NEVER is the need for confidence in the good faith of employers more
keenly tested than in periods of great change. The evil done in the early
stages of the industrial revolution lived long after that generation of
employers. Conditions of employment in mine and mill spelled appalling
misery and degradation for the mass of workers. Joy in craftsmanship was
exchanged for slavery to the machine. Cheap products found reflection in
commercial practices equally debased. Only after a century of bitter
struggle was it possible to restore in part the standards that had been
sacrificed on the altar of mechanized progress.
Vocational service as it has developed in Rotary can be seen as one phase
of the effort to repair the human and social damages inflicted by the
industrial revolution. And who can say that the task is completed?
Even now, it is said, we are on the threshold of a second industrial
revolution. Whereas machines bound the worker to monotonous, repetitious
jobs, new machines are emerging to replace him and to do those jobs
better. Whereas the first industrial revolution substituted mechanical for
muscular
power, automation substitutes mechanical for human judgment, and
mechanical judgment is infallible. Robots will undertake the robot
functions that human beings have performed, and human beings will be freed
to exercise higher skills.
"Automation, well used," a Belgian Rotarian told his club, "undertakes
only what is not properly thought, but reflex. Therefore, we should
rejoice in this economic progress which is also social progress."
Well used. The qualifying phrase is all important. No doubt the first
industrial revolution when it was launched promised as much, had it been
"well used." But the employers of that day were not conscious of the
problems of transition. To them, the worker was just something for which a
machine had not been invented: a robot. Has the present generation of
employers a deeper understanding of the function of human beings in
production that will enable them to surmount the problems of transition
posed by automation—problems of upgrading and training employees for
higher skills, of adjustment to new forms of competitive enterprise, and
of distributing an accelerated production?
A British Rotarian writes:
"Nowhere can Rotarians make a more vital contribution in vocational
service than by giving earnest and constant thought to this problem: How
can I humanize my concern? How can I make every man, woman, boy, or girl
who works for me realize that in a real sense they are my business family,
sharing with me the toil, the ambitions, the achievements, the hopes, the
sorrows, and the rewards of a joint adventure?"
On all sides, leaders in commerce and industry are pointing to human
engineering as a new frontier. Said the heir to one great industrial
empire, "If we can solve the problems of human relations in production, I
believe we can make as much progress toward lower costs in the next ten
years as we made during the past hundred through the development of the
machinery of mass production'.'
These opinions were not conceived synthetically to beautify after-dinner
orations. They were born under the compulsions of three shattering
experiences, universal in their impact and of great practical
consequence—the world depression, the world war, and the power struggle
following the war. Each of these experiences demonstrated in different
ways that the idea of "economic man" was too simple, that people could not
be accurately denned as "something for which a machine had not been
invented" that the supreme problem of this generation was to match
progress in technology with progress in human relations. To state the
problem is not to solve it, however. Human engineering has a long way to
go before it catches up with mechanical engineering, and when business men
contemplate this enterprise they may well recall the lines of Santayana:
Our knowledge is a torch of smoky pine That
lights the pathway but one step ahead Across a void of mystery and dread.
Scientists are usually the last to
dogmatize, for they know how often their most cherished theories are
overthrown. One investigation by Harvard professors devoted five years to
observing the same girls doing the same job. Every conceivable variation
in their personal lives and the conditions of their employment was
carefully correlated with their output. Everyone was happy with the
results because improved working conditions seemed to improve the output
and the earnings of the workers. But then one investigator proposed to
restore the original conditions—the forty-eight-hour week without rests,
lunches, etc. Output, instead of declining as expected, maintained its
high level. The theory that improved conditions and absence of fatigue
automatically increased output seemed discredited.
A world-famous manufacturer of electrical
equipment experimented with the effects of different lighting on the
productivity of workers. To control the experiment, a group of individuals
with no discoverable personality problems was selected and every provision
was made for their contentment. With perfect lighting for their work,
production of this group soared. When lighting was reduced it made no
difference. Finally, working under an illumination no better than
moonlight, this group remained as productive as ever. Evidently, workers
who are satisfied can over come physical handicaps.
What are these powerful sentiments in human
beings that underlie and often supersede the obvious incentives of
improved conditions and rewards? That is a question that must interest not
only employers, but salesmen, teachers, doctors, and dentists, in fact,
anyone whose work calls for a deep-down understanding of people. Answers
vary infinitely and gain by being specific, but here is a general
conclusion reached by the Labor and Management Center of Yale University.
The goals of the human organism, whether it
house a floor-sweeper or the president of a company, are to gain-
(1) The respect of his fellow-men;
(2) Material comforts and as much economic security as the most favored;
(3) Increasing control of his own affairs;
(4) Better understanding of forces and factors at work in his world;
(5) A basis of integrity for living.
This brief excursion along the frontier of
human engineering may suggest the type of investigation that is taking
place today. If it seems rather theoretical, Rotarians may recall the
remark of Michael Faraday when he was showing his first experiment in
electromagnet-ism. A member of parliament asked him of what use it was,
and Faraday replied: "Well, of what use is a newborn baby? But you may be
able to tax this some day."
Rather more might be claimed for human
engineering as it is being developed, not only in the study of employees,
but in all phases of vocational service. Each business or professional
relationship that involves people calls for careful examination of their
goals, their sentiments, and their abilities. It calls for constant
re-evaluation of personal attitudes and policies in the light of this
examination. Each store, each office, each workshop, each factory is a
laboratory of human engineering where living, vital knowledge is waiting
to be organized.
From this viewpoint, the "recognition of the
worthiness of all useful occupations" enjoined by Rotary's Object,
acquires an active significance. As eloquently described in a speech by
the president of a Chinese Rotary club in the Far East, it involves
humility, understanding, and leadership.
"The occupation of the cobbler," he
declared, "with his little rap-a-tap-tap stand on the street corner or the
shoe-shine boy yelling to you 'Shoe shine, Joe?' along the sidewalk is
just as worthy and dignified as the occupation of any banker with his
office luxuriously fitted with paneled walls, telephones, cushions, and
swivel chairs and all the fineries becoming of his occupation. However
humble an occupation be, it is up to the man to make it worthy and
dignified.
"Have you ever had the experience of taking
a rickshaw ride without previous bargaining as to the price of the ride?
Then, at the end of the journey, you give the rickshaw-puller a certain
sum of money and he voluntarily returns to you some change without your
asking? Well I have had that experience. More than once. Now what do you
think of that rickshaw-puller? In my opinion, that rickshaw-puller has
high standards in his business of rickshaw-pulling. He recognizes the
dignity of his occupation. He feels that in accepting the whole sum of
money you give him for the ride, he would be charging you an exorbitant
price for his work. Ostensibly, he is trying to be fair to you. But
subconsciously, he is rendering a distinct service to the community.
"These men, though they are not Rotarians
and though their occupations are about the most humble in the social
scale, are exemplifying not only the principles of Rotary, but are
building upon the real foundation of all successful business
enterprise—'business is service'. What these humble non-Rotarians are able
to accomplish in their efforts to serve society, we as Rotarians should be
able to do better; yes, in comparing the advantages we have over these men
of humble occupation, we should be able to do thousands of times better."
A confession comes from a Rotarian, so
distinguished for his relations with his employees that he was selected as
an employer-representative at the International Labor Conference. As the
result of some unhappy experiences on the eve of his departure, he was
feeling rather bitter about labor in general as he crossed the ocean. One
evening in company with some fellow-delegates in the smoking-room, this
feeling came to the surface in a somewhat vehement expression of
misgivings concerning the whole picture of labor-management relations. In
the midst of his lament, one of the delegates suddenly interrupted him.
"Look here!' he said, "I'm going to ask you a question. Don't think. Just
answer right away—quick! Do you like your men?"
As the Rotarian tells the story, he was
considerably taken aback. "Do you know, I was unable to answer that
question right away. If he had asked me whether I loved my wife or
children, I would have said 'yes' without thinking. But when he put that
question up to me and I couldn't answer it, I knew there was something
wrong with me. I should like to ask you— any of you—to go and sit down in
a quiet corner and ask yourselves that question and see what your answer
would be.
"The delegate's advice to me was, 'Go home
and like them, and see the difference! "
Employees are people. Like all people, they
like to be liked. It makes a difference that can be apparent in many ways.
The visitor to a large plant where some marvelous new machines had been
installed, commented to the president of the company: "They certainly are
beauties, and I expect they cost you a pretty penny. But they weren't what
impressed me particularly. What struck me as we walked through those great
shops was the look on the faces of your employees, the ready smile and the
words exchanged with some of them. It showed that these people were glad
to work with you and that even big business need not lose the personal
touch!'
Treating employees as people involves
inevitably the consideration of matters only remotely connected with their
jobs. Tangible demonstrations of this friendly concern with the physical,
social, and spiritual well-being o£ employees are legion. Provision of
comfortable and healthy working conditions carries over naturally to the
furnishing of free medical care and hospitalization for the employee and
his dependents, economical housing, recreational facilities, paid
vacations, and pensions.
"We try to make our workers' lives worth
living" was the simple explanation of one firm which had provided for the
welfare of employees in all these ways.
Another firm which supported an exclusive
country club for the recreation of its employees and their families
proclaimed: "At the heart of our plan is the belief that the healthy
worker will out-produce the sickly one, and that a happy worker will do
more work and do it better, than a discontented one'.'
Nor are these efforts to treat employees
like people confined to large and wealthy corporations. The small
organization with its intimate first-name relationships can and often does
plan extensively for its employees' welfare. A Canadian employer told his
vocational craft assembly at a Rotary convention how "we organize our
workmen'.'
"We have bowling leagues in the wintertime'/
he stated, "and we give a banquet for them at the end of the season. We
have picnics for them in the summertime. We have hockey games. Many of
them go fishing and they bring back pictures of their catch. We give a
prize for the biggest fish caught. They get a great kick out of it. You
have got to work for those fellows because they are working for you. Pay
them back in something besides coin, because coin won't buy everything in
this day and age!'
In a pamphlet called, "Firm Foundations,"
issued by the Rotary Club of Capetown, South Africa, small business is
advised how it can help its employees through savings plans, group
insurance, and the guarantee of loans. A medical-aid society in which
firms with only a few employees can participate was launched in Rhodesia.
And for those who may doubt Rotary's influence in vocational service, it
should be noted that the impetus for this scheme came from the vocational
service chairman of a Rotary club.
Employers who like their workers and think
of them as people do not lack inspiring examples of tangible ways to
express their sentiments. The list of benefits and welfare projects is
inexhaustible and, in some ways, bewildering. Questions arise. Do
employees appreciate what they are getting? Are these costly gratuities
justified in terms of heightened morale, increased productivity, reduced
labor turnover and less-frequent absences from work? Or are these typical
replies taken from a recent poll of employees an indication that treating
them like people may sometimes misfire?
"I thought the government paid for it!'
"They take it out of our pay!'
"I didn't even know there were such benefits!'
"It's paternalism!"
Such comments are not at all uncommon. As a
response to a friendly gesture they are sometimes hard to take. Yet they
do illustrate the dangers inherent in all social undertakings. That
enlightened despot of Prussia who carried his concern for his subjects'
welfare so far that he went around dipping his linger into their cooking
pots to assure himself that they were getting the right nourishment, is a
warning to all of us. The self-conscious philanthropist with "an
overpowering air of doing good" is generally resented and often suspected.
The mistakes of paternalism and all its
disappointments can he avoided if common sense is mixed in liberal
quantities with sentiment. A frank and objective recognition that the
money spent on these benefits could be added to the workers' pay may lead
to the decision that they should be consulted about the project being
planned. Or the individual employee can be left completely free to decide
without stigma to his reputation as a "good fellow" whether he wants to
participate in activities sponsored by the firm. In this way the concept
that "employees are people" can be stretched to include the realization
that they are "persons" too, with freedom of choice, and therefore more
likely to join in where they have complete liberty to refuse.
On the other hand, enlightened self-interest
should never be masked under a spurious benevolence. General statistics
show that absenteeism costs as much as the average company's net profit.
Labor turnover in many plants runs as high as 50 per cent a year; and the
cost of recruitment, placement, and training, even of an unskilled worker,
averages close to a hundred dollars. Accordingly, there is ample
justification of expenditures that help to keep employees healthy in mind
and body, free from worry and happy in their jobs,. The benefits that
produce these results can often be made available to employees as a group
far more economically than they could be obtained individually. Frank
explanation of these facts to employees can help remove any suspicion of
paternalism.
Robots or human beings? In the last
analysis, is it not a question of self-esteem? Happy is the worker who
prides himself in the importance of his function. A Rotarian happened to
sit next to a passenger on the bus who seemed completely wrapped up in his
own thoughts. Every so often a
smile flitted across his face.
"You seem to be enjoying this ride, friend,"
the Rotarian ventured to remark. The man started; then relaxed and smiled.
"I must have looked silly," he said, "but I have a good reason. I was just
checking up on my engine."
"What do you mean, your engine?" came back
the Rotarian. "I though it belonged to the Blank Bus Company."
"Oh, sure," he answered, "but it's still my
baby. I've just put in two solid days on that power plant, and now listen
to her, will you. Purring like a contented cat. Look," he went on, "I
hammer and measure and grind and adjust these motors for months at a time,
and when I send them out on the road, they're right! But the greatest
enjoyment I get is when I sit here with thirty other passengers and see
how the bus performs. It gives me a lift," said he, "when I remember that
the work I do in the shop is safety insurance for hundreds of people who
ride these buses."
In what ways can a Rotarian employer help
to revive the spirit of craftsmanship?
