be shown to be the root and direct
cause of nearly all preventable accidents, and loss of life therefrom,
on American railroads.

Here we have a conclusion worth looking into. At a glance we perceive
that negligence is the prime and fundamental fact. It is the direct
cause of the trouble. The fact that the negligence is _unchecked_ is
important, yet secondary. It should be treated as a separate issue, and
it must stand or fall on its own merits.

But our conclusion that accidents result in almost all cases from
unchecked negligence should be supported by evidence and proof. For
examples in support of it, let us take two of the most disastrous
wrecks in the history of New England railroads.

On November 26, 1905, at Baker Bridge in Lincoln, Mass., seventeen
people were killed and thirty injured. An express passenger train was
following an accommodation train, which was somewhat late. Cautionary
signals calling for reduced speed and careful running were passed
at intervals by the express train, but, according to the evidence,
the engineman paid no attention to them; hence the accident. Now the
habitual negligence in regard to these cautionary signals was a matter
of common knowledge. In fact, attention was called to the matter both
before and after the accident by the writer. The unchecked negligence
in this particular case was therefore directly responsible for the
accident and the loss of life.

Again, on September 15, 1907, at West Canaan, N. H., twenty-five people
were killed and forty injured. The unchecked negligence in this case
is by no means so striking as in the previous example, and yet the
evidence pointing in that direction is quite as significant. A mistake
occurred in the transmission of an important train order. This mistake
was the direct cause of the accident. For various reasons it was
impossible to say by whom the mistake was made.

Now let us turn to our book of rules and take note of the following
instructions to train dispatchers and operators: “In transmitting
messages write slowly and firmly,” etc.

With all proper consideration for hard-worked and conscientious train
dispatchers, I am compelled to confess that train orders are seldom
if ever sent “slowly and firmly.” Operators will bear me out in the
statement that orders are transmitted by dispatchers as fast as the men
can handle them. That is to say, between veterans in the business they
are rattled off at the highest limit of speed. The men concerned in the
accident at West Canaan were veterans. Had the man at West Canaan been
a “plug,” that is, a green hand, in all probability the accident would
not have occurred. While, of course, this is merely a supposition,
yet the fact remains that the men would have been transmitting _slowly
and firmly, and the chances for a mistake would have been reduced to a
minimum_.

I thoroughly understand and appreciate the difficulties with which the
train dispatcher has to contend. I am quite aware that he is called
upon to handle trains with the utmost dispatch; nevertheless, I insist
that, in order to reduce chances of accident to a minimum, train orders
should in all cases be transmitted slowly and firmly. I stand by the
rules. The issue is between speed and safety, and in all cases the
latter should be given the right of way.

Thoughtful railroad men, who understand the situation on the railroads
at the present day, are yet very slow in suggesting remedies. They say,
“It is up to the management to enforce the rules.” On the other hand,
if a superintendent can be persuaded to express an opinion he will
retort, “It is up to the men to obey the rules. They are plain enough
and sufficient for the purpose, but we cannot station a spy at every
switch to make sure that the rules are obeyed. We have to depend on the
personality and general intelligence of our employees.”

It will, I think, be evident from the facts and conditions that we
have been considering, that whatever secondary causes there may be
for preventable railroad accidents, the trainmen themselves hold the
key to the situation. They are at liberty to obey the rules, and thus
solve the problem in the only way in which it ever can be solved; or,
they can continue to place upon these rules a wrong interpretation, and
thus evade their manifest meaning and purpose. As matters stand to-day
between labor organizations and railroad managers, it is very doubtful
if by any practical system of supervision or discipline the rules for
the safe and efficient running of trains can in all cases and at all
times be adequately enforced. Thus the whole business resolves itself
into a personal matter with us as conscientious railroad men. Singly
and collectively, it is up to us to do the square thing, if necessary,
in spite of the management.

As the case stands to-day, we railroad men are in a class by ourselves.
We are well-paid, well-treated, well-educated, and well-organized.
In all that pertains to our material well-being we compare more
than favorably with any other class of workers in the country; but
considered as responsible individuals intrusted with the care of
railroad property and the safety of the traveling public, our records
are very unsatisfactory. The truth of this conclusion is not open to
question. We cannot escape from the statistics and the figures; and,
day by day, the evidence against us continues to accumulate.

There are many people who think that the intelligence and education
of the twentieth-century railroad man can be depended upon to guard
against the shortcomings to which I have called attention. On the
contrary, I am inclined to think that the intellectual independence
of the railroad men is in itself a danger to be guarded against.
Standing by itself, the statement that knowledge is power is a fallacy.
Knowledge is only a means. Its benefit to any one is always an open
question. In other words, the secret of power is in the application
of knowledge. Thus when we analyze a modern railroad accident we
are forced to the conclusion that many railroad men take chances by
reason of the supreme confidence which they possess in their own
cleverness and ability to deal with an emergency, however sudden.
This resourceful characteristic of Americans is a splendid thing from
a general standpoint, but in the railroad business it has its stern
limitations. Only too many of our accidents are illustrations, not of
lack of knowledge or resource, but of the downright misapplication of
these intellectual features. In some cases we find an over-supply of
self-confidence, in others a disinclination to knuckle right down to
the observance of plain and positive instruction. In such cases a man
cannot be called the fortunate possessor of intellectual advantages,
but their manifest victim.

Railroad managers, therefore, sooner or later will come to understand
that the one thing needed in the railroad business at the present
day is to educate employees to appreciate the fact that successful
and safe railroading in the future will have to depend, not upon the
multiplication of safety devices or the reconstruction of rules, but
upon the personal effort and conduct of conscientious, alert, and
careful men.

Meanwhile, thought counts; and it is a good idea for practical railroad
men to look into and study these problems, each according to his
ability and the light that is in him.



III

THE MANAGEMENT


The problem of safety in railroad travel has been discussed, from
widely different points of view, by many conscientious investigators.
The methods of these writers in marshaling facts and drawing
conclusions are usually identical. The formula consists of a variety of
accidents, a variety of causes, and a variety of possible or proposed
remedies. For results, up to date, we have a library of information,
but not a suspicion of improvement, in the record of preventable
fatalities. Meanwhile, in the public mind there is confusion of
ideas and considerable doubt as to the practical outcome of all this
discussion. This is a natural state of affairs, for the reason that the
only factor in the situation which is constant, and about which there
is no difference of opinion, is the impotency of railroad people in
coping with the difficulties.

Now, after all that has been spoken and written on the subject of
efficient and safe railroad service, the problem remains, as at the
beginning, essentially personal, social, and ethical in its nature.
Nearly all questions in regard to it must, sooner or later, be thought
out in this direction by railroad employees and managers. We may
continue to work over and reconstruct our rules and to multiply our
safety devices until we compel trains to creep from station to station;
yet the problem will remain unsolved, the needless and disgraceful
sacrifice of life will continue, until trainmen, enginemen, and
managers put their heads together and agree to adopt a new code of
railroad morals. My meaning when I allude to railroad morals should be
clearly understood.

On nearly all railroads a given rule is obeyed at one point and
disregarded at another, on account of different sets of conditions.
This conduct leads to accidents when men who have habitually disobeyed
the regulations at points where such action is harmless undertake to
behave in the same way under conditions when a strict observance of the
rules is vitally important. Generally speaking, managers are cognizant
of this state of affairs, and thus in a measure they are morally to
blame for it; but I do not think that they realize the extent of the
evil, for the reason that any organized out-of-door supervision is
unknown, and thus the report of an accident, that is to say, the result
of these practices, is usually the first and only information on the
subject that reaches the manager’s office. The blame for accidents
that happen in this way cannot be said to rest upon any particular
class of employees or to depend upon their intelligence or length of
service. Among the culprits you will find some of the oldest and most
experienced men as well as some of the greenest. This goes to show that
the trouble is inherent in the system, and a part of the everyday life
and character of armies of railroad men.

But in a straightforward investigation of this nature it is
particularly desirable to get hold of all the facts that can be used
in any way to throw light on the situation, and there is only one
method, as yet untried, for properly securing and emphasizing these
facts. Let us call this the confessional method. In the hands of a
competent witness it can be depended upon to furnish us with all the
information necessary for a thorough comprehension of our subject.
This confessional method has nothing to conceal. It has no axe to
grind, no interests to protect. It is born of a heartfelt appreciation
of the seriousness of the situation on our railroads. Mindful of the
ever-increasing and lamentable loss of life caused by the unstudied
indifference and negligence of employees, as well as by the blindness
of the authorities to the real issues and dangers, it approaches
and takes hold of the problem somewhat in the spirit of the King in
“Hamlet,” when in an agony of remorseful retrospection he exclaimed,
“Try what repentance can: what can it not?”

That there is an urgent call for this confessional method of supplying
the facts in this railroad business is capable of easy demonstration.
When an accident takes place on a railroad, some kind of an explanation
or reason for its occurrence is immediately called for. Consequently
there is a lining up of opposing interests. A certain management has to
be vindicated, certain employees to be defended. In the investigation
that follows, an array of facts defensive and otherwise is brought
forward in the interests of the opposing parties; but evidence and
facts that are likely to reflect on both men and management, and
perhaps on the handling of the case or of other cases by the Board of
Railroad Commissioners, are studiously avoided. The facts that are
suppressed in this way usually contain the heart of the whole business,
and are the very points in which the public is profoundly interested.
An illustration in point will make this doubly clear.

About a year ago, in an accident near Troy, N. Y., five passengers
were killed and many were injured. A special passenger train crashed
into the rear of a regular passenger train. There is a sharp curve in
the track a short distance above the scene of the collision. Had the
special been handled carefully round this curve instead of recklessly,
the accident would not have occurred. Caution, of course, is necessary
in running round sharp curves, and the rules on all railroads are plain
and emphatic on the subject. But the authorities who investigated this
accident treated it as an isolated instance of individual carelessness.
Within a period of six months these gentlemen are called upon to pass
judgment on probably twenty wrecks, every one of them bearing the same
earmarks of disobedience as this disaster near Troy, yet no one ever
dreams of hunting up a common cause for dozens of accidents that are
exactly similar and brought about in the same way. To be precise, this
accident at Troy was the result of a habit. At a glance we perceive
that the public is a hundred times more likely to be interested in
the uprooting of such a bad habit as running recklessly round curves
than it is in placing the responsibility or punishing the offender in
any particular instance. Yet who ever heard of a verdict that placed
the blame for an accident on a habit? The reasons for the oversight
are obvious. A dangerous habit, long continued and unchecked, is a
decided reflection on men and management, and, indeed, on the Railroad
Commissioners, whose vigilance it has escaped; and consequently no
evidence or facts in regard to these bad habits are ever permitted to
find their way into investigations. It will be evident, therefore, that
the confessional method can be profitably employed in supplying a few
missing links in our knowledge of actual conditions and methods of
operation on the railroads.

To begin with, it will be well to take note of an estimate, made after
a careful study of the figures, that fully eighty-five per cent of the
fatalities that occur on our railroads can be directly traced to the
negligence of employees. Regardless of the accuracy of this estimate,
it certainly points to a very serious state of affairs. In studying
the nature of these accidents and the conditions under which they take
place, one cannot help being impressed with the fact that almost every
possible way in which trouble can occur on a railroad is foreseen
and provided for by some rule or safety device. So carefully has the
ground been studied and worked over, that in every case of preventable
accident it can almost be taken for granted that an employee is to
blame. That is to say, the management of a railroad is always found
to be impregnably protected by the rules and regulations from any
direct responsibility. But, after all, this is only one side of the
shield, for clearly the moral responsibility of a railroad manager
cannot be said to cease with the printing of a batch of rules or the
erection of a system of signals. It is not only necessary that rules
should be plain and sufficient in themselves to prevent accidents,
it is also equally essential that reasonable and systematic efforts
should be exerted to enforce them. On a railroad, as elsewhere, the
means employed for the supervision of personal conduct and for the
enforcement of necessary rules are all included in the term discipline.
Without some organized and effective system of discipline no industrial
establishment of any kind can be successfully administered. On
railroads in particular, the department of discipline is intimately
related to the interests of the traveling public. Let us then examine
in a practical manner the nature and methods of the discipline that
is in force at the present day on what may be considered the most
important railroad in New England. A little personal experience will
throw the necessary light on the subject.

[Illustration: A YARD WRECK]

Some time ago, happening to notice that important regulations were
being habitually ignored by a certain class of employees, the writer
called the attention of the management to the matter. In this way, from
time to time, many cases of simple negligence, which had no serious
consequences, were reported to superintendents. Thinking it all over,
the writer finally became anxious to find out just what disposition was
made of these reports. For it must be apparent to any thinking person
that the practical value of any system of discipline must always depend
upon the efforts that are put forth and the success that is achieved
in checking and in preventing the repetition of these instances of
what may be called trouble in the bud. The reports to which I refer
were acknowledged by the management, and there the matter ended. But
as I happened to be studying the subject at the time in a systematic
manner, I was by no means satisfied with this abrupt conclusion. So I
made an investigation on my own account, and easily discovered that
practically all other interested employees were unaware of and had not
been notified in regard to the violation of these rules because, as the
men explained, nothing had happened. That is to say, it was necessary
to hurt somebody or smash up a few carloads of freight before any
efforts could be exerted according to the rules to put a stop to the
negligence. This became very clear to me, when, upon making further
inquiries, I was informed that the men had been disciplined to the full
extent of the rules. Now my object in the investigation was not to get
at the nature or the amount of the discipline, but simply to be able to
arrive at an estimate of its value in checking and restraining others
from committing similar mistakes. In this way I soon arrived at the
conclusion that a system of discipline that works in the dark in this
way is of no practical value whatever. It is a weakness of management,
which positively undermines the operating department and leads the way
to all sorts of disaster and loss of life. Its continued existence in
practical railroad management is a standing menace to the safety of the
traveling public. As a matter of fact, lives are still being frequently
sacrificed and much property is almost daily being destroyed as direct
tribute to this incomprehensible system of discipline.

The exact method by which this system is put into operation, and the
regulations which govern employees in regard to it, will be understood
from the following extracts from general orders on the subject, issued
by what is sometimes considered one of the best-managed railroads in
the country:--

“The System of Discipline by Record having proved beneficial both to
the road and to employees, it has been decided to extend the same by
the addition of merit marks....

“Each employee will be promptly notified of unfavorable entries made
in the record book opposite his name. He will upon request be shown
his record at any time, but will not be permitted to see the record of
another person.

“_Bulletins, omitting name, date, train, and location_, but containing
facts and conclusions and such comment as is applicable, will be issued
from time to time if considered necessary.”

The significance of this general order to employees should be
thoroughly understood. Practically interpreted, it means that when an
employee commits a mistake or is guilty of negligence that endangers
life and property, the affair is to be looked upon as a secret. This
interpretation is correct according to the actual operation of the
system on the railroads. Neither in the interests of the public safety
nor for any other reason can the facts in the case, as regards date,
name, location, and train, be utilized or published for the prevention
of future accidents of a similar nature. This is the law of the road,
and while it remains in force any employee can claim the full benefit
of its provisions. The practical illustration in my own experience
given above is fully explained and accounted for by this general order.
But the most astonishing feature in relation to it is that with the
records before us it should continue to be considered and heralded as
“beneficial” either to the railroads or the employees, not to mention
the public. For a full explanation of this peculiar state of affairs we
must turn to another quarter.

It is a well-known fact that the American railroad man, the trainman
and engineman in particular, has deep-rooted objections to being
“posted” in any way. We have consistently emphasized our objections
from the time, years ago, when our likes and dislikes first began to
cut a figure in the plans of the management. So to-day we are prepared
to go to almost any extreme rather than submit to any system of
discipline that will publish our mistakes and advertise us personally
by name as examples, even although such action can be shown to be
absolutely indispensable for the proper safeguarding of life and
property. With all the facts against us, we think we can be trusted
to render the best service and to live up to the rules without the
assistance of publicity in any form. We consider discipline to be a
private matter, to be settled between ourselves and the management;
and thus the workings of the system have been arranged without any
reference whatever to its effect on the interests of the millions of
people whose lives are placed in jeopardy by its arrangements. As a
matter of fact, then, the system of discipline which I have described
is the result of long-continued pressure and consequent concessions
by the management to the demands of employees. These concessions have
been granted for the most part in the interests of harmony. What the
exact nature of this force or pressure is, which, acting on behalf of
railroad employees, has been able to influence railroad legislation and
management to the total exclusion of the public interests, calls for
the closest investigation.

A short time ago, in a report issued by the New York, New Haven and
Hartford Railroad, President Mellen stated that so far as his system
of roads was concerned, increase of pay had invariably been followed
by decreased efficiency. Mr. Mellen, of course, has the reports and the
figures to substantiate his opinion. The statement is plain enough,
although its meaning is somewhat obscure. That decrease in efficiency
has been the natural sequence and effect of higher wages, or that men
lose interest in their callings or grow more careless in their habits
with every addition to their material prosperity, is manifestly absurd.
Mr. Mellen has not informed us that he looks upon the matter in this
light, although his words may reasonably be considered to bear some
such interpretation. Be this as it may, he certainly calls attention
to a very uncomfortable coincidence. In effect Mr. Mellen’s words
may be taken as a direct challenge to railroad men to come forward
and explain a state of affairs that has the appearance of being very
much to their discredit. The implied challenge can be immediately
and concisely replied to in this way. The efficiency of the service
rendered by employees to the New Haven road has by no means been
impaired or decreased by any consideration of wages whatsoever.
Nevertheless, the power or pressure that induced Mr. Mellen and
other railroad managers to add large sums to their pay-rolls is also
responsible, by the exercise of its influence in other directions, for
the decreased efficiency. _Increase of pay and decrease of efficiency
are both indications of loss of grip by the management._ Hidden away
in this simple statement there is a whole world of significance. Here
are fundamental facts, from a fearless consideration of which we shall
be able to derive a logical and clean-cut explanation of the present
situation on American railroads.

The force or influence to which I call attention is of course the
Railroad Labor Organization. But it should be clearly understood
that my conclusions in regard to these unions are not to be taken as
a reflection on their character and work while acting in legitimate
channels. The debt we railroad men owe to our organizations admits
no question. The beneficial results are before us in almost every
department of the railroad business. They have established a fraternal
feeling among us. On all sides they have aroused a spirit of mutual
helpfulness. They have also succeeded in advancing wages, and in this
way contributed to the comfort and prosperity of almost every man
in the service. Furthermore, they have been particularly active in
inciting legislation for the protection of life and limb among workers.
These facts must not be forgotten or minimized, for they are worthy
of all commendation. But in this matter of the personal conduct and
efficiency of railroad men in relation to these terrible railroad
accidents, we have first of all to consider the paramount interests of
society; and while humanity has no quarrel with the unions while they
attend to their legitimate business, it certainly can be said to have
a grievance against them that calls for prompt attention and remedy.
This grievance consists in the fact that, for a great many years, the
influence of the railroad labor organizations has been consistently
exerted, not only to raise wages and to improve conditions, which
of course is perfectly proper and justifiable, but also to nullify
discipline, to destroy personal management and authority, and to
obliterate from all schedules and working agreements any reference to
or consideration for the paramount interests of the traveling public.
It is not necessary to quote paragraphs from these agreements, which
for the most part are secret documents. Given two angles of a triangle,
it is an easy matter to calculate the dimensions of the third.
Similarly, given the actual conduct of the men and the behavior of the
management in relation to it, we can derive very accurate conclusions
in regard to the work and power of the organizations.

Yet let no one imagine that this interference with the management in
the matter of discipline is brought about by design or is directly
intentional. On the contrary, in a very natural way, it has grown out
of a system whose main object has been to secure justice and equal
rights for every individual employee. But unfortunately, in pursuing
these personal ends and objects, the rights of the community have been
forgotten. It is easy to demonstrate that in the railroad business this
fair play to the individual frequently means a sacrifice of the public
interests. In the operating department of a railroad, illustrations of
this point meet us at every turn.

In any ordinary business establishment there is at all times a certain
amount of weeding going on for the good of the business. This is done
on the personal judgment and initiative of the manager. In this way
a high average of efficiency is attainable in all departments. But
in the railroad business no such personal action on the part of a
superintendent would be tolerated for a minute. It is surely reasonable
that among the thousands of men who enlist in the railroad ranks there
will be many who after a while will give evidence of unfitness for the
service. Regardless of the power of the superintendent in theory, these
men, if they are members of an Order or Brotherhood, _must actually
hurt somebody or do considerable damage to property, before they can
be removed_. That is to say, there is no elimination of weak spots
until something happens. But this is not all. When a vacancy occurs in
the service, it is immediately advertised, and the oldest bidder in
point of service takes the position. In some of the agreements with
the management the seniority rule is said to be absolute, in others it
is modified by the clause, “with the approval of the superintendent.”
But in a business of the nature of a railroad the public interests
demand that at all points the best available man should be in charge,
regardless of his length of service or his rights as an individual. But
the labor organizations do not permit the public interests or those of
the corporation to interfere with what they consider to be the just and
inalienable rights of each and every employee. Applied to the railroad
business, the fixed principle that every man shall take his turn is
fundamentally wrong and demoralizing. It is one of the wedges that
are being used to destroy personal supervision and management and to
substitute management by machine methods. In my opinion its tendency is
in the interests of poor service. Healthy competition in good behavior
is almost obliterated, while honest ambition and _esprit de corps_
get very little encouragement. It has the general effect of removing
the attention of employees from the management and concentrating it
steadfastly upon the organization, that is to say, upon the source from
which increase of pay and all other blessings are expected to flow.

Of course, I cannot expect railroad managers to agree at all points
with my estimate of their powers and functions, or of the helpless
situation in which they now find themselves. Just at present, however,
I am not interested in opinions from any quarter. The facts that
interest me, and I think the public as well, relate to what these
railroad managers have done in the past and are actually doing at the
present day, with such powers as they possess, in the interest of
safe and efficient railroad service. It may be very interesting to be
informed that a superintendent has the power promptly to discharge an
engineman for running a danger signal and placing the lives of five
hundred passengers in utmost peril, but it is much more to the point to
impress upon the public mind that the action of the official will not
amount to a snap of his finger if an organization puts down its foot
and signifies its opinion to the contrary. Illustrations of these facts
are not far to seek. Only a short time ago an engineman was promptly
discharged for disregarding a signal in a most inexcusable manner. The
case was passed up higher for the approval of the general manager.
Meanwhile the man had discovered some kind of an excuse for his action,
and a committee was appointed to look into the matter. There being a
total difference of opinion between the management and the grievance
committee, the heads of different organizations were summoned from
some western city to help straighten out the deadlock. After a while
the man was put back on his engine, and the report passed round that
the case had been settled in this way in the interests of harmony. No
wonder the superintendent who was concerned in the matter threw up his
hands in disgust and exclaimed, “What’s the use?”

This method of interfering with the regular course of discipline may
perhaps be proper and commendable in a cigar factory or a cotton
mill, but on a railroad, where the lives of countless people are
dependent upon obedience to the rules, its effect upon the service
is absolutely fatal. But unhappily this is not the whole story, for
it must be confessed that the public frequently joins hands with the
organizations in defeating the ends and aims of discipline. After some
of the worst and most inexcusable accidents that have ever occurred on
New England railroads, petition has followed petition into the railroad
offices with the expressed object of influencing the management to
reinstate men in the service who have been convicted of inefficiency or
unpardonable carelessness. Of course a superintendent should thoroughly
investigate every case on its merits, but the verdict of the management
should be final. The wisdom of this policy might be questioned if
superintendents were political appointees or owed their positions
to “graft” or “pull.” As a matter of fact these men are among the
hardest worked, most thoroughly capable and conscientious men in the
United States. No combination of opinion from the public, the railroad
commissioners, and the labor organizations is half as likely to be just
and impartial as the individual judgment of the superintendent on the
spot. The following significant remark by one of those gentlemen may
well be taken to heart by the public as well as by employees: “With a
free hand, we could put a stop to this killing in a week.”

The story of railroad management is now before us, and the record of
accidents all over the United States is the price that is being paid
for it. As I have described the situation, the circle of cause and
effect is now complete. Beginning with the negligence of employees,
which must be considered as the primary cause of these accidents,
I next took up the matter of discipline, whose function it is to
control and put a stop to this negligence. The system was found to be
altogether inadequate and useless. Finally, I attempted to demonstrate
that the labor organizations are responsible for the nature of this
discipline, and thus indirectly for the accidents that have resulted
from its inefficiency. Systems of discipline vary on different roads;
nevertheless these contentions are sound and universally applicable,
for the blight of interference with the management has in greater or
less degree withered every system of railroad discipline in the United
States, and exposed the traveling public to the mercy of service that
is inefficient and demoralized.

For the rest, it will be evident that the foregoing diagnosis of the
situation bears on its face unmistakable indications of the nature of
the cure. At all cost, interference with discipline must cease. This
conclusion admits no compromise. At the present day every decision
made by a superintendent is practically subject to the approval of
the Grievance Committee. But this is not all: the railroad manager is
handicapped and held up at every turn. In his dealings with the labor
problem, if by any possibility he manages to escape the fire, it can
only be by taking refuge in the frying-pan. An illustration in point
is the problem of keeping expenses within reasonable limits and at
the same time administering discipline to the very men who, backed by
powerful organizations, are continually insisting upon additions to the
pay-rolls.

But now, granting the situation and the difficulties as I have
described them, in what direction are we to look for relief? As it
seems to me, an unmistakable expression of public opinion would, in
the first place, go far in starting us all thinking and working in the
right direction. But even this will have little effect until railroad
men wake up out of the self-satisfied trance in which at present they
seem to be comfortably slumbering. Time was when our forgetfulness of
the public interests could be accounted for by our own poverty and
sufferings. But these unhappy conditions no longer exist, for to-day
we are probably as well paid and otherwise as well provided for and
equipped as any class of workers in the United States. Nevertheless,
when we are informed that in the year 1906 ten thousand people were
killed and one hundred thousand injured on American railroads, the
knowledge does not seem to “give us pause” in any way, or to ruffle our
individual self-satisfaction; while our organizations look at their
surroundings silently and impassively as the pyramids and obelisks look
upon the Egyptian deserts.

But affairs have now come to such a pass on the roads that at last
we are imperatively called upon to answer questions and explain our
position. Our best friends are beginning to criticise us. They remind
us that interference with discipline is in reality an attempt to take
part in its administration, and that our unions were never intended
or organized for that purpose. For a great many years an educational
campaign has been in progress all over the country for the purpose
of reminding us of our duties and obligations to our unions. This
educational method has been extremely successful, and has brought into
being armies of laboring men thoroughly loyal and self-centred. But the
result of this system on the railroads has been so disastrous to human
life that at last we are beginning to realize that there is a limit
even to the pursuit of our individual well-being.

In paying attention, even at this late date, to the higher call
of the social conscience, we railroad men shall enter a new world
with brighter prospects and a wider horizon. The nobility of labor
has always been the proud watchword of American civilization. Let
us be watchful lest we forfeit our claim to share in this national
distinction. By recognizing our duties and responsibilities to society
in our treatment of these railroad problems, we shall finally take our
place in line with those who through sacrifice and high endeavor are
destined, in good time, to cut out their way to industrial freedom.



IV

LOYALTY


The relations, coöperative and otherwise, that exist between the men
and the management of a railroad are intimately connected with the
safety and efficiency of the service. Generally speaking, the public
is quite ignorant of the nature of these relations. The men and the
management may be working harmoniously with a constant solicitude for
the safety and well-being of the patrons of the road; or, on the other
hand, they may be intrenched in opposing camps, mutually watchful
and suspicious of each other, and more or less forgetful of the
wider and vastly more important interests of the community at large.
One way or the other, the public knows little or nothing about the
actual situation. The managers of railroads are not in the habit of
discussing such matters or of taking the public into their confidence;
our organizations of railroad men likewise pursue the even tenor of
their way. It seems to the writer that the time is opportune for a
candid discussion of this topic, with a view to the education of public
opinion, and in the general interest of travelers by rail. A very brief
preliminary survey of the situation will not be out of place.

It is, of course, unnecessary to dwell upon the tremendous importance
of the railroads as a factor in our national life. Their ramifications
are like countless veins or arteries penetrating every nook and corner
of the continent. Backward and forward through these arteries there
passes and repasses an endless procession of commerce and travel.
In times gone by these huge systems of national and international
intercourse have, for the most part, been directed and kept in working
order by boards of management more or less personal and irresponsible
in their methods of administration. But within a few years a great
change has taken place. A new partner, in the person of the railroad
employee, has literally pushed his way into the manager’s office. So
important a factor has he now become in the councils of a railroad
corporation that hardly a move can be made in the operating department
without first consulting his rights and wishes. Not only is the power
and influence of the railroad employee at the present day an important
factor in railroad management, but, in the opinion of competent judges,
the time is not far distant when manager and employee will meet on
equal terms and together legislate for the interests of all concerned.
Now, granting the ever-increasing power of the employee in framing
the rules and influencing the management, what is there to be said
about the division of responsibility? The question calls for the most
serious consideration of railroad men. Manifestly, it also concerns
the public interest; for, in criticising conditions on our railroads,
public opinion should be thoroughly informed concerning the situation,
so that in all fairness it may call for remedies and reform from the
right quarter.

At the present day, when an accident happens on a railroad and lives
of passengers are sacrificed by reason of the carelessness or neglect
of employees, practically the whole moral and financial responsibility
is immediately assumed by the management Heartfelt regret is at once
expressed by the highest authorities, the injured are visited by
sympathetic officials, and every conceivable kind of bill or expense
is at once acknowledged and paid. On the other hand we, the employees,
singly and collectively, ignore the whole business. We simply stand
back and let the press and the authorities figure out reasons and
remedies for themselves. We neither adopt resolutions of sympathy nor
pay out a single dollar to benefit the families of the dead, or to
alleviate the sufferings of the injured.

Considering the division of power, does this adjustment of
responsibility appeal to any fair-minded person? It has occurred to
some of us that if we or our organizations were assessed in hard cash
in proportion to our responsibility for some of these preventable
accidents, the casualty lists on our railroads would very quickly
assume microscopic proportions. An “Employees’ Liability Act” would, of
course, be looked upon as an absurdity; yet if unprejudiced judges were
to analyze a few of our accidents, they would quickly conclude that
the idea is sanely and soberly logical. They would simply consider the
matter in the light of fair and square taxation with unmistakable and
ample representation. It must not be forgotten that the manifestation
of power by railroad labor is to be looked for not so much in the
wording of schedules and agreements as in what the managements of
railroads under pressure _feel constrained to refrain from doing_. The
fairness and cogency of this argument may not “be as deep as a well”
nor “as wide as a church door,” but I think, in the words of Mercutio,
“’tis enough.” The questions and considerations that arise in this way
in regard to the interests of the public, the management, and the men,
are all comprehensively included and can be profitably discussed under
the simple caption of loyalty,--on the one hand, loyalty of the men to
their employers, and, on the other, loyalty of the employers to the men.

No sincere well-wisher of the railroad employee will question the
importance of the relation that exists, or that is supposed to exist,
on American railroads, between labor and loyalty. Volumes have been
written about loyalty in the abstract. For the most part politicians
and teachers of national morality and patriotism have monopolized
these arguments. The former would sink individualism in the interest
of the machine, the latter for the good of their country. Granted the
purity of their motives, the efforts of these people are entirely
praiseworthy; and yet the significance and importance of loyalty
in the industrial life of the nation can by no means be said to be
included in the teachings of either politician or patriot. On American
railroads, in particular, the question of the loyalty of employees to
the corporations and to the interests of the public is vastly more
important than a superficial glance at the subject would lead one to
suppose. Understanding as we do the ever-increasing influence of the
employee, the problem which we have now to consider relates to what
at the present day he is doing with his power, and to what, with his
ever-increasing importance, he intends to do with it in the time to
come. The future holds in it the answer to these questions in terms of
selfishness and abuse of power, or in terms of loyalty to himself, the
corporations, and the public.

To attempt to give a definition of loyalty to apply to and to cover
this railroad business would simply be time and effort thrown away.
It is one thing to impress upon learned and critical readers that
individualism is in error and that loyalty is “willing and practical
devotion to a cause that is outside of the individual and larger than
he is.” It is quite another affair, and altogether more important,
to reproduce our philosophy in terms of actual conduct and behavior.
Not one railroad man in a thousand has either the time or the mental
training to study theories, and from the teachings of professors to
work out rules for his daily guidance; yet it is manifest that the
most useful and wholesome ideas can be put to little practical utility
in this railroad business until the employee is aroused, and some
practical interpretation of them brought home to him with unmistakable
sincerity and emphasis. While, therefore, it is unnecessary to supply
railroad men with a definition of loyalty, it will be just as well to
call attention to some of its most important features.

Loyalty then, as applied to the railroad service, means the safety of
the traveling public so far as human safeguards can be depended upon.
Again, comparing the service as it actually is with what it might be,
loyalty means the elimination of numerous petty delays, and at times
serious blockades, which, at the present day, on many railroads, are so
annoying to the traveling public. This matter of delays to passenger
trains is quite an important feature, and it is surprising how much
the personality of the men and their interpretation of loyalty to
the public interest figure in the problem. Furthermore, a stricter
interpretation of loyalty by employees on any given railroad can easily
be shown to mean a positive reduction in operating expenses to the tune
of thousands upon thousands of dollars. These additional resources
placed at the disposal of the management would mean, of course, funds
wherewith to satisfy the never-ceasing demands of employees for better
conditions and increase of pay. Finally, loyalty means fidelity; and
with fidelity comes sympathy; and with sympathy comes practical and
earnest coöperation between management and men, without which safe and
efficient service is liable to be a mere delusion and will-o’-the-wisp.

Now, while it is a pleasure to bear witness to the steadfast loyalty,
frequently under trying conditions, of numerous individual employees,
it is nevertheless the duty of the unprejudiced investigator to call
attention to the fact that the tendency of the forces that are at work
in this railroad business at the present day, on the part both of
the men and of the management, is simply and positively to eliminate
loyalty as a useful and essential factor in the administration of
affairs. While the public, the management, and the men are mixed up
in the responsibility for this unsatisfactory condition, the blame
for the lack of sympathetic coöperation, which is only another term
for loyalty, that exists among us, must, to begin with, be laid at the
door of the employee himself. This is by no means the hasty opinion of
an individual thinker. Professor Royce, an eminent authority on the
subject, in a lecture delivered at the Lowell Institute in Boston,
describes the situation very emphatically in the following language:--

“The trades-unions demand and cultivate the loyalty of their members;
but they emphasize the thesis that to be loyal to his union the laborer
must disregard certain duties to the community at large and to the
nation, duties which loyalty to loyalty seems obviously to require.”

By loyalty to loyalty, Professor Royce means “the maximum of loyalty
to the world.” But professors and students of industrial conditions
are by no means unsupported in their conclusions. That labor leaders
themselves are aware of the inherent weakness of our position may
be inferred from the following extract from an editorial in “The
International Railroad Employee” for November, 1907.

“I may not lay claim to either the age or wisdom to advise my brother
workers what to do, but if you will consider some of my suggestions
relative to your actions and surroundings, and talk them over among
yourselves, I am sure you will be able to find the world brighter for
you. You seldom, if ever, give any serious thought to bettering your
condition except by hoping for better wages. _Your ideals begin and end
with wages_, and so long as that be true there is no possibility of
your condition being bettered.”

Surely this is a most uncomfortable and damaging confession.
Interpreted in terms of railroad service, it should have the effect
of causing the public to sit up and think it all over. With all our
education and enlightenment, is it really a fact that the ideals and
humanity of the American railroad man can be crammed into a nutshell in
this way by honest and practical investigators, and labeled “wages”?
At the present day the assertion that corporations are soulless has
almost the nature and force of an axiom. It would now appear, according
to the authorities just quoted, that the policy and ideals of labor,
as represented by the American railroad man, are not only soulless but
brainless as well.

So far in this discussion we have been dealing with theories
and opinions. It now remains to be seen, by actual example and
illustration, upon what ground or basis these theories have been
advanced. In plain English, what is the actual and manifest cost, in
character and dollars, of this lack of loyalty to the world at large
which is a distinguishing feature of railroad life at the present day?
It is hardly fair to call it a lack of individual loyalty, for at heart
the American railroad man is thoroughly loyal; but, unfortunately, the
systems of labor organization and management under whose direction he
works, practically call upon him to renounce his personal principles in
the interest of schedules and agreements which constitute the machinery
of the operating department.

It may, of course, be taken for granted that managers of railroads are
well aware of the importance and value of practical loyalty in all
branches of the service; and yet when one examines the evidence with
a view to ascertaining what they actually do for its encouragement,
one is driven to conclude that there must be some kind of a hitch
somewhere. As an illustration let us take the following incident, which
is almost an everyday occurrence:--

Freight train No. 1 pulls into a yard a few miles outside the terminal.
The train and engine crew are on overtime; that is to say, every hour
they remain out on the road means a great many dollars in wages over
and above their regular pay. Before long, another freight train, No.
2, overtakes train No. 1. Instead of pulling into the yard and doing
its work in turn, this second train runs up the main line and backs in
ahead of train No. 1, thus putting it in a pocket. In this way train
No. 1 is delayed three or four hours, thus causing the engine to be
late for the return service; and altogether an extra and entirely
unnecessary expense of perhaps fifty dollars is entailed upon the
railroad.

A few days later, the writer, happening to meet the engineman of train
No. 2, spoke to him in regard to the affair. He appeared to be very
much surprised that his conduct should be questioned or criticised in
any way. He had supposed it was every man’s duty to shift for himself;
to _jump_ another train whenever an opportunity presented itself, and
to get to his destination as quickly as possible. The question of the
interest of the company was a side issue, to which he paid little
attention. If loyalty of this kind was a matter of importance to the
company, why, he contended, was the attention of the men not called
to such matters in some emphatic way? So far as he was aware, the
management had little to say on any subject except as its views were
set forth in the rules and regulations. In his opinion it was every
man for himself on the one hand, and every official for himself on the
other; and whenever their interests or opinions clashed, it became
the duty of the management and the grievance committee to settle the
differences. This engineman was not far wrong so far as concerned
the actual conditions of his daily work; and yet the management of a
railroad takes a good deal more interest in such matters than this man
had any idea of.

Some time ago a vice-president of one of our railroad systems addressed
a gathering of some five hundred railroad station-agents and clerks. He
had a good deal to say to the men about loyalty. He tried to impress
upon his hearers that railroad men should think less about their wages
and their material prosperity and more about character and the duties
they owed to their employers and to the public. The prosperity of
the men was in every way dependent upon the prosperity of the road;
consequently, every act of loyalty, every little economy, was a genuine
factor in obtaining satisfactory results and returns for the road.
In the matter of supplies, for example, employees could do splendid
work for the road if they would only put their minds to it. But it
was not such an easy matter nowadays to put a stop to waste in some
departments, even when its practice was shameful and persistent. Of
course, it was an easy matter to find fault with a station-agent if he
used a pint of ink over and above his allowance; but when the operating
department consumed thousands of gallons of oil per year more than
was absolutely necessary, the problem became much more complicated.
However, seeing that reporters were excluded from the hall, he would
venture to say that in the single case of oil it was possible for
engine crews, by the exercise of the simplest loyalty and regard for
the prosperity of the road, to reduce the expenditure in that one item
to the extent of many thousands of dollars per year. But, of course, in
the interest of harmony it would never do to tell enginemen and firemen
that they are deliberately wasteful or lacking in loyalty to their
employers.

To say the least, one gets the impression from these remarks that
railroad officials are called upon to pursue their labors with
something in the nature of a “sword of Damocles” suspended over their
heads. However, it must not be supposed that instances of loyalty on a
railroad are few and far between. On the contrary, from time to time
the attention of the management is directed to instances of conspicuous
and profitable loyalty.

Some time ago one of the largest freight yards in the western part
of the state enjoyed a very unenviable reputation for breakages of
draw-bars, derailments of cars, and all sorts of unnecessary delays to
passenger trains. Finally a change was made in the yard-master. The
new man began operations with heart-to-heart conversations with the
yardmen. If they had grievances he was ready to straighten them out.
The men had his sympathy and backing, and in return he requested their
coöperation in order to convert the record of the yard from the worst
to the best on the system.

Working in this sympathetic yet practical way, in a year’s time he had
succeeded even beyond his expectation. While handling a much larger
volume of business, the operating expenses and the bills for breakages
were reduced many thousands of dollars.

Illustrations of a similar nature can be multiplied indefinitely,
but one will serve as well as a hundred to demonstrate the fact that
railroad men as a rule give little thought to the matter, and that
railroad managers, while quite aware of its significance and value,
seldom go out of the beaten routine of their regular duties to impress
upon their employees the importance of the issues at stake. The
following somewhat remarkable illustration will throw additional light
on the subject:--

On one of the busiest sections of a New England railroad a certain
foreman has charge of a gang of men. This foreman is a good average
man, something of a “hustler,” and thoroughly capable and experienced.
When carefully examined, however, his record revealed the fact that he
had been unable to keep a man on his gang more than a month or two at a
time. During ten or twelve years’ service he had to break in and teach
the business, practically in vain, to upwards of two hundred green men.
Now there is a right and a wrong way of driving spikes and tamping
ties, and poor and inexperienced work means broken rails, jumping of
track by cars, and a variety of accidents. The foreman in question
is a thoroughly conscientious man. In driving his men in unreasonable
fashion he fancies he is working in the interests of the railroad
company. He considers himself loyal to the backbone, and yet he is
probably the most expensive section foreman on the division.

[Illustration: A TYPICAL DERAILMENT]

At another point on the same railroad a different kind of a section
foreman is stationed. This man has been on one and the same section for
fifteen years, and of his original gang of seven men he still retains
five. Of the two who are missing, one is dead, the other accumulated
a little competency and retired from the service. This foreman is,
comparatively speaking, a very quiet man. He is methodical and exact
in everything he does. He always addresses his men in a low tone, but
with considerable emphasis. His men like him, and they work behind
his back in exactly the same manner as when he is standing over them.
His conduct is not so much a matter of temperament as of downright
calculation and of thought upon the real value and meaning of loyalty
to the interests of his employers.

Drawing up the facts in the cases of these two foremen, the writer
sent them to an experienced road-master, with the request that he
would kindly give him an idea as to what, in his opinion, would be
the difference in actual cash value of the services to the railroad
of these two foremen. He replied that he was much interested in
the question, and had looked up the records of the sections with
considerable minuteness, and was of the opinion that the conduct and
loyalty of the foreman in the second illustration represented a saving
to the company of at least a thousand dollars a year. But in answer to
a further inquiry as to what notice or encouragement the loyalty of the
men received in his department, he replied that no particular attention
was paid to it by the management, that such matters were allowed to
drift, for the simple reason that the men were organized and that
the agreements between the company and the unions call for promotion
in turn, or what practically amounts to the same thing, and that,
in short, there was certainly no organized method or means by which
loyalty could be recognized or rewarded.

For the purpose of demonstrating the value of a thoughtful
consideration of the interests of a railroad corporation, no
illustration can be considered too insignificant. At a certain junction
point a man has charge of fifty lamps. At another station another
man secures equally good results from the same number of lamps while
burning a fraction of a cent’s worth less oil per lamp per night. By
actual investigation and test, it was discovered that the second man
handled the business with a saving to the company of practically one
dollar per year per lamp. This was very interesting when one considers
the thousands of switch and other lamps that burn nightly all the year
round on a railroad system. Carrying the inquiry a little farther, the
writer was able to ascertain that, so far as known, only two or three
railroads in the United States take any notice of such information
when they happen to possess it; they do not commend the employees for
faithful service, and thus stimulate others to like meritorious efforts.

The Santa Fé Railroad is a notable exception to the general rule. In
December, 1907, this road published a list of employees who had been
heartily thanked by the management and given merit marks for loyalty
to the road and the public, not only in cases of emergency, but in
the simplest cases of thoughtfulness and economical workmanship. The
following is taken from a list of forty:--

“E. H. Vaden, Engineer, and W. L. Sims, Fireman, ten merit marks each
for discovering switch in bad condition and without a light, making it
safe and afterwards providing a light.”

At the risk of making a slight digression from the main line of
my argument, I am tempted to add a few lines regarding methods of
management on the Santa Fé. They are taken from a report of one of
the officials, and probably represent the most up-to-date and sanest
railroad management in the country to-day:--

“To make an effort to reduce injuries and accidents to the lowest
possible minimum, the company has felt justified in creating an office
to handle in a systematic manner the question of preventing accidents
and injuries. Great and astonishing results can be obtained along
these lines by constant attention and earnest work on the part of the
person in charge of this office, and by securing the coöperation of all
employees and the assistance of the heads of the different departments.
It is, therefore, very necessary that the ‘_safety officer_’ be as
thoroughly acquainted as possible with all the men over the entire
system, and personally call their attention to the importance of
lending their assistance to this cause.”

In contrast to the personal attention that is paid to the human element
on the Santa Fé, let us glance at the methods pursued on railroads
in the East. You will find in our railroad offices an exact record
and working history of every piece of equipment, from a spike to a
locomotive. Every draw-bar, every coupler, every passenger coach, and
practically every engine-tire has to give an account of itself. The
performances of these “parts” are carefully scrutinized and watched.
You will be shown all sorts of diagrams, charts, and volumes of
statistics going to show the care and expense devoted to equipment and
machinery. But if you happen to ask for a few human statistics you are
likely to be disappointed. For instance, if a certain train crew runs a
freight train two hundred times in a year, breaking seventy draw-bars
and upon different occasions delaying thirty-seven passenger trains,
and another crew under very similar conditions pulls out only thirteen
draw-bars and delays only nine passenger trains, you may consider the
records quite important; but in the railroad offices you will find
no statistics of this nature, no comparative statements and diagrams
illustrative of the workmanship and character of different men and of
the value and significance of the human element in the running of a
railroad. In a word, you will infer from your investigation that if it
isn’t a machine or a piece of machinery it isn’t worth bothering about.

Finally, let us take a very significant illustration, in which the
traveling public should be somewhat interested. The other day a
through passenger train arrived at a junction in the western part
of Massachusetts. It was on its way east, and was practically on
time. But at this point it became necessary for the engineman to
renew the water-supply. Consequently he cut off his engine and ran
down some little distance to the water-stand. After an interval of
twenty minutes, as the engine had not returned to the train, the
station-master went down to investigate the delay. He found the
engineman and fireman sitting quietly in the cab waiting for a brakeman
to come and turn on the water. It was some brakeman’s duty to do this
work at this point, and as he failed to appear, business came to a
standstill. The engineman knew his rights and stuck to them. The idea
of loyalty to the interests of the corporation and the public could
not be permitted to enter into the question, for the reason that to do
another man’s work, even in a case of emergency, would be to surrender
rights and privileges which had been fought for and secured after
months of agitation and diplomacy. The train was thirty minutes late at
its destination. In such cases the management is helpless.

It matters little that my illustrations may be criticised as uncommon
occurrences. The principle that tolerates the situation is surely out
of place on a railroad. By way of contrast, the following item taken
from the merit list on the Santa Fé Railroad is both interesting and
significant:--

“J. E. Helms, Engineer, and M. C. Collins, Fireman, ten merit marks for
coaling up engine 1029 when the coal chute was out of service.”

Strange as the statement may seem at first sight, we railroad people
at the present day are suffering from a very peculiar form of mental
blindness. Perhaps the point will be more comprehensible if we call it
“department paralysis.” Our vision seems to be strictly limited to our
own departments or spheres of action. In this way every department on
a railroad is loyal to itself and more or less forgetful of the other
departments. For example, the operating department is responsible for
the care and prompt movement of trains. In a general way it is taken
for granted that these movements must be made with safety as well as
dispatch. And yet, looking into the matter closely, we are able to
discover that dispatch and not safety is the main feature and business.
Unfortunately there is no safety department on a railroad, or rather
safety takes pot-luck in all the departments. Altogether, safety
finds it no easy matter to secure recognition, and city governments,
railroad commissioners, and railroad officials all seem to suffer from
department paralysis upon occasions when loyalty to the interests of
the traveling public would seem to demand a much clearer and wider
vision. To all appearances it is impossible for these departments to
see beyond the precincts of their own particular hobby or vocation. Let
us take a very pertinent illustration:--

The other day, in the vicinity of Boston, several teams were smashed
and two persons were killed at a well-known and very dangerous
crossing. It being Christmas time, there had been an almost continuous
procession of vehicles all day long over the crossing. At a moment when
perhaps the crush was greatest, the gong in the gate-house gave warning
that an express train was approaching. Immediately there ensued a wild
scramble to hustle the stream of humanity over the crossing and out of
the way of the train. It was no easy task for the gateman. Regardless
of the descending gates, a number of teams, unable to turn aside, made
a final dash to get to the other side. To drop the gates on the backs
of the horses was out of the question, and, as a last resort, frantic
yet useless attempts were made to flag the approaching train. In the
midst of the excitement the flyer dashed upon the scene with disastrous
results.

The following day the accident was thoroughly and fearlessly discussed
in the newspapers. There was no difference of opinion on the subject.
Practically speaking, every one representing the state, the city, the
railroad, and the newspapers, agreed to concentrate their minds on the
grade-crossing problem. It should be abolished. This is the universal
“hobby” and a good one, no doubt, but apparently no one can see an
inch farther. The questions _why_ and _how_ people are killed almost
every day at these crossings received no attention whatever. Public
opinion, not unreasonably perhaps, is satisfied with the assurance that
everything humanly and reasonably possible under the circumstances
was done by the railroad men concerned in it to _get the teams out
of the way of the trains_. But it did not occur to any one that the
whole system of keeping teams out of the way of trains is inherently
and inexcusably wrong. The list of victims who are sacrificed to this
popular mistake is being added to daily. If the public has any right
at all on these crossings, it goes without question that, while they
are making use of their rights and in the act of crossing, their safety
should depend, not upon their efforts to scramble out of the way of the
trains, but upon the moral and legal obligation of the railroads _to
keep the trains out of the way of the vehicles_.

This view, of course, is based on the supposition that the safety of
the public is of more importance than the speed of the trains over
these crossings. In the case we are now considering, if an empty coal
car had been on the crossing it would have been amply protected from
the passenger train. Not only is this true, but the tracks of another
railroad cross this highway diagonally at this point, and while trains
are crossing they are doubly protected by semaphore targets and
derailing switches. Teams, however, and passengers on foot have to
depend on emergency arrangements which, as we all know, are practically
useless. If railroads can afford to protect their rolling-stock in
the way described, the interests and property of the public might
reasonably be expected to receive equal consideration. In plain
language, the pressing of a button in crossing-houses, in connection
with proper signals, would give the public the protection so urgently
called for. Altogether the foregoing may be taken as a very good object
lesson on the safety problem on our railroads.

This crossing accident took place in December, 1907. Within a mile of
the scene, on the next crossing, in the month of July, 1908, another
accident occurred under similar conditions. In this case a wagon was
demolished, two horses were killed, and a number of passengers on an
express train were injured. Comment is unnecessary.

For the rest, the interest and significance of this essay will be sadly
misunderstood if the impression is in any way derived from it that the
railroad employee is singled out and must stand alone as an object of
adverse criticism. As a matter of fact, a volume can be written in our
defense. Only too many of us can remember the time when a deserving
employee could be, and frequently was, discharged on the flimsiest
pretext. His breakfast disagreed with a yard-master or he happened to
have domestic troubles on his mind: for less reason than this good
men were sent packing. Not ten years ago the service on New England
railroads swarmed with favorites and brothers-in-law. Faithful old
employees were sent adrift without a moment’s warning or sympathy, to
make room for youngsters with a “pull.” Many an honest old servitor,
not so very long ago either, with justice and reason might have flung
the retort of old Adam, in “As You Like It,” at his superior. “Is ‘old
dog’ my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.” But
we have changed all that. Nevertheless, these things rankle. They say
history repeats itself. Justice certainly does; and as for injustice
it reacts and rebounds, and perhaps, after many days, it returns and
demands a settlement at compound interest. The situation to-day between
labor and capital is but a chapter in the natural history of the
instinct of self-defense.

Finally, in regard to the lack of loyalty to the world at large, the
railroad employee is far from being the only offender. While it may
be said to be strictly unintentional, this lack of loyalty covers our
railroads as with a blanket. The illustrations given above have been
chosen with strict impartiality, and regardless of the personality
of the offenders. With the panorama of railroad life before us, as
I have endeavored to sketch it, we railroad men should be able to
contemplate the conditions, and our conduct in relation to them, as in
a looking-glass. While the writer’s sincere desire from beginning to
end has been to avoid giving unnecessary offense to any one, yet it
should not be forgotten that to take away life, either needlessly or
heedlessly, on a railroad is an offense against society that calls for
the utmost rigor of treatment.



V

THE SQUARE DEAL


In the days of the Roman Republic, when a consul was invested with
supreme power, he received a caution or command somewhat as follows:
“See to it that the Republic receives no injury.”

This injunction is quite as significant and important to-day, both
to individuals and to public officials, as it was a thousand years
ago. Then, as now, the interests of the community were the first and
paramount consideration. But in discussing questions relating to these
interests, such as, for instance, those which have arisen between labor
and management on our railroads, public opinion, as represented by the
press and the laws, should insist upon a fair field, no favor, and
absolutely open play on all sides.

We need only glance at the safety problem on American railroads to
appreciate it thoroughly. During 1907, on a single well-known railroad,
thirty passengers were killed and 1596 injured; 572 trespassers killed
and 526 injured; 72 people were killed at grade crossings and 518
injured; twelve contractor’s men were killed and ten injured; the
total killed numbered 686, and the injured 2650. These figures are
not inclusive of employees. The biggest single item of the year’s
disaster for personal injuries fell under the head of collisions, 76
of them resulting in 456 claims, to the account of which the charge
was $145,748. The total was 876 claims for personal injuries, costing
$746,075, still leaving 2345 unsettled cases at the expiration of the
year.

Some time ago, in the Chicago “Record-Herald,” E. P. Ripley, president
of the Santa Fé system, was quoted as follows: “One of the most serious
conditions which this country is facing to-day is the indifference and
disregard which the employee has for the interests of the employer.”

“The Santa Fé,” continued Mr. Ripley, “hopes to establish a better
_esprit de corps_ among its employees, and expects that a liberal
pension system will have that tendency. We have on this system as much
loyalty as most railroads enjoy, if not more, but it is not what it
should be. The lack of loyalty among employees is a condition from
which all corporations are now suffering, and it presents a most
serious problem.”

It matters little to what railroad one turns for information on this
subject, Mr. Ripley’s remarks, in a greater or less degree, apply to
them all. Quite recently, in discussing this topic, the manager of
another railroad uttered the same opinion from a somewhat different
standpoint. He remarked in substance, “During the last week, at three
different sessions, a committee of employees came to this office for
the purpose of arbitrating, or coming to some understanding about,
a matter of discipline. These men fought tooth and nail for what
they considered their rights in this case, and finally, at the third
hearing, an agreement was arrived at, which, if you choose, you may
call a compromise. So far so good. But now to-day, these same men,
or rather two of them, representing different organizations, have
been up here again. Some kind of a dispute has arisen between these
organizations, and they called upon me, with assurances of belief in
my ability and impartiality, to act as final arbitrator between them.
This means, of course, that I must devote two or three hours of my
time to their private interests. Be this as it may, I consented to
act as arbitrator, but at the same time I couldn’t help wondering
how these men could find it in their hearts to accept my verdict in
their private affairs, about which I know comparatively little, while
they persistently question my judgment, and practically my honesty
of purpose, in matters of discipline and management. In a word,” he
concluded, “why don’t the employees trust the management to administer
the affairs of the railroad conscientiously and fairly, and to give to
each employee a square deal?”

During the palmy days of what may be called autocratic management,
when a railroad man started out in the morning, the paymaster, or the
office-boy, for that matter, could have told you the exact amount
the man would have been entitled to on his return. The employee was
willing, and in fact had agreed, to travel or to work from a point A to
a point B for a certain fixed sum. So far as his pay was concerned, it
made no difference whether he covered the distance in eight hours or
eighteen. If a yard-master delayed him for two or three hours before
starting, and if he lost half a day on the road by reason of wrecks,
disablement of locomotive, or a washout, so much the worse for him. His
duty was to go from A to B and to do what he was told to on the way,
without question, even if it took him from sunrise to sunrise to cover
the distance. There was no help or rescue in sight, no appeal from the
discipline in those days; and if the work was not to his liking, the
world was wide, and a dozen men were ready to step into his place.

Nevertheless, the one-sidedness and injustice of the whole proceeding
were manifest to everybody, and from year to year it remained to be
talked about, objected to, and brooded over. But with ever-increasing
business and complication of conditions, a much better educated class
of men found their way into the railroad service. In moving a train
from place to place, greater intelligence was required. A conductor
to-day can frequently run from one end of the road to the other in a
purely mechanical fashion; but in the early days of railroading, with a
single track, a confusion of flags and train orders, and a multitude of
unforeseen difficulties awaiting him at every station, it took little
less than genius to make a successful railroad man.

The really heart-breaking story of the hardship and heroism of the
trainmen of those days has never been written, but a touch of the
stern reality and pathos of it all can be imagined from the single
consideration, that of seventeen freight conductors who in the year
1883 ran trains through the Hoosac Tunnel, only five in the year 1888,
that is, five years later, were still to be found on the pay-rolls. In
nearly every instance, death in violent form had removed the others.
Of course, as we all know, the most popular type of heroism is to be
looked for on the battlefield; but there are hundreds of railroad
veterans on the streets to-day, undecorated and unremembered, whose
services to the country are all worthy of popular sympathy and national
gratitude.

As a result of these extraordinary conditions and the continual killing
of employees, a new and more intelligent class of men was called upon,
in course of time, to undertake the dangerous duties of railroad
service. With increased intelligence and broader mental equipment,
the thinking process in the brain of the railroad man expanded, and
very naturally his awakened attention was not exclusively centred on
the business of his employers. It soon became known to officials,
and to the world, that we had grievances. Before long, rumblings of
discontent were heard on all sides. Between ourselves we began to
discuss matters of right and wrong. The men got together in groups,
in small gatherings. Here and there, all over the country, little
Runnymedes were attended by all conscientious, determined railroad men.
With an ever-increasing demand for our services, came consciousness
of importance and power. Attention was called to the injustice, the
inconsistency of the situation. We petitioned and agitated for trifles.
Inch by inch ground was gained. Frequently we were beaten back,
sometimes routed, at other times the battle was drawn; but after every
encounter, regardless of result, the ghost of the future remained on
the field to disturb the slumbers of the management. So, through the
years, the struggle proceeded, concession followed concession, until
all kinds of injustice and favoritism, and in fact the whole system of
purely autocratic management, had gone by the board, and fair play for
the railroad trainman was an accomplished fact. For the future, to ask
was to receive. Face to face with organizations of determined men,
with the crops and manufactures of half a continent waiting to be moved
to the seaboard, what was a management or a combination of managements
going to do about it?

Thus, by evolution and revolution, a mighty change has come over the
scene. To-day, when a railroad man makes a trip from point A to point
B, it is altogether different from the performance to which I called
attention at the beginning of this essay. At the end of his trip,
the man now takes out his pencil and does some figuring. Neither the
superintendent nor the paymaster has the slightest idea what the
engineman’s, the conductor’s, or the brakeman’s bill for a day’s work
is going to be. If a man is delayed on a road by the negligence of
a fellow employee, the company will have to pay for the extra time.
If he makes a straight trip, with one or two stops, he has a certain
rate; if in the performance of his duties he is called upon to make an
extra stop or to pick up a car of perishable goods, he will call for a
special rate and much more money. His day’s trip frequently bristles
with possibilities in the way of special rates and overtime. In the
matter of overtime, he may have the opportunity to be just or unjust,
as it pleases him; anyway, the company is at his mercy. Again, if at
the end of a hundred-mile run, or thereabouts, for which an engineman
would receive from four to five dollars, he is requested to take his
engine out on the road again and move a car a distance of twenty feet,
he will turn in his bill to the company for a greater amount than a
gate-tender or a switchman would receive for his whole day’s work, from
six in the morning until six at night, without a minute for meals.

Again, if a man gets into trouble, he is called into the office for an
investigation. If it turns out that the accident was unquestionably
the fault of the employee, he, of course, is liable to be disciplined
for it in some way; but if as a result of the accident, the whole road
is tied up for twelve hours, and he remains on duty half a day longer
than his usual time, he will receive payment for this overtime in full,
regardless of the fact that he himself was wholly responsible for the
delay.

Far from criticising this state of affairs, I consider the
demonstration I have given of the exact status of the railroad man
at the present day a magnificent tribute to righteous and necessary
organization. Up to this point the public has had no cause to complain,
and discipline has not been interfered with. The treasury has borne
the whole burden. While it is doubtless true that the liberal terms
and concessions to which I refer have been brought about, so to
speak, at the point of the bayonet, nevertheless many privileges and
advantages are enjoyed by railroad men, which cannot be said to owe
their origin to compulsion or pressure of any kind. The care shown by
nearly all railroads for the welfare of the employee, and the millions
of dollars that have been expended for his social and intellectual
betterment, must also be taken as direct evidence of square and honest
treatment. To combat the evils of the saloon, and in the interest of
good citizenship, both on and off the railroad, the corporations have
gone extensively and expensively into the construction and maintenance
of reading-rooms and hospitals, as well as relief, savings, and loan
associations. There is, indeed, a fine sense of business judgment
hidden away in these different methods of looking after the interests
of the employees, and there is hardly a road in the country that
does not recognize the principle that to obtain competent, trained
assistants, especially in the operating department, it is essential
that the men be surrounded with all sorts of inducements to remain in
the service, and to be loyal to the interests of their employers. This
philanthropic and betterment work is to be found on all railroads, and
conspicuously so on the Baltimore & Ohio. The following particulars
of relief and betterment work on the above railroad may be taken as a
lesson of what corporations with souls are doing in the interests of
employees.

Membership in the Relief Department of the Baltimore & Ohio is
compulsory on the part of all employed in the direct operation of
the road. The employees themselves have part in the direction of the
affairs of the organization. The company makes all collections and
payments, under its guarantee of responsibility for every penny coming
into or going out through its hands. The company also pledges itself to
pay four per cent interest on the monthly balances of current accounts;
no charge is made for office rent, and all the facilities of the road
are at command, without cost. Operating expenditure is thus reduced
to a minimum, and upon transactions during the year 1906-1907, which
represented a million dollars distributed in benefits, the expense
averaged but a dollar and sixty-eight cents per capita of membership.
The aggregate of the benefits paid from the founding of the Relief to
the close of the year 1906-1907, was thirteen millions of dollars.

The Baltimore & Ohio plan for pension payments, in vogue for the past
twenty-three years, is in conjunction with the Relief Department, but
is not, as that is, maintained by the contributions of employees. The
pension system is maintained entirely by the company, which contributes
for the purpose about $90,000 annually. During the year 1906-1907 the
fund paid in pensions was over $95,000, to about 400 pensioners.
Since its inauguration in 1884, there has been paid out in pensions,
$1,008,000.

Again, the foundation of two other features--Savings and Loan--in the
Baltimore & Ohio dates back a full quarter of a century. The Savings
is strictly a trust fund, around it being thrown the unequivocal
protection of the United States government in the decision handed down
by its courts. Of course this is understood by employee-depositors;
consequently there is absolute confidence. There are no runs, no
anxiety as to savings, and no fear that what has been laid aside for a
rainy day will be risked. Meantime, upon it the company is guaranteeing
four per cent and earnings; the interest and dividend returns thus
amount to never less than five and sometimes five and a half per
cent. The total of the savings deposits to June 30, 1907, reached
eight and a half million dollars, and interest and dividends paid to
employee-depositors to that time came to a million and a half dollars.

The Baltimore & Ohio loan feature is still more remarkable. The object
is to enable the employees to own their own homes. All are real-estate
transactions, and it is a remarkable fact that the administration
of this feature, throughout twenty-five years, has been entirely
without appreciable loss on any single investment. Employee-borrowers
have entered into personal obligations representing the building of
two thousand houses and the purchase of three thousand homesteads.
The transactions of the loan section to June 30 represented six and
three-quarter millions of dollars, when there was also a million and a
quarter in the treasury, upon which the company’s guarantee of four per
cent held good.

Rest-houses are another form through which welfare work in the direct
interest of the employee is carried on as part of the regular operation
of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. The aim is to furnish a comfortable
and convenient place, open at all hours, to the employee coming in from
his run, whose first want is a bath, with plenty of hot water, and
subsequently a restful bed. The work carried on by the Railroad Y. M.
C. A. is of a similar nature. The old-time dark cabooses, dingy freight
cars, and decrepit coaches, serving as night-holes into which to crawl
for the sleeping hours till the time for the next run, are now nothing
but an unpleasant memory. The Railroad Y. M. C. A., with its commodious
lounging-rooms, bright and airy dining-rooms, clean lunch-counters,
well-appointed kitchens, billiard rooms and bowling alleys, general
assembly halls, libraries, attractive bedrooms and baths, is the
practical exemplification to-day of the fitness of things. The
disbursements of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad for these purposes have
in single years exceeded fifty thousand dollars, and every penny is
profitably expended from the purely business standpoint. Bettering the
man betters his work.

Furthermore, incident to the administration of the Relief Department,
the company, through a corps of medical examiners and surgeons, closely
supervises the health of its employees and the sanitary conditions of
the places where their duties are performed. This corps is in charge
of a chief surgeon and chief medical examiner, both prominent in their
professions; and although the number of men in their charge exceeds
forty thousand, any complicated or persistent disability of an employee
secures the personal supervision of the chief surgeon.

This is surely a remarkable demonstration of what one corporation is
doing, and has done, for the benefit of its employees. It is very
doubtful if any government or any other industrial institution in the
world can show any such record, and one which extends over such a long
term of years. Fair and humane treatment of employees cannot be carried
any further.

Having in this way, for the present, made an end of the evidence as
regards the men, let us now turn to the management. It will, I think,
be admitted that the running and operation of trains on American
railroads calls for some system of management and discipline that
shall be absolutely untrammeled and free from outside influence or
interference. In a word, the manager of the operating department of a
railroad should be permitted to manage. Public opinion, of course, is
always free to express itself as it thinks fit on this and on kindred
subjects, but it will be found to be utterly unjust in its position if
it allows itself in any way to connive at the undermining of authority,
and at the same time holds this authority responsible for results. Yet
it does not call for a national mind-reader to extract from the history
of public sentiment the uncomfortable conclusion that the laws and the
press of the country, to a great extent, still harbor their ancient
grudge, and are not prepared to treat railroad managers impartially.
So accustomed have managers become to adverse criticism that they are
now almost tongue-tied on the subject of their duties, and simple
sufferance has become the badge of the fraternity. The manager may
now be likened to a horse, willing and able to trot his distance with
credit to himself and his owners; but behind him, on the box-seat,
sits public opinion, the labor organization at his side. The horse is
willing enough, and eager to work and to do his duty, but every effort
to exert himself or to get into his stride is rewarded with a violent
jerk of the rein. The effect of this treatment on any kind of an animal
can be imagined. That the traveling public should be at the mercy of
a three-cornered management of this nature, is rather remarkable. If
managers nowadays were inclined to be autocratic or overbearing in
matters relating to the public safety, there might be some excuse for
the situation. On the contrary, to most people it will appear that
they have already parted with the best part of their birthright. The
following is the agreement on the subject, in force on nearly all
railroads:--

“Employees shall not be disciplined or dismissed without cause. In
case discipline is thought to be unjust, the employee may refer his
case, in writing, to the superintendent, after which he shall be given
a hearing within seven days. The aggrieved party may be present at
all investigations and may be represented by a fellow employee of the
same class. In the event of this investigation proving unsatisfactory,
the case may be appealed to higher officials in regular order. If the
accused is found blameless, his record will remain as previous thereto,
and he shall receive pay for all time lost.”

Such an agreement will, I think, appear to most people to be remarkably
fair and generous. Unfortunately for the interest of the public, it
approaches the danger point. It is very doubtful if many, or any,
private industrial establishments could be persuaded to sign any such
agreement with their employees. Manifestly it makes a cipher of the
superintendent. But taking our agreement just as it is, the manager
should at least be allowed to manage, and appeal should be limited
to the officials of the road. _The line must be drawn just where
responsibility is wanted and needed._ That the management of a railroad
should invite interference or assistance from grievance committees
or national organizations of labor men, in matters of discipline, is
absurd. The situation has been forced upon them. It has been forced
upon them during “rush hours,” when business was at high tide and
pressure, and when the public was clamoring for its fast trains and for
the prompt delivery of freight. Such are the stormy times on railroads,
when discipline is lax and when concessions are granted at the expense
of the public safety. Blame the management if you will,--the results
and consequences are before us for consideration and remedy. Most of
us understand something about rebates on a shipment of oil or cotton
goods, and about the penalties that are enforced against offenders; but
we do not seem to realize the fact that to-day on our railroads there
are, in actual operation, rebates on the efficiency of the service,
which are being paid for by the people, not in dollars and cents, but
in blood and suffering.

But putting on one side public opinion and its influence on the
efficiency of railroad service, what is the nature of the treatment
that the employee himself, with his eyes wide open and his wits about
him, is willing to give to the management and to the public, when he
has the power and the opportunity to work in a little legislation for
himself? For illustration, let us take what is commonly called the
“Bumping Process.” Of course no management in its right mind would
ever originate or put into service any such suicidal arrangement. From
beginning to end it is a ludicrous, at times a pathetic, commentary on
the seniority rule. It works somewhat in this way:--

On account of slack business, a crew consisting of a conductor and two
or three men is relieved from duty. The conductor immediately looks
over his list and picks out another job to his liking, the holder of
which happens to be his junior in the service. The man who is thus
turned out does the same to some one else, and meanwhile the discharged
brakemen have been “bumping” other brakemen. So it goes on from one
end of the division to the other, until some twenty or thirty men have
been “bumped” out of their accustomed and hard-earned places. Finally,
three or four of the youngest employees are bumped into space, at the
end of the string, and the “bumping” ceases for lack of material. The
management has had absolutely nothing to do with the affair; it can
protect neither its own interests nor those of the public. The whole
business must be looked upon as the natural sequel of the seniority
principle. It is a concession granted during “rush hours,” when bumping
was not anticipated. To understand this thoroughly, let us take a
concrete illustration.

On a certain railroad there is a section, say from X to Y, over which
a local freight train has plied daily for a number of years. Along
this route there are, perhaps, as many as fifty large foundries and
industrial plants, to attend to the requirements of which this local
freight was put on the road. The conductor of this train has attended
to this business with satisfaction to his employers, and to the patrons
of the road, for three or four years. He thoroughly understands the ins
and outs of his route, all about the different switches, side-tracks,
dangerous places, and difficulties that are to be encountered. He is
personally acquainted with the foremen of the different establishments.
He knows just what they want and when they want it; he understands when
and where they want cars loaded and emptied. He has the phraseology of
the different side-tracks on the tip of his tongue. When he arrives at
any little town, his switch list reads something like this:--

“Six for Dublin St.” “Two for Jerrys.” “Three for The Middle.” “Seven
for The Hole.”

[Illustration: A REAR-END COLLISION]

In short, our conductor is the right man in the right place. This
is so not only from a business point of view, but from the social
aspect as well, for he has made a home for himself, and all his social
interests are centred in a little town on this route. But suddenly,
without any warning or reason, he is simply “bumped” out of the job,
and a new man, his senior, from another section of the road, takes his
place. This is an actual occurrence, and it is a sad commentary on the
straits to which some managements are reduced. It shows the seniority
principle run into the ground. It is individualism triumphant. Even to
the whole body of employees it is a distasteful proceeding. The senior
man simply “grabs the job,” and consequently twenty other men are
displaced in rotation, the management remaining silent.

And yet there are men, even in high places, who are prepared to defend
this bumping principle. In studying these railroad matters, and while
calling upon managers of different railroads, I was always anxious to
get the general opinions of the officials. One can usually tell, from
the “atmosphere” in these offices, what can be expected in the way of
treatment of employees and so forth out on the road. It was in order to
get some of these impressions--some of this silent information--that I
called upon the United States Commissioner of Labor in Washington. I
asked him for his opinion of the bumping principle. The commissioner
was outspoken in his defense of the bumping business; in fact, he
wished to know what possible objection there could be to it. In so many
words, and with considerable emphasis, he inquired if it was not a much
more desirable state of affairs that the men should be allowed to pick
out their jobs in this way, than that superintendents should be at
liberty to give the preference to their cousins, their brothers-in-law,
and other incompetents? In fact, managers are not to be trusted. If I
wished for evidence, I could turn to the insurance scandals,--the cream
of the appointments handed over to relatives and good-for-nothings. The
commissioner was also of the opinion that in only too many instances
railroad managers are in the habit of making rules which they know only
too well it is impossible for employees to obey.

In the matter of the operating department, there is an abundance of
evidence of an interesting description. What may in many ways be
called abuse of the management is a national habit of long standing.
In years gone by, this adverse criticism was frequently only too well
merited. But the time has now come, in the interest of the public
safety, for some serious second thought on the subject. That the habit
still persists in the most unexpected quarters, is a matter of easiest
demonstration. At the present day the Interstate Commerce Commission
is the laboratory in which all these railroad questions are ground
up, analyzed, classified, and finally sent out in legal packages for
public consumption. With the idea of getting the “atmosphere” of this
department, I quite recently called upon the secretary. He conducted
me over the premises, introduced me to everybody, and was most kind
and courteous in his attentions. He drew my attention to a dozen or
more framed and illuminated testimonials, with which the walls of his
office were pretty well covered. The tenor of these documents was all
the same. Railroad men, telegraphers, organizations and brotherhoods
of laboring men, from different sections of the country, unanimously
testified to their gratitude to the secretary for his efforts and
success in fighting their battles and winning their victories. In a
word, he was their friend.

Remembering where I was, I thereupon looked about me for testimonials
from railroad officials or corporations. I expected to see evidence
of the secretary’s interest and work in behalf of the manager’s side
of the problem, in relation, for instance, to the bringing of men and
managements together in the interest of the public, for whose use
and benefit, as I look at it, railroads are operated. But in this I
was disappointed. My attention was then called to a number of pens,
perhaps half a dozen, with which sundry bills, in the interests of
labor, had been signed by different presidents. But one side of the
question was emphasized.

Finally, I was introduced into a room in which were seated seven or
eight of the railroad inspectors employed by the commission. I had no
sooner given expression to my views, than I became aware that I was
getting into hot water. With one or two exceptions, these men were of
the opinion that I had taken hold of the wrong end of the problem.
It was pointed out to me that superintendents and managers nowadays
are promoted from the wrong material. The inspectors thought that
the officials were nearly always picked out of the clerical force,
instead of from practical, out-on-the-road men, such as engineers and
conductors. Consequently, in their opinion, the managing departments
all over the country are sadly inefficient. As a result, a general
decapitation of incompetent superintendents is now in order, and is the
one thing needful to secure the greatest possible degree of efficiency
in the railroad service.

For something like ten years altogether I have devoted my spare time to
the study of this safety problem on our railroads. During this period I
have never received a word of advice, or encouragement, or assistance
to the extent of a copper, from any manager or from anybody connected
with the management of railroads. My incentive and encouragement have
proceeded in an entirely different way. Some people are content to
stand on their little pedestals and watch the world go round. The
energies and thoughts of quite a number are absorbed in the climbing
of pay-rolls. Others, again, have sensibilities that must be attended
to. These touches of nature should be cultivated. As the world runs
to-day, “business from the start means, only too often, business to the
finish.” I do not think that the American people, the great business
community, at any rate, realizes either the nature or the extent of
these distressing accidents with sufficient acuteness. In the rush of
affairs, sensibility runs the risk of getting smothered. There is a
tendency to call upon money and machinery to accomplish everything.

Finally, let me add that, apart from my opinions on this railroad
situation, or perhaps in spite of them, I am the heartiest kind of an
optimist. At the present day, such splendid possibilities are latent
in every sphere of thought and action that one almost trembles at
the contemplation of them. Even now, as it seems to me, every man in
his little world may be something of a Prospero, for every righteous
thought is a winged Ariel on highest mission.



VI

THE HUMAN EQUATION


It makes little difference what phase of the situation between labor
and management on American railroads we choose to investigate, the
supreme importance of personality and personal responsibility is
impressed upon us at every turn. As with the safety problem in the
operating department, so with all questions relating to piece-work and
the bonus system,--the principle at stake is not only the absolute
right, but the fundamental obligation, of every man to do his level
best under all circumstances, just as truly and inevitably in the
best interests of a railroad as of human progress and civilization.
The story of the stifling of personality and of the neglect of the
human equation in American industrial life, and on the railroads in
particular, will probably have to be related and insisted upon over
and over again before public opinion can be brought to realize the
widespread nature and importance of the issue.

The principles involved in an ordinary preventable accident on a
railroad can be picked out and followed through different stages of
railroad life, all the way up to the leveling process which, generally
speaking, the labor unions insist upon, in promotion by seniority and
in matters relating to mechanical work in the railroad shops. The steps
in the process are all as plain and unmistakable as the rounds of a
ladder. Let us begin with one of the first appearances or germs of the
trouble.

A freight train is backed into a yard or side-track, and by reason of
rough handling or carelessness a small collision occurs, and several
cars loaded with valuable merchandise are jammed down and off the
end of the track into the swamp. The superintendent investigates
the case and decides that the engineman was guilty of rough and
careless handling. The engineman appeals from this decision, claiming
that a wrong motion was given by the brakeman, or the brakes did
not hold,--anyway he appeals, and his contention is taken up and
supported by his organization. After weeks of discussion and attempted
arbitration, the whole business is quietly dropped, because the men
decline to give in and the management, with the business interests of
a wide section of country in actual peril, are not prepared to tie up
the road and fight the issue to a finish. It is useless to minimize the
widespread effect of this interference. I have given an illustration of
a principle that is at work on all railroads, and, in the way I have
described, the men are furnished with a precedent, and the managers
with a very good idea of the difficulties to be expected in the future.
So the manager now goes to work and orders _bunters_ put up at the
end of these tracks in all yards and sidings. He has been driven to
the conclusion that, although it may be out of his power to teach and
enforce carefulness and personal responsibility, he can nevertheless
put up bunters which, when butted against, will act as practical
reminders in regard to the location of the cars and the duties of the
trainmen.

Although the incident described is merely a figurative illustration,
the _bunter principle_ itself is of widespread application, and to-day
is practically the mainstay and sheet anchor of the American railroad
manager. To a much greater extent than an outsider would imagine,
these bunters, derailing switches, and other mechanical devices for
the protection of life and property, are, in the main, confessions of
weakness and indications that the personality of the men along these
particular lines has been tried and found wanting.

As another illustration of our topic, but of a somewhat different
nature, let us now take a glance at what is usually known as the a
“Nine-Hour Law,”--more especially in its application to telegraph
operators.

Twelve or fifteen hours at a stretch is too long a period for any man
or boy to remain in harness. As I look at it, the primary object of
this law is, or should be, to increase the efficiency of the service.
This is particularly desirable, for the reason that some of the worst
wrecks in the history of railroading have been attributed to sleepy
and careless telegraph operators. But it by no means follows that,
because the law has increased the operator’s pay and shortened his
day’s work, it has also increased his efficiency. You can depend upon
a good man, who works twelve hours at a stretch, while you can place
little reliance upon a shiftless fellow who is called upon to work only
nine. To increase efficiency in any department or industry, you must
touch or act upon personality in some way. This giving of something for
nothing by the United States government is at best a very questionable
proceeding, and it is a pity that the nine-hour law could not have
been framed with at least some reference to merit, attention to duty,
and length of service. The man who works eight hours at high pressure
is much more likely to be overworked, and, generally speaking, is
more worthy of assistance than the twelve-hour man, who may handle on
an average one message per hour, and consequently has difficulty in
keeping awake. Unprejudiced judges are of the opinion that, as framed
at present, the law will have no effect whatever upon the efficiency
of the service. Of course the function of a railroad manager is to
promote efficiency, but laws of this description ignore the usual and
constituted authority and divert the attention of the employees to
their unions and to the national government. But now we will take up
this matter of personality and the human equation from a vastly more
important point of view.

A very serious and somewhat remarkable accident took place quite
recently--an engine attached to a passenger train ran into an open
draw and dropped thirty feet, leaving the tender and four coaches,
containing seventy-five passengers, on the brink. The following day,
in a report of this accident, the Boston “Transcript” quoted President
Tuttle of the Boston & Maine Railroad, as follows:--

“You can’t open that draw, you can’t pull the bolts that block it,
until all signals are set for danger, and they remain at danger while
the draw is open. They do not disappear until the draw is closed and
the signals for a clear track are set. The engineman knew these signals
were there, and he knew what they meant. A railroad may supply every
safety device known to modern science for precaution, it may put in the
perfection of safety appliances for the safety of its passengers and
its stock, but you can’t get by the _human equation_. You’ve got to
stop right there. You can only discharge the man and get another, and,
in turn, he is liable to do the same thing.”

Every word of the above statement of the president of the Boston &
Maine Railroad is true. It is the conclusion of common sense, of the
law, and of the prophets on the subject. And yet the criticism which I
intend to apply to it is most damaging.

It is, alas, only too true that practically very little good is
accomplished by discharging a man who runs a passenger train into an
open draw. It is simply a case of locking the stable door after the
horse has been stolen. But the principle of punishment for offenses of
this nature is universally recognized, and in the matter of railroad
accidents it thus becomes the duty of the managers, supported by
public opinion, to see to it that this punishment is inflicted at the
right time and in the right place. On a railroad, with human life and
much valuable property at stake, a system of discipline that does not
punish for trifles is a mockery. As a practical matter of fact, all
mistakes and accidents, without serious consequences, can be written
down as trifles; and taking the situation in a wide sense, covering
all railroads, it is safe to say that there is no power in the country
to-day that is either able or willing to discipline enginemen for
trifles. When a passenger train has been brought to the brink of a
draw, it is too late a day to apply your prevention method.

The battle in regard to this matter has long ago been fought and
won by the men. The Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers is now in a
position to tire out any board of railroad management in the country.
The statement made in Faneuil Hall by a railroad man, that in rush
times the management will “lap up any schedule that is placed before
them,” was no empty boast. The right of unlimited appeal to be found in
the schedules of the organizations has knocked the ground from under
the superintendent and made the punishment for trifles a practical
impossibility. The public may just as well be informed of the facts
now as later. The men upon whose vigilance and caution the safety of
railroad travel is altogether dependent are not being educated in a
school in which even the rudiments or principles of safety are being
taught or insisted upon. That a great majority of railroad employees
are sound in their habits and thoroughly honest and conscientious in
their intentions, is not open to question; but it is practically the
fault of these good men that the careless individuals are not subject
to discipline, and so cannot be weeded out before the day of reckoning.
But, as a matter of fact, the system is almost as fatal to the best
man as to the worst, and in the words of President Tuttle, “You can
discharge a man and get another, and, in turn, he is liable to do the
same thing.”

Furthermore, however unpalatable the truth may be, it is nevertheless
an unquestionable fact that the American railroad man, above all
others, is most in need of an inflexible system of discipline.
The reasons are obvious. To begin with, the railroad man is a
typical American. He is fearless, quick, clever, and resourceful.
He cuts loose, only too easily, from custom and tradition. He has
supreme confidence in his own individual importance and ability. In
unmistakable quality and quantity he is in possession of the sterling
characteristics that have made the American the most resourceful
antagonist by land or sea, the cleverest designer and inventor, the
most fearless innovator and reformer, and the poorest railroad man,
from the safety standpoint, in the world to-day.

Nothing can be more simple than the explanation of this paradox. In
the mental composition of the American railroad man there is no such
idea or faculty as _dogged obedience_. And yet it must be evident to
the most superficial thinker on this subject that never can there be
any prospect for, or approach to, safety in railroad travel, without
this indispensable ingredient of personal character. It is the _sine
qua non_ of successful railroad operation. “Theirs not to reason why”
is the solution of the safety problem in a single forceful expression.
And yet in a lifetime of railroad service, I can honestly affirm
that I never met more than half a dozen railroad men who had any
conception, either in theory or practice, of this principle of dogged
obedience. Furthermore, I never came across a manager who was big
enough to preach the doctrine, and I am equally certain I have never
read in the newspapers or magazines any widespread expression of public
opinion that would lead a railroad manager to expect public support
and approval of any such principle. Consequently, my argument is an
arraignment not only of the men, the unions, and the managements, but
of the manifest opinion and public policy of the American people. The
price that is being paid in tribute to this lack of dogged obedience
and its attendant evils is graphically emphasized in the Twenty-first
Annual Report of the Interstate Commerce Commission, issued December
23, 1907, as follows:--

“Accidents to trains on the railroads in the United States continue to
occur in such large numbers that the record, as has been repeatedly
declared by conservative judges, is a world-wide reproach to the
railroad profession in America.”

That the men should lack the faculty I speak of is not, under the
circumstances, so very surprising; but that a great many railroad
managers, as well, should remain uncertain and doubtful as to its
fundamental importance, is by no means so easy to understand. Some time
ago the writer of this essay received in writing, from the head of
the operating department of one of our largest railroad systems, the
following question:--

“Is it not equally essential that the meaning of and reason for a rule
should be evident on its face as that the rule itself, that is, its
wording, should be plain and unmistakable?”

My reply was as follows:--

“By no means. From the safety standpoint the order itself is primary;
the reason for its being in the time-table is secondary. Is it not very
significant that the principle of dogged obedience should be open to
question on a railroad, while, in the case of a city ordinance or a
state law, no liberty of thought or action in such matters is tolerated
for a minute?”

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

In our time-tables we have a rule for the guidance of enginemen on
what are called “helping engines,” which reads something like this:
“Never hang up the numbers of the train you are going to help on your
headlight, until you are actually hitched on to said train.” The reason
for this rule does not appear on its face, and yet the rigid necessity
for dogged obedience in regard to it will at once be understood, when
we study its origin.

About twenty years ago, while working as telegraph operator at East
Deerfield, Mass., I received a telegram ordering an extra engine out
of the round-house to help a regular freight train, No. 94, which was
expected in from the east. Meanwhile the helping engine stood waiting
on a siding with “94” displayed on its headlight. Before long an extra
or “wild” freight train from the west, with orders to meet No. 94 at
East Deerfield on single track, came along, and, mistaking the engine
with “94” on its headlight for the regular train, kept on its way
without stopping. No. 94 and this wild freight met in a cut, and “piled
up” in probably the worst “head-on” freight collision in the history of
the old Fitchburg Railroad.

Every rule in the time-table has its history written in suffering and
dollars; and while, of course, it is advisable for employees to be
conversant with their meaning and significance, it is evident that the
principle of dogged obedience is the only safe method for employees to
pursue in regard to them. An inflexible enforcement of this principle
would be looked upon as little short of tyranny; and yet, seriously
and fairly considered, it is nothing but the subordination which
every railroad man owes to the community in the interest of safety
and general efficiency. That the organizations of railroad men do
not insist upon, or even countenance, this absolute subordination
to authority, is thoroughly understood by every man and manager in
the service. We are all tarred with the same brush, and rather than
acknowledge the weakness of our position, we prefer to keep calling
on the public to pay the penalty. It is time to call a halt when the
liberty and liberal views of a few endanger the safety of the many.

But in passing from this branch of my subject, I wish to call attention
to an almost unnoticed fact in regard to the efficiency of railroad
service. Taking an accident bulletin, issued by the Interstate Commerce
Commission, at random, I copy the following:--

“The total number of collisions and derailments during April, May,
and June, 1907, was 3777, of which 220 collisions and 221 derailments
affected passenger trains. The damage to cars, engine, and roadway by
these accidents amounted to $3,232,673.”

This report, treating as it does exclusively of collisions and
derailments, is serious enough, but the note that is appended to it is
the significant feature of the situation:--

“Collisions and derailments which cause no death or personal injury,
and which cause not over $150.00 damage to the property of the
railroad, are not reported.”

Seeing that the public should be in possession of all the facts in
regard to efficiency of service, it occurs to me that a list of narrow
escapes and of collisions and derailments which cause no deaths or
personal injury, would make very interesting reading. These are the
very “trifles” to which I have already called attention. They are the
seed from which we reap our crop of disasters. They are well worth
reporting and paying attention to, and no annual or other statement of
the situation on the railroad is worth much if it fails to recognize
the significance of this feature.

But apart from the influence and power of the railroad organization
upon the individuality and personal conduct of its members in relation
to train wrecks and discipline, there is another branch of the topic
that is perhaps still more interesting, from a human and national point
of view.

Comparatively speaking, public attention has been but slightly directed
in any specific way to the matter of accidents to employees on American
railroads. It is certainly one of the most distressing features to be
studied in connection with the safety problem. Collisions, derailments,
defective hand-holds and brake apparatus, and the like, cause injuries
to great numbers of employees. For example, at Haverhill, N. H., the
other day, five employees were instantly killed, through the alleged
carelessness or oversight of a fellow employee. Such instances, of
course, are particularly painful topics for discussion among railroad
men, and yet this is the kind of an accident one reads about in the
newspapers almost daily. But in twenty-four hours the reading public
will forget the very worst of these accidents to employees. Their
frequency takes the edge off their significance. During the year 1907,
on a single American railroad, 104 employees were killed outright,
and 3575 were injured. The cost of these accidents to the railroad in
question was something like $285,000. With an employers’ liability law
in force and operation, as in countries abroad, the increase in total
paid to employees alone on this road would have carried the aggregate
to half a million dollars. The magnitude and importance of the safety
problem in relation to employees is still more evident when we consider
that for the year ending June 30, 1907, the casualty list on American
railroads shows a total of all persons killed, from all causes, of
5000, and injured 72,286; the totals for employees alone being 4353
killed and 62,687 injured.

The following figures in regard to actual train accidents and the
casualties resulting therefrom show a rather discouraging state of
affairs, from the fact that the employees themselves were in the main
responsible for them. In 1904 the killed and injured employees in train
accidents numbered 7834; in 1905, 7850; in 1906, 8362; and in 1907,
9935. As with all other items, so with accidents to employees, the
total of casualties has largely increased year by year.

But one of the most distressing features to be considered in connection
with accidents to employees, whether caused by their own carelessness
or otherwise, is the absolute indifference with which news and
statistics of such casualties _appear_ to be received by the average
railroad man. So far as an impartial investigator would be able to
discover, “It’s too bad” is about the limit of criticism and action in
such matters. The indifference I call attention to, so far as the minds
of the employees are concerned, is not real, and the actual reason and
history of the seeming neglect can easily be located and analyzed.

[Illustration: WHAT COMES FROM A MISPLACED SWITCH]

The railroad employee, as a unit, is whole-souled and sympathetic; not
a suspicion of indifference can be imputed to him, either as a man or
as a brother. Individually speaking, when a passenger or an employee
is injured, there is no sorrow like his sorrow; but, unfortunately,
the organizations or machines through which alone his desires and
sympathies can be expressed, have never shown any disposition to
interest themselves in any practical way in matters relating to the
safety of the public, or of the employees, _whenever such interest is
liable to develop into a probe of the conduct and efficiency of the
railroad man_. The heads of the national organizations of railroad
men, with particular reference to those connected with the operating
department, occupy positions that are usually three-quarters political.
The wishes and sentiments of great majorities of employees on certain
railroads can be, and have been, set aside by the political shake of
the head of one man in Washington or Chicago. The acquiescence of the
rank and file in this state of affairs is paid for in legislation and
concessions. Nevertheless, from the human and social point of view,
it would seem as if the organizations, or men-machines as we may call
them, should bestir themselves in this matter of accidents to their
members. In order to do this, coöperation with the management is
necessary; so the following questions very naturally arise:--

By consultation, or otherwise, has any personality been put into the
business? Have our organizations ever said to their members, “Come,
boys, let us reason together: when a man runs a signal, or disobeys
orders, it is a disgrace to our machine. In reality we, the employees,
are the principal stock-holders in a railroad. When passengers, or our
own members, are killed or injured, we have to pay a large proportion
of the bill. We pay in loss of prestige and character, and every time
one of us makes a mistake, it is a blot on our ’scutcheon. We should
see to it that this matter is made personal to every member of our
organization. We should coöperate with managers in locating the blame
for these accidents, and, without regard to consequences, we should
insist upon the removal of offenders.”

Is there any evidence to show that this is the actual state of affairs?
If so, I have yet to meet a man who is aware of it. But, on the other
hand, if no such influence is being exerted by the organizations,
in all candor, and in the name of public safety, I ask, why not?
For, right here, the public puts in its appearance and the following
additional question must forthwith be answered:--

Are our organizations prepared to say to the public, “We are sorry,
but the fact is, our machine is constructed purely upon selfish
principles. Our time and efforts are exclusively occupied in fencing
with the management. When passengers, even our own brothers, are
killed, it is up to the superintendent every time. Let him change the
rules if he thinks fit, but according to precedent and the rules of our
organization in such cases, we are not expected to show any signs of
sympathy or humanity. Consequently, to all interests apart from what
may be called the political welfare of the whole machine, we are deaf,
dumb, and blind?”

Is this an overdrawn picture? I think not. It is simply a truthful
matter-of-fact description of railroad organizations, from whose
calculations and behavior the personal and sympathetic element in
regard to these safety questions has been eliminated.

But now, widening our horizon a little, we have next to take note
that these questions of personal character, personal responsibility,
and unhampered personal effort, are real and intense problems for
thoughtful people to study, not only in relation to preventable
accidents, but in every department of railroad life.

Some time ago, in an issue of the “Engineering Magazine,” a note
of warning was sounded against the result of certain American
manufacturing methods. It was pointed out that the principle of
securing the largest output of uniform character, at minimum cost,
made automata of the operatives, and discouraged skilled and trained
artisans to so great an extent that the quality of the men to-day,
for lack of proper inspiration, was generally poor and unreliable.
According to the opinion expressed in the article that I refer to,
many American manufacturers are beginning to realize the necessity of
attracting men of high character to their employ, of surrounding them
with an environment tending towards sobriety, integrity, and industry,
and rewarding them according to their efforts, in order to avoid the
effects of this so-called “American tendency.”

That American methods of conducting business should be considered
retrogressive, on account of lack or poverty of inspiration, certainly
points to unhealthy conditions somewhere. If these American tendencies
can be shown to have the effect of discouraging individual effort
and the natural growth and ambition of the worker on railroads or
elsewhere, the matter certainly calls for serious attention. To say
the least of it, it betokens a very peculiar state of affairs, for
the reason that if there be one characteristic that more than another
distinguishes the American citizen from the rest of the world, it is
his freedom of personal action, his propensity for striking new and
unexplored trails in almost every branch of research, industry, and
invention. The American is _par excellence_ the world’s inventor. And
yet, without the utmost liberty of thought and action, an inventor
would cut but a sorry figure. It follows, therefore, that any
curtailment of or interference with these distinctively American gifts
and instincts will, as they say, bear watching.

Quite a number of years ago an American firm secured a contract for
the erection of a large factory somewhere near Manchester, England.
The contractor soon discovered that no persuasion or encouragement
would induce the British workman to lay more than a certain number of
bricks per hour, according to the fixed law and schedule of his union.
In order to complete the work within the allotted time, the contractor
was compelled to send for American bricklayers. These men, who were
paid according to their industry and personal effort, were able to
lay four bricks to the Englishman’s one. The American could beat the
Englishman four to one, not because he was, to that extent, a cleverer
and quicker workman, but because at that time and place he was a free
man. Transferred to American shops and factories, and in a different
atmosphere, the foreign workman easily adapts himself to conditions and
is able to hold his own.

According to the writer in the “Engineering Magazine,” American
manufacturers are taking measures to stimulate and revive the principle
of individual effort, in order to secure excellence in workmanship;
but, according to other authorities, these efforts are being
counteracted by the labor unions on the railroads and elsewhere, which
appear to be following in the footsteps and adopting the methods of the
British organizations. However, the ideas and ideals of many wide-awake
manufacturers and managers have found practical exemplification in
various manufacturing establishments, as well as in railroad shops in
different parts of the country.

Perhaps the best field for a short consideration of this interesting
subject, so far as railroads are concerned, is to be found on the Santa
Fé Railroad system. The introduction of the individual-effort reward or
bonus system of stimulating employees to extra or unusual effort, and
of compensating them suitably therefor, is probably the most important
of all the betterment work on this railroad. The inauguration of the
system followed the strike of the machinists, boiler-makers, and
blacksmiths, in May, 1904. The credit for its introduction on the Santa
Fé is due to Mr. J. W. Kendrick, Second Vice-President. Mr. Charles
H. Fry, associate editor of the “Railroad Gazette,” who has written a
valuable and comprehensive report of this betterment work, gives the
following as its principal features and objects:--

“To restore and promote cordial relations, based on mutual respect and
confidence, between employer and employee;

“To restore the worker to himself by freeing him from the small and
debasing tyrannies of petty and arbitrary officials on the one side,
and from individuality-destroying union domination on the other;

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

“To increase automatically, and without fixed limit, the pay of good
men, this increase of pay depending on themselves and not on their
immediate superiors;

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

“To increase the reliability of work turned out and the efficiency of
operation performed;

“To do all these things, not only without cost to the company, but with
a marked reduction in its expenses.”

The programme was certainly ambitious and praiseworthy, and in Mr.
Fry’s report the results, after a thorough trial extending over several
years, are given in the following paragraph:--

“It can safely be said that the betterment work _has_ resulted as
anticipated in restoring harmony between employer and employee, in
restoring self-respect to the latter and increasing his efficiency and
reliability. Also it has raised his wages ten to twenty per cent on
the average. In addition, for every dollar of supervising and special
expense incurred, the company has saved at least ten dollars in reduced
costs.”

But just here two very important points require to be noticed and
emphasized. In the operations of a railroad, efficiency must never
be sacrificed for the sake of economy, and on the Santa Fé Railroad,
when questions arise in which there is even the remote possibility of
impairment of efficiency, all economical propositions or arrangements
are at once postponed or vetoed altogether. Again, it is manifest that
as a result of the improved methods and greater individual effort,
certain reductions in working force will become possible. In regard to
this matter the Santa Fé management claims that such reduction, when
necessary, can easily be effected, simply by not replacing men who
naturally drop out. This has been their uniform policy, and therefore,
from their point of view, there is no possible ground for objection by
employees on that score.

The individual-effort reward system on the Santa Fé thus far has been
limited to the maintenance of equipment and to locomotive operation.
The labor employed in the shops is, of course, distinctly non-union.
The saving effected under these methods on tools and machinery alone,
at Topeka, was $119,000, and the total economy on 1633 locomotives
(repairs and renewals) for the year 1906 amounted to $1,737,626. These
facts and figures are derived from a comparison of the cost of actual
and identically similar work before and after the inauguration of the
bonus system.

It is impossible at this time to enter into a minute explanation or
description of the system which is to-day in actual operation on
the Santa Fé Railroad, and under which satisfactory results, both
to employer and employee, are being obtained. The work itself is
notable not so much because of its economical results as on account
of its moral and sociological aspects. Without taking any side in the
questions at all, it is evident that the movement and work on the Santa
Fé, from beginning to end, has been an appeal to individual effort and
character, and a protest against the recognized ideals of the labor
unions. But it will not be found necessary to go into details of the
Santa Fé system in order to illustrate and emphasize the principles
that are at stake and the nature of the problem that must, before long,
be settled, one way or the other, by an educated and enlightened public
opinion.

On the Santa Fé Railroad, prior to the installation of the bonus
system, a vast number of time-studies had to be made and schedules
prepared. Every operation or piece of work to be bonused had to be
studied by competent men, to determine, from the machine and other
conditions, a fair or standard time to apply to it. Thousands of such
studies have been made at the Topeka shops, and properly recorded and
preserved on regular blanks.

The following illustrations are only partially descriptive of the
Santa Fé method, but they are sufficiently accurate to cover the
principles involved, the benefits that are derived from them, and some
of the objections which have been advanced by the union men on the
railroads, who are opposed to the bonus system in any form.

You take a certain piece of machinery, say a part of a locomotive. You
make a “study” of this part. After making one hundred tests, under all
sorts of conditions, you make a schedule in your machine-shop for this
particular operation or piece of work. You then fix upon a standard
time for doing this work. Standard time is simply the time which it
ought reasonably to take to do the work without killing effort, but by
eliminating every unnecessary waste. The elimination of waste is the
fair and square proposition you present to your workman. You say to
him, “Make a standard time on this piece of machinery, and I will pay
you twenty per cent above your hourly rate, that is, above your regular
pay. If you take more than standard time, your bonus will diminish
until at fifty per cent above standard time it will simply merge
into your day rate. On the other hand, if less than standard time is
taken, your bonus will increase above twenty per cent. But, under any
conditions or circumstances, you will always receive your full day’s
wage.”

The situation becomes still plainer, if you explain it to your workman
in this way. You say to him, “During the past year I have watched your
work closely, and made hundreds of ‘studies’ in regard to the ‘part’
you turn out with that machine. I find that you have averaged about
six to the hour. Now I am convinced that you can just as well turn out
seven. Your pay is now $2.50 per day; if in the future you can make
seven instead of six of these ‘parts’ in an hour, I will pay you $3.00
per day. In fact, your pay will increase in exact proportion to your
cleverness and industry. Furthermore, if by any manner or means you can
invent a way, such, for instance, as an improvement in the mechanism or
in the operation of your machine whereby you are enabled to turn out a
dozen of these ‘parts’ in an hour, I will see to it that your pay is
increased accordingly, without any limit whatever.”

Continuing our general illustration, we will now take it for granted
that you are able to start this bonus system in your factory or shop,
in which, under ordinary circumstances, you give employment to one
hundred union men. At the end of a certain period you find, on account
of the extra effort put forth by the most ambitious and cleverest men,
that the number of these “parts” which you require in your business,
or on your railroad, can easily be turned out by seventy-five men. So
without delay you reduce the working force in your shop accordingly.
It matters not how you do this, whether by simple discharge or by
omitting to fill vacancies as they occur in a natural way, the fact
remains that at the end of the year you have decreased your force
twenty-five per cent, and besides, without adding to your equipment,
you have made a substantial reduction in your operating expenses.

Meanwhile the men who have lost their jobs have lodged a complaint with
their union, and you are soon confronted with a grievance committee.
These gentlemen inform you that the bonus system is all wrong, from
beginning to end. From the union standpoint they will explain to you
that the idea is, not to offer a reward for quickest and best work,
nor to encourage the best men to get rich quick, or to vaunt their
superiority over their duller and less fortunate comrades, but to
make the job, whatever it may be, last as long as possible, and thus
to afford employment to the greatest number of workers, at a fair and
fixed rate of wages to every individual, regardless of ability or
ambition, or of the profits and interests of the establishment. You are
further informed that the grievance committee cannot enter into the
discussion of ethical and sociological questions. The race is doing
pretty well as a whole, and posterity will accord to labor its due
share of credit. Meanwhile the men will be called out of your shop, and
the issue between the bonus system of reward for individual effort and
the leveling process in shop-work will be fought to a finish.

Take another illustration: You make a great many “studies” in relation
to the use of oil and other supplies on a locomotive on your railroad.
You arrive at a fair standard of expense. You conclude there must
be considerable waste going on somewhere, so you say to the engine
crews, “So much per month is a fair average of expense for such and
such tools and supplies on your engine. If you can lower this average,
we will share the amount saved in this way.” So you put the system
in force on one thousand locomotives and save thereby four thousand
dollars per month, which you divide with the men. But in doing this you
have increased the pay of the careful men, and done nothing for those
who are not interested in the general welfare of your railroad. The
grievance committee takes the matter up with you; it protests against
the whole business, and puts forth the argument that it is a dangerous
proceeding, for you are guilty of encouraging a certain class of men
to let engines “run hot” in order that they may secure your bonus for
economy. In a word, you are requested to put a stop to this phase of
your bonus system on the railroad.

Regardless of my somewhat crude and incomplete method of explaining the
working of a bonus system on a railroad, my illustrations afford a
very good idea of the Santa Fé system, which is in successful operation
at the present day, as well as the proposed plans of the New York, New
Haven & Hartford management, which quite recently the labor unions
compelled the railroad to abandon.

But apart from successful operation in one quarter and defeat in
another, the principles at stake in this bonus system are of world-wide
interest and importance. Bearing this in mind, a few direct and
pertinent questions have occurred to me, which I submit for the
thoughtful consideration of my fellow workers on the railroads, as well
as of liberty-loving people everywhere.

In the interest of human progress, and in particular with a view to
efficiency of railroad service, do you think a railroad man should be
permitted and encouraged to do his level best under all circumstances?
Would you recognize and promote individual effort and good work in your
sawmill, if you owned one, for the good of the business and in the
interest of your pocketbook? Would you recognize and promote individual
effort, attention to duty, and efficiency of service on a railroad,
understanding, as you do, that upon these personal characteristics the
welfare of the railroad and the safety of the traveling public are
almost wholly dependent? Again, would you hesitate to encourage and
reward the economical administration of the affairs of your own town
or your sawmill, for fear lest the departments or the machinery might
be deliberately ruined by employees, or by your fellow townsmen, in
their efforts to secure said reward and encouragement?

If, after painstaking experiment, you become convinced that the plan
would result in benefit to the interests of both management and
men, would you hesitate to offer a bonus, or reward on coöperative
principles, as an incentive to the economical use of supplies on a
locomotive, for fear lest unprincipled engine crews should play tricks
with the engine in order to secure the bonus?

Furthermore, if the encouragement of the best men and the best service
can be shown to work against the interests of second-class men and
poorer service, would you be willing, on a railroad, to sacrifice these
second-class men and their interests, in so far as this action should
become necessary, to secure the greatest possible efficiency for the
safeguarding of the traveling public?

Finally, in the history of the development and civilization of the
human race, is it possible to point to a single item of real progress,
efficiency, or achievement, that has not been the direct result of
the sacrifice of something below to the more important interests of
something above?

Does it not therefore follow that any legislation or labor movement
that has the effect of checking individual effort, or of interfering
in any way with the free play of the best that is in any man, must
necessarily reduce the standard and ideals of labor? for such movements
are an inversion of the laws of progress, and at the same time a
reflection on the best thought and tradition of the American people.



VII

DISCIPLINE


At the present day, public attention is being constantly aroused
and focused upon all questions that immediately concern the general
welfare of the people. In this way the efficiency of the service on
American railroads has, of late, been freely discussed, not only by
railroad men, but by thoughtful people in all the walks of life. The
reason for this universal interest is to be found in the fact that an
inquiry into an ordinary preventable railroad accident entails, at
the same time, a study of the actual working conditions that exist in
America between the rights and interests of the workingman, and the
more important rights and interests of the general public. Of course,
figures and tables in regard to efficiency of service cannot always
be taken at their face value, and yet the conclusions that one is
sometimes compelled to draw from them are altogether too significant to
be lightly dismissed from the public mind.

For example, in the year 1906, a total of 1,200,000,000 passengers
was carried on British railroads on 27,000 miles of track, against
800,000,000 passengers carried on American railroads on a mileage of
200,000. Generally speaking, collisions and derailments form quite
a reliable standard from which to make comparisons in regard to
efficiency of service. It must also be remembered that the chances
for accidents are naturally increased with increase of traffic and
consequent multiplication of train movements. One might reasonably
expect, therefore, to find the density of conditions in Great Britain
reflected in a startling list of fatalities, as compared with the
United States. Yet if we take the year 1906 to illustrate our theories
and anticipated conclusions, we find that there were 13,455 collisions
and derailments in this country, and only 239 in Great Britain. In the
same year 146 passengers were killed and 6000 injured in the United
States, against 58 passengers killed and 631 injured in Great Britain.
The number of employees killed and injured in train accidents was
respectively 13 and 140 in Great Britain, against 879 and 7483 in this
country.

[Illustration: DOWN AN EMBANKMENT IN WINTER]

It is not surprising, therefore, that figures and returns like the
above, repeated from year to year with the same marked and, indeed,
ever-increasing disparity, should give rise to widespread discussion
and criticism, consequently leading up to a better understanding of the
nature of the problem that is now submitted, with all necessary facts
and illustrations, practically for the first time, to the American
people. For it must be understood, to begin with, that, from its very
nature and from the circumstances connected with the safety problem,
the intervention of public opinion and of some kind of public action
is imperatively called for. Numerous difficulties, mistakes, and
inconsistencies relating to the handling of trains, to the conduct of
employees, and to the present status of the railroad manager, have been
exposed and explained during the course of these confessions. But,
after all, these are merely side issues and details of the service;
the real heart of the situation, as insisted upon from first to last
in these pages, is significantly outlined in a recent issue of the
“Engineering Magazine,” as follows:

“Even more serious, as a predisposing cause of railroad accidents,
is the lamentable lack of discipline, which is becoming increasingly
manifest in these days of labor-union interference. This has been
carried to such a point that the officials of our railroads have
no longer that direct control of the employees which is absolutely
essential to the maintenance of discipline. Until this condition has
been changed it is hopeless to look for any material reduction in the
number of killed and injured on our railroads.”

Such, then, being the truthful and logical diagnosis of the situation,
the final and most important question of all remains to be considered.
From individuals in no way connected with railroad life, as well as
from employees and managers in different sections of the country, the
general interest in the matter has been expressed in the following
inquiries: “What are you now going to do about it? Granting this and
granting that, what is your plan of construction or reconstruction?
What can you propose as a practical method of reform?”

After a careful review and consideration of the conditions that obtain
on American railroads at the present day, these significant and final
questions, in the opinion of the writer, must all be answered in terms
of _external authority_. It is really too bad to have to come to the
conclusion that no reform can be expected, or indeed is possible,
from within. The men, the organizations, and the managements must
now be called upon to submit to publicity and to correction, to be
administered by the stern arm of the law. A proper adjustment of the
interests of the men and the management, with a view to the safety of
travel, is, under present conditions, absolutely impossible.

Ample opportunity and time have been afforded these parties to solve
the safety problem between themselves, without outside interference.
The Canadian government has already come to the conclusion that it is
useless to wait any longer, and accordingly it has taken measures to
safeguard the rights of the traveling public. In like manner, just
as soon as the government of the United States arrives at the same
conclusion and sees fit to designate carelessness on a railroad as a
crime, punishable in the same way as carelessness in driving horses or
automobiles on a crowded thoroughfare, a revolution will take place in
the service on American railroads. When the management and the men are
called upon to face public examination and public criticism, there will
be no more hair-splitting in the interpretation and administration of
discipline. The men and the management will then very quickly recognize
the necessity of adjusting their differences and combining their forces
in the interests of the public. In a word, _authority_ will become
supreme, and it will not take long for it to assert itself in terms of
effectual discipline. Such, according to my view of it, is the only
possible solution of the safety problem on American railroads.

All other topics and questions, although closely related to the
problem, are in reality merely matters of detail. For example, the lack
of adequate supervision means, of course, unchecked negligence, and
points the way to no end of trouble; and yet the most comprehensive
system of supervision imaginable would be of little use, unsupported
by a reasonable and effective system of discipline. While, therefore,
my opinion as to the immediate necessity for the intervention of the
national government holds good, a general description of the American
method of discipline, upon which the efficiency of the service is,
in the mean time, absolutely dependent, should nevertheless prove
interesting to all classes of readers.

To a great extent, a system of discipline represents a state of mind,
the ideals of an individual or of a community, and sometimes, under
certain special conditions, an economical habit or business necessity.
In the old countries of Europe, where the public interests smother
individual rights as well as the schedules of labor organizations, the
railroads have taken for their motto, “He that sinneth shall die.”
Cassio, faithful and true, with an honorable and spotless record in
the public service, falls from grace in an unguarded moment, and is
sorrowfully yet absolutely doomed to dismissal by the high-minded
Othello. “Nevermore be officer of mine.” Such in spirit, and, to a
great extent, in actual railroad life, is the European interpretation
of discipline. The European officials work upon the plan, and with
the unswerving determination to protect the traveling public at all
costs. The record of accidents on their railroads leaves little doubt
as to the correctness of their methods of railroading. On the other
hand, in the United States, the railroad manager, backed to a certain
extent by public opinion, says to an offending employee, “Your sin has
enlightened and purified you, go back to your job.” This is the mental
method of discipline. A man is called upon to think, without at the
same time being called upon to feel.

On a railroad nowadays, when a “green” man makes a mistake, he is
quietly informed by his superintendent that five or ten demerit marks
have been placed against his name on the record book. The shock he
receives on the commission of his first mistake is not very striking.
He has perhaps been called upon to think, but in order to give his
thoughts pungency and direction, he should also have been called
upon to feel. Good habits are induced by feeling plus thought much
more surely and expeditiously than by thought alone. Feeling plus
thought is the scientific route. Some day, perhaps, thought alone
will prove sufficient, but a railroad is no place to experiment with
Utopian possibilities. What is necessary is the best and quickest way
to originate good habits. The whole nervous system in man is first
organized by habit. The feeling plus thought method of discipline is
humane as well as scientific, and is the most potent instigator and
prompter of habit.

According to Webster, discipline is “subjection to severe and
systematic training.” In the American method of discipline on
railroads, there is no systematic training of any kind; sensation or
feeling plays no part in it, and thought is left to take care of itself.

Theoretically, the mental process has a good deal to be said in its
favor; but in actual operation the system has proved to be disastrous,
and the records on American railroads illustrate only too eloquently
the fallacy of the principle, under any conditions, where human lives
are at stake. It is simply a question between the ethics and philosophy
of Portia, and the blind impartiality of Othello as applied to the
railroad business. In social affairs and in relation to conduct between
individuals, the standards of Portia are gracious and commendable;
but on a battleship, in the army, and just as surely on a railroad,
the services of the rugged Othello will be found at all times to be
the most effectual. In the United States, however, there is a certain
altruistic sentiment that would fain submerge the ethics and principles
of the old-time disciplinarian. Not only does this criticism apply
to affairs on a railroad, but our educational methods, in every
direction, seem to be threatened with the same peril. On all sides
there now appears to be a disinclination to use authority. There seems
to be something in the nature of a national kick against constraint
or discipline of any kind. The ideals and rugged characteristics of
American manhood, both on railroads and in our schools, are threatened
with the coddling process.

Within the last ten or fifteen years, many railroads have changed or
modified their system of discipline, as a tribute, in part, to this
popular sentiment. Perhaps in making these changes the managers did the
best they could under the circumstances. They found themselves fast
losing the backing and authority necessary to enforce the old system,
and the new method was at least a working arrangement with harmony for
its basis.

A great majority of the railroads of the United States are now using
some sort of a merit system in the administration of discipline.
Most of these methods are adaptations of the Brown system, which
was invented by Mr. G. R. Brown, at one time vice-president of the
Pennsylvania. Brown figured it out for himself, while he was taking all
the steps from trainman up, on the Fall Brook Railroad; and when he got
to be general manager he put it in on his road. The system, as modified
by most of the roads, is a sort of bookkeeping, with debits and credits
in the shape of marks, to the account of each man. Generally speaking,
a perfect record for any term of years may not be entered as a credit
item in the book, although conspicuous instances of heroism or devotion
to duty are sometimes noted. But a perfect record for a certain period
will wipe out previous debits. An employee has access to his record
book at any time, otherwise the record is kept in absolute secrecy.
On some roads “rolls of honor” are kept and published, usually in the
railroad magazines. The names of the men, together with an account of
the meritorious action, receive special mention. But, on the other
hand, there is no mention, either of names or particulars, in regard to
the debits when employees make mistakes.

Railroad managers appear to be satisfied with this Brown system of
discipline, and the statement has repeatedly appeared in the public
prints that the adoption of these rules has resulted in better service
to the companies. So far as the safety of travel and the general
efficiency of the service are concerned, the figures and reports issued
periodically by the Interstate Commerce Commission are calculated to
convey a very different impression. Railroad officials inform us that
the Brown system is an attempt to promote good feeling between the men
and the management. This is doubtless true, but the statement lets
the cat out of the bag. The employee appreciates the fact that the
sting is extracted from a reprimand when it is administered in secret.
Doubtless, if the sole aim has been to secure harmonious relations
between men and management, little fault can be found with the Brown
system; but it appears in a somewhat different light when we study it
in relation to the safety problem.

For example, a man makes a serious mistake, without actual injury to
persons or damage to property. He is punished to the extent of ten
demerit marks. In the course of a few months five or six other men
commit the same mistake. In every instance a secret record of the
mistake has been kept. When a mistake remains unchecked, sooner or
later it arrives at the epidemic stage and reaches its climax in a
wreck, and then finally a man is discharged for it. The demerit marks
have had no corrective or preventive effect whatever. Under this system
the trouble is allowed to evolve in a natural way, from a simple case
of unchecked negligence into a disaster in which, perhaps, a community
is called upon to suffer.

On the other hand, a system that takes publicity and the pocketbook for
its principal factors enlists every corrective element in its favor.
You cannot separate suspension and loss of pay from publicity, to a
certain degree. In all systems of punishment or correction, in a police
court or elsewhere, there are usually two or three elements that are
depended upon to bring about beneficial results. These factors are
the shame that is attached to the publication of names, the pecuniary
loss in the shape of a fine, and the danger of imprisonment. The Brown
system has abolished publicity and done away with pecuniary loss. The
employee is now aware that no one can touch his pocketbook, no one can
wound his pride, or hold him up as an example to his fellows. Of course
it is too bad that a railroad man should be called upon to take his
discipline home with him, that his wife and children should have to
share the shame and the penalty; and yet the decisions of courts and of
human tribunals everywhere are all subject to the same criticism.

The Brown system, in a modified form, is to-day the American method;
and while its supposed primary object may be to increase efficiency,
its actual working is all in the interests of harmony between the men
and management. The proof of the efficiency of any system of discipline
is to be found in the freedom from accidents of all sorts. Within the
last few months, I have heard railroad managers who heartily approve
of the Brown system, deplore in the same breath the alarming increase
of accidents. One of these gentlemen went so far as to inform me that
it is the only possible system, so long as the men and the political
influence of the organizations are allowed to control the situation.

The men very much prefer to take punishment on the installment plan,
in the dark, to any settlement on a cash basis in open and above-board
fashion. Discipline in the dark, on the installment plan, has all
the facts, experience, and records of the past and present, and the
probabilities of the future, arrayed against it. When you ask the
manager how it happens that the United States does not recognize the
efficacy of the mental method on the installment plan, and treat
_him_ as the Brown system treats the employees, he merely shrugs
his shoulders. When an infraction of the “safety-appliance law” or
the “nine-hour law” is brought home to a manager, the action of the
government or the law recognizing the superior efficacy of the mental
treatment might reasonably be expected to say to him, “I give you
ten demerit marks. Your mistake has enlightened and purified you;
go back to your desk.” A manager is surely as susceptible to mental
influence and suggestion as an engineman or a conductor. Yet there is
not a suspicion of the Brown system of discipline in the actual fines
and imprisonment which the government has agreed upon as the best
and quickest way to enforce obedience in the interests of the public
welfare.

The general introduction of the Brown system on American railroads has
been brought about by the “irritation” of the men when their pay or
their time has been interfered with. This was, in general, the power
that gave the impetus and encouragement to the movement.

The exact amount of “irritation” in loss of money to employees for one
month has been figured out by one railroad, as follows:--

                   _Engineers_
  Discharged     4   Merits                       0
  Demerits     455   Amount saved to the men  $1706

                   _Firemen_
  Discharged     2   Merits                      10
  Demerits    1265   Amount saved to the men   $263

                  _Conductors_
  Discharged     4   Merits                      10
  Demerits     485   Amount saved to the men  $1523

                  _Operators_
  Discharged    10   Merits                       0
  Demerits     310   Amount saved to the men   $514

                  _Trainmen_
  Discharged    21   Merits                       0
  Demerits     696   Amount saved to the men  $1553

That is to say, a certain number of men had been awarded “demerits” for
offenses instead of suspension with loss of pay, which in one month
would have amounted to $5559. Of course, most of this amount would have
been earned by spare men, but this consideration by no means allays the
“irritation” of the regular men.

Multiply this irritation by the number of railroads in the United
States, and the Brown system of discipline is accounted for. From the
safety point of view, the greater the “irritation” the more evident
becomes the necessity for some system calculated to control and put a
stop to the negligence that produces the irritation. The Brown system
very effectively allays this irritation at the expense of the public
safety, by treating the negligence as a matter of secondary importance.

But although the Brown system and its modifications may reasonably
be termed the American method, nevertheless here and there one comes
across an instance of an American railroad that has discarded it and
adopted a radically different method, with exceedingly satisfactory
results. One of the roads that has broken away from the Brown system is
the Chicago & Alton.

A few months ago, while in Bloomington, Ill., the writer paid a visit
to what is termed “The C. & A. Stereopticon Car.” So far as I am aware,
there are only two or three of these cars on American railroads. The
car is, in fact, a training school and lecture hall for the benefit of
the employees. Mr. Perdue, the man in charge, is a veteran employee
of over thirty years’ experience, extending over practically every
department of railroad life. In order to enter the service of the
Chicago & Alton, every man has to pass through this car and take the
necessary examinations. In this way Mr. Perdue has become personally
acquainted with practically every man in the operating department of
the Chicago & Alton. He knows the weak men and the strong men, and his
watchful eye is over them all. He has the necessary authority to call
any man into the car for reëxamination, and to withhold him from duty
if necessary, in the interests of the service.

Mr. Perdue kindly allowed me to remain in the car while he was
conducting the exercises. There were some twenty or thirty railroad
men seated before him. The lecturer held in his hand a small bundle of
papers. They were the record of the disciplines for the month. Some of
the wrong-doers had been called into the car to listen to a description
and an analysis of their mistakes. Mr. Perdue is very kindly, yet
forceful, both in manner and speech. He talks vigorously to the men in
their own everyday language. He takes one accident after another, and
by the actual representation of it on his screen he demonstrates just
how it happened and how to avoid it for the future. He then tells a
certain man to stand up, and questions him closely as to what he would
do under such and such circumstances. Finally, he turns to his screen
and shows his audience how to smash a carload of household goods by
rough handling and by giving careless motions, and, on the other hand,
how to be loyal to the road and at the same time true to themselves by
rendering careful and efficient service.

Altogether Mr. Perdue’s work and story are so interesting that I am
tempted to give a part in his own words:--

“I have kept a record of the men handled during the past two or three
years. I promoted 148 brakemen to be conductors, 264 firemen to be
engineers, and instructed in all 3839 men. Practically all the men
passed, because if they failed to begin with, they kept coming to me
until I had educated them up to my standard. I believe the Chicago &
Alton has the finest and most loyal body of employees on any railroad
in the United States. I may be accused of blowing my own trumpet, but
I honestly believe it is nearly all due to my method of training and
discipline. By the way, this method is copyrighted by President Murphy
of the Cincinnati Southern Railroad. Of course the method is one thing,
and the man who handles the method is another, and a most important
consideration. That is why I point with pride to my record with the
boys on the Chicago & Alton. I want them to get the credit for it, for
without their coöperation my work would be thrown away. To begin with,
I make a point of getting the men interested, not only in their own
records, but in the records and reputation of the Chicago & Alton. I
tell you one thing, and that is, you cannot, with impunity, malign or
abuse the Chicago & Alton Railroad in the hearing of one of my boys.

“Then, again, I have no favorites. I make it a point to work with
absolute impartiality and uniformity. Every man knows he must stand or
fall on his own merits, that is, on his record as a flagman, a fireman,
or an engineer; and when he gets into trouble, his character as a man
is taken into account. Please don’t lose sight of the fact that I made
these Chicago & Alton boys. I made good men out of them because I
aroused an interest in every man. We are all proud to be able to say
that we work for the Chicago & Alton, and we point to our road as the
best, safest, and most comfortable in the country to-day. To give you
an idea of our splendid service, you should take a ride on our ‘Red
Train,’ on ‘The Prairie Express’ or ‘The Hummer.’

“In 1904, during the World’s Fair at St. Louis, we carried thousands
more passengers than any other road, and we neither killed nor injured
a single passenger. I spent two thirds of my time riding round with the
boys during the Fair season. We heard of numerous accidents happening
on other roads, and one thing leading to another, the word was finally
passed around, ‘Boys, not a scratch to a passenger on the Chicago &
Alton.’ And we lived up to our motto, I can tell you. This kind of work
is part of my method. It is a system of personal effort and personal
direction, and I can tell you it pays. If you don’t think so, just
take a look at the accident records of the other roads during the same
period.

“In regard to discipline, I don’t believe in being too severe. It’s
what you hold up your sleeve and have the power to use periodically,
that counts. Yet we are severe enough on the Chicago & Alton. No merit
or demerit marks for us. For minor offenses, from five to ten days’
lay-off, with loss of pay. For neglecting to have your watch inspected,
we give as many as fifteen days’ lay-off; and once in a great while,
the penalty for serious offenses goes up to thirty days. But discipline
to any great extent is uncalled for. When a man has been through my
car, he may need it once, but very seldom a second time. If you will
compare the number of preventable accidents on the Chicago & Alton
during the years 1897, 1898, and 1899 with any year or period since I
took charge of this system in 1900, you will get a very good idea of
what the ‘Stereopticon Car’ and all that it stands for has done for the
Chicago & Alton Railroad.”

But now, making an end in this way of our survey of conditions on
American railroads, there is yet one topic of another nature that
should prove unusually interesting to the general public.

To the writer of this book it has always seemed strange that the
public interest and anxiety in regard to these distressing railroad
accidents should never yet have taken the form of a very natural
curiosity to find out to what extent and by whom these matters have
been systematically studied and thought out. Doubtless the public
has the impression that its interests are being cared for somehow
by somebody. But impressions of this kind must not be mistaken for
evidence. What, for instance, are the names of the employees, the
managers, the politicians, or the legislators who have studied these
railroad accidents at close range and given the public the benefit
of their investigations? If these authorities have given little time
and no thought to the subject, the public should be informed why they
have avoided the discussion. As a matter of fact, the investigation
has been avoided, practically by all hands, for the reason that no man
can honestly apply any kind of a probe to a serious railroad accident
without running the risk of a clash with the labor organizations. No
such neglect, for this or other reasons, of a great public issue can be
pointed to in any other department of American industry or civilization.

For instance, from time to time we read in the public prints of prizes
being offered by cities and states, and sometimes by the national
government, for the best designs for some public building or memorial.
Without delay architects and artists all over the country concentrate
their minds on the subject. Those who are capable of submitting
valuable opinions and plans are invited and encouraged to do so. Money
and brains and professional pride are enlisted in the undertaking, and
thus we actually secure the best results that the concentrated thought
and talent of the profession is capable of producing.

Now it will certainly occur to most of us that it is quite as serious
and important an undertaking to try to save thousands of lives on the
railroads as it is to provide commodious and artistic public buildings.
Upon examination at close range, however, it soon becomes evident that
no concentration of thought whatever is being directed to this safety
problem, such as all other questions of national importance immediately
bring into play. If this point is well taken, it surely must result
in bringing to light a most unusual and almost incomprehensible state
of affairs. From my point of view, then, neither money, brains, nor
professional pride are in any way enlisted in the undertaking, except
along the lines of least resistance. The lines of least resistance in
these railroad problems are concerned with and embrace all manner of
signals and safety devices for the protection of life and property.
The thought and money that are being lavished on this side of the
problem can be realized by a glance at any or all of the scientific
periodicals. But the lines of greatest resistance, and at the same
time of the greatest importance, which call for a study of the human
element, that is to say of the conduct of the men in relation to
efficiency of service, have as yet failed to receive the attention and
thought which the importance of the problem undeniably calls for.

Undoubtedly this view of the matter will meet with considerable
criticism. It is a distinct reflection on the policies and methods of
the officials and the authorities to whom the public is in the habit
of looking for assistance and enlightenment. Nevertheless, a short
consideration of the subject will, I think, be sufficient to sustain
my contention, and at the same time it will serve as an introduction
to a chapter in the railroad business that is replete with interesting
particulars, as well from the industrial as from the sociological point
of view.

From the nature of the railroad business, with its multiplicity of
rules, signals, and customs, which constitute the mysteries of the
operating department, little assistance is to be expected, in a direct
way, from the ideas and opinions of the general public in the devising
or initiating of improved methods of operation. Public opinion,
however, has its proper function and influence, which can be profitably
utilized in other directions.

In the same way, judging from experience and our knowledge of the
past, little assistance in the way of thought or coöperation is to be
anticipated from the rank and file of the men. No amount of public
stimulation or official encouragement has so far had any effect in
rousing the average engineman, conductor, or station-agent, and
inducing him to devote any part of his spare time or his talents to a
fearless discussion of these railroad problems, which are so intimately
related to the safety of the traveling public. Neither in the railroad
magazines nor in the newspapers, will you ever come across an article
or any kind of appeal calling upon the organizations to take a hand,
in any public way, by coöperation with managers or otherwise, in
improving the scandalous accident record, which at the present day is
the distinguishing feature of the American railroad service. Every
railroad man seems to be a specialist in his own department, and up to
date there is no suspicion of a social conscience in any way connected
with his job or his schedules. In a word, the employee has not devoted
to the subject of railroad accidents any systematic thought or
consideration whatever.

Turning now to the officials of our railroads, to the train-masters,
superintendents, and managers, the evidence is even less satisfactory;
for it must be allowed that any systematic and persistent study of
these matters on the part of the railroad officials would sooner or
later become known to the public, through the press. But there is
absolutely no evidence of the kind in existence. The press of the
country can be carefully scrutinized and watched for an account of a
railroad accident that has been fearlessly and thoroughly analyzed by
railroad officials and published for the information of the public.
Personally, after carefully watching the outcome of a score of cases,
I am of the opinion that the investigation of a railroad accident by
the management of an American railroad is neither more nor less than a
hushing-up process, in which the officials are assisted by the railroad
commissioners, who frequently dodge main issues by taking circuitous
routes.

For instance, it cannot be denied that railroad commissioners in
general are aware that interference with discipline in aggravated
form is a recognized principle on our railroads. The Massachusetts
Commissioners, for example, found themselves face to face with the
issue, a few years ago, during their investigation of what is known
as the Baker Bridge disaster. In their report of this accident, they
characterized the principle as vicious and let it go at that; and
yet they are just as well aware as I am of the duties and habits of
a grievance committee, as well as of the fact that the privilege of
unlimited appeal from the discipline of the superintendent is to be
found in almost every agreement between men and management.

I am not presuming, in any way, to define the functions or duties
of the railroad commissioners; my object is simply to discover, if
possible, by whom and in what manner these railroad accidents are
being studied and analyzed in the interests of the traveling public.
All our evidence, therefore, points to the fact that train-masters,
superintendents, and managers--that is to say, the only men in the
country who are thoroughly posted in all the details of railroad life,
and therefore the only men with the ability and equipment to think
out these problems to successful solution--are absolutely tongue-tied
and pen-paralyzed on the subject. Occasionally, perhaps, one of these
gentlemen may emerge from his seclusion with an interesting essay on
certain phases of railroad life. In a general way he may call attention
to the importance of certain cardinal characteristics and virtues. He
may emphasize a sermon on the absolute necessity of obedience to the
rules, with numerous and interesting illustrations; but when it comes
to a question of enlightening the public in regard to the actual
working arrangements that exist between the management and men, he
immediately draws a wide black line.

If a superintendent should have the temerity to come out in the open
and describe, for the benefit of the public, the process of running
his division by a combination of rules, schedules, and grievance
committees, with himself as an almost impersonal factor in the midst
of it all, turning the crank merely as director of the machinery, he
would in short order be called upon to back up his story with his
resignation. This would be a perfectly natural consequence of his
loyalty to the public interests and of his lack of consideration for
the traditions and etiquette of his office. Not only is this true, but
his usefulness as a superintendent would be at an end; he would be
placed on the unfair list by the employees, and thus he would quickly
become _persona non grata_ to his superiors, whose harmonious relations
with the organizations he would constantly be in danger of upsetting.

But if the public should think fit to follow up the investigation
suggested and initiated by the superintendent in this way, it would
quickly find itself face to face with the fundamental antagonism that
exists in the highest railroad circles between the _rival interests of
harmony and efficiency_. So far as our railroads are concerned, this
is the “land’s end” of discussion on the safety problem. Harmony is the
altar upon which the interests of the traveling public are continually
being sacrificed. Harmony is the final adjuster, arbitrator, and
referee. Harmony dictates the policy of the railroad, the nature and
severity of its discipline, while efficiency follows in the rear, as
best it can. Just as soon as the public gets interested sufficiently in
preventable railroad accidents to call for all the facts in relation
to them, then, and not until then, will harmony be dethroned from its
dictatorship. So I think I am justified in repeating the statement
that these preventable railroad accidents and the causes which lead
up to them have not yet received proper attention and thought at the
hands either of the public, of the employees, or of the managing bodies
of the railroads. The superintendent allows the public to remain in
ignorance out of regard for his job, and the manager does the same in
the interest of harmony.

It must not be imagined, however, that the management is alone to blame
in the matter. Only too often, in the past, when a railroad manager,
in the interests of good service, has made a test case of his power,
he has had the public as well as the men to contend against. As a
matter of fact, even at the present day, the public is not in a mood
to give much credit or attention to explanations and statements that
emanate from railroad headquarters. It is an uncomfortable truth that
public opinion, as a rule, looks upon official announcements or reports
of railroad accidents as being more or less tainted, and the idea is
deeply imbedded in the public mind that a superintendent is open to the
same suspicion that is commonly attached to a manipulator of stocks in
Wall Street.

As it seems to me, then, the conclusion that little enlightenment
in regard to railroad accidents is to be looked for from management
or men has impressed itself in some way on the public mind, and the
appointment of boards of railroad commissioners to look after the
public interests has been the natural consequence. But when we come
to hunt up the evidence in regard to the study of railroad accidents
by railroad commissioners, a most unlooked-for state of affairs is
disclosed.

[Illustration: THE AFTERMATH]

Undoubtedly most of the problems that come up before the commissioners
for solution are well within the sphere of their talents and business
ability, but a fair and impartial investigation of railroad accidents
calls for a thorough examination and sifting of the evidence by men who
are actually in touch with the working of the rules and the movements
of the trains. It is not sufficient for commissioners to call for the
evidence and to listen to a rehearsal of some of the rules that
apply to the case. A fair-minded and unprejudiced listener at any
“hearing” conducted by these boards would quickly be impressed with the
conclusion that in New England, at any rate, the commissioners are not
fitted by training, study, or experience to furnish the public with
intelligent criticism of the simplest case of a preventable railroad
accident. I have not the slightest hesitation in recording this as the
whispered opinion of all railroad men who have given any thought to the
subject, although, of course, it would be highly imprudent for any one
to say so out loud.

Not only to railroad men, but to the public as well, the following
illustration will be as plain and to the point as words can make it:--

On September 15, 1907, a head-on collision occurred near West Canaan,
N. H., between two passenger trains, in which twenty-five passengers
were killed and about as many more injured. The accident was the result
of an error, either in sending or receiving a train order--possibly
both the sender and receiver were at fault. One of these men was the
train dispatcher in the main office, the other was a telegraph operator
at a way station. With a view of placing the responsibility and
explaining the disaster, an investigation was immediately entered into
by the Board of Railroad Commissioners of the State of New Hampshire.
These gentlemen were assisted in their duties by the attorney-general
of the state, their legal adviser. Replying to the direct question of
the board, “How do you think this accident happened? What occasioned
it?” the general superintendent of the Boston & Maine Railroad, himself
an operator and train dispatcher, testified as follows:--

“I would say, in my thirty years’ experience, closely connected with
the dispatching of trains,--we run something like 700,000 trains a
year,--I have never known a similar error to be made and I never have
heard of it. The error certainly was made, and due, as I believe, to a
failure of the mental process, either in the brain of the dispatcher at
Concord, the operator at Canaan, or both, and _it is utterly impossible
for me to determine which one made the failure, or whether or not they
both made it_.”

Such was the opinion of an expert railroad man, recognized as such by
the commissioners themselves. Thereupon the general superintendent, at
the request and for the benefit of the board, entered into a minute and
exact account of the methods employed in moving and handling trains on
the Boston & Maine Railroad, in so far as this was necessary to explain
the situation at the time of the accident. The narrative of the general
superintendent was interrupted at frequent intervals by questions from
the attorney-general and the commissioners. He, the manager, was called
upon to explain, not only the rules of the road, but the commonest
principles and movements in the train service. “What is a ‘block’?”
“What do you mean by ‘O. K.’ and ‘complete’?” “Explain in detail your
train-order system.” “As a matter of curiosity let me ask how this
signal works.” These questions are not put as a mere legal form or
habit, for many of the points call for reiterated explanation before
they are comprehended by the board. The language is plain enough: they
don’t understand this, they are not familiar with that, and the section
of track on which the accident happened they know nothing about. In a
word, the board goes to school to learn something about the elements
of railroading and the details of train movements by telegraph, and
having in this way been thoroughly drilled into an understanding of the
accident, and having listened to all the evidence, the investigation
comes to an end.

On October 11, 1907, the finding or report of the commissioners was
published. After reviewing the accident, the evidence in relation to
it, and the methods of operation in the train service of the Boston &
Maine Railroad, all of which was, in fact, simply a reproduction of
the testimony of the general superintendent, the board concludes its
analysis by pointing to the train dispatcher at Concord as the “more
than probable” transgressor, and actually undertakes to describe the
train of mental wanderings by means of which the error was arrived at!
In the face of the declaration of the expert railroad manager that
it was impossible to single out the offender, the commissioners, on
the same evidence, but without the expert understanding of it, are
satisfied to send this train dispatcher out into the world with the
stigma of implied guilt and responsibility for the death of twenty-five
people on his head. Train dispatchers all over the country were very
much exercised and indignant at this “finding” of the commissioners,
and I am convinced it would be very difficult to find a telegraph
operator in the United States who would be willing to say a word in its
favor.

That public officials should feel themselves justified in expressing
opinions having the nature of verdicts, upon delicate questions
relating to the train-order system of train movements, while confessing
themselves ignorant of the terms “O. K.” and “complete,” is beyond the
comprehension of railroad men; and public opinion would quickly see the
point and recognize the justice of this criticism, if its attention
should happen to be called to the members of a naval board of inquiry,
for example, whose previous experience had been such that they were
unfamiliar with the terms “port” and “starboard.”

A careful perusal of the foregoing arguments and illustrations should
have the effect of impressing upon the public mind two simple, yet very
significant, conclusions:--

In the first place, it will be evident that the safety problem on
American railroads must be taken in hand and solved by the people. The
present tangled condition of affairs can be straightened out only by
supreme authority.

And our second conclusion is the revelation that the area in American
industrial life covered by these preventable railroad accidents and
the causes that lead up to them is practically, at the present day, a
_terra incognita_. Of course the railroad man who steps out from the
rank and file, and undertakes to give away the plans and topography of
the country for the benefit of those who are interested in improving
conditions, exposes himself to all sorts of cynical criticism in
the minds of his fellows. However, as a matter of fact, your true
philosopher thrives in this kind of atmosphere. He is born of the
battle and the breeze, and spends a lifetime in fortifying the walls of
his “tub,” into which, when hard beset, he retires to enjoy himself.


  The Riverside Press
  CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
  U . S . A



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Transcriber’s note:

  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

  Archaic or alternate spelling has been retained from the original.





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