Part 3

Now as it seems to me, the all-important facts in these cases do not relate to the nature of the rules, nor even to their non-enforcement, but to the downright neglect of railroad men to do as they are told. For, granted observance of them, all other questions in regard to the rules dissolve into thin air.

Unfortunately, the rules I have quoted and the interpretation put upon them by railroad men cannot be taken as examples standing alone, for they are merely illustrations of a principle that covers the whole cautionary field in our railroads. In some way we have got it into our heads that these rules are _permissive_, not _positive_. This permissive principle means the exercise of our own judgment according to circumstances, regardless of the rule. Acting under the influence of this principle, the flagman protects his train to the very letter of the rule when it is manifestly necessary, but when, in his opinion, it is not, he takes chances. In this way he forms a habit of using his own judgment in regard to a positive rule. Sooner or later this means a preventable accident.

The engineman encounters a single torpedo. According to his rules, he should bring his train to a full stop. But as he happens to have a clear track for a mile ahead of him he keeps on. He, too, forms a habit which has to be reckoned with some day.

Again, all trainmen understand that an express train has no business to run past a station while accommodation trains are discharging passengers. It is by no means an uncommon occurrence, however, to see an express train disregard these positive instructions, on the strength of hand motions given by trainmen on the accommodation train to the effect that they are about to start, and that the way is safe and clear for the flyer. Yet in this manner accidents happen, and passengers from the accommodation are always likely to be caught in a trap between the trains.

But the dangerous and widespread effects of the permissive principle applied to important rules will be appreciated to the full when we study the interpretation which railroad men in general are in the habit of applying to the word _caution_.

On all railroads there are certain fixed signals for the guidance and information of employees. When caution is called for, the light is usually green and the semaphore horizontal. Now, as the writer looks at it, when any signal indicates _caution_, it is not to be looked upon as a permissive or conditional signal to be interpreted at will by different enginemen. According to the rules and to common sense when a train, at the time a cautionary signal is sighted, is running thirty or forty miles an hour, it calls for a positive and not a theoretical reduction in speed. The cautionary signal is not merely a piece of information to be stowed away in the brain of the enginemen, to be utilized when a rear end or a broken rail is sighted.

Although for a number of years the inflexible enforcement of the rules relating to these cautionary signals has been advocated, yet to-day train after train will run past these semaphores and green lights without any reduction in speed, provided the track ahead of them is seen to be clear.

Here we tackle the very heart of the matter, for in so far as the rules and common sense are concerned, it should not make a particle of difference to the engineman whether the track ahead is or is not known to be clear of trains; his instructions call for cautious running, and by no possible interpretation or juggling with words can cautious running, or running under control, be taken to mean running at full speed. Yet in the way I have indicated the cancer of a very dangerous habit has been allowed to grow into the American system of managing trains. This wrong interpretation of the word _caution_ by enginemen and others has without a shadow of doubt during the past few years cost the corporations thousands upon thousands of dollars and multitudes of human lives. For if railroad managers labor under the delusion that enginemen can run _cautiously at full speed_ when the track is clear, and avoid disaster when from unforeseen reasons another train happens to be on the same section, they are very much mistaken.

Practically speaking, then, the permissive principle covers the whole field of railroad life, and is a constant menace alike to the interests of the corporations and to those of the traveling public. As a matter of fact, we, the employees, are bigger than the rules. According to our way of thinking, it is not alone necessary that a rule should be plain and sound from a general standpoint, but its downright meaning and necessity must also be evident in each and every particular instance. If it fails to stand this test, we consider ourselves at liberty to use our judgment in regard to it.

Illustrations of the danger that lurks in this permissive principle can be multiplied indefinitely. But, after all, it is only a link in the chain, for there are other features in the personality of railroad men that call for serious attention.

The other day, within a few miles of Boston, an express passenger train approached a railroad crossing at grade. For some reason the gate-tender was negligent and failed to lower the gates. By reason of just such negligence, teams are frequently struck and lives are lost at these crossings. On all railroads, the rules are quite plain and unmistakable in regard to such matters. It is the duty of the engineman to report the incident to the management. As a matter of fact on this particular occasion the engineman failed to do so. He failed to appreciate the fact that the safety of the public at these crossings is altogether dependent upon the strict observance of the rules. He had scruples and emotional objections, perhaps, to reporting this gate-tender, and rather than do so he took all the chances in connection therewith, chief among which is the simple fact that on a railroad unchecked negligence can be depended upon to breed disaster.

That railroad men in general are either indifferent to or ignorant of the importance of the above fundamental fact will be made still clearer by another illustration. On September 16, 1907, that is, on the day following the disaster at West Canaan, N. H., the writer was a witness of the violation of two most important rules by a number of enginemen, conductors, and brakemen. A switch leading from the west- to the east-bound main line was left open while an express passenger train was passing inward bound. A freight train was on the west-bound track waiting to back over. Two minutes later, _with his train only halfway in to clear the main line_, the engineman on the freight whistled in his flagman in the face of an accommodation passenger train which had followed the express. From beginning to end, on the permissive principle, it was a perfectly safe transaction, for there was a mile of straight track in both directions; but the rules for the running of the trains and for the safety of the public were violated. The witnesses were seven or eight veteran railroad men, who looked upon the affair as perfectly proper and justifiable under the circumstances. It never entered the heads of these men that the affair should be reported to the management. That some of the best men in the service should behave in this way, as it were in the very shadow of the accident at West Canaan, is almost inconceivable. Of course, if these incidents stood by themselves their significance might be comparatively trifling; but as a matter of fact they are illustrations of a condition which is thoroughly typical of American railroads. This condition or situation may be briefly yet correctly outlined as follows:--

There is practically _no out-on-the-road supervision_ on American railroads.

Railroad managers depend upon the reports of employees for information in regard to violations of rules. But employees do not, and cannot be compelled to, report their associates; consequently negligence of all kinds is practically unchecked.

Finally: unchecked negligence can be shown to be the root and direct cause of nearly all preventable accidents, and loss of life therefrom, on American railroads.

Here we have a conclusion worth looking into. At a glance we perceive that negligence is the prime and fundamental fact. It is the direct cause of the trouble. The fact that the negligence is _unchecked_ is important, yet secondary. It should be treated as a separate issue, and it must stand or fall on its own merits.

But our conclusion that accidents result in almost all cases from unchecked negligence should be supported by evidence and proof. For examples in support of it, let us take two of the most disastrous wrecks in the history of New England railroads.

On November 26, 1905, at Baker Bridge in Lincoln, Mass., seventeen people were killed and thirty injured. An express passenger train was following an accommodation train, which was somewhat late. Cautionary signals calling for reduced speed and careful running were passed at intervals by the express train, but, according to the evidence, the engineman paid no attention to them; hence the accident. Now the habitual negligence in regard to these cautionary signals was a matter of common knowledge. In fact, attention was called to the matter both before and after the accident by the writer. The unchecked negligence in this particular case was therefore directly responsible for the accident and the loss of life.

Again, on September 15, 1907, at West Canaan, N. H., twenty-five people were killed and forty injured. The unchecked negligence in this case is by no means so striking as in the previous example, and yet the evidence pointing in that direction is quite as significant. A mistake occurred in the transmission of an important train order. This mistake was the direct cause of the accident. For various reasons it was impossible to say by whom the mistake was made.

Now let us turn to our book of rules and take note of the following instructions to train dispatchers and operators: “In transmitting messages write slowly and firmly,” etc.

With all proper consideration for hard-worked and conscientious train dispatchers, I am compelled to confess that train orders are seldom if ever sent “slowly and firmly.” Operators will bear me out in the statement that orders are transmitted by dispatchers as fast as the men can handle them. That is to say, between veterans in the business they are rattled off at the highest limit of speed. The men concerned in the accident at West Canaan were veterans. Had the man at West Canaan been a “plug,” that is, a green hand, in all probability the accident would not have occurred. While, of course, this is merely a supposition, yet the fact remains that the men would have been transmitting _slowly and firmly, and the chances for a mistake would have been reduced to a minimum_.

I thoroughly understand and appreciate the difficulties with which the train dispatcher has to contend. I am quite aware that he is called upon to handle trains with the utmost dispatch; nevertheless, I insist that, in order to reduce chances of accident to a minimum, train orders should in all cases be transmitted slowly and firmly. I stand by the rules. The issue is between speed and safety, and in all cases the latter should be given the right of way.

Thoughtful railroad men, who understand the situation on the railroads at the present day, are yet very slow in suggesting remedies. They say, “It is up to the management to enforce the rules.” On the other hand, if a superintendent can be persuaded to express an opinion he will retort, “It is up to the men to obey the rules. They are plain enough and sufficient for the purpose, but we cannot station a spy at every switch to make sure that the rules are obeyed. We have to depend on the personality and general intelligence of our employees.”

It will, I think, be evident from the facts and conditions that we have been considering, that whatever secondary causes there may be for preventable railroad accidents, the trainmen themselves hold the key to the situation. They are at liberty to obey the rules, and thus solve the problem in the only way in which it ever can be solved; or, they can continue to place upon these rules a wrong interpretation, and thus evade their manifest meaning and purpose. As matters stand to-day between labor organizations and railroad managers, it is very doubtful if by any practical system of supervision or discipline the rules for the safe and efficient running of trains can in all cases and at all times be adequately enforced. Thus the whole business resolves itself into a personal matter with us as conscientious railroad men. Singly and collectively, it is up to us to do the square thing, if necessary, in spite of the management.

As the case stands to-day, we railroad men are in a class by ourselves. We are well-paid, well-treated, well-educated, and well-organized. In all that pertains to our material well-being we compare more than favorably with any other class of workers in the country; but considered as responsible individuals intrusted with the care of railroad property and the safety of the traveling public, our records are very unsatisfactory. The truth of this conclusion is not open to question. We cannot escape from the statistics and the figures; and, day by day, the evidence against us continues to accumulate.

There are many people who think that the intelligence and education of the twentieth-century railroad man can be depended upon to guard against the shortcomings to which I have called attention. On the contrary, I am inclined to think that the intellectual independence of the railroad men is in itself a danger to be guarded against. Standing by itself, the statement that knowledge is power is a fallacy. Knowledge is only a means. Its benefit to any one is always an open question. In other words, the secret of power is in the application of knowledge. Thus when we analyze a modern railroad accident we are forced to the conclusion that many railroad men take chances by reason of the supreme confidence which they possess in their own cleverness and ability to deal with an emergency, however sudden. This resourceful characteristic of Americans is a splendid thing from a general standpoint, but in the railroad business it has its stern limitations. Only too many of our accidents are illustrations, not of lack of knowledge or resource, but of the downright misapplication of these intellectual features. In some cases we find an over-supply of self-confidence, in others a disinclination to knuckle right down to the observance of plain and positive instruction. In such cases a man cannot be called the fortunate possessor of intellectual advantages, but their manifest victim.

Railroad managers, therefore, sooner or later will come to understand that the one thing needed in the railroad business at the present day is to educate employees to appreciate the fact that successful and safe railroading in the future will have to depend, not upon the multiplication of safety devices or the reconstruction of rules, but upon the personal effort and conduct of conscientious, alert, and careful men.

Meanwhile, thought counts; and it is a good idea for practical railroad men to look into and study these problems, each according to his ability and the light that is in him.

III

THE MANAGEMENT

The problem of safety in railroad travel has been discussed, from widely different points of view, by many conscientious investigators. The methods of these writers in marshaling facts and drawing conclusions are usually identical. The formula consists of a variety of accidents, a variety of causes, and a variety of possible or proposed remedies. For results, up to date, we have a library of information, but not a suspicion of improvement, in the record of preventable fatalities. Meanwhile, in the public mind there is confusion of ideas and considerable doubt as to the practical outcome of all this discussion. This is a natural state of affairs, for the reason that the only factor in the situation which is constant, and about which there is no difference of opinion, is the impotency of railroad people in coping with the difficulties.

Now, after all that has been spoken and written on the subject of efficient and safe railroad service, the problem remains, as at the beginning, essentially personal, social, and ethical in its nature. Nearly all questions in regard to it must, sooner or later, be thought out in this direction by railroad employees and managers. We may continue to work over and reconstruct our rules and to multiply our safety devices until we compel trains to creep from station to station; yet the problem will remain unsolved, the needless and disgraceful sacrifice of life will continue, until trainmen, enginemen, and managers put their heads together and agree to adopt a new code of railroad morals. My meaning when I allude to railroad morals should be clearly understood.

On nearly all railroads a given rule is obeyed at one point and disregarded at another, on account of different sets of conditions. This conduct leads to accidents when men who have habitually disobeyed the regulations at points where such action is harmless undertake to behave in the same way under conditions when a strict observance of the rules is vitally important. Generally speaking, managers are cognizant of this state of affairs, and thus in a measure they are morally to blame for it; but I do not think that they realize the extent of the evil, for the reason that any organized out-of-door supervision is unknown, and thus the report of an accident, that is to say, the result of these practices, is usually the first and only information on the subject that reaches the manager’s office. The blame for accidents that happen in this way cannot be said to rest upon any particular class of employees or to depend upon their intelligence or length of service. Among the culprits you will find some of the oldest and most experienced men as well as some of the greenest. This goes to show that the trouble is inherent in the system, and a part of the everyday life and character of armies of railroad men.

But in a straightforward investigation of this nature it is particularly desirable to get hold of all the facts that can be used in any way to throw light on the situation, and there is only one method, as yet untried, for properly securing and emphasizing these facts. Let us call this the confessional method. In the hands of a competent witness it can be depended upon to furnish us with all the information necessary for a thorough comprehension of our subject. This confessional method has nothing to conceal. It has no axe to grind, no interests to protect. It is born of a heartfelt appreciation of the seriousness of the situation on our railroads. Mindful of the ever-increasing and lamentable loss of life caused by the unstudied indifference and negligence of employees, as well as by the blindness of the authorities to the real issues and dangers, it approaches and takes hold of the problem somewhat in the spirit of the King in “Hamlet,” when in an agony of remorseful retrospection he exclaimed, “Try what repentance can: what can it not?”

That there is an urgent call for this confessional method of supplying the facts in this railroad business is capable of easy demonstration. When an accident takes place on a railroad, some kind of an explanation or reason for its occurrence is immediately called for. Consequently there is a lining up of opposing interests. A certain management has to be vindicated, certain employees to be defended. In the investigation that follows, an array of facts defensive and otherwise is brought forward in the interests of the opposing parties; but evidence and facts that are likely to reflect on both men and management, and perhaps on the handling of the case or of other cases by the Board of Railroad Commissioners, are studiously avoided. The facts that are suppressed in this way usually contain the heart of the whole business, and are the very points in which the public is profoundly interested. An illustration in point will make this doubly clear.

About a year ago, in an accident near Troy, N. Y., five passengers were killed and many were injured. A special passenger train crashed into the rear of a regular passenger train. There is a sharp curve in the track a short distance above the scene of the collision. Had the special been handled carefully round this curve instead of recklessly, the accident would not have occurred. Caution, of course, is necessary in running round sharp curves, and the rules on all railroads are plain and emphatic on the subject. But the authorities who investigated this accident treated it as an isolated instance of individual carelessness. Within a period of six months these gentlemen are called upon to pass judgment on probably twenty wrecks, every one of them bearing the same earmarks of disobedience as this disaster near Troy, yet no one ever dreams of hunting up a common cause for dozens of accidents that are exactly similar and brought about in the same way. To be precise, this accident at Troy was the result of a habit. At a glance we perceive that the public is a hundred times more likely to be interested in the uprooting of such a bad habit as running recklessly round curves than it is in placing the responsibility or punishing the offender in any particular instance. Yet who ever heard of a verdict that placed the blame for an accident on a habit? The reasons for the oversight are obvious. A dangerous habit, long continued and unchecked, is a decided reflection on men and management, and, indeed, on the Railroad Commissioners, whose vigilance it has escaped; and consequently no evidence or facts in regard to these bad habits are ever permitted to find their way into investigations. It will be evident, therefore, that the confessional method can be profitably employed in supplying a few missing links in our knowledge of actual conditions and methods of operation on the railroads.