While democracy as a form of government spells ruin, democracy in society spells America in her best estate. The possibility of industrial republics is suggested.

While talking about democracy in government we seem to have lost our conception of democracy in society. What better can we expect from democracy in government than France’s experience, when the voice of the people was declared to be the voice of God? But social democracy is a very different thing from a democratic form of government, and has well nigh become a lost blessing.

When the socialist talks about “Industrial Democracy” he means a democratic form of government, with all industries under popular management. That is one extreme. The capitalist demands industrial autocracy. That is the other extreme.

In a previous chapter I have tried to show that when the Fathers formed this government, their experiences, as well as their knowledge of history led them to fear the monarch. The French Revolution was about to burst into what its promoters promised should be the purest form of democracy which the world had ever seen, and the Fathers were justly apprehensive. Dreading the mass quite as much as they feared the monarch, they chose the middle course. They chose representative government.

I wonder if there be a middle course between industrial autocracy and industrial democracy. Is it possible for business concerns and manufacturing plants to create within their organizations industrial republics where each employee shall have some actual voice, and through their representatives sitting in deliberative bodies, analogous to our legislative branch, originate and recommend or approve reforms and improvements subject, of course, to a veto by a cabinet?

Many methods of profit sharing have been tried and they have usually worked advantageously, but admittedly they fall far short of the requirements. So-called cooperative industrial concerns have been created with some measure of success, yet the real problem remains untouched and as complex as ever. Labor has never established a cooperative industry worthy of the name, except as Mallock shows in “The Limits of Pure Democracy,”^[3] when the actual operation of the concern has been placed in the hands of an oligarch whose administration is as arbitrary as that of any captain of industry. Only in that way has it been possible to supply management, the most essential element, as we have seen, in any enterprise. Labor has sometimes found the capital, but capital and labor without management are impotent. A goodly number of corporations have encouraged and even assisted their workmen to buy stock, which is a very good and meritorious policy. It may tend to alleviate but it fails to cure.

Mallock clearly shows that every successful government unites the elements of autocracy and democracy. Even the Imperial German Government granted certain powers to the people, while the Constitution of the United States clothes the president with powers in certain respects rivaling those of the kaiser. The power of veto which the Constitution vests in the president exceeds any prerogative possessed by the king of England. On the other hand the power to make war rests with Congress, while in Great Britain it requires no parliamentary act. Mallock enlarges upon this thought and shows that socialist organizations and labor unions are successful only because they are arbitrarily managed. Their so-called leaders are, in fact, oligarchs. The Russian Revolution, like the French Revolution, was avowedly of democratic origin, but in fact both were as despotic as anything the world has ever seen. The strength and grandeur of the government of the United States, as established by the Constitution, lies in the most happy combination and blending of these two fundamental principles, popular sovereignty and centralized strength.

The primary difficulty in solving the so-called labor question lies, I think, in failing to recognize the individuality—the personality of the employee. Some tiny share of profits is offered in lieu of increased wages and it is accepted as a mere sop. The offer of stock at a price below the market, with easy payments, is looked upon as a cheap way of tying the hands of the employee, and as an insurance against strikes. I think I am safe in saying that in a very large majority of cases where any of these methods have been tried the men have resented them, and in some instances spurned them. Then the employer concludes that labor will not accept decent treatment, closes his ears, his mouth and his heart and proceeds to get all he can and to give as little as can possibly be forced out of him.

If the basis of masculine happiness is, as I have tried to show, the divinely implanted desire for creatorship, sovereignty and achievement, then we will find it impossible to satisfy the subconscious longings of the human heart with shorter hours, increased wages, or with some slight share of profits in lieu of increased wages. If I am right in my analysis the pathway of access to the real man in the overalls—and a real man is in the overalls and must be discovered—is by some scheme that will necessarily recognize him as a real, thinking and potential entity.

Most humans prefer to be called “citizens” rather than “subjects.” Autocrats speak of their subjects. In republics there are no subjects. All are fellow citizens. If this thought can be carried into the industrial world, the “citizens” therein will find their heart hunger appeased, their hope inspired and they will lift their heads into the clearer atmosphere of industrial opportunity, and possibility of ultimate social recognition. If the theory of evolution has any foundation in fact the species began to lift its head with the first impulse of hope, and its whole body stood erect when the consciousness dawned of being human. A free, brave and hopeful people never went mad. Desperation and failure of recognition is the parent of revolution. Most anyone will fight when called “it.”

Pardon a little personal observation which has direct bearing upon increased efficiency resulting from no other cause than recognition and hope. Forty years ago immigrants from both Germany and Sweden came from Castle Garden to my town every few days. They had been born “subjects” and they toiled after their arrival as they had toiled before as “subjects.” They moved with the air of “subjects.” In my imagination I can see those German families coming up the middle of the street in wooden shoes, single file, the man ahead empty handed except his long pipe, the wife close behind with a baby in her arm, and a big bundle on her head, and the children in regular succession according to age, which seldom varied more than two years. There must have been some hope in the man’s heart or he would not have left his native country. But neither his gait nor his other movements betrayed it. These immigrants immediately sought and secured employment, but they were not worth much the first month or so. It did not take long, however, until it would dawn upon them that opportunity had actually knocked at their door. A few Sunday afternoons on the porch of friends who had left the Fatherland as poor as they, and who were now comfortably situated, plus a wage scale of which hitherto they had only been told, transformed those big fellows. I am not exaggerating when I say they would do without urging from fifty to one hundred percent more work six months, and often six weeks, after their arrival than when they came. They had begun “building castles in Spain.” They were dreaming dreams and the central figure in every vision was a home of their own, and personal recognition. Instead of being subjects they had determined to become citizens.

Can this transformation still be wrought? If it can all danger is past. Of one thing I am certain. It cannot be done by legislation.