[Footnote 1: Round Table, Sept. 1914, p. 708.]
[Footnote 2: Scientific Management, by F.W. Taylor, p. 47.]
So far the tremendous significance of "scientific management" has not been fully recognised. Properly understood, it is the complement to the industrial revolution, which by the more extensive use of machinery, etc., increased the efficiency of capital. The present movement aims at a similar increase in the efficiency of labour as an agent of production. The new revolution in industry has as yet merely begun, because employers, in spite of the motive of self-interest, are conservative; but it will receive an enormous impetus from the conditions arising out of the war. Like the introduction of machinery and factory industry a century and a half ago and onward, it may be accompanied by widespread evils and cruel exploitation. Indeed, there is every likelihood that the methods will be distorted and misused. By their careful application there is no doubt that the output of the labourer can be increased without the expenditure of greater effort than before, but even then there would be the tendency towards becoming de-humanised. This, however, might be overcome by shorter hours and higher wages, which would raise the standard of comfort and widen the worker's interests. Unwisely used, "scientific management" will become an instrument for shackling the worker, and increasing at a great rate the wealth of the capitalist. It will be freely admitted that anything that will increase the productivity of the labourer, and therefore the wealth of the community, is advantageous, provided there is an equitable distribution of the product, and that the effects on the working members of the State are not socially injurious. But the hidden evils that may manifest themselves are very real, and it is important that not only the workers, but the State should be prepared to save the good and prevent the evil. There will, however, be large numbers of employers of labour who will not avail themselves of the new-fangled methods, and who will endeavour to increase production by the old policy of "driving." And even without driving, wage-earning labour under present conditions may be carried on under circumstances unfavourable to industrial efficiency, and for hours inimical to the welfare of the community and actually injurious to industrial productivity. In the future the State will be more closely concerned with industry and commerce than hitherto; there will probably be a more clearly defined State policy aimed at the encouragement of production. Its view will be wider than that of the individual employer, and we may expect therefore, providing there is no serious reaction after the strain of the war, that the State will impose working conditions which will favour maximum production in the long run. It will be to the interest of the community to maximise the efficiency of the industrial system; and enlightened statesmanship will overhaul our existing code of industrial laws to achieve this object as far as possible, as well as to guard the community against the evils inherent in a misapplication of the principles of "scientific management."[1]
[Footnote 1: See an article on "Next Steps in Factory and Workshop Reform," by Arthur Greenwood, in the Political Quarterly for September 1914.]
After the war, unemployment is likely to increase. The work of new production will be put into operation only gradually; there will be every inducement to economise the use of labour as far as possible; wages during the depression will most probably fall; there will be disaffection in the ranks of the trade unionists; the possible consolidation of industries into the hands of fewer employers will increase the strength of the masters; the funds of the trade unions will be depleted by the heavy strain on their resources, and subject to a further drain after the war. The outlook of the trade union movement is, therefore, far from bright. It will be generally agreed that the bankruptcy or serious impoverishment of the unions of this country would be nothing less than a national disaster; but unless action of some kind is taken, they will become greatly weakened and almost impotent, and one great bulwark against unjust encroachments upon the rights of labour will be removed.
It is not improbable, however, that the community will indirectly assist the trade unions by the steps taken to mitigate the evils which the war will leave in its train. The army instead of being immediately disbanded may be gradually dismissed over a period of, say, five years; the widows and dependants of soldiers and sailors, and those who have returned maimed and crippled from the war, may be adequately provided for, and, together with children of twelve and thirteen, kept off the labour market; the larger schemes of the Development Commission may be put into operation; the legal minimum wage may be extended to all low-paid trades. In these and other ways the community may deal comprehensively with the problems it has to face. The difficulties of the aftermath period will call for both clear-sighted action and public spirit; and if it is to be bridged over successfully, the transition from a war to a peace footing must be gradual; the community must continue its state of mobilisation in order to meet the enemy within the gates. Provided the united wisdom of the nation is thrown into the task, the evil after-effects of the war may be, if not altogether avoided, restricted within narrow limits. At the bottom, therefore, the future course of events depends upon the temper and spirit of the people at the close of the war.
3. Social Effects and the New Outlook.—The European conflict will probably exercise a strong sobering influence upon the minds of the people. The gravity of the crisis, whatever victories may crown our arms, will be reflected in the gravity of the people. A new dignity, a greater self-respect, a deeper earnestness may arise among the mass of the people, to which the conduct of our soldiers in the field will contribute. High qualities of leadership win their admiration; but for them they claim no credit. The army is officered for the most part by people of a higher social standing, whose qualities they will willingly admit; but the social gulf debars them from gaining inspiration from their achievements. In the case of the rank and file, largely drawn from their own class, the effect is different. The Tommy is flesh of their flesh and blood of their blood. The qualities he displays reflect credit upon his class. The working man is not unmindful of the high opinion in which the British private has been held by a line of continental soldiers from Napoleon to Bernhardi. The exploits of his fellows in the field have given the lie to stories of deterioration; and working people are experiencing a sense of pride in their class which may have no inconsiderable effect on their attitude regarding social developments in the future.
Already the national temper has not submitted without protest to the disgraceful sweating of our troops merely because their patriotism has led them to sacrifice their lives, which are beyond all money payment. But the feeling in favour of the war and the spirit of trust in the Government has, up to the present, overridden serious criticism. The result has been that the Government has often remained inactive when action was needed and has acted unwisely and ignorantly at times; for example, in the case of the Local Government Board circular, stating that the Army Council are prepared to issue allowances through the Soldiers' and Sailors' Families Association or the Local Representation Committees. It has been said that "the whole system is an outrage on democratic principles. The State sweats its servants and then compels them to take the niggardly wages it allows them from a charitable society[1]." This type of action may pass muster during a time of stress, but whether the spirit of the people will accept it after the war is over and there are the dependants of the slain to be maintained and the permanently crippled to be provided for is a different matter. Not merely justice, but the new pride of the people will rebel against it. These are but phases of the larger social problem. There is the question of poverty in all its ramifications. For the moment, economic injustices and social evils have fallen into the back of people's minds, and the new and abnormal causes of destitution are calling forth special measures of assistance. After the war, the ever-present deep-seated poverty will reassert its presence, and in the hearts of many people the question will arise as to whether the community which courageously and whole-heartedly fought the enemy without the gates will turn with equal courage and determination when the time comes to fight the enemy within the gates. The experiences of the war time, the willingness to embark on great projects in face of a national crisis, will not be forgotten, but will inspire in social reformers the hope that the country may also face the internal national peril in a similar spirit. The national—as opposed to the individual—poverty which the war will cause may itself be a force making for good. As Mr. Lloyd George well said, "A great flood of luxury and of sloth which had submerged the land is receding and a new Britain is appearing. We can see for the first time the fundamental things that matter in life, and that have been obscured from our vision by the tropical growth of prosperity."[2] There seems a prospect of an era of social growth and regeneration following the war. In other European countries there may be equally important developments. It may well be that in the event of German defeat the democratic movements of that country will gain a great impetus from the blow given to the Prussian hegemony. In Russia there is an expectation of a new freedom. At the first meeting of the Duma after the opening of hostilities the Labour Party declared its opinion that "through the agony of the battlefield the brotherhood of the Russian people will be strengthened and a common desire created to free the land from its terrible internal troubles."
[Footnote 1: The Nation, Sept. 19, 1914.]
[Footnote 2: Speech at the Queen's Hall, London, Sept. 19, 1914.]