Women in Industry
Earl Barnes
[An edited reprint of Chapter VI of the book, Women
in Modern Society, published in 1912]
With settled conditions and accumulation of wealth, the most
desirable women were almost entirely freed from physical labor and
gradually became luxury-loving parasites and playthings, as we pointed
out in the second chapter of this volume. Meantime slaves were
multiplying, male and female and, while the most desirable women
passed to the harem, the mass of them became drudges in house and
field. It is hard for us to realize that it is exactly in those times
when a few women are surrounded with great luxury that most of the sex
are reduced to heavy labor and wretchedness.
During the early Christian ages, a tradition was gradually formed
concerning woman's place in industry, or rather three traditions were
formed. The working woman of the lower classes was to be the
housekeeper, which meant that she was to care for food, cook, spin,
weave, sew and mend, scrub and wash, bear children and nurse and tend
them. If she were of the middle class, she was to be a mother, to
supervise this range of work, look after dependents, conserve social
conditions and be the lady bountiful of her district. The second ideal
was the woman of religion, who was to subdue her passions, observe set
prayers and other religious exercises, and do the menial work of the
convent. The third ideal was the lady of chivalry, who appeared after
the tenth century. She was to be cared for and protected from work or
anxiety; menials were to prepare her food, clothes and ornaments;
gallants were to await her orders and do her bidding.
With the rise of Protestantism, and later with the rise of modern
democracy, these ideals were blended, and women found themselves, not
indeed slaves and subject to sale, but serfs, entangled in a mass of
feudal obligations and bound to the house. Practically, most men still
hold this threefold conception of woman's place in the social
organism. She is to be a combination of housekeeper, nun and lady. It
is the kitchen, church and children ideal of the German Emperor.
Meantime forces were set at work which were to change the economic
foundations of the family and enable the woman to emerge from serfdom
into some new form of industrial relationship. From the rise of the
European cities in the twelfth century, certain industries have
tended, especially in the Netherlands and in England, to segregate
themselves in farm-houses and towns. Women naturally participated in
these activities, generally taking the least desirable parts. With the
freeing of the mind, which followed the democratic revolutions at the
end of the eighteenth century, inventions blossomed out and perfected
steam engines, cotton gins, spinning jennies, and a thousand other
machines driven by steam or water power, which have changed the
civilization of Europe and America.
Spinning and weaving industries led the way in this movement, but its
full force was not felt until the late eighteenth century. Since then,
one industry after another has left the home for the factory until
to-day, in all large communities, even the preparation of food
increasingly goes to the packing-house, the canning establishment, the
bakery and the delicatessen-store. These industries needed hands, and
so the women followed them to the factories.
As 1870 marks the beginning of higher education for women, so it also
marks the beginning of her industrial self-consciousness. The
perfecting of such inventions as the typewriter, the telegraph and the
telephone, and the creation of a great variety of office appliances,
together with the perfecting of highly elaborate means of
distribution, like the departmental store, called for thousands of
cheap workers possessed of some slight intelligence but not
necessarily having any serious preliminary training. Our elementary
schools and high schools have increasingly turned out a multitude of
girls who could meet these requirements. The increased cost of living,
the lessened labor demands of the home, and the attractions of the pay
envelope, have called millions to work in industrial plants.
Like most other great changes in civilization, this industrial
transformation was neither preceded nor accompanied by any general
consciousness of what was happening. Daily necessities were offset by
weekly pay envelopes, or the failures fell out of sight, and so the
next week and the years followed. Country populations moved away;
cities grew enormously, leading to congestion in living which,
combined with the daily absence of women, has often transformed the
old time homes into communal tiers of tenements occupied, during
working hours, only by the young and the infirm.
The children of all ages after a while followed their mothers into
the factories; but the evil effects of child labor were so apparent
that repressive legislative measures have increasingly raised the age
of their admission until now, in the more advanced communities, they
must stay outside the factory doors until they are twelve or fourteen
years old. Some growing self-consciousness, largely of a police
nature, has led us to institute measures for the protection of the
children who are not allowed to work. Schools, playgrounds, day
nurseries, institutional churches, college settlements and public
social centers now bid against the streets and vacant lots, the nickel
shows and the dancing halls, for the children's patronage.
Education, however, true to its origin as the assistant of theology,
refuses to recognize in any large way the new world into which we have
come, and where the next generation of children must follow. Manual
training has, here and there, quieted the fears of some who had
disturbing visions; and we go on employing an army of unenfranchised,
celibate women, with little or no industrial experience, to teach ten
million boys how to be good citizens of a republic, and how to serve
in a modern industrial army; and ten million girls how to work in
shops and factories, and how to live without homes. As a consequence,
girls come up to the factories from their schools with ideals, so far
as the school has shaped them, founded on unmarried school mistresses
and George Washington; and they pass, by way of the altar, into
cheerless tenements which the school still thinks of as places where
children are cared for, family clothing is made and the family baking
is done. Practically, of course, most education is given outside the
schools, and there the evils of an unregulated time of transition are
multiplied through imitation.
The wealth and material comfort produced for the fortunate classes by
these segregated industries have blinded us to their effects on human
life, and we have all been bribed to silence concerning everything
which could discourage enterprise or frighten capital. Like most
bribes, however, these have largely stopped in the pockets of the
exploiters of public opinion.
In the opening years of this new century, public consciousness has
had a wonderful awakening. The popular mind, quickened by universal
education, and freed from a burden of fixed beliefs, is turning
restlessly to inquire about everything that affects human life. Work
could not escape this inquisition, and so we are asking not only for a
fairer division of the profits of work, but we are also inquiring what
occupations are unfit for women, with their special limitations and
obligations. When the work is reasonable, how long should a woman work
daily? Should she work at night and overtime? Should she work with
dangerous machinery? Should she handle substances that endanger
health? Should she be required to stand through hours of continuous
work? Should she work in bad air, due to dust, moisture, or excessive
heat or cold? Should she have a decent retiring-room? Some daring
inquirers are even asking whether industrial efficiency, gained
through specialization and keying up, may not be purchased at too high
a price of mental monotony and nervous strain. Most people are content
to learn that the effects are not immediately destructive to the girls
and women involved; but some day we shall demand that the barons of
industry shall not be allowed to squander the heritage of the unborn
generations.
Women have themselves done much to quicken this public consciousness.
Enrolled in labor unions, they have shown power to stand together and
make sacrifice, as in the shirt-waist makers' strike in New York in
1908, which commanded the admiration of all fair-minded observers. The
more fortunately placed women have aided these movements toward
self-betterment; and, through such organizations as the National
Consumers' League, they have compelled manufacturers and shopkeepers
to observe more reasonable hours, pay better wages, and furnish decent
material conditions for their employees.
The solution of woman's present industrial problem is not an easy
task, but out of the present unsettlement certain facts are emerging
with a good deal of clearness. The efficiency in production, secured
by concentration and specialization, make it certain that the old-time
home with its multiplied industries will not return, but that more and
more even of its present lessened activities will be transferred to
factories and to their equivalents. It is also certain that women are
not going to be supported in indolence by men, because when deprived
of the discipline which full participation in life gives, they must
always degenerate. For themselves, and for the sake of their children,
they will demand a chance to live abundantly. It is also clear that
our present chaotic conditions are destructive of health, happy
marriages, effective homes, and the strong line of descendants which
must always be the chief care of an intelligent society.
In the first place, then, we must work to produce an entire change in
our present mental attitude toward organized industries. Our present
worship of industrial products, no matter how obtained, must give way
to a recognition of the fact that the chief asset of a nation is its
people; that a woman is more important than the clothes she makes in
factories or sells in stores; and that to needlessly destroy or
scrapheap a working woman is worse than to needlessly destroy or
scrapheap the finest and most costly machine ever devised by man. Such
a statement seems to carry conviction in its every phrase, but the
fact is that we do not believe it, and until we do believe it, there
will be little help for our present absurd and wretched conditions.
Unregulated competition, backed by greed of individuals and groups,
will go on wasting the wealth of women's lives until we cease to be
fascinated and hypnotized by the display of products which they make
possible. Better fine women and children, and few things, than stores
and warehouses crowded with goods, and the women and children of our
present factory towns. By fixing our attention on people instead of
things, we should almost certainly secure more and better things; but,
regardless of cost, we must change the focus of our attention.
In the second place, girls must get ready to be women. The education
of the home and the school must be unified, and together they must
give a training that will lead girls into the actualities of the life
that lies before them. Our present elementary schools, and still more
our high schools, lead girls neither to intelligent work nor to
intelligent living as women and mothers. Up to at least the age of
fourteen, the education should be general, looking to the development
of all the powers of body, mind and sensibilities. But through all
these eight or ten years of training, two factors should receive
constant and intelligent attention. In the first place, we should
realize that we are not fitting women for drawing-rooms nor for
convents, but for a working world; therefore well graded and
interesting manual training should run through all these years and
should furnish a well-developed base for later special industrial
preparation of some kind. In the second place, the girls should be
taught by men and women, married and unmarried, and fine ideals of
actual womanhood, not alone in shops and factories, in school-rooms,
and in professions-but also in homes, should be constantly held before
them. Our present education leaves this training mainly to the homes,
and neither the parasitic rich nor our eight million wage-earning
women, when mothers, can or will attend to it.
After the girl reaches the age of fourteen, she should have at least
two years of further education in which she could master the details
of some necessary work which would enable her to look the world in the
face and offer fair payment for her living. With most girls, this work
would be connected with children and the service of the home; for
domestic service, no matter how organized, must always occupy a
multitude of women. All girls should have at least rudimentary
training in these matters.
During the period of transition from schools to their own family
life, the girls might well give a half dozen years to work in
factories and stores where the conditions should be as good, and as
well guarded, as in our best school buildings-in factories, in a word,
where the employers would be willing that their own daughters should
work. This is surely a fair standard. Work which is not safe or fit
for me to do, is not fit for me to hire done. If this principle fails,
then democracy is but a dream.
But during all this period of preparation we should never forget
that, as Madame Gnauck-Kühne so admirably points out, "women's
work has to a large extent an episodic character." All women
confront romantic love, marriage and children; and any woman who
misses them misses the crowning joy and glory of her life. Vicarious
realization may save the soul, but it can never fill the place of
reality. The man fronts these same experiences, but they are not
related to his work as they are related to the work of women. Surely
there can be no doubt that the ideal solution, in this period, is a
man and woman so deeply bound together by love that there is no
question of self-protection, either in terms of work or money; and the
man being freed from the burdens of maternity, should mainly earn the
income. We shall discuss the new type of home and family in a later
chapter, but in any home where there are children there is need of an
intelligent mother's very constant care.
If a happy home were the universal destiny of women, our problem
would be greatly simplified; but this is far from being the case. Not
more than one-half of all women over fifteen are married at any one
moment. From the ages of twenty to thirty-five, one-half are married;
but it is only from thirty-five to fifty-five that as many as
three-fourths are married; over fifty-five there are less than
one-half married, and most of the others are widows. Most of these
women who are not married must work outside the home, and no girl,
rich or poor, should be allowed to reach maturity without being
prepared to face this possibility. Work is not a curse but a blessing;
it is an indispensable part of every well-ordered life; and without
it, the individual and the group will certainly degenerate. Rich and
foolish parents, who cannot realize this basal fact, should
nevertheless see that, even as insurance, their daughters must be able
to pay their way in life, if need comes, without selling themselves
either in marriage or out. Even if the woman marries happily, she is
never sure that she may not some day have to face self-support, and
possibly for more mouths than her own.
But the woman who marries during her adolescent period, between the
ages of twenty-five and fifty, must also work, and here we meet the
hardest problem of all. More money is often needed than the man can
earn; the wife may bring an industrial or professional equipment which
is too valuable to discard; often the demands of the home, especially
where there are no children, do not call forth the best energies of
the woman, and she needs the larger life of outside work. Hence many
married women must continue to work away from the home. In any of
these cases, the problem is difficult. Bearing and rearing a child
should retire a mother from fixed outside occupation for at least a
year. Arguments born out of conflict cannot change this primitive
fact. Women should not do shop or factory work during the last months
of pregnancy, and babies should be nursed from seven to nine months. A
baby should be nursed for twenty minutes, every two or three hours of
its waking time; and since it does not always waken regularly, the
nursing mother is debarred from most continuous work, even if it does
not interfere with her effectiveness as a milk producer.
A few years ago, we turned to sanitary day nurseries, and to
pasteurized milk and other prepared baby foods, as the solution for
neglected or unhygienic feeding. To-day we know that even a dirty and
ill-conditioned mother secretes better milk for her baby than can be
prepared in any laboratory. We must wash the mother and feed her the
milk, and then let her give it to her baby, instinct with her own
life. It is quite possible that our recent talk of ignorant mother
love and of the necessary substitution of sanitary nurseries, canned
care and pre-digested affection must all go the same way. We shall
probably get our best results by cleaning up the home, enlightening
the mother, and then letting her love her child into the full
possession of its human qualities.
Economically, too, at least with factory workers, it is questionable
if their wages will support sanitary day-nurseries, with intelligent
nurses for small groups of children, and at the same time pay some one
to cook and scrub at home. If the mother must still cook and care for
her house, in addition to her factory work, the burden is too great;
and if money for nurses must come from the state, or from charity,
then we all know the danger of such subsidies to industry, in its
effect on wages.
Surely the ideal toward which we must work is for the mother, during
the period when she is bearing and rearing children, to be supported
by the father of her children. Let her do the work meantime which will
best care for her children, and at the same time conserve and
strengthen her powers for the third period of her life.
This period, from fifty to seventy-five years, is now more shamefully
wasted than any other of our national resources. If one attends a
State federation of women's clubs one will find nearly every delegate
of this age. They are women of mature understanding and of ripe
judgment, still possessing abundant health and strength, and where
relieved by economic conditions from the necessity of manual work,
they have to live such irregular and uncertain relations to life as
can be maintained by mothers-in-law, grandmothers, club secretaries,
and presidents of town improvement societies. Remove all restrictions
on woman's activity, and these strong matrons would vitalize our
schools, give us decent municipal housekeeping, supervise the
conditions under which girls and women work in shops and factories,
and do much to clean up our politics. Debarred from direct power as
they are, they are still making us decent in spite of ourselves.
For the future, then, it seems that we must accept working women in
every path of life. We must remove all disabilities under which they
labor, and at the same time protect them by special legislation as
future wives and mothers. All girls must master some line of
self-supporting work; and, except in the cases of those who have very
special tastes and gifts, they should select work which can be
interrupted, without too great loss, by some years of motherhood.
During this time, the mother must be supported so that she can largely
care for her own child, though she must also maintain outside
interests through work, which will keep her in touch with the moving
current of her time. Industries must be humanized and made fit for
women. The last third of a woman's life must be freed from legal
limitations and popular prejudices, so that we may secure these best
years of her life for private and public service. And meantime, it is
well to remember that every step we take in making this a fit world
for woman to work in, makes it a fit world for her father, her
brothers, her lover and her husband to work beside her.
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