Facts and Fictions of Life

by Helen H. Gardener

"If any statement in this application is in any respect untrue, it voids the policy, and all payments which shall have been made revert to the company," gives a wide field and doubtful motive of action when it is remembered that many of the questions are of such a nature that not one man in a thousand could be absolutely sure that he knew the correct reply.

"At what age did your grandparents die?" All four of them. How many men are sure that they can answer that question correctly? "Of what did each one die?" You do not know. You have a general idea. You express it. You pay your premiums ten years. You die (one doctor says of consumption—another says of blood-poison); the company finds some old person who says your grandmother on your father's side died of the same thing, and there is a rumor that along-forgotten (or never known) country cousin also had it.

The company sends a representative to the widow.. He assures her (and by the very terms of the contract, signed by the dead husband, he is right and she is helpless) that they can refuse to pay a cent; that her husband got his policy by fraud—although no indication of his physical disorder appeared to any of the numerous officers employed by the company for its own protection, when he made his application, and by general reports he was (and believed himself to be) a sound man.

He assures her that they want to be generous rather than just, and if she will sign a release, or "compromise," she will be given a small part of the sum named in the policy. He makes her feel the necessity of keeping this bargain a secret, lest other policy holders object to the company paying anything on the life of one who "attempted a fraud" upon them! He impresses upon her that in case of contest she could get absolutely nothing; that she is poor, and the company is rich and strong; and if he fails to arouse her gratitude for his generosity in offering to pay her anything whatever, he usually succeeds in intimidating her in her poverty and distress. A sparrow in the hand is worth more than an eagle on Mount Washington to a widow with a hungry family, especially if the eagle has successfully maimed his pursuer in the beginning of the flight.

The company knows this. The widow knows it. The conclusion is therefore certain before the premises are stated, and the "compromise" is made or the claim quietly dropped. It is easy to say that a man died of some bad habit unknown to his family, and his family would rather forego their claim than drag into light, or into disgrace, the memory of the loved dead. All this is well understood by those on the "inside," and by thousands of sad hearts that dare not speak. Is there no remedy for all this? Is there no way that a useful and powerful business can be rid of features which make it both dangerous and ghoulish?

The recent steps taken by the best companies are undoubtedly in the right direction, as those still using the old forms of contract will sooner or later learn. But there is room yet for improvement even in the best forms written to-day. The fairest insurance contract written still has room for improvement.

Is there no way to protect these great corporations against the frauds of individuals, and at the same time protect the individual against the frauds of the corporations?

Must life-insurance contracts be absolutely one-sided, and that be the side of the strong against the weak; the guarded against the unguarded; the living against the dead? It seems to me that this is wholly unnecessary. A life-insurance company which has the agents, the doctors, the medical directors, and inspectors all on its side can well afford to offer a fair field—a plain, fair contract—to its patrons and then pay its debts like any other debtor when its obligation falls due. If it can not find out within a year (with all the machinery in its own hands), and while the man is alive, that he is a bad risk, it is too late to make the discovery after he is dead. If the indications are sufficiently in his favor for them to accept his money from year to year while he lives, they are sufficiently favorable to him for his family to receive the company's money when he has died.

Life-insurance is too valuable and too necessary a means of provision for the family for it to be overlaid with abuses that make many men hesitate to avail themselves of its benefits; and which put a power for evil into strong hands, and make temptation to do wrong inevitable and constant.

It is said by some, whose attention has been called to this important subject, that the form of contract does not so much matter, since almost any court or jury will decide a suit against the company, and in favor of the family, in any event. This is taking it for granted that the heirs are in position, and are willing, to bring suit, and risk the reputation of the dead as well as the financial drain. But, as a matter of fact, this is not true—nor is it desirable that it should be. The rights of these corporations should be as jealously guarded by our courts as the rights of the individual; and perverted justice is a dangerous tool to handle. The man who signs an oppressive contract depending upon a court to nullify it after he is dead, is clinging to a rope of sand. The letter of the bond is what the court is bound to enforce, and every man should be sure that he signs only such as shall deal fairly with his heirs on that basis.