Confessions of a Railroad Signalman

by James O. Fagan

It is not surprising, therefore, that figures and returns like the above, repeated from year to year with the same marked and, indeed, ever-increasing disparity, should give rise to widespread discussion and criticism, consequently leading up to a better understanding of the nature of the problem that is now submitted, with all necessary facts and illustrations, practically for the first time, to the American people. For it must be understood, to begin with, that, from its very nature and from the circumstances connected with the safety problem, the intervention of public opinion and of some kind of public action is imperatively called for. Numerous difficulties, mistakes, and inconsistencies relating to the handling of trains, to the conduct of employees, and to the present status of the railroad manager, have been exposed and explained during the course of these confessions. But, after all, these are merely side issues and details of the service; the real heart of the situation, as insisted upon from first to last in these pages, is significantly outlined in a recent issue of the “Engineering Magazine,” as follows:

“Even more serious, as a predisposing cause of railroad accidents, is the lamentable lack of discipline, which is becoming increasingly manifest in these days of labor-union interference. This has been carried to such a point that the officials of our railroads have no longer that direct control of the employees which is absolutely essential to the maintenance of discipline. Until this condition has been changed it is hopeless to look for any material reduction in the number of killed and injured on our railroads.”

Such, then, being the truthful and logical diagnosis of the situation, the final and most important question of all remains to be considered. From individuals in no way connected with railroad life, as well as from employees and managers in different sections of the country, the general interest in the matter has been expressed in the following inquiries: “What are you now going to do about it? Granting this and granting that, what is your plan of construction or reconstruction? What can you propose as a practical method of reform?”

After a careful review and consideration of the conditions that obtain on American railroads at the present day, these significant and final questions, in the opinion of the writer, must all be answered in terms of external authority. It is really too bad to have to come to the conclusion that no reform can be expected, or indeed is possible, from within. The men, the organizations, and the managements must now be called upon to submit to publicity and to correction, to be administered by the stern arm of the law. A proper adjustment of the interests of the men and the management, with a view to the safety of travel, is, under present conditions, absolutely impossible.

Ample opportunity and time have been afforded these parties to solve the safety problem between themselves, without outside interference. The Canadian government has already come to the conclusion that it is useless to wait any longer, and accordingly it has taken measures to safeguard the rights of the traveling public. In like manner, just as soon as the government of the United States arrives at the same conclusion and sees fit to designate carelessness on a railroad as a crime, punishable in the same way as carelessness in driving horses or automobiles on a crowded thoroughfare, a revolution will take place in the service on American railroads. When the management and the men are called upon to face public examination and public criticism, there will be no more hair-splitting in the interpretation and administration of discipline. The men and the management will then very quickly recognize the necessity of adjusting their differences and combining their forces in the interests of the public. In a word, authority will become supreme, and it will not take long for it to assert itself in terms of effectual discipline. Such, according to my view of it, is the only possible solution of the safety problem on American railroads.

All other topics and questions, although closely related to the problem, are in reality merely matters of detail. For example, the lack of adequate supervision means, of course, unchecked negligence, and points the way to no end of trouble; and yet the most comprehensive system of supervision imaginable would be of little use, unsupported by a reasonable and effective system of discipline. While, therefore, my opinion as to the immediate necessity for the intervention of the national government holds good, a general description of the American method of discipline, upon which the efficiency of the service is, in the mean time, absolutely dependent, should nevertheless prove interesting to all classes of readers.

To a great extent, a system of discipline represents a state of mind, the ideals of an individual or of a community, and sometimes, under certain special conditions, an economical habit or business necessity. In the old countries of Europe, where the public interests smother individual rights as well as the schedules of labor organizations, the railroads have taken for their motto, “He that sinneth shall die.” Cassio, faithful and true, with an honorable and spotless record in the public service, falls from grace in an unguarded moment, and is sorrowfully yet absolutely doomed to dismissal by the high-minded Othello. “Nevermore be officer of mine.” Such in spirit, and, to a great extent, in actual railroad life, is the European interpretation of discipline. The European officials work upon the plan, and with the unswerving determination to protect the traveling public at all costs. The record of accidents on their railroads leaves little doubt as to the correctness of their methods of railroading. On the other hand, in the United States, the railroad manager, backed to a certain extent by public opinion, says to an offending employee, “Your sin has enlightened and purified you, go back to your job.” This is the mental method of discipline. A man is called upon to think, without at the same time being called upon to feel.

On a railroad nowadays, when a “green” man makes a mistake, he is quietly informed by his superintendent that five or ten demerit marks have been placed against his name on the record book. The shock he receives on the commission of his first mistake is not very striking. He has perhaps been called upon to think, but in order to give his thoughts pungency and direction, he should also have been called upon to feel. Good habits are induced by feeling plus thought much more surely and expeditiously than by thought alone. Feeling plus thought is the scientific route. Some day, perhaps, thought alone will prove sufficient, but a railroad is no place to experiment with Utopian possibilities. What is necessary is the best and quickest way to originate good habits. The whole nervous system in man is first organized by habit. The feeling plus thought method of discipline is humane as well as scientific, and is the most potent instigator and prompter of habit.

According to Webster, discipline is “subjection to severe and systematic training.” In the American method of discipline on railroads, there is no systematic training of any kind; sensation or feeling plays no part in it, and thought is left to take care of itself.

Theoretically, the mental process has a good deal to be said in its favor; but in actual operation the system has proved to be disastrous, and the records on American railroads illustrate only too eloquently the fallacy of the principle, under any conditions, where human lives are at stake. It is simply a question between the ethics and philosophy of Portia, and the blind impartiality of Othello as applied to the railroad business. In social affairs and in relation to conduct between individuals, the standards of Portia are gracious and commendable; but on a battleship, in the army, and just as surely on a railroad, the services of the rugged Othello will be found at all times to be the most effectual. In the United States, however, there is a certain altruistic sentiment that would fain submerge the ethics and principles of the old-time disciplinarian. Not only does this criticism apply to affairs on a railroad, but our educational methods, in every direction, seem to be threatened with the same peril. On all sides there now appears to be a disinclination to use authority. There seems to be something in the nature of a national kick against constraint or discipline of any kind. The ideals and rugged characteristics of American manhood, both on railroads and in our schools, are threatened with the coddling process.