Women and economic evolution: or, The effects of industrial changes upon the status of women

by Theresa Schmid McMahon

Superintendents and principals are agreed that for the same salary a higher grade teacher can be procured among women than among men, and hence, despite their conservatism and prejudice, they feel obliged to follow the policy that best utilizes the means at hand. As a result women have crowded men out of the common schools and have become so well established in this field of work as to have gathered sufficient strength to demand the same remuneration as men for the same kind of work.[66]

Married women are still excluded from many of the common schools in deference to the old idea that married women should remain in the home and follow no remunerative occupation. Even if there existed no good reason for debarring married women from the work of school teaching, the conservatism of the community would deter those in authority from overruling conventional ideas. Not until there is a dearth of teachers, brought about by the extension of the fields of activity open to educated women, will married women receive general recognition in the profession on the same footing with the unmarried.

Although in academic work the instructor is supposed to maintain as high a plane of living as a full professor—especially in the smaller colleges where the faculty is able to maintain its class exclusiveness—the poorly paid minister is not so conscious of the discrepancy between his standard of living and his income. He has, indeed, the same financial problem to face as the college instructor, for he, too, is guided largely by the leisure class standards of the past, but it is smaller and hence less tragic. He is not expected to keep up the same plane of expenditure as the better paid ministers. He tends to imitate the well-to-do among his parishioners, or the intellectual elite of the community rather than his professional brethren.

The stronger the hold the minister has over his congregation the more closely does his remuneration correspond to the standard of living he is expected to maintain. It is true his services are often undervalued when measured by money, and that he belongs to a profession that stands in a measure for sacrifice, but his social prestige in itself makes certain demands upon the congregation that cannot be overlooked. To maintain this prestige by a high plane of living on a meagre salary is one of the problems of the minister and his family. George Eliot presents the difficulty in a small conservative community in the following words: “Given a man with a wife and six children; let him be obliged always to exhibit himself when outside his own door in a suit of black broadcloth, such as will not undermine the foundations of the establishment by a paltry plebeian glossiness or an unseemly whiteness at the edges; in a snowy cravat, which is a serious investment of labour in the hemming, starching, and ironing departments; and in a hat which shows no symptom of taking in the hideous doctrine of expediency, and shaping itself according to circumstances; let him have a parish large enough to create an external necessity for abundant beef and mutton as well as poor enough to require frequent priestly consolation in the shape of shillings and six-pences; and, lastly, let him be compelled, by his own pride and other peoples’, to dress his wife and children with gentility from bonnet-strings. By what process of division can the sum of eighty pounds per annum be made to yield a quotient which will cover that man’s weekly expenses?”

The problem is still essentially the same in a poor parish, for the minister must maintain a standard of consumption above the average of the community.

The problem tends to assume a different aspect in an industrial community where democratic ideas are as evident as financial prosperity. The individual’s concern for his well-being in another world gives way to his concern for the present. He insists upon spiritual guidance, but also expects assistance in bringing about better relations between himself and his fellow men. He often insists upon his minister being a higher intellectual product than is demanded by the more conservative communities. He regards him as a teacher who ought to be versed in the affairs of every-day-life and not one confining himself exclusively to the implications of a future state.

Like the school men, ministers are appreciating the necessity of a greater and broader democracy within their class, but unlike the former, their habits of life are more democratic than their teachings.

Those professions depending upon the direct patronage of the public for support are nowadays distinguished by a tendency to depart from the conservatism characteristic of them in their earlier stages. A physician often completes a college course in science and letters before receiving the three or four years training fitting him for his life work. In mental training he rivals the best college professors and yet his social status savors of the common people. He is inclined to be democratic in his tastes, in his habits of life, and in the selection of his companions. He is one of the people rather than of an exclusive social class.

While officialism and ceremonial rituals characterized the medical profession when its services were rendered almost exclusively to the people of rank and distinction, or when it was closely allied to priestly functions, the nature of the work now demands close association with those upon whom the profession depends for financial support. The necessity of associating with people of all ranks fosters the spirit of democracy, and a common-sense philosophy of life.

The physician maintains a standard of living in harmony with the ideals of the community of which he is a part, and in accordance with his income. He cannot maintain a standard of living which erects a social barrier between himself and his patients, either by its extreme simplicity, or by its conspicuous waste.