<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
<p>As soon as the I.W.W. article was done, Carl had to begin on his
paper to be read before the Economic Association, just after
Christmas, in Philadelphia. That was fun working over. "Come up
here and let me read you this!" And we'd go over that much of the
paper together. Then more reading to Miss Van Doren, more
correctings, finally finishing it just the day before he had to
leave. But that was partly because he had to leave earlier than
expected. The Government had telegraphed him to go on to
Washington, to mediate a threatened longshoremen's strike. Carl
worked harder over the longshoremen than over any other single
labor difficulty, not excepting the eight-hour day in lumber. Here
again I do not feel free to go into details. The matter was
finally, at Carl's suggestion, taken to Washington.</p>
<p>The longshoremen interested Carl for the same reason that the
migratory and the I.W.W. interested him; in fact, there were many
I.W.W. among them. It was the lower stratum of the
labor-world—hard physical labor, irregular work, and, on the
whole, undignified treatment by the men set over them. And they
reacted as Carl expected men in such a position to react. Yet, on
the side of the workers, he felt that in this particular instance
it was a case of men being led by stubborn egotistical union
delegates not really representing the wishes of the rank and file
of union members, their main idea being to compromise on nothing.
On the other hand, be it said that he considered the employers he
had to deal with here the fairest, most open-minded, most anxious
to compromise in the name of justice, of all the groups of
employers he ever had to deal with. The whole affair was
nerve-racking, as is best illustrated by the fact that, while Carl
was able to hold the peace as long as he was on the job, three days
after his death the situation "blew up."</p>
<p>On his way East he stopped off in Spokane, to talk with the
lumbermen east of the mountains. There, at a big meeting, he was
able to put over the eight-hour day. The Wilson Mediation
Commission was in Seattle at the time. Felix Frankfurter telephoned
out his congratulations to me, and said: "We consider it the single
greatest achievement of its kind since the United States entered
the war." The papers were full of it and excitement ran high.
President Wilson was telegraphed to by the Labor Commission, and he
in turn telegraphed back his pleasure. In addition, the East Coast
lumbermen agreed to Carl's scheme of an employment manager for
their industry, and detailed him to find a man for the job while in
the East. My, but I was excited!</p>
<p>Not only that, but they bade fair to let him inaugurate a system
which would come nearer than any chance he could have expected to
try out on a big scale his theories on the proper handling of
labor. The men were to have the sanest recreation devisable for
their needs and interests—out-of-door sports, movies, housing
that would permit of dignified family life, recreation centres,
good and proper food, alteration in the old order of "hire and
fire," and general control over the men. Most employers argued:
"Don't forget that the type of men we have in the lumber camps
won't know how to make use of a single reform you suggest, and
probably won't give a straw for the whole thing." To which Carl
would reply: "Don't forget that your old conditions have drawn the
type of man you have. This won't change men over-night by a long
shot, but it will at once relieve the tension—and see, in
five years, if your type itself has not undergone a change."</p>
<p>From Washington, D.C., he wrote: "This city is one mad mess of
men, desolate, and hunting for folks they should see, overcharged
by hotels, and away from their wives." The red-letter event of
Washington was when he was taken for tea to Justice Brandeis's. "We
talked I.W.W., unemployment, etc., and he was oh, so grand!" A few
days later, two days before Christmas, Mrs. Brandeis telephoned and
asked him for Christmas dinner! That was a great event in the
Parker annals—Justice Brandeis having been a hero among us
for some years. Carl wrote: "He is all he is supposed to be and
more." He in turn wrote me after Carl's death: "Our country shares
with you the great loss. Your husband was among the very few
Americans who possessed the character, knowledge, and insight which
are indispensable in dealing effectively with our labor-problem.
Appreciation of his value was coming rapidly, and events were
enforcing his teachings. His journey to the East brought
inspiration to many; and I seek comfort in the thought that, among
the students at the University, there will be some at least who are
eager to carry forward his work."</p>
<p>There were sessions with Gompers, Meyer Bloomfield, Secretary
Baker, Secretary Daniels, the Shipping Board, and many others.</p>
<p>Then, at Philadelphia, came the most telling single event of our
economic lives—Carl's paper before the Economic Association
on "Motives in Economic Life." At the risk of repeating to some
extent the ideas quoted from previous papers, I shall record here a
few statements from this one, as it gives the last views he held on
his field of work.</p>
<p>"Our conventional economics to-day analyzes no phase of
industrialism or the wage-relationship, or citizenship in pecuniary
society, in a manner to offer a key to such distressing and complex
problems as this. Human nature riots to-day through our economic
structure, with ridicule and destruction; and we economists look on
helpless and aghast. The menace of the war does not seem potent to
quiet revolt or still class cries. The anxiety and apprehension of
the economist should not be produced by this cracking of his
economic system, but by the poverty of the criticism of
industrialism which his science offers. Why are economists mute in
the presence of a most obvious crisis in our industrial society?
Why have our criticisms of industrialism no sturdy warnings about
this unhappy evolution? Why does an agitated officialdom search
to-day in vain among our writings, for scientific advice touching
labor-inefficiency or industrial disloyalty, for prophecies and
plans about the rise in our industrialism of economic classes
unharmonious and hostile?</p>
<p>"The fair answer seems this: We economists speculate little on
human motives. We are not curious about the great basis of fact
which dynamic and behavioristic psychology has gathered to
illustrate the instinct stimulus to human activity. Most of us are
not interested to think of what a psychologically full or
satisfying life is. We are not curious to know that a great school
of behavior analysis called the Freudian has been built around the
analysis of the energy outbursts brought by society's balking of
the native human instincts. Our economic literature shows that we
are but rarely curious to know whether industrialism is suited to
man's inherited nature, or what man in turn will do to our rules of
economic conduct in case these rules are repressive. The motives to
economic activity which have done the major service in orthodox
economic texts and teachings have been either the vague
middle-class virtues of thrift, justice, and solvency, or the
equally vague moral sentiments of 'striving for the welfare of
others,' 'desire for the larger self,' 'desire to equip one's self
well,' or, lastly, the labor-saving deduction that man is
stimulated in all things economic by his desire to satisfy his
wants with the smallest possible effort. All this gentle parody in
motive theorizing continued contemporaneously with the output of
the rich literature of social and behavioristic psychology which
was almost entirely addressed to this very problem of human motives
in modern economic society. Noteworthy exceptions are the
remarkable series of books by Veblen, the articles and criticisms
of Mitchell and Patten, and the most significant small book by
Taussig, entitled 'Inventors and Money-makers.' It is this
complementary field of psychology to which the economists must
turn, as these writers have turned, for a vitalization of their
basic hypotheses. There awaits them a bewildering array of studies
of the motives, emotions, and folkways of our pecuniary
civilization. Generalizations and experiment statistics abound,
ready-made for any structure of economic criticism. The human
motives are isolated, described, compared. Business confidence, the
release of work-energy, advertising appeal, market vagaries, the
basis of value computations, decay of workmanship, the labor
unrest, decline in the thrift habit, are the subjects treated.</p>
<p>"All human activity is untiringly actuated by the demand for
realization of the instinct wants. If an artificially limited field
of human endeavor be called economic life, all its so-called
motives hark directly back to the human instincts for their origin.
<i>There are, in truth, no economic motives as such.</i> The
motives of economic life are the same as those of the life of art,
of vanity and ostentation, of war and crime, of sex. Economic life
is merely the life in which instinct gratification is alleged to
take on a rational pecuniary habit form. Man is not less a father,
with a father's parental instinct, just because he passes down the
street from his home to his office. His business raid into his
rival's market has the same naïve charm that tickled the heart
of his remote ancestor when in the night he rushed the herds of a
near-by clan. A manufacturer tries to tell a conventional world
that he resists the closed shop because it is un-American, it loses
him money, or it is inefficient. A few years ago he was more
honest, when he said he would run his business as he wished and
would allow no man to tell him what to do. His instinct of
leadership, reinforced powerfully by his innate instinctive
revulsion to the confinement of the closed shop, gave the true
stimulus. His opposition is psychological, not ethical."</p>
<p>He then goes on to catalogue and explain the following instincts
which he considered of basic importance in any study of economics:
(1) gregariousness; (2) parental bent, motherly behavior,
kindliness; (3) curiosity, manipulation, workmanship; (4)
acquisition, collecting, ownership; (5) fear and flight; (6) mental
activity, thought; (7) the housing or settling instinct; (8)
migration, homing; (9) hunting ("Historic revivals of hunting urge
make an interesting recital of religious inquisitions,
witch-burnings, college hazings, persecution of suffragettes, of
the I.W.W., of the Japanese, or of pacifists. All this goes on
often under naïve rationalization about justice and
patriotism, but it is pure and innate lust to run something down
and hurt it"); (10) anger, pugnacity; (11) revolt at confinement,
at being limited in liberty of action and choice; (12) revulsion;
(13) leadership and mastery; (14) subordination, submission; (15)
display, vanity, ostentation; (166) sex.</p>
<p>After quoting from Professor Cannon, and discussing the
contributions that his studies have made to the subject of man's
reaction to his immediate environment, he continues:—</p>
<p>"The conclusion seems both scientific and logical, that behavior
in anger, fear, pain, and hunger is a basically different behavior
from behavior under repose and economic security. The emotions
generated under the conditions of existence-peril seem to make the
emotions and motives generative in quiet and peace pale and
unequal. It seems impossible to avoid the conclusion that the most
vital part of man's inheritance is one which destines him to
continue for some myriads of years ever a fighting animal when
certain conditions exist in his environment. Though, through
education, man be habituated in social and intelligent behavior or,
through license, in sexual debauchery, still, at those times when
his life or liberty is threatened, his instinct-emotional nature
will inhibit either social thought or sex ideas, and present him as
merely an irrational fighting animal. . . .</p>
<p>"The instincts and their emotions, coupled with the obedient
body, lay down in scientific and exact description the motives
which must and will determine human conduct. If a physical
environment set itself against the expression of these instinct
motives, the human organism is fully and efficiently prepared for a
tenacious and destructive revolt against this environment; and if
the antagonism persist, the organism is ready to destroy itself and
disappear as a species if it fail of a psychical mutation which
would make the perverted order endurable."</p>
<p>And in conclusion, he states:—</p>
<p>"The dynamic psychology of to-day describes the present
civilization as a repressive environment. For a great number of its
inhabitants a sufficient self-expression is denied. There is, for
those who care to see, a deep and growing unrest and pessimism.
With the increase in knowledge is coming a new realization of the
irrational direction of economic evolution. The economists,
however, view economic inequality and life-degradation as objects
in truth outside the science. Our value-concept is a
price-mechanism hiding behind a phrase. If we are to play a part in
the social readjustment immediately ahead, we must put human nature
and human motives into our basic hypotheses. Our value-concept must
be the yardstick to measure just how fully things and institutions
contribute to a full psychological life. We must know more of the
meaning of progress. The domination of society by one economic
class has for its chief evil the thwarting of the instinct life of
the subordinate class and the perversion of the upper class. The
extent and characteristics of this evil are to be estimated only
when we know the innate potentialities and inherited propensities
of man; and the ordering of this knowledge and its application to
the changeable economic structure is the task before the trained
economist to-day."</p>
<p>A little later I saw one of the big men who was at that Economic
Association meeting, and he said: "I don't see why Parker isn't
spoiled. He was the most talked-about man at the Convention." Six
publishing houses wrote, after that paper, to see if he could
enlarge it into a book. Somehow it did seem as if now more than
ever the world was ours. We looked ahead into the future, and
wondered if it could seem as good to any one as it did to us. It
was almost <i>too</i> good—we were dazed a bit by it. It is
one of the things I just cannot let myself ever think of—that
future and the plans we had. Anything I can ever do now would still
leave life so utterly dull by comparison.</p>
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