Confessions of a Railroad Signalman/Chapter 2
II
THE MEN
Money, brains, and intelligent labor form the combination that is attempting to solve the problem of safe and expeditious transportation on American railroads. In order to secure the desired result no expenditure, either of effort or of treasure, is considered too extravagant. So far as concerns speed and comfort, the conditions at the present day leave little to be asked for; but when we come to take account of the human lives that have paid toll to American systems of railroading, we cannot avoid the conclusion that something must be fundamentally wrong in the methods of handling the traffic.
To account for the unsatisfactory state of affairs, there are various popular excuses and explanations. Discussions in regard to block signals, tired employees, faulty rules, and so forth, are seemingly as endless as, up to date, they have proved fruitless. For the most part these discussions are being carried on by professors and students of economic conditions and by clever collectors of statistics, but the men who know all the details of railroad life, the men who pull the signals and handle the trains
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| A HEAD-ON COLLISION |
However, regardless of the nature or value of the discussion, the fact remains that we railroad men still continue in the same blind rut, and there is no perceptible improvement in efficiency. Managers and superintendents appear to be helpless in the matter. They are evidently unable to stem the tide of preventable casualties.
The story of one accident is the story of them all. There is a smash-up. Property is destroyed, perhaps passengers are hurt. The superintendent at once starts an investigation. It is practically secret. Not a word in regard to it is allowed to leak out. After a while a decision is arrived at and a verdict is rendered,—in secret. Then discipline is administered. A private communication containing verdict and penalty is sent to the accused party. This, of course, he keeps to himself, and the incident is closed.
But before long another employee, in utter ignorance of the first man’s blunder, commits the same mistake. Both of these wrecks may have been serious, perhaps with loss of life, but that makes no difference. Our traditions and ancient habits have not been interfered with and the bills have been paid. Such is discipline in the dark. Great, indeed, is secrecy.
Yet it is useless to question either the ability or the integrity of superintendents. As a rule they have risen from the ranks, and are thoroughly capable and conscientious. Every avoidable accident is a reflection on their management, and therefore it can be taken for granted that they render the best service possible under the circumstances. But unfortunately they are beset on all sides with obstacles and difficulties. What they would like to do, even in the matter of secrecy and discipline, must frequently wait upon what they are able to do. Time was when an offending employee could be discharged on the spot, without appeal. To-day he claims a hearing. A brother employee, an expert on railroad law and precedent, stands at his elbow as prompter and assistant. In this way, as we railroad men figure it out, the “law’s delay” puts a curb on the “insolence of office.” Thus the initiative of a superintendent is held in restraint, and management by means of schedules and agreements takes the place of personal direction, while over all hovers the watchful eye of the grievance committee. Meanwhile, we, the employees, look on, watching the game.
When people are killed, when property is wrecked, we have nothing to say. It is for the management to figure out reasons and remedies. Of course, as individuals, we are interested and sorry when accidents happen, but personally we do not bestir ourselves, nor do we call upon our organizations to bestir themselves in the matter. We simply stand pat on our rights. If a prominent railroad man is questioned on the subject of railroad accidents, he will shrug his shoulders and say, “Human nature.” So far as he is concerned, railroad men are to be protected, not criticised. If you turn to the management your errand will be equally fruitless. The superintendent will have little to say. Generally speaking, he has no fault to find with the men, and the men have little fault to find with him. This seems to be a tacit understanding in the interests of harmony. It being impossible to move without treading on somebody’s toes, by all means let us remain motionless. As for the public interests, they must shift for themselves. Consequently, in place of earnest coöperation in the interests of efficiency and improved service, there is something in the nature of a friendly deadlock between men and management.
Nevertheless, in spite of many appearances to the contrary, the problem of the efficient and safe running of trains is a very simple one. Fundamentally it is not a question of rules or safety devices, but of personal conduct and habits of thought.
In everyday life when a man fails to make a satisfactory score with a first-class gun we do not place the blame on the weapon. If we desire greater efficiency in marksmanship we direct our attention to the man. But in the railroad business such commonplace logic does not seem to apply. When a man violates an unmistakable rule or runs a signal with disastrous results, there immediately arises on all sides a peremptory demand for a different kind of rule or an improved signal. Public opinion, with little understanding of the issues at stake, has a constant tendency to blame systems and managements. Even the Railroad Commissioners, agreeing with or responsive to this public sentiment, almost invariably recommend improvements along these lines. In this way for many years attention has been concentrated upon the machinery of management, its rules and safety appliances, and the personality of the men has been side-tracked. The injurious effects of this policy and the manner in which all hands have conspired to obliterate personality from the railroad business will be evident from the following illustration.
A short time ago, in the vicinity of Boston, an express train telescoped an accommodation passenger train. The track in question was protected by no less than four cautionary rules and signals. In this way the express train received four distinct and emphatic intimations that a train was on the block ahead of it. With the slightest attention to the rules or to the dictates of common sense, the protection was sufficient, yet the train ahead was telescoped as it was pulling out of a station. Of course, in placing the responsibility, the plain and real issue in this case was the question whether the express train was or was not running slowly and with extreme caution, as called for by the rules. In order to determine whether the rules and signals were sufficient to prevent a collision, it was surely proper and reasonable to ascertain whether, on this occasion, they were obeyed. But the Railroad Commissioners, after an exhaustive investigation, took a different view of the matter. Their finding or verdict in their own words was as follows:—
“It is not necessary to determine whether the engineman did or did not exercise proper caution; the significant fact is that the discretion actually used led to disastrous results. Under the conditions the signal should have been red.”
The harmfulness of this decision will at once be apparent. It cuts the personality out of the business at points where obedience to the rules is the vital issue. Green signals or red signals are equally valueless if ducks and drakes can be played with the rules in regard to them. A decision like this one is confusing and demoralizing to conscientious railroad men, and it converts the management and discipline of a railroad into a thing of shreds and patches.
To emphasize this point, it should be added that another collision of a similar nature took place about the same time on the same railroad. An express passenger train approached a fixed signal which indicated caution. The engineman, on the lookout, but with the caution up his sleeve, kept on his way without any reduction in speed. A moment later he encountered a red fusee which called for an absolute stop, but it was too late. Neither the fusee nor the flagman frantically waving his red flag availed to arrest the momentum of the flyer, which dashed into the rear of another passenger train standing at a station.
Now, with all deference to the Railroad Commissioners, the “significant facts” in these accidents are the personal conduct of the employees and not the nature of the signals or the wording of the rules.
Of course, taking a wider view of preventable accidents, it is always an easy matter to divide the responsibility for them between the men and the management. This is the usual and popular method of treating the subject. But the idea, reasonable at times, has been overworked, and has now degenerated into a principle that responsibility should always be divided. Consequently, while we are busy adjusting the division, we frequently lose sight of the real issues, and the offenders are allowed to escape.
Fundamentally, then, it must be confessed, we railroad men are to blame for these preventable accidents. Most of the trouble can be directly traced to our own personal behavior, that is to say, to our conduct and habits of thought as railroad men. This is by no means a reflection on our character as sympathetic and reasonable human beings. Our intentions are all right, but our training in the railroad business has been all wrong.
But it is of little use to talk or write about personality in the abstract. As practical men dealing with a practical topic, we must follow the railroad man out on the road, we must watch him at his work, and we must take notice of the common sense, the caution, and the good judgment or otherwise, which he habitually displays in the execution of his duties. Then, and not until then, can we expect to become qualified to place our opinions or conclusions on record.
Now the regulations relating to the running and protection of trains are very similar on all railroads, and therefore the following rule taken from one of our current working time-tables may be looked upon as thoroughly representative.
“A freight train must not leave a station to follow a passenger train until five minutes after the departure of said passenger train.”
To any ordinary thinker this rule will appear to be plain, positive, and for the most part necessary. Yet as a matter of fact no attention whatever is paid to it either by enginemen, by conductors, or for that matter by superintendents. Its violation has been the cause of collisions and loss of life, but that does not seem to bother us, for we continue to disregard it. Let us take another illustration.
At the point where the writer has been employed for many years, there is a junction of four-track and two-track systems. The rule for the handling of trains at this point is as follows:—
“All trains will approach and enter upon four-track sections under complete control.”
There is nothing misleading or uncertain about this rule. The instructions to enginemen are positive. The towermen at these points understand how necessary and important this rule is. Besides, it is the written result of the experience of the officials. Nevertheless, it is totally and consistently ignored by enginemen. But enginemen are not alone to blame. Conductors should at least be conversant with the rules. The railroad officials who ride on these trains might also very reasonably be expected to notice the persistent violation of regulations for which they themselves are responsible. Yet even the trains bearing the Railroad Commissioners will rush over the territory in question as fast as the wheels can turn. The conditions and the rules in this case are practically the same as were those at Salisbury, England, at the time of the recent disaster in that city.
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.