_If for any reason a member of the organization deserves or requires the executive’s personal attention, his birthday may be chosen as the date
of the interview. Then whether the man merits an advance for extra good work or needs help to correct a temporary slump in efficiency, the reward or the appeal takes on added meaning_
_because it coincides with a turning point in his life_.
To facilitate the plan, the manager’s file of employment cards is arranged, not by
initials or departments, but by birthdays. Each workman’s name falls under his eye a few days in advance, long enough to secure a report from his foreman, if knowledge is lacking of his progress.
As I entered this manager’s office, I met a young man coming out. He had been in the company’s employ only a few months and his relations with the organization had not yet been established. Asked for a report, his foreman gave him a good record and recommended a small advance. Imagine the surprise,
the instant access of pride and loyalty, the impulse towards greater effort and efficiency, when the young man was called into the
manager’s office on his birthday, congratulated on his record, and informed that he would start his new year with an advance in wages.
Double the advance, if allowed in the usual way, would not have so impressed and satisfied
him. The increased wage made its appeal direct to the instinct for social recognition, and hence was very effective.
Such a method does not admit of general application. Practiced in cold blood, it might even be harmful. But in this case, it struck me not as an act of selfish cleverness, but as the expression of a real sympathy and interest which the manager felt for his men. The
cleverness lay in the recognition that no man is ever so susceptible to counsel, to appreciation, or to rebuke as on his birthday, when the social self is especially alert.
In other organizations, the effort to extend this factor of human sympathy to each worker and to see that full justice is rendered to him takes the form of a department of promotion and discharge. The head is the direct representative of the “front office” and is independent of superintendents and foremen. No
man can be “paid off” until the facts have been submitted to the consideration of this department. Here also the man may present his case
to an unprejudiced and sympathetic arbiter.
_In actual practice the man “paid off” is sometimes retained and the foreman, on the evidence of prejudice, bad temper, or other incompetency, is discharged. In consequence every
workman knows that his place does not depend upon the whim of his immediate superior, but that faithful service will certainly be recognized_.
Furthermore, this department assumes the task of shifting men from one department to another and thus minimizing the misfits which lower the efficiency of the whole organization. Records of each man’s performance are kept, and promotions and discharge are more nearly in accord with facts than would be possible in a large house without some such agency. In too many big establishments the individual feels that he does not count in the crowd and that he is helpless to do anything to advance himself or to protect himself against an antagonistic foreman. In large measure, such a department reduces this feeling and bridges the
chasm between the men and the firm.
In its effect on the attitude and efficiency of employees, the method of fixing and ad-
justing wages is no less important than the wages themselves. The steady trend of the labor market has been upward and always upward; it is one of the notable achievements of trade and industry that this constant appreciation in the price of man power has been
neutralized by increase in the efficiency of its application. This increase in earning capacity has been secured not alone by the development of automatic machinery, but by the division of labor, the subdivision of processes, and the education of workers to accept the new methods, and acquire expert skill in some specialty.
Hardly a generation has passed since one man, or perhaps two working together, built farm wagons, steam engines, and a thousand other articles entire. Now a hundred mechanics or machine tenders may have contributed
to either wagon or engine before
it reaches the shipping department. Three fourths of these workers are paid piece rates. The substitution of these piece rates for day wages, the striking of a satisfactory balance between production and compensation, and
the endless changes in the scale as new parts or faster or simpler processes are invented– have all been operations in which the tact and man-handling skill of executives have played a significant part.
In the larger organization this knowledge or skill is often supplied by a manager who has “come up through the ranks” and has not forgotten his journeyman’s dexterity on the way or neglected to keep in touch with improved methods.
_Frequently the advantage of a small industry or trading venture over its larger rivals depends on the owner’s mastery of all the processes or conditions involved and his ability to deal with his employees on a personal plane in fixing wages or in establishing the standard day’s work_.
In a stove factory where four fifths of the processes are paid by piece rates, it was necessary, not long ago, to fix the remuneration for the assembling of a new type of range. Most of the operations were standard; the workmen and the management differed, however,
on what should be paid for the setting and fas-
tening of a back piece with seventeen bolts. The men asked fifteen cents a range. When refused, they named twelve cents as an ultimatum. The company was willing neither to pay
such a price nor to antagonize the workmen.
The dispute was settled by a demonstration. The superintendent was himself a graduate from the bench and had been an expert workman. The company’s contract with the assemblers’ union set $4.50 a day as the maximum
wage. To prove his contention that even twelve cents was too great a price, he set the back pieces on ten ranges himself, under the eyes of a committee, and proved that at six cents a range he could easily earn the maximum day wage. The price agreed upon was
eight cents, little more than half the original demand. Without the demonstration the
men would have accepted twelve cents reluctantly.
In the course of the interviews with employers, it became evident that there was
agreement on one point–to educate the worker to realize that the house’s policy in
handling its men gave added value to the sums paid out in wages.
_The shiftless or unskilled man works mainly for the next pay envelope, with little or no regard for the continuity of employment, the possibility of promotion, of pension, of sick or accident benefits, of working conditions, or the like_.
The skilled worker, on the contrary, and the more desirable class of laborers, nearly always rate their wages above or below par, according to the presence or the absence of these contingent benefits or emoluments.
To the average man with a family, the “steady job” at fair wages is the first consideration. It appeals more strongly to him than intermittent employment at a much
higher rate; while the younger, restless, and less dependable man, both skilled and unskilled, gravitates to the shop where he can command a premium for a little while. Just as managers are always looking for the steady worker, nearly all agree in assuring their employees that faithful and efficient service will be rewarded with continuous employment.
To carry out this policy is sometimes difficult in businesses where demand is seasonal
and where a large part of the product must be made to order. Nevertheless, the manager who adjusts his production program to cover the entire year has the choice of the best workers even when other factories offer higher rates. Likewise, the employer who sacrifices his profit in bad years to “take care of his men” and hold his organization together recovers his losses when the revival comes.
So deeply rooted is this desire for a “steady job” and so generally recognized as an essential of the labor problem that several large industries have developed “side lines” to which
they can turn their organization during their slack seasons; while others in periods of depression pile up huge stocks of standard products, making heavy investments of capital,
for the primary purpose of keeping their men employed.
How such a policy reacts on the wage question, and hence on the efficiency of employees, is shown by an instance which lately fell under
my notice. By a long and persistent campaign of education and demonstration, a small “quality” house forced a rival ten times as large
to adopt the careful processes on which this quality depended. Adopting the small man’s methods, the competitor, instead of training its own operatives to the new standards, sought to hire the other man’s skilled workers. The premium offered was a thirty per cent advance. It was refused, however. The tempted mechanics, analyzing the rival’s proposal, hit on
the disloyalty contemplated towards its own employees. They were to be discharged or transferred to other departments to make room for the new men.
Measuring this cold-blooded policy against the consideration, the unfailing effort of their old employer to “take care of them” in bad seasons, the workers decided to stick to the smaller company and refuse the advance.
_Next to continuous employment, among methods of increasing the value of wages, is the policy of making promotions from the ranks_.
This practice seems to be commonly ac-
cepted as fruitful, although many firms believe it impossible of application in filling some of the higher as well as some of the more technical positions. Where the system is applicable, it acts as a powerful stimulus to the
men by adding to their present wages the promise or possibility of better positions and higher pay in the future. It gives assurance of promotion for faithful service much greater than in houses which fill the upper positions from outside sources on the assumption that they thus get “new blood” into the business. The men secured from outside may be more skilled or more productive of immediate results than any available in the house organization. By their importation, however, the
wages of all the men aspiring to the position have been cheapened. Nor does the evil stop there.
_The assumption is naturally drawn that the same practice is likely to be followed in filling other vacancies. The stimulus to initiative and activity is thus weakened for men in every grade and their wages are shrunk below par_.
The importance which some successful employers attach to this principle of promotion
from the ranks is well illustrated by an incident which recently occurred in a large manufacturing establishment organized on a one-man
basis. During the president’s absence it was decided to open up a new zone of trade for a new product. No one in the organization
knew the product and the field, so a new man was put in charge. The work progressed
surprisingly well; the enterprise was in every way successful.
When the real head returned, he called his managers together and told them that the new man must be removed and the most deserving man in the regular organization appointed in his place. He was met with the protest that no employee was capable of taking up the work and reminded that the new man had
already achieved great success. The president answered that he was willing to lose money in the department for the first year rather than cheapen and disorganize the service by taking away the certainty of promotion and by re-
moving the incentive to study and self-development which had increased the efficiency of
every ambitious employee.
Innumerable examples of the same principle in promotions could be gleaned from the
records of some of the oldest and most progressive houses in the country. In one establishment visited, the quality of whose wares
is strenuously guarded, it was discovered that the chemist and metallurgist in charge of the factory laboratory had been lifted out of one of the departments and supplied with the money to take a specialized course in physics, chemistry, and metallurgy. The advertising manager, the factory engineer, and two or three of the foremen had been given leaves of absence to study and fit themselves for the positions to which their talents and inclinations
drew them. Even among the workmen there was a fixed basis for advancement towards the better jobs and the higher rates, dependent on satisfactory service and output.
To these major considerations in increasing the worth of wages, those companies which
have given the longest attention to the problem add many other inducements.
_An efficient and contented employee has a positive money value to any employer. To hold him and keep him efficient, his personal comfort and needs should be considered in every way not detrimental to the company’s interests_.
As nearly as possible, the ideal in factory location and construction is approached. Some industries have removed bodily to country towns, less for the sake of a cheap site than for the purpose of establishing themselves where housing conditions for workers were good, rents low, the cost of living cheaper, and other factors tending to _*add value_ to every dollar paid in wages were present. Direct appeal was made to the intelligence of employees, whose health is part of their capital, by making and keeping working conditions as healthful and sanitary, as little taxing on eyesight and bodily vigor as circumstances and judicious investment of capital allowed. Scores of towns have been built outright, to benefit employees.
In line with this policy are the systems of benefit insurance for accident and sickness maintained and partly supported by many
companies; the pension systems which have been adopted within the last few years by some of the greatest and most progressive companies in America; the free medical service, both in case of factory accidents and
sickness at home, which other firms provide for employees; and various other activities contributing to the welfare of workers, both during working hours and afterwards.
Employers are coming more and more to see that this is the case and to devote both thought and money to the elimination of conditions which cut wages below par.
_Whatever reduces hazard, discomfort, loss of time, uncertainty, or the cost of living for workers adds value to their wages and is a means of influencing their attitude towards the company_.
Some employers are continually exercised to keep the wages of their men from falling below par. Others are equally solicitous that their men may regard their wages as above
par. This classification is a real one and was made plain by some of the interviews referred to above. Thus in answer to the question, “What special method do you employ to make men satisfied or pleased with their wages?” one employer immediately put his own interpretation on the question. To him it meant,
“What method do you employ to keep your men from being _*dissatisfied_ with their wages?”
His answer was: “By paying them somewhere near what they ask or expect. If we
don’t,” he added, “they go out on strike and we have to compromise.”
The majority of successful employers have advanced beyond this negative, defensive attitude and take a positive and aggressive position in dealing with the problem.
_Instead of assuming their work accomplished when the men are not dissatisfied or rebellious, they do not rest until every dollar paid out in wages is above par in its influence upon efficiency_.
Thus in innumerable ways the progressive employer increases the value of all wages he
pays by making them appeal to the reason and to the instincts of workers in a way un- dreamed of by less enlightened men. The
purpose of wages is to produce a certain psychological effect and to promote the most favorable attitude on the part of the worker. The methods of increasing the purchasing power of money thus spent is one of the most interesting and yet complex problems which the
business man has to face.
This chapter shows the psychological ground for the following statements:–
Employees differ in their response to piecework rates and to salaries. Some respond
more satisfactorily to one and some to the other.
When the development of men for better positions is of prime importance, the piecework system is not to be adopted. If the
quantity of work per unit of wage is of greatest importance, then some form of wage other than fixed salary should be used.
An employee should not be dismissed as hopelessly lazy till he has shown this attitude
in more than one department or has failed to respond to different forms of stimulation.
Changes in wages may often be placed under the authority of some person or committee other than the immediate superiors of the employees involved. This authority may be vested in the direct representatives of the executives or in such a committee as would be formed by representatives of the executives and also employees from the different departments of the establishment.
_Payment of wages, so far as possible, should be made to appeal to the instincts for social distinction and for acquisition as well as to the instinct for self-preservation_.
Wages should never be reduced without a tactful and sincere attempt to convince the men of the necessity of such an act.
Increase in wages may well be made a personal matter. Some firms, however, are most
successful with a mechanical wage system in which employees know exactly the conditions necessary for an increase in wages.
All work should be thoroughly supervised
and inspected so that employees know that good service will be recognized and rewarded.
The policy of filling all positions from the ranks seems growing in favor, since it gives certain hope for advancement and hence
greater satisfaction with the present wage.
The wage may well include a tacit insurance for the future. Employees should be assured that so long as they remain faithful to the firm, their work and pay will continue, and that in accident or old age they will be provided for. Accepted thus, the wage secures
increased service.
CHAPTER VII
PLEASURE
AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY
TO prevent the usual “summer slump” in output, the manager of a factory
employing a hundred or more sewing
girls on piecework tried various methods. He began with closer individual supervision by the forewomen. He set up a bulletin
board and posted daily the names of the five highest operators. He added small cash prizes weekly. He adopted a modified bonus system framed so as not to interfere with the
established average of winter tasks. With each his success was only partial. Ten or a dozen of the more energetic girls responded to the stimulus; on the majority the effect was slight.
The problem was serious. June, July, and August comprised the season when his prod-
ucts were at a premium, when future orders were frequently lost because partial deliveries could not be made immediately. Studying
the question, he noted specifically, what he already knew, that the output dropped as the temperature rose. A cool day sandwiched
into a week of hot weather frequently equaled the best winter records. This fact, coupled with the observation that the spirit of his working force seemed to change with the
change of temperature from warm to cold, helped him to arrive at the right solution.
He made the discovery sitting in the draught of an electric fan. He looked up, made a mental note; and next morning he moved his office “comforter” out to the head of one file of machines. The draught tangled the goods
under the seamstresses’ hands at times, but the half dozen girls within range showed a decided increase in production over the day before and over operators at other tables.
He had found his remedy for the summer slump. Within a week he had installed a
system of large overhead fans and an exhaust
blower and saw his production figures mount to the winter’s best average. From careless, indifferent workers, on edge at trifles and difficult to hold, his force developed steadiness
and efficiency. Not only was the output increased twenty per cent over previous
summers, but the proportion of spoiled work was considerably reduced.
One of the women who had been a subject of the first day’s experiment struck close to the reason of her greater efficiency in her off-hand answer to his inquiry.
“It was a pleasure to work to-day. It was so comfortable after yesterday you just forgot the other girls, forgot you wanted to rest, forgot everything but the seams you were running and the fact that it was a big day. I’m not near so tired as usual either.”
_A successful day is likely to be a restful one, an unsuccessful day an exhausting one. The man who is greatly interested in his work and who finds delight in overcoming the difficulties of his calling is not likely to become so tired as the man for whom the work is a burden_.
The experience related summarizes the experience of every worker who has studied, either on his own initiative or at some other’s instance, the effect upon output secured by the removal of distressing or displeasing conditions from the workroom.
The man who has been engaged in intellectual or manual labor finds himself more or less exhausted when the day’s work is done. The degree of exhaustion varies greatly from day to day and is not in direct proportion to the amount of energy expended or the results attained. A comparatively busy day may
leave him feeling fresh, while at the end of a day much less occupied he may be utterly “dragged out” and weary.
Some men habitually find themselves fatigued, while others ordinarily end the day
with a feeling of vigor. These contrary effects are not necessarily due primarily to disparity in the amount of energy spent or to unequal stores of energy available. The discrepancy in many instances is due to diverse attitudes toward the work or varying
degrees of success which has attended the work.
Pleasure secured in and from work is the best preventive and balm for tired muscles and jaded brains. Dislike or discomfort, on the other hand, adds to toil by sapping the strength of the worker.
Victory in intercollegiate athletic events depends on will power and physical endurance. This is particularly apparent in football. Frequently it is not the team with the
greater muscular development or speed of foot that wins the victory, but the one with the more grit and perseverance. At the conclusion of a game players are often unable to walk from the field and need to be carried. Occasionally the winning team has actually worked the harder and received the more serious injuries. Regardless of this fact, it is usually
true that the victorious team leaves the field less jaded than the conquered team. Furthermore the winners will report next day refreshed and ready for further training, while the losers may require several days to
overcome the shock and exhaustion of their defeat.
Recently I had a very hard contest at tennis. Some hours after the game I was still too tired to do effective work. I wondered why, until I remembered that I had been thoroughly
beaten, and that, too, by an opponent whom I felt I outclassed. I had been in the habit of playing even harder contests and ordinarily with no discomfort–especially when successful in winning the match.
What I have found so apparent in physical exertion is equally true in intellectual labor. Writing or research work which progresses satisfactorily leaves me relatively fresh; unsuccessful efforts bring their aftermath of weariness.
_Intellectual work which is pleasant is stimulating and does not fag one, while intellectual work which is uninteresting or displeasing is depressing and exhausting_.
We can readily trace the source of energy in mechanical devices. The hands of a clock continue in their course because of the energy
locked up in a compressed spring or elevated weight. The gun projects the bullet because of the sudden chemical union of carbon with saltpeter and sulphur. The steam engine
takes its energy from the steam secured by combustion of coal or other fuel.
The work of the human organism is usually classified as muscular or intellectual. In either the expenditure of energy is as dependent upon known causes as is the activity
of the mechanical devices mentioned above.
Every muscular activity is dependent upon muscular cells ready for combustion; without such combustion no muscular work is
performed.
Every intellectual process is likewise dependent upon brain cells ready for combustion,
and no intellectual work can be performed without combustion of these brain cells.
To secure continued activity the clock must be rewound, the gun must be recharged, more coal must be supplied to the engine. In like manner the continuation of muscular and in-
tellectual activity depends upon the restoration of muscle and brain cells. The necessity for renewal is greater or less according to the amount stored in reserve and the rapidity of consumption. A maximum head of steam
may keep the engine running for a long time unless the load is too heavy or the speed too great. Though under certain conditions the amount of muscle and brain energy stored in reserve is large, continuous or rapid activity of necessity expends the reserve and leads to exhaustion.
It is a simple process to rewind the clock, to reload the gun, and to replenish the fuel. To restore muscular and nerve cells is a very delicate process. So wonderful is the human organism, however, that the process is carried on perfectly without our consciousness or volition except under abnormal conditions.
Food and air are the first essentials of this restoration. Indirectly the perfect working of all the bodily organs contribute to the process –especially deepened breathing, heightened pulse, and increase of bodily volume due
to the expansion of the blood vessels running just beneath the skin.
_Here pleasure enters. Its effect on the expenditure of energy is to make muscle and brain
cells more available for consumption, and particularly to hasten the process of restoration or
recuperation_.
The deepened breathing supplies more air for the oxidation of body wastes. The heightened pulse carries nourishment more rapidly
to the depleted tissues and relieves the tissues more rapidly from the poisonous wastes
produced by work. The body, the machine, runs more smoothly, and fewer stops for repairs are made necessary.
In addition to these specific functions, pleasure hastens all the bodily processes which are of advantage to the organism. The hastening may be so great that recuperation keeps
pace with the consumption consequent on efficient labor, with the result that there is little or no exhaustion. This is in physiological terms the reason why a person can do more when he “enjoys” his work or play, and can
continue his efforts for a longer period without fatigue. The man who enjoys his work requires less time for recreation and exercise, for his enjoyment recharges the storage battery of energy.
Not only can I endure more and achieve more when I take pleasure in the task, but I can also secure better results from others by providing for their interest and for their pleasure in what they are doing. This is a fact
which wise merchants and employers have felt intuitively, but in most instances the principle has not been consciously formulated. High-grade stores do much to add to the pleasure of their customers. Every resource of art and architecture is employed to make store rooms appeal to the
appreciation of customers. Clerks are instructed to be obliging and courteous. Employees
are not allowed to dress in a style likely to offend a customer and they are schooled in manners and in speech. Space is devoted to the convenience and comfort of customers.
_The most successful establishments in the world are the ones which do most to please their patrons–not by cutting prices or simply by supplying better goods, but by expediting and making more pleasant the purchase of goods_.
They have discovered that customers inducted into a beautiful shop and surrounded
by tactful obliging clerks are more willing to buy and are more likely to be satisfied with what they purchase. By adding to their patrons’ comfort and pleasure they are able to
accomplish more than by any other selling argument. In like manner, restaurants and hotels have learned that splendid rooms, flowers, spotless linen, well-dressed and courteous waiters, good furniture, and so on, all attract customers and induce them to order more
generously.
Lawyers find in trying cases that it is quite essential to regard the mood of clients, juries, and judges. The pleased man is not suspicious; he does not hesitate in coming to a conclusion, and he is not likely to impute evil
motives to the actions of others. As has been
well said by Dickens, when speaking from the viewpoint of the defendant, “A good, contented, well-breakfasted juryman is a capital
thing to get hold of. Discontented or hungry jurymen always find for the plaintiff.”
The salesman with a pleasing personality is able to sell more goods than others less happily endowed. Some salesmen try to supplement this power–or supply the lack of a
pleasing personality–by “jollying” the possible customer in various ways. Dinners,
theaters, cigars, and various other devices are thus used, and in many instances with success.
Modern business employs such methods less and less, chiefly because the customer recognizes the purpose of the attempt, and either
refuses to accept the “hospitality” or is on his guard to resist the effect. A pleasing personality, however, inspires confidence, tends to put the customer in a good humor and optimistic mood, and results in sales.
A cold, formal manner, ill temper, or a pessimistic outlook, on the contrary, will
handicap the sale of the best merchandise made.
A man is said to be suggestible when he comes to conclusions or acts without due deliberation. Suggestion, then, is nothing but the mental condition which causes us to believe and respond without the normal amount
of weighing of evidence. While in a suggestible condition we are credulous, responsive,
and impulsive. Such a mental condition is favored and induced by pleasure. Discomfort or dissatisfaction with the conditions or surroundings prompts the opposing attitude; we become suspicious and slow to act or believe. While in a suggestible condition, we
place our orders freely and promptly. The merchant who can please his customers and bring them to a suggestible mood before he displays his wares, therefore, has done much to secure generous sales.
Advantageous results from suggestion are not limited to the relationship between buyer and seller.
_The pleased and satisfied employee is open_
_to the suggestions of foreman and manager and responds with an enthusiasm impossible of generation in one dissatisfied from any cause_.
Methods of insuring this pleasure in work for employees are yet in the formative stage. Until recently the want of such methods, indeed, was not felt. The slave driver with the
most profane vocabulary and the greatest recklessness in the use of fist and foot was supposed to be the most effective type of boss. The task system set an irreducible minimum for the day’s work; the employer exacted the task and assumed that no better way of handling men could be devised. Piecework rates
provided a better and more reasonable basis for securing something like a maximum day’s work; bonus and premium systems have carried the incentive of the wage in increasing efficiency to the last point short of co
organization. But all of these systems fall short in assuming that men are machines; that their powers and capacities are fixed quantities; that the efficiency of a well-disposed and industrious employee ought to be proof against
varying conditions or environment; that a man can achieve the desired standard, if only he has the will to achieve it.
_Discipline has become less brutal if not less strict. The laborer works, not alone to avoid poverty and hunger, but to secure the means of pleasure_.
It is not so long since harsh discipline was common both in homes and in business. The boy worked hard because he was afraid not to. The man labored because poverty threatened him if idle. We were in what might be called a “pain economy”; we worked to escape pain. To-day this has largely been changed.
Employers, too, are experimenting boldly with the idea of creating pleasure in work. The first step has been taken in the very general elimination of the old wasteful, neglectful elements of factory and office environment. Comfort, the first neutral element
of pleasure, is provided for employees just as solid foundations are provided for the factory buildings. There is light, heat, and ventilation where a generation ago there were tiny windows,
shadows, lonely stoves, and foul air. Cleanliness is provided and preserved; not a few of
the larger industries employ a regular corps of janitors to keep floors, walls, and windows clean. The walls are tinted; the lights are arranged so as to provide the right illumination without straining the workers’ eyes. The departments are symmetrically arranged; the aisles are wide; the working space is ample; there is no fear to haunt machine tenders that a mis- step or a moment of forgetfulness will entangle them in a neighboring machine. The factory buildings themselves, without being pretentious, have pleasing, simple lines and unobtrusive ornamentation. They look like, and
are, when the human equation does not interfere, _*pleasant_ places to work in.
This is the typical modern factory; thousands can be found in America. On this
foundation of good working conditions and pleasant environment, many companies have built more or less elaborate systems of welfare work, whose effectiveness in creating
pleasure and efficiency seem to depend on the
purpose and spirit of the men behind them. These systems frequently begin with beautification of the factory premises and workrooms
–window boxes, factory lawns, ivied walls, trees, and shrubs–and advance by various stages to lunch rooms for workers, factory libraries, rest rooms for women workers, factory nurses and physicians, and sometimes the development of a social life among employees through picnics, lectures, dances, night schools, and like activities. The methods employed are too diverse and too recent to permit an accurate estimate of their work or a true analysis of the elements of their success. It is incumbent on the employer to find or work out for
himself the method best suited to his individual needs.
_To understand how pleasure heightens the suggestibility of the individual it is but necessary to consider the well-known effects which pleasure has on the various bodily and mental processes_.
The action of pleasure and displeasure upon the muscles of the body is most apparent. With displeasure the muscles of the forehead
contract; folds and wrinkles appear. The corners of the mouth are drawn down; the head bowed; the shoulders stoop and draw together over the breast; the chest is contracted; the fingers of the hand close, and there is also a tendency to bend the arms so as to protect the fore part of the body. In displeasure the body is thus seen to contract and
to put itself on the defensive. It closes itself to outside influences and attempts to “withdraw within its shell.”
With pleasure the forehead is smoothed out; the corners of the mouth are lifted; the head is held erect; the shoulders are thrown back; the chest is expanded; the fingers of the hand are opened, and the arm is ready to go out to grasp any object. The whole body is thrown into a receptive attitude. It is prepared to be affected by outside stimulations
and is ready to profit by them.
That these characteristic bodily attitudes of pleasure and displeasure have an effect on the mind is evident. Bodily and mental attitudes have developed together in the history
of the race. The conditions which cause a receptive attitude of body cause also a suggestible state of mind. The conditions which
call for bodily protection also demand a suspicious and non-responsive attitude of mind.
The bodily and the mental attitudes have become so intimately associated that the presence of one assures the presence of the other.
_Pleasure and a particular attitude of body are indissolubly united, and when these two are present, a suggestible condition of mind seems of necessity to follow_.
Thus by the subtle working of pleasant impressions the customer is disarmed of his suspicion and made ready to respond to the suggestions of the merchant.
The effect of the suggestible attitude of the body, as produced by pleasure, is increased by certain other effects which pleasure produces on the body.
Muscular strength is frequently measured by finding the maximum grip on a recording instrument. The amount of the grip varies from time to time and is affected by various
conditions. One of the phenomena which has been thoroughly investigated is the effect of pleasure and of pain on the intensity of the grip. It is well established that pleasure increases the grip or the available amount of energy. Displeasure reduces the strength.
The total volume of the body would seem to be constant for any particular short interval of time. Such, however, is not the case.
_With pleasure the lungs are filled with air from deepened breathing; the volume of the limbs is increased by the increased flow of blood. Pleasure thus actually makes us larger and displeasure smaller_.
This increase in muscular strength and bodily volume due to pleasure has a very decided effect upon the mind. The increase of muscular strength gives us a feeling of power and assurance, the increase in volume gives us a feeling of expansion and importance. These conditions produced by increase of muscular strength and bodily volume contribute to the general suggestible condition described above.
If I am in a suggestible condition and if I
also feel an unusual degree of assurance in my own powers and importance, I shall have such confidence in the wisdom of my intended acts that there will seem to be no ground for delay. Furthermore the increased action of the heart, due to the effect of pleasure, gives me a feeling of buoyancy and invigoration which adds appreciably to the tendency to action.
We thus see why pleasure renders us more suggestible and hence makes us more apt to purchase proffered merchandise or to respond to the suggestions of our foreman or our executive. We also see why it is that a man may
increase his efficiency by pleasing those with whom he has to work, whether they be customers or employees.
CHAPTER VIII
THE LOVE OF THE GAME
AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY
THE motives discussed in previous chapters are fairly adequate for developing
efficiency in all except the owner or chief executive. The employee may imitate and compete with his equals and his superiors; he may work for his wage, and he may be loyal to the house. To increase the industry and enthusiasm of the head is a task of supreme importance. Interest and enthusiasm must be kindled at the top that the spark may be passed down to the lower levels. It can never travel in the opposite direction.
How, then, is the president to light his fires and transmit his enthusiasm to his managers and other subordinates? Not by working for
money alone, nor through imitation, competition, or loyalty to the works of his own hands. All these may be essential, may be powerful subordinate incentives to action, but singly or collectively they are not adequate. In any organization, the head who attains the maximum of success must depend for his enthusiasm upon an instinctive love of the game.
The subordinate possessing such love of the game and independent of others for his enthusiasm is sure to rise. The subject is, therefore, of vital importance both to the executive and to the ambitious employee. Every employer feels the need of such an attitude towards work, both in himself and in his men.
An attempt will be made in this chapter to comprehend this instinctive love of the game, to discuss to what extent it is inherited and to what extent subject to cultivation, and to analyze the conditions most favorable for its development in respect to one’s own work as well as that of his employees.
The love of the game is in part instinctive,
and its nature is made clear by consideration of certain of the instincts of animals.
The young lion spends much time in pretended stalking of game and in harmless
struggles with his mates. He takes great delight in the exercise of his cunning and in his strength of limb and jaw. Fortunately for the young lion this is the sort of activity best adapted to develop his strength of muscle and his cunning in capturing prey. However, it is not for the sake of the training that the young lion performs these particular acts. He does them simply because he loves to. In like manner the young greyhound chasing his mates and the young squirrel gathering and storing nuts have no thought beyond the instinctive pleasure they find in performing these
functions. To each there is no other form of activity so satisfactory.
Man possesses more instincts than any of the lower animals. One pronounced instinct in all normal males is the hunting instinct. Grover Cleveland went fishing because he loved the sport, not because of the value of
the fish caught. Theodore Roosevelt did not hunt big game in Africa because he was in need of luscious steaks or tawny hides. He was not working solely in the interest of the Smithsonian Institute nor to secure material for his book. Doubtless these were subsidiary motives, but the chief reason why he killed the
game was that he instinctively loves the sport. He endured the hardships of Africa for the same reason that fishermen spend days in the icy water of a trout stream and hunters lie still for hours suffering intense cold for a chance to shoot at a bear.
_For some men, buying and selling is as great a delight as felling a deer. For others the manufacture of goods is as great a joy as landing a
trout. For such a man enthusiasm for his work is unfailing and industry unremittent_.
He is suited to his task as is the cub to the fight, the puppy to the chase, the squirrel to the burying of nuts, or the hunter to the killing of game. His labor always appeals to
him as the thing of supremest moment. His interest in it is such that it never fails to in-
spire others by contagion. For such a man laziness or indifference in business seems anomalous, while industry and enthusiasm are as
natural as the air he breathes and as inexhaustible as the air itself.
By classifying the love of the game as an instinct, we seem to admit that it is born and not developed; that some men possess it and others do not; that if a man possesses it, he does not need to cultivate it, and that if he does not possess, he cannot acquire it. There is doubtless much truth in this, but fortunately it is not the whole truth.
Some instincts are specific–even stereotyped –and not subject to cultivation or
change. Thus the bee’s instinctive method of gathering and storing honey is very specific and definite. The bee is unable to modify its routine to any great extent. The bee which does not instinctively perform the different acts properly will never learn to.
There are other instincts not so stereotyped in manner or constant in degree. The
instincts of man are much more variable than
those of the lower animals and are much more subject to direction, inhibition, or development. If this love of the game were solely a
matter of inheritance, if the business genius were born and not made, and if it could not be cultivated and developed, our hope for the improvement of the race would be small.
Potential geniuses exist in large numbers but fail of discovery because they are not developed. Instincts manifest themselves only in the presence of certain stimulating conditions. They are developed by exercise and
stimulated further by the success attending upon their exercise.
Thus certain conditions, more or less definite, are effective in determining the line along which instincts shall manifest themselves, and the extent to which the instincts shall be developed and then ultimately supplemented by
experience and reason.
Fortunately we have reason to believe that although the business genius must have a good inheritance, yet the inheritance does not determine what its possessor shall make of himself.
Many persons are inclined to overestimate the influence of inheritance in determining success in business. The folly of this attitude is every day becoming more and more
apparent.
The conditions essential for developing the love of the game in business may be
summarized under three heads:–
First, a man will develop a love of the game in any business in which he is led to assume a responsibility, to take personal initiative, to feel that he is creating something, and that he is expressing himself in his work.
As organizations become larger and more complex in their methods, there is a corresponding increase in the difficulty of making the employees retain and develop this feeling of independent and creative responsibility. Business
has become so specialized and the work of the individual seems so petty that he is not likely to feel that he is expressing himself through his work or to retain a feeling of independence. Properly conceived, there is no position in trade or industry which does not warrant such
an attitude. To promote this attitude various devices have been adopted by business firms. Some try to put a real responsibility on each employee and to make him feel it. Others have devised forms of partnership which give numerous employees shares in the business and so help to develop this attitude.
In developing men for responsible positions this attitude must be secured and retained even while they are occupying the lesser positions.
_Few things so stimulate a boy as the feeling that he is responsible for a certain task, that he is expressing himself in it, that he is creating something worth while_.
Many managers and more foremen are
unable to develop this feeling in their subordinates because they assume all the responsibility and allow those under them no share of
it. On the other hand, some executives have the happy faculty of inspiring this attitude in all their men. The late Marshall Field made partners of his lieutenants and encouraged them to assume responsibility and to do
creative work. As a result they developed a love of the game–a fact to which he owed much of his phenomenal success.
The second condition or factor in the development of the love of the game in business is social prestige.
We have but partially expressed the nature of man when we have spoken of him as delighting in independent self-expression, as
being self-centered and self-seeking. Man is inherently social in his nature and desires nothing more than the approval of his fellows. That which society approves we do with enthusiasm. We change our forms of amusements,
our manner of life, and our daily occupations according to the whims of society. Fifteen years ago the riding of bicycles was quite the proper thing, and we all trained down till we could ride a century. To-day we are equally enthusiastic in lowering bogy on the golf course. This change in our ambitions is
not because it is inherently more fun to beat bogy than to ride a century. The change has come about simply because of the change of
social prestige secured from the two forms of amusement.
We may expect to find enthusiastic industry in the accomplishment of any task which
society looks upon as particularly worthy. During the past few decades in America
society has given the capitalist unusual honor and has allowed him monetary rewards unprecedented in the history of the world.
If the capitalist had been honored less than the poet, the preacher, or the soldier, and his material rewards fallen below theirs, our money captains would have been fewer in
number.
In spite of occasional muck rakings, society’s esteem for the capitalist has been unbounded. He is in general the only man with
a national reputation. Society bestows upon him unstinted praise and the most generous rewards for his toil. His rewards are so extravagant that the game seems worthy of every
effort he can put forth. Love of the game has consequently been engendered within him, and his enthusiasm has been unbounded.
This motive of social prestige is less easy of application to the humbler ranks of employees.
Most men engaged in the industries are entirely deprived of the stimulus because their social group does not look with approval upon their daily tasks. It may even despise men for doing well work essential as preparatory to better positions. There are many young men engaged in perfectly worthy employment who prefer that their social set should not know of the exact nature of their work for fear it would be regarded as menial and not sufficiently “swell.”
This disrespect for honest toil is due to various causes. One cause is that nearly all young men–and indeed most older men too–look upon their present positions merely as stepping stones. They look forward to promotion and more interesting work. They and
their social group fail to accord dignity to the work which they are doing at any time.
Another reason why the motive of social prestige has no effect in the more humble
positions is that in business we have practically abandoned the standard of the artist
and adopted that of the capitalist. The artist’s standard is diametrically opposed to the capitalistic standard. We honor the capitalist not for what he does, but for the money
he gets for what he does. We honor the artist for what he does and never because of the monetary considerations which follow his creation.
_To substitute the standard of the artist for the standard of the capitalist would be impossible in business, yet a harmonious working of the two is possible_.
Such a harmony was probably present in the old industrial guilds, which developed a class consciousness creating its own ideals. Within the guild the most skillful workman had the highest honor. The work itself, independent of the money which might be received for it, was uppermost in the worker’s mind.
The executive seeking to stimulate love of the game among his workmen should in some way see that social approval attaches itself
to the work as such and not to the wage which is secured by means of the work. The workmen must be given an interest in the work as well as in the wage.
Executives everywhere find that “getting together” with others engaged in the same work is most stimulating. We are inspired by the presence of others engaged in the same sort of work and giving approval to success in our particular field.
_The third condition for securing a love of the game is that the work itself must appeal to the individual as something important and useful_.
Its useful function must be apparent, and the necessity and advantage of perfect
performance must be emphasized. I play golf because the game permits me to assert myself and engage in independent and exhilarating activity. My devotion to my professional tasks, however, is dependent upon the fact that I regard psychology, whether the work be in research or instruction, as of the greatest importance to science and to mankind in
general. The work as a whole and all the
details of it seem to me to be important. In performing my daily tasks they seem to me to be worthy of the most persistent and enthusiastic effort.
Doubtless there are classes of work incapable of appealing to individuals as does my work to me. But in many instances work seems menial and ignoble because it is not understood. It is not seen in its relationships and broader aspects. The single task as performed by the
individual is so small and so specialized that it does not seem worth while.
The dignity of labor demands that the workman should respect the work of his
hands.
He should look upon his accomplished
tasks as of inherent dignity independent of the monetary recompense to be received. To keep the workman’s efficiency keyed up, the employer should see to it that this broader aspect of labor is emphasized and that the day laborer finds some reason for his labor besides his wage. It is the only game he may ever have time to play. It is to the interest of
himself, his employer, and society at large that he should enter enthusiastically into it and be ennobled by it.
_Professional, technical, and vocational schools are serving a noble function in emphasizing the dignity of the work for which they are preparing young men_.
They are more and more presenting the broader aspects of the subjects taught. Even the altruistic and extremely technical aspects of the subject are found profitable. The narrower and apparently the more practical course does not result so successfully as the broader and more cultural ones.
The boy who goes direct into work from the public school is not likely to c
his task with the general activity of the establishment, and he is not likely to see how he is in anyway contributing to the welfare of humanity by his work. He needs to be shown how each line of industry and profession serves a great function, has an interesting history, and is vitally connected with many of the most important human interests. He should learn
to see how the different cogs are essential and worthy factors in the total process. The boy who thus comprehends his task looks upon it and is inspired by it in a way that would otherwise be quite impossible.
Some of the most successful houses have been so impressed with the importance of this form of industrial education that at their own expense they have established night schools for new employees as well as for those who have been years with the firm. Not only are the students taught how to perform their respective tasks, but a broader program is attempted. Sometimes an attempt is made to lead the students to appreciate the dignity of the particular activity in which the firm is engaged.
The history of the firm is then fully presented so that the employees will comprehend the part the house has actually taken in the world. Some firms try to show each man how his
work is related to the work of the house as a whole and to other departments. In various ways schools and individual firms are successfully attempting to inject a nobler regard
and appreciation for labor. The result is most gratifying and manifests itself in increased enthusiasm and other expressions of the increased love of the game.
The three conditions which we have been considering for developing the love of the game are quite different, appeal to the different sides of the individual, and are not all equally applicable to the young man who
seeks to become a leader among his fellows or to the manager of men who seeks to develop leaders.
The attitude of independent, creative responsibility appeals to our individualistic and
self-centered self. It is an attitude that may be assumed by the ambitious young man and encouraged by the manager. It is absolutely indispensable for developing this much-coveted love of the game in any form of useful endeavor. It is readily assumed or developed in the chief executive, but may be developed in subordinates with great difficulty.
Social prestige appeals to our selfishly social natures, and yet the desire to secure this
social favor is in the main ennobling. It is of special value to the manager of large groups of men. The manager may create the social atmosphere which is most favorable to the development of the love of the game in his particular industry.
The last condition discussed, regard for the work as important and as useful, makes its appeal to our nobler and what we might in some instances speak of as our altruistic selves. This condition is equally serviceable to the ambitious youth and to the successful superintendent of men. We all look out for number
one, but appeals made to the higher self are not unavailing. We are most profoundly stirred when we are appealed to from all sides. However, the love of the game will never be universal in the professional and industrial world. We can scarcely imagine the millennium when all employees would cease to despise their toil and cease to serve for pay alone.
CHAPTER IX
RELAXATION
AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY
_Be not therefore anxious for the Morrow_
A STUDY of the lives of great men is
both interesting and profitable. In such a study we are amazed at the
records of the deeds of the men whom the world calls great. The results of the labors of Hercules seem to be approximated according to many of these truthful accounts.
In studying the lives of contemporary business men two facts stand out prominently.
The first is that their labors have brought about results that to most of us would have seemed impossible. Such men appear as giants, in comparison with whom ordinary men sink to the size of pygmies.
The second fact which a study of successful
business men (or any class of successful men) reveals is that they never seem rushed for time.
_Men noted for efficiency almost never appear to be hurried. They have plenty of time to accomplish their tasks, and therefore can afford to take their work leisurely_.
Such men have time to devote to objects in no way connected with their business. It cannot be regarded as accidental that this characteristic of mind is found so commonly among
successful men during the years of their most fruitful labor.
According to the American Ideal, the man who is sure to succeed is one who is continuously “keyed up to concert pitch,” who is ever alert and is always giving attention to his business or profession. As far as the captains of industry are concerned, such is not the case. They devote relatively few hours a day to their strenuous toil, but they keep a cool head and a steady hand. They are always composed,
never confused, but ever ready to attack a new problem with their maximum ability. They
follow the injunction of Christ expressed in His Sermon on the Mount: “Be not therefore anxious for the morrow.”
Of all the nations of the world, Americans are supposed to be the hardest working. We have attributed our industrial success to the fact that there is a bustle and snap to our work which are not equaled in any other country. But recent students of the industrial world are now telling us that even in the case of day and piece labor this characteristic is frequently a weakness rather than an advantage. They say that the American product “suffers from hurry, want of finish, and want of solidity.”– “Industrial Efficiency,” Arthur Shadwell, Vol. 1, p. 26.
_In the great middle class of American society, there is a lack of repose and an absence of relaxation which astonishes foreign observers_.
They tell us that we are wild-eyed and too intense. Dr. Clauston of Scotland is quoted as saying:–
“You Americans wear too much expression in your faces. You are living like an army
with all its reserves engaged in action. The duller countenance of the British population betokens a better scheme of life. They suggest stores of reserved nervous force to fall back upon, if any occasion should arise that requires it. The inexcitability, this presence at all times of power not used, I regard as the great safeguard of our British people. The other thing in you gives me a sense of insecurity, and you ought somehow to tone yourselves down. You do really carry too much expression, you take too intensely the trivial moments of life.”
The late Professor William James of Harvard makes the following pertinent remark
concerning the overtension of Americans:–
“Your intense, convulsive worker breaks down and has bad moods so often that you never know where he may be when you most need his help,–he may be having one of his `bad days.’ We say that so many of our
fellow-countrymen collapse, and have to be sent abroad to rest their nerves, because they work so hard. I suspect that this is an im-
mense mistake. I suspect that neither the nature nor the amount of our work is accountable for the frequency and severity of our breakdowns, but that their cause lies rather in those absurd feelings of hurry and having no time, in that breathlessness and tension, that anxiety of feature and that solicitude of results, that lack of inner harmony and ease, in short, by which with us the work is apt to be accompanied, and from which a European who should
do the same work would nine times out of ten be free. . . . It is your relaxed and easy worker, who is in no hurry, and quite thoughtless most of the while of consequences, who
is your efficient worker; and tension and anxiety, and present and future, all mixed up together in one mind at once, are the surest
drags upon steady progress and hindrances to our success.”–“Talks to Teachers,” pp. 214- 218.
Mr. Joseph Lyons, who is recognized as one of the particularly active and efficient men of England, has taken great interest in the way things are done in America. And after ob-
serving us at work here he expressed himself as dissatisfied with the tension under which we work. His words areas follows:–
“I do not believe in what Americans call hustling. The American hustler in my opinion does not represent the highest type of
human efficiency. He wastes a lot of nervous power and energy instead of accomplishing the greatest possible amount of work for the force expended. Judging the American hustler from my observation of him in his own country, I should say that the American hustler
shows a lack of adaptation of means to ends because he puts more mental, physical, and nervous energy into his work at all times than it demands. Regarded as a machine he is not an economical one. He breaks down too often and has to be laid off for repairs too often. He tries to do everything too fast.”
When Mr. Lyons was asked to explain how he had been able to accomplish so much without hustling, he replied: “By organizing myself to run smoothly as well as my business;
by schooling myself to keep cool, and to do
what I have to do without expending more nervous energy on the task than is necessary; by avoiding all needless friction. In consequence, when I finish my day’s work, I feel
nearly as fresh as when I started.”– Quoted from _New York Herald_, Aug. 30, 1910.
RELAXATION A PHYSIOLOGICAL NECESSITY
_The necessity for relaxation is adherent in the human organism. Even those life processes which seem to be constant in their activity require frequent periods of complete rest_.
The heart beats regularly and at short intervals, but after each beat its muscles come
into a state of complete relaxation and enjoy a refreshing rest, even though it be but for a moment. Likewise the lungs seem to be
unceasing in their activity, but a careful study of their action discloses the fact that every contraction is followed by a perfect relaxation, and that the rest secured between successive respirations is adequate for recuperations.
In all bodily processes the same alternation is discovered. No bodily activity is at all con-
tinuous. Mental processes, too, can be continued for but a very short time. By attempting to eliminate these periods of rest for bodily and mental acts, we merely exhaust without a corresponding increase in efficiency. The laws of nature are firm and countenance no infringement.
The periods between activity and rest, as well as the durations of the two processes, may be changed. Thus, up to a certain limit, the periods devoted to activity may follow more rapidly and endure longer. There is, however, a danger point which may not be passed with impunity. The danger signal
may manifest itself in several ways: The over- trained athlete becomes “stale”; the over- worked brain worker becomes nervous; the overworked laborer becomes indifferent and generally inefficient.
In all these and in similar instances, the amount of energy expended is out of proportion to the results of the labor. The athletic trainer has learned to guard against overtraining and is severely condemned for making
such a mistake. The brain worker often regards overwork as a commendable thing. However, sentiment is changing. The employer of labor is finding that rest and relaxation are essential to the greatest efficiency. Employees accomplish as much in a week of six days as they do in one of seven. The reduction in the hours of daily toil has not decreased the total efficiency.
The periods devoted to rest are not as profitable as they should be unless they are actually devoted to recuperation. It may be that some of the time supposed to be devoted to rest should be devoted to thoughts of toil. Again during the hours of work there should be a freedom from jerkiness, breathlessness, nervousness, and anxiety. It is not necessarily true that the greatest and most constant display of energy accompanies the greatest presence of energy. The tugboat in the river is
constantly blowing off steam and making a tremendous display of energy, while the ocean liner proceeds on its way without noise and without commotion. The still current runs
deep, and the man who is actually accomplishing the most is frequently–perhaps always the man who is making the least display of his strength. He can afford to be calm and collected, for he is equal to his task. The man
who frets and fumes, who is nervous and excited, who is strung up to such a pitch that
energy is being dissipated in all directions– such a man proclaims his weakness from the housetop.
_Many business men know they are going at a pace that kills, and at the same time they feel that they are accomplishing too little. For such, the pertinent question is, How may I reduce the expenditure of energy without reducing the efficiency of my labor_?
The ability to relax at will and to remain in an efficient condition, but free from nervousness, is a thing which may be acquired more
or less completely by all persons. It is accomplished by a voluntary control of the muscles
of the arms, legs, and face, by breathing slowly and deeply, and by placing the body in a condition of general relaxation.
This antecedent condition of relaxation brings all the forces of the mind and body more completely under control and makes it possible to marshal them more effectively. It also gives one a feeling of control and assurance, which minimizes the possibility of confusion and embarrassment in the presence of an important task. The possibility of developing
the power of relaxation by means of special training is being taken advantage of in teaching acts of skill, in all forms of mental
therapeutics, and in numerous other instances where overtension hinders the acquisition or accomplishment of a useful act. By assuming the attitude of assurance and composure, the actual condition is produced in a manner most astonishing to those who have never attempted it. No man can do his best when he is hurried and fearful, when he is expending energy in a manner as useless as a tug blowing off steam. That relief is within his own power seems to him impossible. He is not aware of his power of will to change from his state of anxiety to one of composure.
That the gospel of relaxation is more important to the chief executive than to the day
laborer is quite apparent. Even in the case of the day laborer the crack of the lash and the curse of the driver may have been capable of securing a display of activity among the laborers, but such means are not comparable in
efficiency to the more modern methods. Laborers are now given more hours of rest, are
not kept fearful and anxious, but are given short hours of labor and long hours of rest. They are judged by the actual results of their labor rather than by their apparent activity.
_When accomplishing intellectual work of any sort, it is found that worry exhausts more than labor_.
Anxiety as to the results is detrimental to efficiency. The intellectual worker should periodically make it a point to sit in his chair with the muscles of his legs relaxed, to breathe deeply, and to assume an attitude of composure. Such an attitude must not, of course,
detract from attention to the work at hand, but should rather increase it. Upon leaving
his office, the brain worker should cultivate the habit of forgetting all about his business, except in so far as he believes that some particular point needs special attention out of
office hours. The habit of brooding over business is detrimental to efficiency and is also suicidal to the individual.
It is, of course, apparent to all that relaxation may mean permanent indifference, and
such a condition is infinitely worse than too great a tension. An employer who is never keyed up to his work, and an employee who goes about his work in an indifferent manner, are not regarded in the present discussion.
A complete relaxation of the body often gives freedom to the intellect. The inventor is often able, when lying in bed, to devise his apparatus with a perfection impossible when he attempts to study it out in the shop. The forgotten name will not come till we cease straining for it. Very many of the world’s famous poems have been conceived while
the poet was lying in an easy and relaxed condition. This fact is so well recognized by some
authors that they voluntarily go to bed in the daytime and get perfectly relaxed in order that their minds may do the most perfect work. Much constructive thinking is done in the quiet of the sanctuary, when the monotony of the liturgy or the voice of the speaker has soothed the quiet nerves, and secured a composed condition of mind. The preacher would be surprised if he knew how many costumes had been planned, how many business
ventures had been outlined, all because of the soothing influence of his words.
_This relaxation of the body not only gives freedom to the intellect, but it is the necessary preliminary condition for the greatest physical exertion and for the most perfect execution of any series of skillful acts_.
Mr. H. L. Doherty not only held the world’s championship in tennis, but he was the despair of his opponents, because of the apparent lack of exertion which he put forth to meet their volleys. So far as an observer could judge, Mr. Doherty kept only those muscles tense that were used in the game. The muscles
especially necessary for tennis were also, so far as possible, kept lax except at the instant for making the stroke. Partly because of this relaxation, his muscles were free from exhaustion and under such perfect control that at the critical moment he was able to exert a strength that was tremendous and a skill that was amazing.
In a very striking paragraph Professor James has shown the reason why poise and efficiency of mind are incompatible with tenseness of muscles:–
“By the sensations that so incessantly pour in from the overtense excited body the overtense and excited habit of mind is kept up; and the sultry, threatening, exhausting, thunderous inner atmosphere never quite clears away. If you never give yourself up wholly to the chair you sit in, but always keep your leg and body muscles half contracted for a rise; if you breathe eighteen or nineteen instead of sixteen times a minute, and never quite breathe out at that,–what mental mood can you be in but one of inner panting and expectancy, and how
can the future and its worries possibly forsake your mind? On the other hand, how can they gain admission to your mind if your brow be unruffled, your respiration calm and complete, and your muscles all relaxed?”–“Talks to Teachers,” p. 211.
In ancient Greece, one of the chief functions of the school was to prepare citizens to profit by the hours of freedom from toil. Herbert Spencer, in his great work on Education, gives a prominent place to training for leisure hours. Such training is attracting the attention of the American educator to-day as never before. A few decades ago the majority of the American population lived on farms, spent long hours of the day in toil, and scarcely thought of recreation. We have now become an urban population,
the hours of labor have been greatly reduced during the days of the week, and Sunday
is a day in which the laborer is found in neither the factory nor the church.
The employer of laborers fears the effect of long hours of freedom from toil. He has
prophesied that such hours would be spent
in dissipations. He feared that as a result his laborers would enter their shops with unsteady hands and sleepy brains. That such
results are all too often due to freedom from toil, no one would deny. That they are not necessary will also be admitted. One of the problems of the American people as a whole,