Increasing Efficiency In Business
by
Walter Dill Scott

_because it coincides with a turning point in his
life_.

To facilitate the plan, the manager's file
of employment cards is arranged, not by
initials or departments, but by birthdays.
Each workman's name falls under his eye a
few days in advance, long enough to secure
a report from his foreman, if knowledge is
lacking of his progress.

As I entered this manager's office, I met a
young man coming out. He had been in the
company's employ only a few months and his
relations with the organization had not yet
been established. Asked for a report, his
foreman gave him a good record and recommended
a small advance. Imagine the surprise,
the instant access of pride and loyalty,
the impulse towards greater effort and efficiency,
when the young man was called into the
manager's office on his birthday, congratulated
on his record, and informed that he would start
his new year with an advance in wages.
Double the advance, if allowed in the usual
way, would not have so impressed and satisfied

him. The increased wage made its appeal direct
to the instinct for social recognition, and
hence was very effective.

Such a method does not admit of general
application. Practiced in cold blood, it might
even be harmful. But in this case, it struck
me not as an act of selfish cleverness, but as
the expression of a real sympathy and interest
which the manager felt for his men. The
cleverness lay in the recognition that no man is
ever so susceptible to counsel, to appreciation,
or to rebuke as on his birthday, when the social
self is especially alert.

In other organizations, the effort to extend
this factor of human sympathy to each worker
and to see that full justice is rendered to him
takes the form of a department of promotion
and discharge. The head is the direct representative
of the ``front office'' and is independent
of superintendents and foremen. No
man can be ``paid off'' until the facts have been
submitted to the consideration of this department.
Here also the man may present his case
to an unprejudiced and sympathetic arbiter.

_In actual practice the man ``paid off'' is
sometimes retained and the foreman, on the evidence
of prejudice, bad temper, or other incompetency,
is discharged. In consequence every
workman knows that his place does not depend
upon the whim of his immediate superior, but
that faithful service will certainly be recognized_.

Furthermore, this department assumes the
task of shifting men from one department to
another and thus minimizing the misfits which
lower the efficiency of the whole organization.
Records of each man's performance are kept,
and promotions and discharge are more nearly
in accord with facts than would be possible in
a large house without some such agency. In
too many big establishments the individual
feels that he does not count in the crowd and
that he is helpless to do anything to advance
himself or to protect himself against an antagonistic
foreman. In large measure, such a department
reduces this feeling and bridges the
chasm between the men and the firm.

In its effect on the attitude and efficiency
of employees, the method of fixing and ad-

justing wages is no less important than the
wages themselves. The steady trend of the
labor market has been upward and always upward;
it is one of the notable achievements of
trade and industry that this constant appreciation
in the price of man power has been
neutralized by increase in the efficiency of its
application. This increase in earning capacity
has been secured not alone by the development
of automatic machinery, but by the division
of labor, the subdivision of processes, and the
education of workers to accept the new methods,
and acquire expert skill in some specialty.

Hardly a generation has passed since one
man, or perhaps two working together, built
farm wagons, steam engines, and a thousand
other articles entire. Now a hundred mechanics
or machine tenders may have contributed
to either wagon or engine before
it reaches the shipping department. Three
fourths of these workers are paid piece rates.
The substitution of these piece rates for day
wages, the striking of a satisfactory balance
between production and compensation, and

the endless changes in the scale as new parts
or faster or simpler processes are invented--
have all been operations in which the tact and
man-handling skill of executives have played a
significant part.

In the larger organization this knowledge or
skill is often supplied by a manager who has
``come up through the ranks'' and has not
forgotten his journeyman's dexterity on the
way or neglected to keep in touch with improved
methods.

_Frequently the advantage of a small industry
or trading venture over its larger rivals depends
on the owner's mastery of all the processes or
conditions involved and his ability to deal with
his employees on a personal plane in fixing
wages or in establishing the standard day's work_.

In a stove factory where four fifths of the
processes are paid by piece rates, it was necessary,
not long ago, to fix the remuneration for
the assembling of a new type of range. Most
of the operations were standard; the workmen
and the management differed, however,
on what should be paid for the setting and fas-

tening of a back piece with seventeen bolts.
The men asked fifteen cents a range. When refused,
they named twelve cents as an ultimatum.
The company was willing neither to pay
such a price nor to antagonize the workmen.

The dispute was settled by a demonstration.
The superintendent was himself a graduate
from the bench and had been an expert workman.
The company's contract with the assemblers'
union set $4.50 a day as the maximum
wage. To prove his contention that even
twelve cents was too great a price, he set the
back pieces on ten ranges himself, under the
eyes of a committee, and proved that at six
cents a range he could easily earn the maximum
day wage. The price agreed upon was
eight cents, little more than half the original
demand. Without the demonstration the
men would have accepted twelve cents reluctantly.

In the course of the interviews with employers,
it became evident that there was
agreement on one point--to educate the
worker to realize that the house's policy in

handling its men gave added value to the
sums paid out in wages.

_The shiftless or unskilled man works mainly
for the next pay envelope, with little or no regard
for the continuity of employment, the possibility
of promotion, of pension, of sick or accident
benefits, of working conditions, or the like_.

The skilled worker, on the contrary, and the
more desirable class of laborers, nearly always
rate their wages above or below par, according
to the presence or the absence of these contingent
benefits or emoluments.

To the average man with a family, the
``steady job'' at fair wages is the first
consideration. It appeals more strongly to him
than intermittent employment at a much
higher rate; while the younger, restless, and
less dependable man, both skilled and unskilled,
gravitates to the shop where he can command
a premium for a little while. Just as managers
are always looking for the steady worker,
nearly all agree in assuring their employees
that faithful and efficient service will be rewarded
with continuous employment.

To carry out this policy is sometimes difficult
in businesses where demand is seasonal
and where a large part of the product must
be made to order. Nevertheless, the manager
who adjusts his production program to cover
the entire year has the choice of the best
workers even when other factories offer higher
rates. Likewise, the employer who sacrifices
his profit in bad years to ``take care of his
men'' and hold his organization together recovers
his losses when the revival comes.

So deeply rooted is this desire for a ``steady
job'' and so generally recognized as an essential
of the labor problem that several large industries
have developed ``side lines'' to which
they can turn their organization during their
slack seasons; while others in periods of depression
pile up huge stocks of standard products,
making heavy investments of capital,
for the primary purpose of keeping their men
employed.

How such a policy reacts on the wage question,
and hence on the efficiency of employees,
is shown by an instance which lately fell under

my notice. By a long and persistent campaign
of education and demonstration, a small ``quality''
house forced a rival ten times as large
to adopt the careful processes on which this
quality depended. Adopting the small man's
methods, the competitor, instead of training its
own operatives to the new standards, sought
to hire the other man's skilled workers. The
premium offered was a thirty per cent advance.
It was refused, however. The tempted mechanics,
analyzing the rival's proposal, hit on
the disloyalty contemplated towards its own
employees. They were to be discharged or
transferred to other departments to make
room for the new men.

Measuring this cold-blooded policy against
the consideration, the unfailing effort of their
old employer to ``take care of them'' in bad
seasons, the workers decided to stick to the
smaller company and refuse the advance.

_Next to continuous employment, among methods
of increasing the value of wages, is the policy
of making promotions from the ranks_.

This practice seems to be commonly ac-

cepted as fruitful, although many firms believe
it impossible of application in filling some
of the higher as well as some of the more technical
positions. Where the system is applicable,
it acts as a powerful stimulus to the
men by adding to their present wages the
promise or possibility of better positions and
higher pay in the future. It gives assurance of
promotion for faithful service much greater
than in houses which fill the upper positions
from outside sources on the assumption that
they thus get ``new blood'' into the business.
The men secured from outside may be more
skilled or more productive of immediate results
than any available in the house organization.
By their importation, however, the
wages of all the men aspiring to the position
have been cheapened. Nor does the evil stop
there.

_The assumption is naturally drawn that the
same practice is likely to be followed in filling
other vacancies. The stimulus to initiative and
activity is thus weakened for men in every grade
and their wages are shrunk below par_.

The importance which some successful employers
attach to this principle of promotion
from the ranks is well illustrated by an incident
which recently occurred in a large manufacturing
establishment organized on a one-man
basis. During the president's absence it was
decided to open up a new zone of trade for a
new product. No one in the organization
knew the product and the field, so a new man
was put in charge. The work progressed
surprisingly well; the enterprise was in every
way successful.

When the real head returned, he called his
managers together and told them that the
new man must be removed and the most deserving
man in the regular organization appointed
in his place. He was met with the protest
that no employee was capable of taking up the
work and reminded that the new man had
already achieved great success. The president
answered that he was willing to lose money
in the department for the first year rather than
cheapen and disorganize the service by taking
away the certainty of promotion and by re-

moving the incentive to study and self-development
which had increased the efficiency of
every ambitious employee.

Innumerable examples of the same principle
in promotions could be gleaned from the
records of some of the oldest and most progressive
houses in the country. In one establishment
visited, the quality of whose wares
is strenuously guarded, it was discovered that
the chemist and metallurgist in charge of the
factory laboratory had been lifted out of one
of the departments and supplied with the
money to take a specialized course in physics,
chemistry, and metallurgy. The advertising
manager, the factory engineer, and two or three
of the foremen had been given leaves of absence
to study and fit themselves for the positions
to which their talents and inclinations
drew them. Even among the workmen there
was a fixed basis for advancement towards the
better jobs and the higher rates, dependent on
satisfactory service and output.

To these major considerations in increasing
the worth of wages, those companies which

have given the longest attention to the problem
add many other inducements.

_An efficient and contented employee has a
positive money value to any employer. To hold
him and keep him efficient, his personal comfort
and needs should be considered in every way
not detrimental to the company's interests_.

As nearly as possible, the ideal in factory
location and construction is approached. Some
industries have removed bodily to country
towns, less for the sake of a cheap site than
for the purpose of establishing themselves
where housing conditions for workers were
good, rents low, the cost of living cheaper, and
other factors tending to _*add value_ to every dollar
paid in wages were present. Direct appeal
was made to the intelligence of employees,
whose health is part of their capital, by making
and keeping working conditions as healthful
and sanitary, as little taxing on eyesight and
bodily vigor as circumstances and judicious
investment of capital allowed. Scores of
towns have been built outright, to benefit
employees.

In line with this policy are the systems of
benefit insurance for accident and sickness
maintained and partly supported by many
companies; the pension systems which have
been adopted within the last few years by
some of the greatest and most progressive
companies in America; the free medical service,
both in case of factory accidents and
sickness at home, which other firms provide
for employees; and various other activities
contributing to the welfare of workers, both
during working hours and afterwards.

Employers are coming more and more to
see that this is the case and to devote both
thought and money to the elimination of conditions
which cut wages below par.

_Whatever reduces hazard, discomfort, loss of
time, uncertainty, or the cost of living for workers
adds value to their wages and is a means of
influencing their attitude towards the company_.

Some employers are continually exercised
to keep the wages of their men from falling
below par. Others are equally solicitous that
their men may regard their wages as above

par. This classification is a real one and was
made plain by some of the interviews referred
to above. Thus in answer to the question,
``What special method do you employ to make
men satisfied or pleased with their wages?''
one employer immediately put his own interpretation
on the question. To him it meant,
``What method do you employ to keep your
men from being _*dissatisfied_ with their wages?''

His answer was: ``By paying them somewhere
near what they ask or expect. If we
don't,'' he added, ``they go out on strike and
we have to compromise.''

The majority of successful employers have
advanced beyond this negative, defensive
attitude and take a positive and aggressive
position in dealing with the problem.

_Instead of assuming their work accomplished
when the men are not dissatisfied or rebellious,
they do not rest until every dollar paid out in
wages is above par in its influence upon efficiency_.

Thus in innumerable ways the progressive
employer increases the value of all wages he

pays by making them appeal to the reason
and to the instincts of workers in a way un-
dreamed of by less enlightened men. The
purpose of wages is to produce a certain
psychological effect and to promote the most
favorable attitude on the part of the worker.
The methods of increasing the purchasing power
of money thus spent is one of the most interesting
and yet complex problems which the
business man has to face.

This chapter shows the psychological ground
for the following statements:--

Employees differ in their response to piecework
rates and to salaries. Some respond
more satisfactorily to one and some to the
other.

When the development of men for better
positions is of prime importance, the piecework
system is not to be adopted. If the
quantity of work per unit of wage is of greatest
importance, then some form of wage other
than fixed salary should be used.

An employee should not be dismissed as
hopelessly lazy till he has shown this attitude

in more than one department or has failed to
respond to different forms of stimulation.

Changes in wages may often be placed under
the authority of some person or committee
other than the immediate superiors of the
employees involved. This authority may be
vested in the direct representatives of the
executives or in such a committee as would
be formed by representatives of the executives
and also employees from the different departments
of the establishment.

_Payment of wages, so far as possible, should
be made to appeal to the instincts for social distinction
and for acquisition as well as to the instinct
for self-preservation_.

Wages should never be reduced without a
tactful and sincere attempt to convince the
men of the necessity of such an act.

Increase in wages may well be made a personal
matter. Some firms, however, are most
successful with a mechanical wage system in
which employees know exactly the conditions
necessary for an increase in wages.

All work should be thoroughly supervised

and inspected so that employees know that
good service will be recognized and rewarded.

The policy of filling all positions from the
ranks seems growing in favor, since it gives
certain hope for advancement and hence
greater satisfaction with the present wage.

The wage may well include a tacit insurance
for the future. Employees should be assured
that so long as they remain faithful to the
firm, their work and pay will continue, and
that in accident or old age they will be provided
for. Accepted thus, the wage secures
increased service.



CHAPTER VII

PLEASURE

AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY

TO prevent the usual ``summer slump''
in output, the manager of a factory
employing a hundred or more sewing
girls on piecework tried various methods.
He began with closer individual supervision
by the forewomen. He set up a bulletin
board and posted daily the names of the five
highest operators. He added small cash prizes
weekly. He adopted a modified bonus system
framed so as not to interfere with the
established average of winter tasks. With
each his success was only partial. Ten or a
dozen of the more energetic girls responded to
the stimulus; on the majority the effect was
slight.

The problem was serious. June, July, and
August comprised the season when his prod-

ucts were at a premium, when future orders
were frequently lost because partial deliveries
could not be made immediately. Studying
the question, he noted specifically, what he
already knew, that the output dropped as the
temperature rose. A cool day sandwiched
into a week of hot weather frequently equaled
the best winter records. This fact, coupled
with the observation that the spirit of his
working force seemed to change with the
change of temperature from warm to cold,
helped him to arrive at the right solution.

He made the discovery sitting in the draught
of an electric fan. He looked up, made a
mental note; and next morning he moved his
office ``comforter'' out to the head of one file of
machines. The draught tangled the goods
under the seamstresses' hands at times, but
the half dozen girls within range showed a
decided increase in production over the day
before and over operators at other tables.

He had found his remedy for the summer
slump. Within a week he had installed a
system of large overhead fans and an exhaust

blower and saw his production figures mount
to the winter's best average. From careless,
indifferent workers, on edge at trifles and difficult
to hold, his force developed steadiness
and efficiency. Not only was the output
increased twenty per cent over previous
summers, but the proportion of spoiled work
was considerably reduced.

One of the women who had been a subject
of the first day's experiment struck close to
the reason of her greater efficiency in her
off-hand answer to his inquiry.

``It was a pleasure to work to-day. It was
so comfortable after yesterday you just forgot
the other girls, forgot you wanted to rest,
forgot everything but the seams you were
running and the fact that it was a big day.
I'm not near so tired as usual either.''

_A successful day is likely to be a restful one,
an unsuccessful day an exhausting one. The
man who is greatly interested in his work and
who finds delight in overcoming the difficulties
of his calling is not likely to become so tired as
the man for whom the work is a burden_.

The experience related summarizes the
experience of every worker who has studied,
either on his own initiative or at some other's
instance, the effect upon output secured by
the removal of distressing or displeasing conditions
from the workroom.

The man who has been engaged in intellectual
or manual labor finds himself more or less
exhausted when the day's work is done. The
degree of exhaustion varies greatly from day
to day and is not in direct proportion to the
amount of energy expended or the results
attained. A comparatively busy day may
leave him feeling fresh, while at the end of a
day much less occupied he may be utterly
``dragged out'' and weary.

Some men habitually find themselves fatigued,
while others ordinarily end the day
with a feeling of vigor. These contrary
effects are not necessarily due primarily
to disparity in the amount of energy spent
or to unequal stores of energy available.
The discrepancy in many instances is due to
diverse attitudes toward the work or varying

degrees of success which has attended the
work.

Pleasure secured in and from work is the
best preventive and balm for tired muscles
and jaded brains. Dislike or discomfort, on
the other hand, adds to toil by sapping the
strength of the worker.

Victory in intercollegiate athletic events
depends on will power and physical endurance.
This is particularly apparent in football.
Frequently it is not the team with the
greater muscular development or speed of
foot that wins the victory, but the one with the
more grit and perseverance. At the conclusion
of a game players are often unable to walk from
the field and need to be carried. Occasionally
the winning team has actually worked the
harder and received the more serious injuries.
Regardless of this fact, it is usually
true that the victorious team leaves the
field less jaded than the conquered team.
Furthermore the winners will report next day
refreshed and ready for further training,
while the losers may require several days to

overcome the shock and exhaustion of their
defeat.

Recently I had a very hard contest at tennis.
Some hours after the game I was still too tired
to do effective work. I wondered why, until
I remembered that I had been thoroughly
beaten, and that, too, by an opponent whom I
felt I outclassed. I had been in the habit of
playing even harder contests and ordinarily
with no discomfort--especially when successful
in winning the match.

What I have found so apparent in physical
exertion is equally true in intellectual labor.
Writing or research work which progresses
satisfactorily leaves me relatively fresh;
unsuccessful efforts bring their aftermath of
weariness.

_Intellectual work which is pleasant is stimulating
and does not fag one, while intellectual
work which is uninteresting or displeasing is
depressing and exhausting_.

We can readily trace the source of energy
in mechanical devices. The hands of a clock
continue in their course because of the energy

locked up in a compressed spring or elevated
weight. The gun projects the bullet because
of the sudden chemical union of carbon with
saltpeter and sulphur. The steam engine
takes its energy from the steam secured by
combustion of coal or other fuel.

The work of the human organism is usually
classified as muscular or intellectual. In
either the expenditure of energy is as dependent
upon known causes as is the activity
of the mechanical devices mentioned
above.

Every muscular activity is dependent upon
muscular cells ready for combustion; without
such combustion no muscular work is
performed.

Every intellectual process is likewise dependent
upon brain cells ready for combustion,
and no intellectual work can be performed
without combustion of these brain cells.

To secure continued activity the clock must
be rewound, the gun must be recharged, more
coal must be supplied to the engine. In like
manner the continuation of muscular and in-

tellectual activity depends upon the restoration
of muscle and brain cells. The necessity
for renewal is greater or less according to the
amount stored in reserve and the rapidity of
consumption. A maximum head of steam
may keep the engine running for a long time
unless the load is too heavy or the speed too
great. Though under certain conditions the
amount of muscle and brain energy stored in
reserve is large, continuous or rapid activity of
necessity expends the reserve and leads to
exhaustion.

It is a simple process to rewind the clock,
to reload the gun, and to replenish the fuel.
To restore muscular and nerve cells is a very
delicate process. So wonderful is the human
organism, however, that the process is carried
on perfectly without our consciousness or
volition except under abnormal conditions.

Food and air are the first essentials of this
restoration. Indirectly the perfect working of
all the bodily organs contribute to the process
--especially deepened breathing, heightened
pulse, and increase of bodily volume due

to the expansion of the blood vessels running
just beneath the skin.

_Here pleasure enters. Its effect on the expenditure
of energy is to make muscle and brain
cells more available for consumption, and particularly
to hasten the process of restoration or
recuperation_.

The deepened breathing supplies more air
for the oxidation of body wastes. The heightened
pulse carries nourishment more rapidly
to the depleted tissues and relieves the tissues
more rapidly from the poisonous wastes
produced by work. The body, the machine,
runs more smoothly, and fewer stops for repairs
are made necessary.

In addition to these specific functions,
pleasure hastens all the bodily processes which
are of advantage to the organism. The hastening
may be so great that recuperation keeps
pace with the consumption consequent on
efficient labor, with the result that there is
little or no exhaustion. This is in physiological
terms the reason why a person can do more
when he ``enjoys'' his work or play, and can

continue his efforts for a longer period without
fatigue. The man who enjoys his work requires
less time for recreation and exercise, for
his enjoyment recharges the storage battery of
energy.

Not only can I endure more and achieve
more when I take pleasure in the task, but I
can also secure better results from others by
providing for their interest and for their pleasure
in what they are doing. This is a fact
which wise merchants and employers have
felt intuitively, but in most instances the
principle has not been consciously formulated.
High-grade stores do much to add to the pleasure
of their customers. Every resource of art
and architecture is employed to make store
rooms appeal to the sthetic sense and the
appreciation of customers. Clerks are instructed
to be obliging and courteous. Employees
are not allowed to dress in a style
likely to offend a customer and they are
schooled in manners and in speech. Space
is devoted to the convenience and comfort
of customers.

_The most successful establishments in the
world are the ones which do most to please their
patrons--not by cutting prices or simply by
supplying better goods, but by expediting and
making more pleasant the purchase of goods_.

They have discovered that customers inducted
into a beautiful shop and surrounded
by tactful obliging clerks are more willing to
buy and are more likely to be satisfied with
what they purchase. By adding to their patrons'
comfort and pleasure they are able to
accomplish more than by any other selling
argument. In like manner, restaurants and
hotels have learned that splendid rooms, flowers,
spotless linen, well-dressed and courteous
waiters, good furniture, and so on, all attract
customers and induce them to order more
generously.

Lawyers find in trying cases that it is quite
essential to regard the mood of clients, juries,
and judges. The pleased man is not suspicious;
he does not hesitate in coming to a conclusion,
and he is not likely to impute evil
motives to the actions of others. As has been

well said by Dickens, when speaking from the
viewpoint of the defendant, ``A good, contented,
well-breakfasted juryman is a capital
thing to get hold of. Discontented or hungry
jurymen always find for the plaintiff.''

The salesman with a pleasing personality
is able to sell more goods than others less
happily endowed. Some salesmen try to supplement
this power--or supply the lack of a
pleasing personality--by ``jollying'' the possible
customer in various ways. Dinners,
theaters, cigars, and various other devices
are thus used, and in many instances with success.

Modern business employs such methods less
and less, chiefly because the customer recognizes
the purpose of the attempt, and either
refuses to accept the ``hospitality'' or is on
his guard to resist the effect. A pleasing
personality, however, inspires confidence, tends
to put the customer in a good humor and optimistic
mood, and results in sales.

A cold, formal manner, ill temper, or a
pessimistic outlook, on the contrary, will

handicap the sale of the best merchandise
made.

A man is said to be suggestible when he
comes to conclusions or acts without due
deliberation. Suggestion, then, is nothing but
the mental condition which causes us to believe
and respond without the normal amount
of weighing of evidence. While in a suggestible
condition we are credulous, responsive,
and impulsive. Such a mental condition is
favored and induced by pleasure. Discomfort
or dissatisfaction with the conditions or
surroundings prompts the opposing attitude;
we become suspicious and slow to act or believe.
While in a suggestible condition, we
place our orders freely and promptly. The
merchant who can please his customers and
bring them to a suggestible mood before he
displays his wares, therefore, has done much to
secure generous sales.

Advantageous results from suggestion are
not limited to the relationship between buyer
and seller.

_The pleased and satisfied employee is open_

_to the suggestions of foreman and manager and
responds with an enthusiasm impossible of
generation in one dissatisfied from any cause_.

Methods of insuring this pleasure in work
for employees are yet in the formative stage.
Until recently the want of such methods, indeed,
was not felt. The slave driver with the
most profane vocabulary and the greatest
recklessness in the use of fist and foot was
supposed to be the most effective type of boss.
The task system set an irreducible minimum
for the day's work; the employer exacted the
task and assumed that no better way of handling
men could be devised. Piecework rates
provided a better and more reasonable basis
for securing something like a maximum day's
work; bonus and premium systems have carried
the incentive of the wage in increasing efficiency
to the last point short of coperative
organization. But all of these systems fall
short in assuming that men are machines;
that their powers and capacities are fixed quantities;
that the efficiency of a well-disposed and
industrious employee ought to be proof against

varying conditions or environment; that a
man can achieve the desired standard, if only
he has the will to achieve it.

_Discipline has become less brutal if not less
strict. The laborer works, not alone to avoid
poverty and hunger, but to secure the means of
pleasure_.

It is not so long since harsh discipline was
common both in homes and in business. The
boy worked hard because he was afraid not to.
The man labored because poverty threatened
him if idle. We were in what might be called
a ``pain economy''; we worked to escape pain.
To-day this has largely been changed.

Employers, too, are experimenting boldly
with the idea of creating pleasure in work.
The first step has been taken in the very
general elimination of the old wasteful, neglectful
elements of factory and office environment.
Comfort, the first neutral element
of pleasure, is provided for employees just as
solid foundations are provided for the factory
buildings. There is light, heat, and ventilation
where a generation ago there were tiny windows,

shadows, lonely stoves, and foul air. Cleanliness
is provided and preserved; not a few of
the larger industries employ a regular corps of
janitors to keep floors, walls, and windows clean.
The walls are tinted; the lights are arranged
so as to provide the right illumination without
straining the workers' eyes. The departments
are symmetrically arranged; the aisles are
wide; the working space is ample; there is
no fear to haunt machine tenders that a mis-
step or a moment of forgetfulness will entangle
them in a neighboring machine. The factory
buildings themselves, without being pretentious,
have pleasing, simple lines and unobtrusive
ornamentation. They look like, and
are, when the human equation does not interfere,
_*pleasant_ places to work in.

This is the typical modern factory; thousands
can be found in America. On this
foundation of good working conditions and
pleasant environment, many companies have
built more or less elaborate systems of welfare
work, whose effectiveness in creating
pleasure and efficiency seem to depend on the

purpose and spirit of the men behind them.
These systems frequently begin with beautification
of the factory premises and workrooms
--window boxes, factory lawns, ivied walls,
trees, and shrubs--and advance by various
stages to lunch rooms for workers, factory
libraries, rest rooms for women workers, factory
nurses and physicians, and sometimes the
development of a social life among employees
through picnics, lectures, dances, night schools,
and like activities. The methods employed
are too diverse and too recent to permit an accurate
estimate of their work or a true analysis
of the elements of their success. It is incumbent
on the employer to find or work out for
himself the method best suited to his individual
needs.

_To understand how pleasure heightens the
suggestibility of the individual it is but necessary
to consider the well-known effects which pleasure
has on the various bodily and mental processes_.

The action of pleasure and displeasure upon
the muscles of the body is most apparent.
With displeasure the muscles of the forehead

contract; folds and wrinkles appear. The
corners of the mouth are drawn down; the
head bowed; the shoulders stoop and draw
together over the breast; the chest is contracted;
the fingers of the hand close, and there
is also a tendency to bend the arms so as to
protect the fore part of the body. In displeasure
the body is thus seen to contract and
to put itself on the defensive. It closes itself
to outside influences and attempts to ``withdraw
within its shell.''

With pleasure the forehead is smoothed
out; the corners of the mouth are lifted; the
head is held erect; the shoulders are thrown
back; the chest is expanded; the fingers of
the hand are opened, and the arm is ready to
go out to grasp any object. The whole body
is thrown into a receptive attitude. It is prepared
to be affected by outside stimulations
and is ready to profit by them.

That these characteristic bodily attitudes
of pleasure and displeasure have an effect
on the mind is evident. Bodily and mental attitudes
have developed together in the history

of the race. The conditions which cause a
receptive attitude of body cause also a suggestible
state of mind. The conditions which
call for bodily protection also demand a suspicious
and non-responsive attitude of mind.
The bodily and the mental attitudes have become
so intimately associated that the presence
of one assures the presence of the other.

_Pleasure and a particular attitude of body are
indissolubly united, and when these two are
present, a suggestible condition of mind seems of
necessity to follow_.

Thus by the subtle working of pleasant
impressions the customer is disarmed of his
suspicion and made ready to respond to the
suggestions of the merchant.

The effect of the suggestible attitude of the
body, as produced by pleasure, is increased
by certain other effects which pleasure produces
on the body.

Muscular strength is frequently measured
by finding the maximum grip on a recording
instrument. The amount of the grip varies
from time to time and is affected by various

conditions. One of the phenomena which has
been thoroughly investigated is the effect of
pleasure and of pain on the intensity of the
grip. It is well established that pleasure
increases the grip or the available amount of
energy. Displeasure reduces the strength.

The total volume of the body would seem
to be constant for any particular short interval
of time. Such, however, is not the case.

_With pleasure the lungs are filled with air
from deepened breathing; the volume of the
limbs is increased by the increased flow of blood.
Pleasure thus actually makes us larger and displeasure
smaller_.

This increase in muscular strength and bodily
volume due to pleasure has a very decided
effect upon the mind. The increase of muscular
strength gives us a feeling of power and
assurance, the increase in volume gives us a
feeling of expansion and importance. These
conditions produced by increase of muscular
strength and bodily volume contribute to the
general suggestible condition described above.

If I am in a suggestible condition and if I

also feel an unusual degree of assurance in my
own powers and importance, I shall have such
confidence in the wisdom of my intended acts
that there will seem to be no ground for delay.
Furthermore the increased action of the heart,
due to the effect of pleasure, gives me a feeling
of buoyancy and invigoration which adds appreciably
to the tendency to action.

We thus see why pleasure renders us more
suggestible and hence makes us more apt to
purchase proffered merchandise or to respond
to the suggestions of our foreman or our executive.
We also see why it is that a man may
increase his efficiency by pleasing those with
whom he has to work, whether they be customers
or employees.



CHAPTER VIII

THE LOVE OF THE GAME

AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY

THE motives discussed in previous chapters
are fairly adequate for developing
efficiency in all except the owner or
chief executive. The employee may imitate
and compete with his equals and his superiors;
he may work for his wage, and he may be loyal
to the house. To increase the industry and
enthusiasm of the head is a task of supreme
importance. Interest and enthusiasm must
be kindled at the top that the spark may be
passed down to the lower levels. It can never
travel in the opposite direction.

How, then, is the president to light his fires
and transmit his enthusiasm to his managers
and other subordinates? Not by working for

money alone, nor through imitation, competition,
or loyalty to the works of his own hands.
All these may be essential, may be powerful
subordinate incentives to action, but singly or
collectively they are not adequate. In any
organization, the head who attains the maximum
of success must depend for his enthusiasm
upon an instinctive love of the game.

The subordinate possessing such love of
the game and independent of others for his
enthusiasm is sure to rise. The subject is,
therefore, of vital importance both to the
executive and to the ambitious employee.
Every employer feels the need of such an attitude
towards work, both in himself and in his
men.

An attempt will be made in this chapter
to comprehend this instinctive love of the
game, to discuss to what extent it is inherited
and to what extent subject to cultivation, and
to analyze the conditions most favorable for
its development in respect to one's own work
as well as that of his employees.

The love of the game is in part instinctive,

and its nature is made clear by consideration
of certain of the instincts of animals.

The young lion spends much time in pretended
stalking of game and in harmless
struggles with his mates. He takes great
delight in the exercise of his cunning and in his
strength of limb and jaw. Fortunately for the
young lion this is the sort of activity best
adapted to develop his strength of muscle
and his cunning in capturing prey. However,
it is not for the sake of the training that the
young lion performs these particular acts.
He does them simply because he loves to. In
like manner the young greyhound chasing his
mates and the young squirrel gathering and
storing nuts have no thought beyond the instinctive
pleasure they find in performing these
functions. To each there is no other form of
activity so satisfactory.

Man possesses more instincts than any of
the lower animals. One pronounced instinct
in all normal males is the hunting instinct.
Grover Cleveland went fishing because he
loved the sport, not because of the value of

the fish caught. Theodore Roosevelt did not
hunt big game in Africa because he was in need
of luscious steaks or tawny hides. He was not
working solely in the interest of the Smithsonian
Institute nor to secure material for his
book. Doubtless these were subsidiary motives,
but the chief reason why he killed the
game was that he instinctively loves the sport.
He endured the hardships of Africa for the
same reason that fishermen spend days in the
icy water of a trout stream and hunters lie still
for hours suffering intense cold for a chance to
shoot at a bear.

_For some men, buying and selling is as great a
delight as felling a deer. For others the manufacture
of goods is as great a joy as landing a
trout. For such a man enthusiasm for his work
is unfailing and industry unremittent_.

He is suited to his task as is the cub to the
fight, the puppy to the chase, the squirrel to
the burying of nuts, or the hunter to the killing
of game. His labor always appeals to
him as the thing of supremest moment. His
interest in it is such that it never fails to in-

spire others by contagion. For such a man
laziness or indifference in business seems anomalous,
while industry and enthusiasm are as
natural as the air he breathes and as inexhaustible
as the air itself.

By classifying the love of the game as an
instinct, we seem to admit that it is born
and not developed; that some men possess
it and others do not; that if a man possesses
it, he does not need to cultivate it, and that
if he does not possess, he cannot acquire it.
There is doubtless much truth in this, but
fortunately it is not the whole truth.

Some instincts are specific--even stereotyped
--and not subject to cultivation or
change. Thus the bee's instinctive method of
gathering and storing honey is very specific
and definite. The bee is unable to modify its
routine to any great extent. The bee which
does not instinctively perform the different
acts properly will never learn to.

There are other instincts not so stereotyped
in manner or constant in degree. The
instincts of man are much more variable than

those of the lower animals and are much more
subject to direction, inhibition, or development.
If this love of the game were solely a
matter of inheritance, if the business genius
were born and not made, and if it could not
be cultivated and developed, our hope for the
improvement of the race would be small.

Potential geniuses exist in large numbers
but fail of discovery because they are not
developed. Instincts manifest themselves only
in the presence of certain stimulating conditions.
They are developed by exercise and
stimulated further by the success attending
upon their exercise.

Thus certain conditions, more or less definite,
are effective in determining the line along which
instincts shall manifest themselves, and the
extent to which the instincts shall be developed
and then ultimately supplemented by
experience and reason.

Fortunately we have reason to believe that
although the business genius must have a good
inheritance, yet the inheritance does not determine
what its possessor shall make of himself.

Many persons are inclined to overestimate
the influence of inheritance in determining
success in business. The folly of this attitude
is every day becoming more and more
apparent.

The conditions essential for developing
the love of the game in business may be
summarized under three heads:--

First, a man will develop a love of the game
in any business in which he is led to assume a
responsibility, to take personal initiative, to
feel that he is creating something, and that he
is expressing himself in his work.

As organizations become larger and more complex
in their methods, there is a corresponding
increase in the difficulty of making the employees
retain and develop this feeling of independent
and creative responsibility. Business
has become so specialized and the work of the
individual seems so petty that he is not likely
to feel that he is expressing himself through his
work or to retain a feeling of independence.
Properly conceived, there is no position in
trade or industry which does not warrant such

an attitude. To promote this attitude various
devices have been adopted by business firms.
Some try to put a real responsibility on each
employee and to make him feel it. Others
have devised forms of partnership which give
numerous employees shares in the business
and so help to develop this attitude.

In developing men for responsible positions
this attitude must be secured and retained
even while they are occupying the lesser
positions.

_Few things so stimulate a boy as the feeling
that he is responsible for a certain task, that he is
expressing himself in it, that he is creating something
worth while_.

Many managers and more foremen are
unable to develop this feeling in their subordinates
because they assume all the responsibility
and allow those under them no share of
it. On the other hand, some executives have
the happy faculty of inspiring this attitude
in all their men. The late Marshall Field
made partners of his lieutenants and encouraged
them to assume responsibility and to do

creative work. As a result they developed
a love of the game--a fact to which he owed
much of his phenomenal success.

The second condition or factor in the
development of the love of the game in business
is social prestige.

We have but partially expressed the nature
of man when we have spoken of him as delighting
in independent self-expression, as
being self-centered and self-seeking. Man is
inherently social in his nature and desires
nothing more than the approval of his fellows.
That which society approves we do with enthusiasm.
We change our forms of amusements,
our manner of life, and our daily occupations
according to the whims of society. Fifteen
years ago the riding of bicycles was quite the
proper thing, and we all trained down till we
could ride a century. To-day we are equally
enthusiastic in lowering bogy on the golf
course. This change in our ambitions is
not because it is inherently more fun to beat
bogy than to ride a century. The change has
come about simply because of the change of

social prestige secured from the two forms of
amusement.

We may expect to find enthusiastic industry
in the accomplishment of any task which
society looks upon as particularly worthy.
During the past few decades in America
society has given the capitalist unusual honor
and has allowed him monetary rewards unprecedented
in the history of the world.

If the capitalist had been honored less than
the poet, the preacher, or the soldier, and his
material rewards fallen below theirs, our
money captains would have been fewer in
number.

In spite of occasional muck rakings, society's
esteem for the capitalist has been unbounded.
He is in general the only man with
a national reputation. Society bestows upon
him unstinted praise and the most generous
rewards for his toil. His rewards are so extravagant
that the game seems worthy of every
effort he can put forth. Love of the game has
consequently been engendered within him,
and his enthusiasm has been unbounded.

This motive of social prestige is less easy
of application to the humbler ranks of employees.

Most men engaged in the industries are
entirely deprived of the stimulus because
their social group does not look with approval
upon their daily tasks. It may even despise
men for doing well work essential as preparatory
to better positions. There are many young
men engaged in perfectly worthy employment
who prefer that their social set should not
know of the exact nature of their work for
fear it would be regarded as menial and not
sufficiently ``swell.''

This disrespect for honest toil is due to
various causes. One cause is that nearly
all young men--and indeed most older men
too--look upon their present positions merely
as stepping stones. They look forward to promotion
and more interesting work. They and
their social group fail to accord dignity to the
work which they are doing at any time.

Another reason why the motive of social
prestige has no effect in the more humble

positions is that in business we have practically
abandoned the standard of the artist
and adopted that of the capitalist. The
artist's standard is diametrically opposed to
the capitalistic standard. We honor the capitalist
not for what he does, but for the money
he gets for what he does. We honor the artist
for what he does and never because of the
monetary considerations which follow his
creation.

_To substitute the standard of the artist for the
standard of the capitalist would be impossible
in business, yet a harmonious working of the
two is possible_.

Such a harmony was probably present in the
old industrial guilds, which developed a class
consciousness creating its own ideals. Within
the guild the most skillful workman had the
highest honor. The work itself, independent
of the money which might be received for it,
was uppermost in the worker's mind.

The executive seeking to stimulate love of
the game among his workmen should in some
way see that social approval attaches itself

to the work as such and not to the wage which
is secured by means of the work. The workmen
must be given an interest in the work as
well as in the wage.

Executives everywhere find that ``getting
together'' with others engaged in the same
work is most stimulating. We are inspired
by the presence of others engaged in the same
sort of work and giving approval to success in
our particular field.

_The third condition for securing a love of the
game is that the work itself must appeal to the
individual as something important and useful_.

Its useful function must be apparent, and
the necessity and advantage of perfect
performance must be emphasized. I play golf
because the game permits me to assert myself
and engage in independent and exhilarating
activity. My devotion to my professional
tasks, however, is dependent upon the fact
that I regard psychology, whether the work
be in research or instruction, as of the greatest
importance to science and to mankind in
general. The work as a whole and all the

details of it seem to me to be important. In
performing my daily tasks they seem to me to
be worthy of the most persistent and enthusiastic
effort.

Doubtless there are classes of work incapable
of appealing to individuals as does my work to
me. But in many instances work seems menial
and ignoble because it is not understood. It is
not seen in its relationships and broader aspects.
The single task as performed by the
individual is so small and so specialized that
it does not seem worth while.

The dignity of labor demands that the
workman should respect the work of his
hands.

He should look upon his accomplished
tasks as of inherent dignity independent
of the monetary recompense to be received.
To keep the workman's efficiency keyed up,
the employer should see to it that this broader
aspect of labor is emphasized and that the day
laborer finds some reason for his labor besides
his wage. It is the only game he may ever
have time to play. It is to the interest of

himself, his employer, and society at large that
he should enter enthusiastically into it and be
ennobled by it.

_Professional, technical, and vocational schools
are serving a noble function in emphasizing the
dignity of the work for which they are preparing
young men_.

They are more and more presenting the
broader aspects of the subjects taught. Even
the altruistic and extremely technical aspects
of the subject are found profitable. The narrower
and apparently the more practical course
does not result so successfully as the broader
and more cultural ones.

The boy who goes direct into work from
the public school is not likely to cordinate
his task with the general activity of the
establishment, and he is not likely to see how he
is in anyway contributing to the welfare of
humanity by his work. He needs to be shown
how each line of industry and profession serves
a great function, has an interesting history, and
is vitally connected with many of the most
important human interests. He should learn

to see how the different cogs are essential and
worthy factors in the total process. The boy
who thus comprehends his task looks upon it
and is inspired by it in a way that would
otherwise be quite impossible.

Some of the most successful houses have
been so impressed with the importance of this
form of industrial education that at their own
expense they have established night schools for
new employees as well as for those who have
been years with the firm. Not only are the
students taught how to perform their respective
tasks, but a broader program is attempted.
Sometimes an attempt is made to lead the
students to appreciate the dignity of the particular
activity in which the firm is engaged.
The history of the firm is then fully presented
so that the employees will comprehend the part
the house has actually taken in the world.
Some firms try to show each man how his
work is related to the work of the house as a
whole and to other departments. In various
ways schools and individual firms are successfully
attempting to inject a nobler regard

and appreciation for labor. The result is most
gratifying and manifests itself in increased
enthusiasm and other expressions of the increased
love of the game.

The three conditions which we have been
considering for developing the love of the
game are quite different, appeal to the different
sides of the individual, and are not all
equally applicable to the young man who
seeks to become a leader among his fellows or
to the manager of men who seeks to develop
leaders.

The attitude of independent, creative responsibility
appeals to our individualistic and
self-centered self. It is an attitude that may
be assumed by the ambitious young man and
encouraged by the manager. It is absolutely
indispensable for developing this much-coveted
love of the game in any form of useful endeavor.
It is readily assumed or developed in the chief
executive, but may be developed in subordinates
with great difficulty.

Social prestige appeals to our selfishly
social natures, and yet the desire to secure this

social favor is in the main ennobling. It is
of special value to the manager of large groups
of men. The manager may create the social
atmosphere which is most favorable to the
development of the love of the game in his
particular industry.

The last condition discussed, regard for
the work as important and as useful, makes
its appeal to our nobler and what we might in
some instances speak of as our altruistic selves.
This condition is equally serviceable to the
ambitious youth and to the successful superintendent
of men. We all look out for number
one, but appeals made to the higher self
are not unavailing. We are most profoundly
stirred when we are appealed to from all sides.
However, the love of the game will never be
universal in the professional and industrial
world. We can scarcely imagine the millennium
when all employees would cease to despise
their toil and cease to serve for pay alone.



CHAPTER IX

RELAXATION

AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY

_Be not therefore anxious for the Morrow_

A STUDY of the lives of great men is
both interesting and profitable. In
such a study we are amazed at the
records of the deeds of the men whom the
world calls great. The results of the labors
of Hercules seem to be approximated according
to many of these truthful accounts.

In studying the lives of contemporary business
men two facts stand out prominently.
The first is that their labors have brought about
results that to most of us would have seemed
impossible. Such men appear as giants, in
comparison with whom ordinary men sink to
the size of pygmies.

The second fact which a study of successful

business men (or any class of successful men)
reveals is that they never seem rushed for
time.

_Men noted for efficiency almost never appear to
be hurried. They have plenty of time to accomplish
their tasks, and therefore can afford to take
their work leisurely_.

Such men have time to devote to objects in
no way connected with their business. It cannot
be regarded as accidental that this characteristic
of mind is found so commonly among
successful men during the years of their most
fruitful labor.

According to the American Ideal, the man
who is sure to succeed is one who is continuously
``keyed up to concert pitch,'' who is ever
alert and is always giving attention to his business
or profession. As far as the captains of
industry are concerned, such is not the case.
They devote relatively few hours a day to their
strenuous toil, but they keep a cool head and a
steady hand. They are always composed,
never confused, but ever ready to attack a new
problem with their maximum ability. They

follow the injunction of Christ expressed in
His Sermon on the Mount: ``Be not therefore
anxious for the morrow.''

Of all the nations of the world, Americans
are supposed to be the hardest working. We
have attributed our industrial success to the
fact that there is a bustle and snap to our work
which are not equaled in any other country.
But recent students of the industrial world are
now telling us that even in the case of day
and piece labor this characteristic is frequently
a weakness rather than an advantage. They
say that the American product ``suffers from
hurry, want of finish, and want of solidity.''--
``Industrial Efficiency,'' Arthur Shadwell,
Vol. 1, p. 26.

_In the great middle class of American society,
there is a lack of repose and an absence of relaxation
which astonishes foreign observers_.

They tell us that we are wild-eyed and too
intense. Dr. Clauston of Scotland is quoted
as saying:--

``You Americans wear too much expression
in your faces. You are living like an army

with all its reserves engaged in action. The
duller countenance of the British population
betokens a better scheme of life. They suggest
stores of reserved nervous force to fall
back upon, if any occasion should arise that
requires it. The inexcitability, this presence
at all times of power not used, I regard as the
great safeguard of our British people. The
other thing in you gives me a sense of insecurity,
and you ought somehow to tone yourselves
down. You do really carry too much expression,
you take too intensely the trivial moments
of life.''

The late Professor William James of Harvard
makes the following pertinent remark
concerning the overtension of Americans:--

``Your intense, convulsive worker breaks
down and has bad moods so often that you
never know where he may be when you most
need his help,--he may be having one of his
`bad days.' We say that so many of our
fellow-countrymen collapse, and have to be
sent abroad to rest their nerves, because they
work so hard. I suspect that this is an im-

mense mistake. I suspect that neither the nature
nor the amount of our work is accountable
for the frequency and severity of our breakdowns,
but that their cause lies rather in those
absurd feelings of hurry and having no time,
in that breathlessness and tension, that anxiety
of feature and that solicitude of results,
that lack of inner harmony and ease, in short,
by which with us the work is apt to be accompanied,
and from which a European who should
do the same work would nine times out of ten
be free. . . . It is your relaxed and easy
worker, who is in no hurry, and quite thoughtless
most of the while of consequences, who
is your efficient worker; and tension and anxiety,
and present and future, all mixed up together
in one mind at once, are the surest
drags upon steady progress and hindrances to
our success.''--``Talks to Teachers,'' pp. 214-
218.

Mr. Joseph Lyons, who is recognized as one
of the particularly active and efficient men of
England, has taken great interest in the way
things are done in America. And after ob-

serving us at work here he expressed himself
as dissatisfied with the tension under which we
work. His words areas follows:--

``I do not believe in what Americans call
hustling. The American hustler in my opinion
does not represent the highest type of
human efficiency. He wastes a lot of nervous
power and energy instead of accomplishing
the greatest possible amount of work for the
force expended. Judging the American hustler
from my observation of him in his own country,
I should say that the American hustler
shows a lack of adaptation of means to ends
because he puts more mental, physical, and
nervous energy into his work at all times than
it demands. Regarded as a machine he is not
an economical one. He breaks down too often
and has to be laid off for repairs too often.
He tries to do everything too fast.''

When Mr. Lyons was asked to explain how
he had been able to accomplish so much without
hustling, he replied: ``By organizing myself
to run smoothly as well as my business;
by schooling myself to keep cool, and to do

what I have to do without expending more
nervous energy on the task than is necessary;
by avoiding all needless friction. In consequence,
when I finish my day's work, I feel
nearly as fresh as when I started.''-- Quoted
from _New York Herald_, Aug. 30, 1910.


RELAXATION A PHYSIOLOGICAL NECESSITY

_The necessity for relaxation is adherent in the
human organism. Even those life processes
which seem to be constant in their activity require
frequent periods of complete rest_.

The heart beats regularly and at short intervals,
but after each beat its muscles come
into a state of complete relaxation and enjoy
a refreshing rest, even though it be but for
a moment. Likewise the lungs seem to be
unceasing in their activity, but a careful study
of their action discloses the fact that every
contraction is followed by a perfect relaxation,
and that the rest secured between successive
respirations is adequate for recuperations.

In all bodily processes the same alternation is
discovered. No bodily activity is at all con-

tinuous. Mental processes, too, can be continued
for but a very short time. By attempting
to eliminate these periods of rest for bodily
and mental acts, we merely exhaust without a
corresponding increase in efficiency. The laws
of nature are firm and countenance no infringement.

The periods between activity and rest,
as well as the durations of the two processes,
may be changed. Thus, up to a certain limit,
the periods devoted to activity may follow
more rapidly and endure longer. There is,
however, a danger point which may not be
passed with impunity. The danger signal
may manifest itself in several ways: The over-
trained athlete becomes ``stale''; the over-
worked brain worker becomes nervous; the
overworked laborer becomes indifferent and
generally inefficient.

In all these and in similar instances, the
amount of energy expended is out of proportion
to the results of the labor. The athletic
trainer has learned to guard against overtraining
and is severely condemned for making

such a mistake. The brain worker often
regards overwork as a commendable thing.
However, sentiment is changing. The employer
of labor is finding that rest and relaxation
are essential to the greatest efficiency.
Employees accomplish as much in a week of
six days as they do in one of seven. The reduction
in the hours of daily toil has not decreased
the total efficiency.

The periods devoted to rest are not as
profitable as they should be unless they are
actually devoted to recuperation. It may be
that some of the time supposed to be devoted
to rest should be devoted to thoughts of toil.
Again during the hours of work there should
be a freedom from jerkiness, breathlessness,
nervousness, and anxiety. It is not necessarily
true that the greatest and most constant display
of energy accompanies the greatest presence
of energy. The tugboat in the river is
constantly blowing off steam and making a
tremendous display of energy, while the ocean
liner proceeds on its way without noise and
without commotion. The still current runs

deep, and the man who is actually accomplishing
the most is frequently--perhaps always the
man who is making the least display of his
strength. He can afford to be calm and collected,
for he is equal to his task. The man
who frets and fumes, who is nervous and excited,
who is strung up to such a pitch that
energy is being dissipated in all directions--
such a man proclaims his weakness from the
housetop.

_Many business men know they are going at a
pace that kills, and at the same time they feel
that they are accomplishing too little. For such,
the pertinent question is, How may I reduce the
expenditure of energy without reducing the
efficiency of my labor_?


The ability to relax at will and to remain in
an efficient condition, but free from nervousness,
is a thing which may be acquired more
or less completely by all persons. It is accomplished
by a voluntary control of the muscles
of the arms, legs, and face, by breathing
slowly and deeply, and by placing the body in a
condition of general relaxation.

This antecedent condition of relaxation
brings all the forces of the mind and body more
completely under control and makes it possible
to marshal them more effectively. It also
gives one a feeling of control and assurance,
which minimizes the possibility of confusion
and embarrassment in the presence of an important
task. The possibility of developing
the power of relaxation by means of special
training is being taken advantage of in teaching
acts of skill, in all forms of mental
therapeutics, and in numerous other instances
where overtension hinders the acquisition or
accomplishment of a useful act. By assuming
the attitude of assurance and composure, the
actual condition is produced in a manner most
astonishing to those who have never attempted
it. No man can do his best when he is hurried
and fearful, when he is expending energy in a
manner as useless as a tug blowing off steam.
That relief is within his own power seems to
him impossible. He is not aware of his power
of will to change from his state of anxiety to
one of composure.

That the gospel of relaxation is more important
to the chief executive than to the day
laborer is quite apparent. Even in the case of
the day laborer the crack of the lash and the
curse of the driver may have been capable of
securing a display of activity among the laborers,
but such means are not comparable in
efficiency to the more modern methods. Laborers
are now given more hours of rest, are
not kept fearful and anxious, but are given
short hours of labor and long hours of rest.
They are judged by the actual results of their
labor rather than by their apparent activity.

_When accomplishing intellectual work of any
sort, it is found that worry exhausts more than
labor_.

Anxiety as to the results is detrimental to
efficiency. The intellectual worker should
periodically make it a point to sit in his chair
with the muscles of his legs relaxed, to breathe
deeply, and to assume an attitude of composure.
Such an attitude must not, of course,
detract from attention to the work at hand,
but should rather increase it. Upon leaving

his office, the brain worker should cultivate
the habit of forgetting all about his business,
except in so far as he believes that some particular
point needs special attention out of
office hours. The habit of brooding over
business is detrimental to efficiency and is
also suicidal to the individual.

It is, of course, apparent to all that relaxation
may mean permanent indifference, and
such a condition is infinitely worse than too
great a tension. An employer who is never
keyed up to his work, and an employee who
goes about his work in an indifferent manner,
are not regarded in the present discussion.

A complete relaxation of the body often
gives freedom to the intellect. The inventor
is often able, when lying in bed, to devise his
apparatus with a perfection impossible when
he attempts to study it out in the shop. The
forgotten name will not come till we cease
straining for it. Very many of the world's
famous poems have been conceived while
the poet was lying in an easy and relaxed condition.
This fact is so well recognized by some

authors that they voluntarily go to bed in the
daytime and get perfectly relaxed in order
that their minds may do the most perfect
work. Much constructive thinking is done
in the quiet of the sanctuary, when the monotony
of the liturgy or the voice of the speaker
has soothed the quiet nerves, and secured a
composed condition of mind. The preacher
would be surprised if he knew how many costumes
had been planned, how many business
ventures had been outlined, all because of the
soothing influence of his words.

_This relaxation of the body not only gives
freedom to the intellect, but it is the necessary
preliminary condition for the greatest physical
exertion and for the most perfect execution of
any series of skillful acts_.

Mr. H. L. Doherty not only held the world's
championship in tennis, but he was the despair
of his opponents, because of the apparent lack
of exertion which he put forth to meet their
volleys. So far as an observer could judge,
Mr. Doherty kept only those muscles tense
that were used in the game. The muscles

especially necessary for tennis were also, so
far as possible, kept lax except at the instant
for making the stroke. Partly because of this
relaxation, his muscles were free from exhaustion
and under such perfect control that at the
critical moment he was able to exert a strength
that was tremendous and a skill that was
amazing.

In a very striking paragraph Professor James
has shown the reason why poise and efficiency
of mind are incompatible with tenseness of
muscles:--

``By the sensations that so incessantly pour
in from the overtense excited body the overtense
and excited habit of mind is kept up; and
the sultry, threatening, exhausting, thunderous
inner atmosphere never quite clears away. If
you never give yourself up wholly to the chair
you sit in, but always keep your leg and body
muscles half contracted for a rise; if you
breathe eighteen or nineteen instead of sixteen
times a minute, and never quite breathe out at
that,--what mental mood can you be in but
one of inner panting and expectancy, and how

can the future and its worries possibly forsake
your mind? On the other hand, how can they
gain admission to your mind if your brow be
unruffled, your respiration calm and complete,
and your muscles all relaxed?''--``Talks to
Teachers,'' p. 211.

In ancient Greece, one of the chief functions
of the school was to prepare citizens to profit
by the hours of freedom from toil. Herbert
Spencer, in his great work on Education, gives
a prominent place to training for leisure hours.
Such training is attracting the attention of
the American educator to-day as never before.
A few decades ago the majority of the American
population lived on farms, spent long hours of
the day in toil, and scarcely thought of recreation.
We have now become an urban population,
the hours of labor have been greatly reduced
during the days of the week, and Sunday
is a day in which the laborer is found in
neither the factory nor the church.

The employer of laborers fears the effect of
long hours of freedom from toil. He has
prophesied that such hours would be spent