<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
<p>At the end of August the little family was united again in
Seattle. Almost the clearest picture of Carl I have is the eager
look with which he scanned the people stepping out of our car at
the station, and the beam that lit up his face as he spied us.
There is a line in Dorothy Canfield's "Bent Twig" that always
appealed to us. The mother and father were separated for a few
days, to the utter anguish of the father especially, and he
remarked, "It's Hell to be happily married!" Every time we were
ever separated we felt just that.</p>
<p>In one of Carl's letters from Seattle he had written: "The
'Atlantic Monthly' wants me to write an article on the I.W.W.!!" So
the first piece of work he had to do after we got settled was that.
We were tremendously excited, and never got over chuckling at some
of the moss-grown people we knew about the country who would feel
outraged at the "Atlantic Monthly" stooping to print stuff by that
young radical. And on such a subject! How we tore at the end, to
get the article off on time! The stenographer from the University
came about two one Sunday afternoon. I sat on the floor up in the
guest-room and read the manuscript to her while she typed it off.
Carl would rush down more copy from his study on the third floor.
I'd go over it while Miss Van Doren went over what she had typed.
Then the reading would begin again. We hated to stop for supper,
all three of us were so excited to get the job done. It <i>had</i>
to be at the main post-office that night by eleven, to arrive in
Boston when promised. At ten-thirty it was in the envelope, three
limp people tore for the car, we put Miss Van Doren on,—she
was to mail the article on her way home,—and Carl and I,
knowing this was an occasion for a treat if ever there was one,
routed out a sleepy drug-store clerk and ate the remains of his
Sunday ice-cream supply.</p>
<p>I can never express how grateful I am that that article was
written and published before Carl died. The influence of it
ramified in many and the most unexpected directions. I am still
hearing of it. We expected condemnation at the time. There probably
was plenty of it, but only one condemner wrote. On the other hand,
letters streamed in by the score from friends and strangers bearing
the general message, "God bless you for it!"</p>
<p>That article is particularly significant as showing his method
of approach to the whole problem of the I.W.W., after some two
years of psychological study.</p>
<p>"The futility of much conventional American social analysis is
due to its description of the given problem in terms of its
relationship to some relatively unimportant or artificial
institution. Few of the current analyses of strikes or labor
violence make use of the basic standards of human desire and
intention which control these phenomena. A strike and its demands
are usually praised as being law-abiding, or economically bearable,
or are condemned as being unlawful, or confiscatory. These four
attributes of a strike are important only as incidental
consequences. The habit of Americans thus to measure up social
problems to the current, temporary, and more or less accidental
scheme of traditions and legal institutions, long ago gave birth to
our national belief that passing a new law or forcing obedience to
an old one was a specific for any unrest. The current analysis of
the I.W.W. and its activities is an example of this perverted and
unscientific method. The I.W.W. analysis, which has given both
satisfaction and a basis for treating the organization, runs as
follows: the organization is unlawful in its activity, un-American
in its sabotage, unpatriotic in its relation to the flag, the
government, and the war. The rest of the condemnation is a play
upon these three attributes. So proper and so sufficient has this
condemnatory analysis become, that it is a risky matter to approach
the problem from another angle. But it is now so obvious that our
internal affairs are out of gear, that any comprehensive scheme of
national preparedness would demand that full and honest
consideration be given to all forces determining the degree of
American unity, one force being this tabooed organization.</p>
<p>"It would be best to announce here a more or less dogmatic
hypothesis to which the writer will steadfastly adhere: that human
behavior results from the rather simple, arithmetical combination
of the inherited nature of man and the environment in which his
maturing years are passed! Man will behave according to the hints
for conduct which the accidents of his life have stamped into his
memory mechanism. A slum produces a mind which has only slum
incidents with which to work, and a spoiled and protected child
seldom rises to aggressive competitive behavior, simply because its
past life has stored up no memory imprints from which a
predisposition to vigorous life can be built. The particular things
called the moral attributes of man's conduct are conventionally
found by contrasting this educated and trained way of acting with
the exigencies and social needs or dangers of the time. Hence,
while his immoral or unpatriotic behavior may fully justify his
government in imprisoning or eliminating him when it stands in some
particular danger which his conduct intensifies, this punishment in
no way either explains his character or points to an enduring
solution of his problem. Suppression, while very often justified
and necessary in the flux of human relationship, always carries a
social cost which must be liquidated, and also a backfire danger
which must be insured against. The human being is born with no
innate proclivity to crime or special kind of unpatriotism. Crime
and treason are habit-activities, educated into man by
environmental influences favorable to their development. . . .</p>
<p>"The I.W.W. can be profitably viewed only as a psychological
by-product of the neglected childhood of industrial America. It is
discouraging to see the problem to-day examined almost exclusively
from the point of view of its relation to patriotism and
conventional ventional commercial morality. . . .</p>
<p>"It is perhaps of value to quote the language of the most
influential of the I.W.W. leaders.</p>
<p>"'You ask me why the I.W.W. is not patriotic to the United
States. If you were a bum without a blanket; if you left your wife
and kids when you went West for a job, and had never located them
since; if your job never kept you long enough in a place to qualify
you to vote; if you slept in a lousy, sour bunk-house, and ate food
just as rotten as they could give you and get by with it; if deputy
sheriffs shot your cooking-cans full of holes and spilled your grub
on the ground; if your wages were lowered on you when the bosses
thought they had you down; if there was one law for Ford, Suhr, and
Mooney, and another for Harry Thaw; if every person who represented
law and order and the nation beat you up, railroaded you to jail,
and the good Christian people cheered and told them to go to it,
how in hell do you expect a man to be patriotic? This war is a
business man's war and we don't see why we should go out and get
shot in order to save the lovely state of affairs that we now
enjoy.'</p>
<p>"The argument was rather difficult to keep productive, because
gratitude—that material prerequisite to
patriotism—seemed wanting in their attitude toward the
American government. Their state of mind could be explained only by
referring it, as was earlier suggested, to its major relationships.
The dominating concern of the I.W.W. is what Keller calls the
maintenance problem. Their philosophy is, in its simple reduction,
a stomach-philosophy, and their politico-industrial revolt could be
called without injustice a hunger-riot. But there is an important
correction to this simple statement. While their way of living has
seriously encroached on the urgent minima of nutrition, shelter,
clothing, and physical health, it has also long outraged the
American laboring-class traditions touching social life, sex-life,
self-dignity, and ostentation. Had the food and shelter been
sufficient, the revolt tendencies might have simmered out, were the
migratory labor population not keenly sensitive to traditions of a
richer psychological life than mere physical maintenance."</p>
<p>The temper of the country on this subject, the general closed
attitude of mind which the average man holds thereon, prompt me to
add here a few more of Carl's generalizations and conclusions in
this article. If only he were here, to cry aloud again and yet
again on this point! Yet I know there are those who sense his
approach, and are endeavoring in every way possible to make wisdom
prevail over prejudice.</p>
<p>"Cynical disloyalty and contempt of the flag must, in the light
of modern psychology, come from a mind which is devoid of national
gratitude, and in which the United States stirs no memory of
satisfaction or happiness. To those of us who normally feel loyal
to the nation, such a disloyal sentiment brings sharp indignation.
As an index of our own sentiment and our own happy relations to the
nation, this indignation has value. As a stimulus to a programme or
ethical generalization, it is the cause of vast inaccuracy and sad
injustice. American syndicalism is not a scheming group dominated
by an unconventional and destructive social philosophy. It is
merely a commonplace attitude—not such a state of mind as
Machiavelli or Robespierre possessed, but one stamped by the
lowest, most miserable labor-conditions and outlook which American
industrialism produces. To those who have seen at first-hand the
life of the western casual laborer, any reflections on his
gratitude or spiritual buoyancy seem ironical humor.</p>
<p>"An altogether unwarranted importance has been given to the
syndicalist philosophy of the I.W.W. A few leaders use its
phraseology. Of these few, not half a dozen know the meaning of
French syndicalism or English guild socialism. To the great
wandering rank and file, the I.W.W. is simply the only social break
in the harsh search for work that they have ever had; its
headquarters the only competitor of the saloon in which they are
welcome. . . .</p>
<p>"It is a conventional economic truism that American
industrialism is guaranteeing to some half of the forty millions of
our industrial population a life of such limited happiness, of such
restrictions on personal development, and of such misery and
desolation when sickness or accident comes, that we should be
childish political scientists not to see that from such an
environment little self-sacrificing love of country, little of
ethics, little of gratitude could come. It is unfortunate that the
scientific findings of our social condition must use words which
sound strangely like the phraseology of the Socialists. This
similarity, however, should logically be embarrassing to the
critics of these findings, not to the scientists. Those who have
investigated and studied the lower strata of American labor have
long recognized the I.W.W. as purely a symptom of a certain
distressing state of affairs. The casual migratory laborers are the
finished product of an economic environment which seems cruelly
efficient in turning out human beings modeled after all the
standards which society abhors. The history of the migratory
workers shows that, starting with the long hours and dreary winters
on the farms they ran away from, or the sour-smelling bunk-house in
a coal village, through their character-debasing experience with
the drifting 'hire and fire' life in the industries, on to the
vicious social and economic life of the winter unemployed, their
training predetermined but one outcome, and the environment
produced its type.</p>
<p>"The I.W.W. has importance only as an illustration of a stable
American economic process. Its pitiful syndicalism, its
street-corner opposition to the war, are the inconsequential
trimmings. Its strike alone, faithful as it is to the American
type, is an illuminating thing. The I.W.W., like the Grangers, the
Knights of Labor, the Farmers' Alliance, the Progressive Party, is
but a phenomenon of revolt. The cure lies in taking care of its
psychic antecedents; the stability of our Republic depends on the
degree of courage and wisdom with which we move to the task."</p>
<p>In this same connection I quote from another article:—</p>
<p>"No one doubts the full propriety of the government's
suppressing ruthlessly any interference of the I.W.W. with
war-preparation. All patriots should just as vehemently protest
against all suppression of the normal protest activities of the
I.W.W. There will be neither permanent peace nor prosperity in our
country till the revolt basis of the I.W.W. is removed. And until
that is done, the I.W.W. remains an unfortunate, valuable symptom
of a diseased industrialism."</p>
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<p>I watch, along with many others, the growth of bitterness and
hysteria in the treatment of labor spreading throughout our
country, and I long, with many others, for Carl, with his depth and
sanity of understanding, coupled with his passion for justice and
democracy, to be somewhere in a position of guidance for these
troublous times.</p>
<p>I am reminded here of a little incident that took place just at
this time. An I.W.W. was to come out to have dinner with
us—some other friends, faculty people, also were to be there.
About noon the telephone rang. Carl went. A rich Irish brogue
announced: "R—— can't come to your party to-night."
"Why is that?" "He's pinched. An' he wants t' know can he have your
Kant's 'Critique of Pure Reason' to read while he's in jail."</p>
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