<SPAN name="chap06"></SPAN>
<h3> Chapter 6 </h3>
<p>Dr. Leete ceased speaking, and I remained silent, endeavoring to form
some general conception of the changes in the arrangements of society
implied in the tremendous revolution which he had described.</p>
<p>Finally I said, "The idea of such an extension of the functions of
government is, to say the least, rather overwhelming."</p>
<p>"Extension!" he repeated, "where is the extension?"</p>
<p>"In my day," I replied, "it was considered that the proper functions of
government, strictly speaking, were limited to keeping the peace and
defending the people against the public enemy, that is, to the military
and police powers."</p>
<p>"And, in heaven's name, who are the public enemies?" exclaimed Dr.
Leete. "Are they France, England, Germany, or hunger, cold, and
nakedness? In your day governments were accustomed, on the slightest
international misunderstanding, to seize upon the bodies of citizens
and deliver them over by hundreds of thousands to death and mutilation,
wasting their treasures the while like water; and all this oftenest for
no imaginable profit to the victims. We have no wars now, and our
governments no war powers, but in order to protect every citizen
against hunger, cold, and nakedness, and provide for all his physical
and mental needs, the function is assumed of directing his industry for
a term of years. No, Mr. West, I am sure on reflection you will
perceive that it was in your age, not in ours, that the extension of
the functions of governments was extraordinary. Not even for the best
ends would men now allow their governments such powers as were then
used for the most maleficent."</p>
<p>"Leaving comparisons aside," I said, "the demagoguery and corruption of
our public men would have been considered, in my day, insuperable
objections to any assumption by government of the charge of the
national industries. We should have thought that no arrangement could
be worse than to entrust the politicians with control of the
wealth-producing machinery of the country. Its material interests were
quite too much the football of parties as it was."</p>
<p>"No doubt you were right," rejoined Dr. Leete, "but all that is changed
now. We have no parties or politicians, and as for demagoguery and
corruption, they are words having only an historical significance."</p>
<p>"Human nature itself must have changed very much," I said.</p>
<p>"Not at all," was Dr. Leete's reply, "but the conditions of human life
have changed, and with them the motives of human action. The
organization of society with you was such that officials were under a
constant temptation to misuse their power for the private profit of
themselves or others. Under such circumstances it seems almost strange
that you dared entrust them with any of your affairs. Nowadays, on the
contrary, society is so constituted that there is absolutely no way in
which an official, however ill-disposed, could possibly make any profit
for himself or any one else by a misuse of his power. Let him be as bad
an official as you please, he cannot be a corrupt one. There is no
motive to be. The social system no longer offers a premium on
dishonesty. But these are matters which you can only understand as you
come, with time, to know us better."</p>
<p>"But you have not yet told me how you have settled the labor problem.
It is the problem of capital which we have been discussing," I said.
"After the nation had assumed conduct of the mills, machinery,
railroads, farms, mines, and capital in general of the country, the
labor question still remained. In assuming the responsibilities of
capital the nation had assumed the difficulties of the capitalist's
position."</p>
<p>"The moment the nation assumed the responsibilities of capital those
difficulties vanished," replied Dr. Leete. "The national organization
of labor under one direction was the complete solution of what was, in
your day and under your system, justly regarded as the insoluble labor
problem. When the nation became the sole employer, all the citizens, by
virtue of their citizenship, became employees, to be distributed
according to the needs of industry."</p>
<p>"That is," I suggested, "you have simply applied the principle of
universal military service, as it was understood in our day, to the
labor question."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Dr. Leete, "that was something which followed as a matter
of course as soon as the nation had become the sole capitalist. The
people were already accustomed to the idea that the obligation of every
citizen, not physically disabled, to contribute his military services
to the defense of the nation was equal and absolute. That it was
equally the duty of every citizen to contribute his quota of industrial
or intellectual services to the maintenance of the nation was equally
evident, though it was not until the nation became the employer of
labor that citizens were able to render this sort of service with any
pretense either of universality or equity. No organization of labor was
possible when the employing power was divided among hundreds or
thousands of individuals and corporations, between which concert of any
kind was neither desired, nor indeed feasible. It constantly happened
then that vast numbers who desired to labor could find no opportunity,
and on the other hand, those who desired to evade a part or all of
their debt could easily do so."</p>
<p>"Service, now, I suppose, is compulsory upon all," I suggested.</p>
<p>"It is rather a matter of course than of compulsion," replied Dr.
Leete. "It is regarded as so absolutely natural and reasonable that the
idea of its being compulsory has ceased to be thought of. He would be
thought to be an incredibly contemptible person who should need
compulsion in such a case. Nevertheless, to speak of service being
compulsory would be a weak way to state its absolute inevitableness.
Our entire social order is so wholly based upon and deduced from it
that if it were conceivable that a man could escape it, he would be
left with no possible way to provide for his existence. He would have
excluded himself from the world, cut himself off from his kind, in a
word, committed suicide."</p>
<p>"Is the term of service in this industrial army for life?"</p>
<p>"Oh, no; it both begins later and ends earlier than the average working
period in your day. Your workshops were filled with children and old
men, but we hold the period of youth sacred to education, and the
period of maturity, when the physical forces begin to flag, equally
sacred to ease and agreeable relaxation. The period of industrial
service is twenty-four years, beginning at the close of the course of
education at twenty-one and terminating at forty-five. After
forty-five, while discharged from labor, the citizen still remains
liable to special calls, in case of emergencies causing a sudden great
increase in the demand for labor, till he reaches the age of
fifty-five, but such calls are rarely, in fact almost never, made. The
fifteenth day of October of every year is what we call Muster Day,
because those who have reached the age of twenty-one are then mustered
into the industrial service, and at the same time those who, after
twenty-four years' service, have reached the age of forty-five, are
honorably mustered out. It is the great day of the year with us, whence
we reckon all other events, our Olympiad, save that it is annual."</p>
<br/><br/><br/>
<SPAN name="chap07"></SPAN>
<h3> Chapter 7 </h3>
<p>"It is after you have mustered your industrial army into service," I
said, "that I should expect the chief difficulty to arise, for there
its analogy with a military army must cease. Soldiers have all the same
thing, and a very simple thing, to do, namely, to practice the manual
of arms, to march and stand guard. But the industrial army must learn
and follow two or three hundred diverse trades and avocations. What
administrative talent can be equal to determining wisely what trade or
business every individual in a great nation shall pursue?"</p>
<p>"The administration has nothing to do with determining that point."</p>
<p>"Who does determine it, then?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Every man for himself in accordance with his natural aptitude, the
utmost pains being taken to enable him to find out what his natural
aptitude really is. The principle on which our industrial army is
organized is that a man's natural endowments, mental and physical,
determine what he can work at most profitably to the nation and most
satisfactorily to himself. While the obligation of service in some form
is not to be evaded, voluntary election, subject only to necessary
regulation, is depended on to determine the particular sort of service
every man is to render. As an individual's satisfaction during his term
of service depends on his having an occupation to his taste, parents
and teachers watch from early years for indications of special
aptitudes in children. A thorough study of the National industrial
system, with the history and rudiments of all the great trades, is an
essential part of our educational system. While manual training is not
allowed to encroach on the general intellectual culture to which our
schools are devoted, it is carried far enough to give our youth, in
addition to their theoretical knowledge of the national industries,
mechanical and agricultural, a certain familiarity with their tools and
methods. Our schools are constantly visiting our workshops, and often
are taken on long excursions to inspect particular industrial
enterprises. In your day a man was not ashamed to be grossly ignorant
of all trades except his own, but such ignorance would not be
consistent with our idea of placing every one in a position to select
intelligently the occupation for which he has most taste. Usually long
before he is mustered into service a young man has found out the
pursuit he wants to follow, has acquired a great deal of knowledge
about it, and is waiting impatiently the time when he can enlist in its
ranks."</p>
<p>"Surely," I said, "it can hardly be that the number of volunteers for
any trade is exactly the number needed in that trade. It must be
generally either under or over the demand."</p>
<p>"The supply of volunteers is always expected to fully equal the
demand," replied Dr. Leete. "It is the business of the administration
to see that this is the case. The rate of volunteering for each trade
is closely watched. If there be a noticeably greater excess of
volunteers over men needed in any trade, it is inferred that the trade
offers greater attractions than others. On the other hand, if the
number of volunteers for a trade tends to drop below the demand, it is
inferred that it is thought more arduous. It is the business of the
administration to seek constantly to equalize the attractions of the
trades, so far as the conditions of labor in them are concerned, so
that all trades shall be equally attractive to persons having natural
tastes for them. This is done by making the hours of labor in different
trades to differ according to their arduousness. The lighter trades,
prosecuted under the most agreeable circumstances, have in this way the
longest hours, while an arduous trade, such as mining, has very short
hours. There is no theory, no a priori rule, by which the respective
attractiveness of industries is determined. The administration, in
taking burdens off one class of workers and adding them to other
classes, simply follows the fluctuations of opinion among the workers
themselves as indicated by the rate of volunteering. The principle is
that no man's work ought to be, on the whole, harder for him than any
other man's for him, the workers themselves to be the judges. There are
no limits to the application of this rule. If any particular occupation
is in itself so arduous or so oppressive that, in order to induce
volunteers, the day's work in it had to be reduced to ten minutes, it
would be done. If, even then, no man was willing to do it, it would
remain undone. But of course, in point of fact, a moderate reduction in
the hours of labor, or addition of other privileges, suffices to secure
all needed volunteers for any occupation necessary to men. If, indeed,
the unavoidable difficulties and dangers of such a necessary pursuit
were so great that no inducement of compensating advantages would
overcome men's repugnance to it, the administration would only need to
take it out of the common order of occupations by declaring it 'extra
hazardous,' and those who pursued it especially worthy of the national
gratitude, to be overrun with volunteers. Our young men are very greedy
of honor, and do not let slip such opportunities. Of course you will
see that dependence on the purely voluntary choice of avocations
involves the abolition in all of anything like unhygienic conditions or
special peril to life and limb. Health and safety are conditions common
to all industries. The nation does not maim and slaughter its workmen
by thousands, as did the private capitalists and corporations of your
day."</p>
<p>"When there are more who want to enter a particular trade than there is
room for, how do you decide between the applicants?" I inquired.</p>
<p>"Preference is given to those who have acquired the most knowledge of
the trade they wish to follow. No man, however, who through successive
years remains persistent in his desire to show what he can do at any
particular trade, is in the end denied an opportunity. Meanwhile, if a
man cannot at first win entrance into the business he prefers, he has
usually one or more alternative preferences, pursuits for which he has
some degree of aptitude, although not the highest. Every one, indeed,
is expected to study his aptitudes so as to have not only a first
choice as to occupation, but a second or third, so that if, either at
the outset of his career or subsequently, owing to the progress of
invention or changes in demand, he is unable to follow his first
vocation, he can still find reasonably congenial employment. This
principle of secondary choices as to occupation is quite important in
our system. I should add, in reference to the counter-possibility of
some sudden failure of volunteers in a particular trade, or some sudden
necessity of an increased force, that the administration, while
depending on the voluntary system for filling up the trades as a rule,
holds always in reserve the power to call for special volunteers, or
draft any force needed from any quarter. Generally, however, all needs
of this sort can be met by details from the class of unskilled or
common laborers."</p>
<p>"How is this class of common laborers recruited?" I asked. "Surely
nobody voluntarily enters that."</p>
<p>"It is the grade to which all new recruits belong for the first three
years of their service. It is not till after this period, during which
he is assignable to any work at the discretion of his superiors, that
the young man is allowed to elect a special avocation. These three
years of stringent discipline none are exempt from, and very glad our
young men are to pass from this severe school into the comparative
liberty of the trades. If a man were so stupid as to have no choice as
to occupation, he would simply remain a common laborer; but such cases,
as you may suppose, are not common."</p>
<p>"Having once elected and entered on a trade or occupation," I remarked,
"I suppose he has to stick to it the rest of his life."</p>
<p>"Not necessarily," replied Dr. Leete; "while frequent and merely
capricious changes of occupation are not encouraged or even permitted,
every worker is allowed, of course, under certain regulations and in
accordance with the exigencies of the service, to volunteer for another
industry which he thinks would suit him better than his first choice.
In this case his application is received just as if he were
volunteering for the first time, and on the same terms. Not only this,
but a worker may likewise, under suitable regulations and not too
frequently, obtain a transfer to an establishment of the same industry
in another part of the country which for any reason he may prefer.
Under your system a discontented man could indeed leave his work at
will, but he left his means of support at the same time, and took his
chances as to future livelihood. We find that the number of men who
wish to abandon an accustomed occupation for a new one, and old friends
and associations for strange ones, is small. It is only the poorer sort
of workmen who desire to change even as frequently as our regulations
permit. Of course transfers or discharges, when health demands them,
are always given."</p>
<p>"As an industrial system, I should think this might be extremely
efficient," I said, "but I don't see that it makes any provision for
the professional classes, the men who serve the nation with brains
instead of hands. Of course you can't get along without the
brain-workers. How, then, are they selected from those who are to serve
as farmers and mechanics? That must require a very delicate sort of
sifting process, I should say."</p>
<p>"So it does," replied Dr. Leete; "the most delicate possible test is
needed here, and so we leave the question whether a man shall be a
brain or hand worker entirely to him to settle. At the end of the term
of three years as a common laborer, which every man must serve, it is
for him to choose, in accordance to his natural tastes, whether he will
fit himself for an art or profession, or be a farmer or mechanic. If he
feels that he can do better work with his brains than his muscles, he
finds every facility provided for testing the reality of his supposed
bent, of cultivating it, and if fit of pursuing it as his avocation.
The schools of technology, of medicine, of art, of music, of
histrionics, and of higher liberal learning are always open to
aspirants without condition."</p>
<p>"Are not the schools flooded with young men whose only motive is to
avoid work?"</p>
<p>Dr. Leete smiled a little grimly.</p>
<p>"No one is at all likely to enter the professional schools for the
purpose of avoiding work, I assure you," he said. "They are intended
for those with special aptitude for the branches they teach, and any
one without it would find it easier to do double hours at his trade
than try to keep up with the classes. Of course many honestly mistake
their vocation, and, finding themselves unequal to the requirements of
the schools, drop out and return to the industrial service; no
discredit attaches to such persons, for the public policy is to
encourage all to develop suspected talents which only actual tests can
prove the reality of. The professional and scientific schools of your
day depended on the patronage of their pupils for support, and the
practice appears to have been common of giving diplomas to unfit
persons, who afterwards found their way into the professions. Our
schools are national institutions, and to have passed their tests is a
proof of special abilities not to be questioned.</p>
<p>"This opportunity for a professional training," the doctor continued,
"remains open to every man till the age of thirty is reached, after
which students are not received, as there would remain too brief a
period before the age of discharge in which to serve the nation in
their professions. In your day young men had to choose their
professions very young, and therefore, in a large proportion of
instances, wholly mistook their vocations. It is recognized nowadays
that the natural aptitudes of some are later than those of others in
developing, and therefore, while the choice of profession may be made
as early as twenty-four, it remains open for six years longer."</p>
<p>A question which had a dozen times before been on my lips now found
utterance, a question which touched upon what, in my time, had been
regarded the most vital difficulty in the way of any final settlement
of the industrial problem. "It is an extraordinary thing," I said,
"that you should not yet have said a word about the method of adjusting
wages. Since the nation is the sole employer, the government must fix
the rate of wages and determine just how much everybody shall earn,
from the doctors to the diggers. All I can say is, that this plan would
never have worked with us, and I don't see how it can now unless human
nature has changed. In my day, nobody was satisfied with his wages or
salary. Even if he felt he received enough, he was sure his neighbor
had too much, which was as bad. If the universal discontent on this
subject, instead of being dissipated in curses and strikes directed
against innumerable employers, could have been concentrated upon one,
and that the government, the strongest ever devised would not have seen
two pay days."</p>
<p>Dr. Leete laughed heartily.</p>
<p>"Very true, very true," he said, "a general strike would most probably
have followed the first pay day, and a strike directed against a
government is a revolution."</p>
<p>"How, then, do you avoid a revolution every pay day?" if demanded. "Has
some prodigious philosopher devised a new system of calculus
satisfactory to all for determining the exact and comparative value of
all sorts of service, whether by brawn or brain, by hand or voice, by
ear or eye? Or has human nature itself changed, so that no man looks
upon his own things but 'every man on the things of his neighbor'? One
or the other of these events must be the explanation."</p>
<p>"Neither one nor the other, however, is," was my host's laughing
response. "And now, Mr. West," he continued, "you must remember that
you are my patient as well as my guest, and permit me to prescribe
sleep for you before we have any more conversation. It is after three
o'clock."</p>
<p>"The prescription is, no doubt, a wise one," I said; "I only hope it
can be filled."</p>
<p>"I will see to that," the doctor replied, and he did, for he gave me a
wineglass of something or other which sent me to sleep as soon as my
head touched the pillow.</p>
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