One of the ways of increasing capital is by lowering the cost of production and thereby gaining a wider market. Better organisation and the introduction of automatic machinery enable the capitalist to do this. He risks his capital in the hope of greater returns, and no one can deny him the right to better his organisation, to use his brains and energy and wealth to attain this end.
One of the most striking and successful methods of organisation is this of scientific management, of which the Reward System is a part. To oppose the system, to oppose the introduction of machinery, is not to make things better. If one could say we will not have efficient management, we will not have automatic machinery, the case would be different; but this system and this machinery were being introduced before the war, and the installation of automatic machinery has been increased enormously since the war began. This class of machinery has come to stay, and, now that the urgency of war work has forced engineers to realise their possibilities, they are looking forward to the application of automatic machines to thousands of jobs that were previously done on general machines.
Now, automatic machinery is the same under any system of management or wage payment. The same amount of manual skill is required, and the same amount of mental application. But whereas day work means constant close supervision by the foreman, and piece work means mutual dishonesty, the Reward System means a keen interest in both the quality and quantity of the work produced.
Under what system can work on automatic machines be made pleasant? The usual reply of the idealist is to draw a comparison between handicrafts and automatic machinery, dwelling on the skill and interest and beauty of the one and the deadening monotony of the other. But when a man is compelled to take up a handicraft for the sake of a living—and this always was the case—there is not so much difference between being compelled to work on an automatic machine and being compelled, for example, to throw a shuttle through the frame of a hand loom, which is but a man-driven machine, after all. And, to be fair, the comparison should be completed, and the comparative luxury enjoyed by present workers set against the bare, cheerless existence of the artisan of the Middle Ages.
It is assumed that the craftsman of those days had a tremendous pride in his work, but it is to be doubted whether he was really so proud all the time of the work whereby he earned a miserable pittance. How many of those workers would gladly have given up their beloved crafts and tended automatic machinery if they could have obtained the conditions of the present day by doing so!
The conditions obtaining in the Ford motor factories at present show what influences and governs the actions of the worker. Mr. Henry Ford put into practice a bonus scheme which included all workers who had certain qualifications. For some time after this became known the Ford Company received over one thousand letters a day from workers desiring employment. The conditions of the work did not weigh with them at all, but, Mr. Ford being what he is, the conditions were, of course, excellent. This gave the Ford Company the pick of the workers of the United States. As far as can be ascertained, there is great satisfaction among the Ford workers, and it is considered a privilege to get a situation with the Ford Company. Now, an essential feature of the work in this firm is team work. The work is split up into small elements arranged so that, as the work is passed from one worker to another, the least time is taken on each element. Repetition work is the order of the day, and even the man whose work for over three years was to give two turns to No. 16 nut did not leave because the work was too monotonous.
The fact remains that, as a rule, workers do not object to monotony so long as they are well paid for the work, and there does not appear to be any increase of idiocy in the Ford shops owing to the dulness and once-and-for-ever nature of the work.
To produce work by handicraft means a life of unremitting toil for the craftsman, and even then the cost of the finished article is so great, if the worker is to get but a very moderate return, that only the wealthy could buy it. This postulates a wealthy class which is diametrically opposed to the principles of the idealist.
The craftsman would have neither leisure nor opportunity for the study and appreciation of finer things, and in the end it means poverty, and poverty means ignorance and misery.[2]