UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA DEPARTMENT OF PHILOSOPHY THE CRISIS IN INDUSTRY (CROWNED WITH THE WORTH PRIZE) THOMAS WOLFE CHAPEL HILL PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY 1919 Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library Gift of Seymour B. Di rs i Old York Library Go* ' o 9 UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA DEPARTMENT OF PHILOSOPHY THE CRISIS IN INDUSTRY CCROWNED WITH THE WORTH PRIZE) THOMAS WOLFE CHAPEL HILL PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY 1919 3 ■ xS INTRODUCTION The Worth Prize is maintained by Mr. C. W. Worth, '82, in memory of his father, Mr. D. G. Worth, Wilmington, N. C. The prize was established in 1882 by Mr. D. G. Worth in appreciation of the excellent work done in Philosophy by Mr. C. W. Worth. The list of Worth Prize men, headed by Mr. C. W. Worth, is a unique group. Some of them have now national reputation. One has published more books than any other alumnus of the University. One of these books, The Philosophy of Education, has been translated into four languages, including that of Japan. The prize is awarded to the best thesis submitted in the courses in Philosophy and consists in having this thesis printed. To achieve this honor gives a man distinction in University life. When one thinks of the subjects studied in these theses, he marvels at the courage of the men. They enjoy full free- dom in this matter and reach their own conclusions. The instructor seeks to give vital stimulus and then submerge. Mr. Thomas Wolfe, the winner of the prize for 1919, makes an innovation, as to subject. He tells us about Industry. The students who look below the surface will agree that Industry is now the source of human anxiety. Many believe we are face to face with one of those profound storms that come in man's life every few centuries. So far man has been unable to pass through such an up- heaval without the liberal use of big violence. The result has been vast loss and deep suffering. Not only the body, but the mind and soul have suffered. It may be that violence is an instrument of progress. If Philosophy shall be able to throw any light upon the problem of Industry, or aid in advancing gentler methods of progress, the effort justifies itself. H. H. WILLIAMS. Chapel Hill, N. C, 1919. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/crisisinindustryOOwolf THE CRISIS IN INDUSTRY "Wars," the philosopher says, "are the birth pangs of truths." "Great wars," he continues, "are the birth pangs of master truths." We have just seen a great war come to its close. If any truth has come from that war, it is the truth of modern labor becoming conscious of itself as a vital, breath- ing, compelling force. The industrial problem looms before us in an almost menacing aspect. We know today that the issue demands immediate settlement. Victorious in our war with the common foe we are today appalled by the mutter- ings of something far more dreadful, — industrial civil strife. Let us consider, for a minute, the viewpoint of the detached observer. One of Japan's most distinguished statesmen, Count Okuma, looking across the world at the great war just closed, declared it to be nothing less than the death of modern civilization. Just as the civilizations of Babylon, Egypt, Greece, Carthage, and the Roman Empire have crumbled in succession, so, in his opinion, our modern civilization is even now going the same way. Whether this be true or not, it is certain that from the world struggle we may see the destruc- tion of an industrial civilization which the workers will not want to build back. And the danger now is that at this period of crisis, it may be easier to pass into ruin than to move onward. There is the problem. In the midst of all these volcanic outbreaks of industrial trouble in the different parts of our country, thinking people are asking each other, "What does labor want?" It is a puzzling question. The wages for which labor works are higher than ever before, the living and working conditions of the workers are almost ideal compared with those of even a generation ago, — the whole industrial scheme seems regulated on a more humane scale. 6 The Cbisib in Inddstet But it becomes evident, at this time, that these petty, paltry bickerings, for a six-hour day, higher wages, meal times, and all the rest, do not in even the slightest degree represent the fundamental nature of these men's demands, — demands that became clearly denned during the war, and that now cry for answer. On the other hand, I do not assume for a minute that the doctrines of Socialism or Bolshevism demanding the destruc- tion of the capitalist system and advocating the conscious class warfare represents the attitude of labor in general, or that such methods as these are the motivating purposes of any large group of leaders and workers with the exception, perhaps, of one or two restricted areas. No — the labor movement has nothing in common with this kind of doctrine. I believe it realizes the fundamental right of capital to a share in the business of production ; what it protests against is the fact that under the present system, labor itself does not have a share, and it asserts that its right to an equal share is just as true, and just as fundamental as the right of capital. The fact that the great body of workers have not defined sharply the nature of their demands does not, for a minute, indicate that they do not know what they want. The awak- ening of labor may not as yet be complete; its consciousness of itself may not be realized to the utmost. I do not think it is yet, but its newly gained knowledge is not obscure. The whole experience of the war has been to clarify its vision. Labor today is in active revolt against the whole system whereby its labor, the product of its blood, bone, sinew, and brain is treated as a commodity — something to be bought at will, the price of which may be forced up or down, just as the price of flour or sugar. If labor is a commodity, then its demands that it have a directive power in the expenditure of its own labor, its assumption that it is engaged in a busi- ness with capital and that business is production, its state- ment that its contribution to that business is just as essential as the contribution of capital, and that, therefore, it should The Ckisis in Industby 7 be entitled to the control of this business with capital on a basis of equal co-partnership, — if, I say, the assumption that labor is a commodity is correct, then labor is unjustified in these beliefs and demands. For a commodity, to my mind, is devoid of life, or, if it possesses life, that life is insensate and devoid of consciousness. But I do not believe that labor is a commodity. Labor has life — in fact, labor is life. Remove life and there is no labor. No one would say that a machine labors ; — it runs. The desire to work, to labor, is fundamental in a man, it is not a mechanical process; it comes from his inmost being, I sincerely believe. There is a sacredness about labor, it is of a religious na- ture even — and religion is fundamental in the lives of men. If, then, labor is life, and not insensate; if labor is pos- sessed of an intelligent consciousness of itself and the work- ings of its life, it becomes manifest that labor itself, in the intelligent consciousness of itself, becomes its own unit of value, the directive force of its own working, the source of its own purposes and that, in short, it dominates its own ex- istence, and cannot, by right, be forced to the obedience of any outward imposition. What labor wants, as I see it, is its right to self-direc- tion. Capital does not recognize this right. Whereas the swift, sure progress of labor consciousness is today well marked and may be, at all times, clearly defined, I am unable to discover a corresponding process on the part of capital. These capitalist folk, your owning and directing, and manag- ing people, remain blind to the fundamentals of the problem. In a few isolated places, one perhaps catches a gleam, but, for the rest, they cannot understand the attitude of labor. The trouble is : Capital is now as static as it was fifty years ago. As some one has said, the chief difference is golf. These men, for the most part, seem to have learned neither humanity or caution from the tedious times our nation has gone through. Instead of awakening to the new sense of values, they rather brand, as does a large part of society, the s The Crisis in Industry workers as "L W. W.'s," "Slackers," "Bolshevists,"— workers who, becoming conscious of their social and human value, realizing their problem is a human one, are striving to carry that new sense into a reformed industrial system. The capitalist class do not seem to realize that the "old order changeth," that it is changed, God willing, for all time. The significance of the war seems lost on them. But — there can be no patchwork reconstruction now. I do not believe that now that the war is over, now that we have emerged from the holocaust, that what remains to be reconstructed is this or that bureau of government, this or that machine of administration. No — the meaning of the war is more funda- mental, more vital than any of these. The whole society must be reconstructed. Labor sees this, in general capital does not. Thus, as we have seen, the labor group is in active revolt against the old system. They know it must change. And they are trying to change it now, using as their method the so-called "direct action," the strike. But — here another problem arises. It is plain labor sees the problem, manifestly they are clear in their knowledge of what they want, — but, do they see the solution? Is force a remedy of the vast industrial problem? The unrestricted use of force by both classes, capitalist and labor, is, I think, a dangerous sequence, the terrible re- flex action of the giant strife that has been waged throughout the world. It manifests itself now in class warfare here. In- flamed by privations and suffering, it shows itself as civil war in Russia and Germany. The war parallel, I think, is a good one. The neutral ob- server, which, in the industrial strife, is supposedly the citi- zenship without the two classes, may protest against the quality of a justice, which, acting from itself, is the judge of its own cause, and the vindication of itself through its tri- umphant force. It is the age-old idea of "Might Is Right." But might is not right, and can never vindicate its cause. Force everywhere sweeps aside its moral obligations and The Crisis in Industry 9 runs its own course unmindful of the rights of others. In- sistent on its own rights, it forgets that words "right" and "duty" are, or should be, inseparably linked. What of the duty to the neutral, if I may use the war parallel again? If two boys fight in the street a crowd gathers to watch them, — they are separated, — the crowd goes it way. In a class warfare waged between labor and capital, the crowd, which is the third group, the consumers of production, can- not look on with the detached viewpoint. No ! The prob- lem is so vast, it is so close to the heart of national life, that the whole body of the nation is affected deeply, powerfully. The question yet remains to be answered : Can any class, in- sistent on its own rights, obtain them with rampant forco, at the expense of universal suffering? This idea of force used in the interests of the class is the natural builder of its own rights, the satisfaction of its in- wrought cravings is expressed unconsciously, but masterfully, in the exlcamation of the Frenchman, Pichon : ' ' Has the vic- tor no rights over the vanquished?" I will answer the Frenchman that the victors have no rights over the vanquished because of their victory. I do not believe the use of force ever settled any problem. Class warfare is being waged throughout the country now. The strike — the direct action, the method of force is the com- mon agency. Whenever the labor group obtains its demands or part of them, a shout of triumph goes up from labor's ranks. Similarly, when capital is successful in hold-out methods, there is great rejoicing among capitalists. The victory of the moment has been won ; these men do not pause to consider the fact that they are as far away from a solution, nay, further, than ever. When we consider this question rea- sonably, when we consider the fundamental demand of labor that it engage in business with capital on a basis of mutual responsibility, and mutual democratic co-partnership, a de- mand admitted in isolated cases by capital, — we see plainly that instead of being drawn closer together until they meet at a solution, the method of force has only served to antago- 10 The Crisis in Industry nize the two classes, until now they face each other in sep- arate armed camps, ready, at the provocation of prejudice, to wage blind, futile warfare. The solution to the problem is, I think, fairly obvious. Intelligent people today admit, nor can any decent-minded person deny, in this day, that the demand of labor for demo- cratic co-operation is unreasonable. Indeed, in a political democracy, the only natural parallel here would be industrial democracy. We feel today that capitalist absolutism must go, that any form of capitalist domination is hateful. Like- wise, we know that a reversal of the system whereby labor would hold the dominant position would be just as undesir- able. There is, to my mind, but one adequate solution. That solution, broadly put, is industrial democracy, — a system of democratic co-operation in industry with equal rights and responsibilities for labor and capital. It is significant to note that the first two methods depend on force for their maintenance — the last method depends on co-operation, — on the inherent willingness of men to listen to reason. Is there not a living hope for us that the prin- ciples of democracy and self-determination, which are being put to the test today in government, can meet the test in in- dustry? It seems to me that there is a compelling parallelism here, that the success or failure in the one phase stands for a corresponding success or failure in the other. It is too much, to my mind, to hope that the labor class will effect this desirable solution by themselves. They see, as we know, the problem, they have come into a realization of their right, but they do not see a proper solution. The method of force is, I believe, a natural, but a dis- tinctly menacing sequence to the war just ended. If, in the fact of labor's display of force, government misunderstands it, and retaliates with a rival and superior display of force, then let us say farewell to our hopes of de- mocracy. Capital could, I suppose, conscript an army large enough to quell for the time rebellious labor. But, even if the The Crisis in Industry 11 strife which sets brother against brother should succeed, labor would still be alive in the flaming spirit of revolt. We cannot consider labor a category; it is human — a mass of men and women workers. We may stigmatize the labor movement all we choose, — we may call it selfish, men- acing, rebellious, thoughtless — any of these names, but the fact remains that labor has possession of a great truth. Labor knows that the system — the blind system that treats man as an adjunct to the machine, has nearly crushed out the little lives of the workers. And it is making its effort to get this blind power in hand. As I have said, I do not think labor has attained a full consciousness of itself; that will evolve. I think some phases of the movement are faulty. Labor makes its mistake, I think, in making the same de- mands for the mass of the workers. In this respect, it seems to be a mass movement. But it is evident that the capabilities of individual workmen must always be considered. The capacity of one individual for work may be either greater or less than those of another. Such a thing as real equality in this respect is, to my mind, hardly possible. It is granted, perhaps, that individuals have equal oppor- tunities for work under a reformed industrial system. It does not hold, however, that individuals have equal capac- ities for work, and labor today in its onward movement has manifestly not taken this into consideration. This, however, is a natural mistake and one which may be remedied. And now, how does the problem stand? We see labor has come into a realization of its self as a body vital with the power of life, intelligent as to its work- ings, and sure of its function in industry. We realize that no reasonable solution to our problem will ever be obtained by the use of force — by the strike which breaks out sporad- ically at this time in various parts of the country. The so- lution to labor appears to be the strike, the use of force That is no true solution. 12 The Crisis in Industry Now, since this problem is one that affects the vitals of national life and unity, it is obviously the business of govern- ment to aid the workers to attain the true solution. If the government sees only on the surface, and attempts to crush labor by a superior display of force, the result will be nothing less than terrible civil strife. As it seems to me, the issue stands squarely before the government. Labor no longer bus faith in government as a legislative remedy for their problem. Labor puts no depend- ence in the ballot today — this means is inadequate, — we have in its place the strike, the direct action. Where lies the fault? Largely, I think, with government. A few months ago one of the most memorable sessions of Con- gress in the nation's history came to a close. It was mem- orable not for what it had done but for what it had left un- done. The industrial condition during the months immedi- ately following the signing of the armistice grew and is grow- ing, as I write this, continually more menacing. Congress, with great care, kept away from the industrial problem. The session, for the most part, was concerned by petty, party bick- erings, back-bitings and partisan politics of a paltry nature. I say th's with no attempt to be sensational, with no spirit of bitterness, — it seems an obvious statement of fact. Faced with a condition like this, what can labor do? The final solution is left for government. In the first place, what is our conception of democracy? Some say it is the rule of the majority? If this is so, what chance have the minority for the attainment of their honest desires? Is this a true conception of democracy? It is, perhaps, the accepted conception, but is this not a sordid, insensate thing? "We think of democracy as alive, as vital. Can the majority establish its cause by mere right of numbers ? I do not think so. The right of numbers is analog- ous to the right of force. As well might we say the gladiator should die because the majority of the Roman populace turned down its thumbs. Yet, here is a living obstacle. "With the powerful press The Crisis in Industry 13 of the country denouncing labor as insurrectionary and men- acing, with public opinion being moulded adversely day by day, with the denunciation of the whole capitalist system, what can a minority group do? Labor is employing the or- ganized community threat — the strike, to get its demands. What must the government do? If the majority turn down the thumbs to a minority group, — that group is sub- jected to a democratic tyranny, — contradictory as the state- ment may sound. Likewise, the minority may retaliate by the strike method and the business of the whole community will be paralyzed. It is a reversible action. This condition must be changed. The real problem, most evidently, is not arriving at the solution, which, expressed broadly, is industrial democracy. The solution is evident. The problem now is making the solution possible for the labor group. This must be done by the government. The only possible way this can be done, as I see it, is to allow labor itself to determine its inner workings. It amounts to an industrial application of "self-determination." The prejudice of the many can no longer, in justice, be allowed to curtail the conscious development of the few ; the workers owe a duty of production to the nation, — this, they must fulfill, — as for the industrial status they desire, this must be established and maintained by co-operative means between and by the two groups of industry. It is the right of these men to their own conscious devel- opment, — it is something they must decide within themselves without any outward imposition. The principle of self-determination, intended primarily for the small nation, which our democracy now advocates, must finally, I think, be used industrially, as well as politically. And — government must recognize and promote this. With a feeling almost of regret I come to my conclusion. The problem that once to me was economic is now plainly 14 The Crisis in Industry and undeniably human. It deals with the lives of men and women, their right to the conscious development of their selves. What I have written gives me no satisfaction. For the mutterings of a coming strike become daily more threatening. Force, the blind weapon, is being used extensively, — may I not say exclusively? What will the future bring? I do not know. Is the state- ment of the Japanese to come true? Are we facing the de- struction of our modern civilization ? Again, I do not know. Will the blood of our young men be expended — this time in civil strife, — family against family, brother against brother? God forbid! i ^ i AVERY PROLEGOMENA to THOMAS WOLFE'S A CRISIS IN INDUSTRY by Richard Walser Ballingers' Used and Rare Bool^s Hillsborough, N.C. 1978 mm PROLEGOMENA by Richard Walser Any zealous Thomas Wolfe collector would give his right eye - yes, and also his left arm - to possess a mint copy of that rarest of Wolfe titles. The Crisis in Industry. Of the two hundred copies printed, probably no more than a dozen or so exist. On the cover of the gray wrappers was the identical wording of the title page, and inside were fourteen pages of white paper watermarked '"Olde Style." It was an undergraduate essay handed out to family and friends (no one else would have been interested) who, after a thank-you and congratulations and a quick look, consigned it to a dark corner and on to the thoughtless dust pile and destruction. The essay of nine-plus pages was the winner of the Worth Prize in Philosophy, established in the 1880s at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Several days before Wolfe's name was announced, an article on com- mencement awards in the campus weekly Tar Heel of June 14, 1919. explained that the "best thesis submitted by a student in Philosophy" would receive the prize and it would be printed by the donor. That same issue of the Tar Heel reported that Thomas Wolfe had been elected its editor-in-chief for the following year and that during the previous week he had read, "at a big mass meeting" of students in Gerrard Hall, a paper on "The Creative Move- ment in Writing," its text forthwith appearing therein. By no means were these the only recognitions he received at the end of his junior year. Tall eighteen-year-old Tom Wolfe was a busy man on campus, an important man, and a very popular man with both faculty and students. The Worth Prize was just another honor added to an impressive list. During the winter and spring quarters, Wolfe had taken philosophy under Professor Horace Williams, a crusty old fellow whose classes relied mainly on the question-and- answer method. A textbook was assigned and a "thesis" required, but otherwise the sessions were rather free-for- all discussions at which Wolfe said himself he was "no Prolegomena 2 slouch " On the second course of Philosophy 15-16 "a study of the forces that shape life." according to the university Calalnguc Wolle drew an A Though Williams boasted that he rarely gave an A. by the spring of 1919 he had decided that the Asheville young man was "the most brilliant student I ever had" and. as it was rumored on campus, nothing less than an A and a Worth Prize were appropriate The latter was so in spite of the fact that Wolfe's entry was contrary to what might have been expected. Basic to Williams' class discussions were Hegelian abstractions like the Hegriff (concept ), and students were encouraged to use the German word. They were taught to push their heads into the clouds Former winners of the Worth Prize bore such titles as "The Principles of Subjectivity" and "Can the Universe Be txplauied?" While Wolfe was of course capable of writing undergrad- uate trifles like "The Place of the Church in Religion." he now took flight on a matter quite different. In the months following World War I, reflective people everywhere were considering how best to reorganize societies and nations. Serious students batted ideas back and forth in dormitory bull sessions At meetings of the Dialectic Literary Society, faithfully attended by Wolfe, debaters had long argued such questions as "That all labor disputes which have important concern to the public should be compulsorily settled in legally established courts of arbitration" and "That labor unions are beneficial to the general welfare of the people." At both the North State School in Asheville and the Di Society in Chapel Hill. Wolfe had been trained in the style of speaker and debater. The Crisis in Industry evinces his background of exposure to analyses of labor's problems as well as his experience in declamation. Wolfe's "thesis" contended that a crisis in industry had arisen because of a seemingly unresolvable conflict between capital and labor. To avoid "terrible civil strife." capital needed to recognize labor's "fundamental right" as a Prolegomena 3 contributor to the business of production. Labor was no insensate commodity, but possessed "an intelligent con- sciousness" demanding "its right to self-direction." Its use of the strike to force capital to recognize its rights would eventually lead to "class warfare," and even the destruc- tion of modern civilization. Wolfe's solution to the prob- lem turned "on the inherent willingness of men to listen to reason," the result of which would be an "industrial democracy, - a system of democratic co-operation in industry with equal rights and responsibilties for labor and capital." The only agency capable of quelling the obstinacy of both sides was government, which must "allow labor itself to determine its inner workings." Wolfe did not suggest how government would bring this about. The pro-labor bias throughout the essay reveals, not surprisingly, the social awareness of the eighteen-year-old. He thought of himself as a representative of working people. His mother kept a boarding house, and his father was a stonecutter. Perhaps he was shrewd enought to rely on his professor's sympathy for the simple man, the man who depends for his livelihood upon what he accomplishes with his hands. Certainly he knew of Horace Williams's distaste for scientists, economists, and bull-headed capital- ists. And certainly he knew how the philosopher admired a student's frank expression. Richard S. Kennedy (The Window of Memory, p. 54) thought the essay a "glimmer of the force that was to come." Indeed, The Crisis in Industry was well argued. Andrew Turnbull (Thomas Wolfe, p. 40) noted that Horace Williams said it was '"a great utterance,' and Wolfe felt big with prophecy." Maybe so, maybe so. But Wolfe would have won any- way. There is no evidence that competing students thought the honor was not fully deserved. OVC 1 *3 do* ' 300 numbered copies of this facsimile edition were printed at The Loom Press, Chapel Hill, in 1978. Ten additional copies were printed out of sequence for promotional use. This copy is No. 56