Dr. Carson is a frequent contributor to THE FREEMAN and other journals and the author of several books, his latest being The War on the Poor (Arlington House, 1969). He is Chairman of the Social Science Department at Okaloosa-Walton College in Florida.
If someone had set out with malice aforethought to destroy the effectiveness of the American railroads, he could hardly have devised better ways than those employed by the Federal government for much of the twentieth century—short of hiring wrecking crews to take up the track and dynamiters to blow up the rolling stock. Before World War I, the government subjected the railroads to increasingly debilitating restrictions: by trying to use force to make them compete, not permitting them to compete in many of the usual ways, making it difficult for them to cooperate and coordinate their activities, freezing the systems into their earlier patterns, prohibiting them to follow certain practices by which they could profit and serve consumers, prescribing uneconomic practices, driving investors away and, perhaps unintentionally, promoting the dissipation of working capital.
Having so circumscribed the railroads as to make it virtually impossible for them to adjust to new demands and changing conditions, the government took over and ran them during World War I. The railroads were technically returned to their owners after the war, but this was done in such a way that the death grip upon them was retained if not actually tightened. While the railroads were bound hand and foot, as it were, government subsidized and promoted alternative means of transport and facilitated the unionization of their employees against them.
Indeed, if railroad managements had been dangerous criminals with lengthy records of dastardly acts, they could hardly have been more carefully watched and had their activities more extensively limited and restrained. In fact, railroad men were treated as second class businessmen, as charlatans ready at every moment to cheat investors, as extortionists ready to take unfair advantage of customers, as conspirators eager to beset the public, and as brigands on the march to destroy American transport. From another angle, railroaders were treated as if they were truant children whose every activity must henceforth be minutely supervised and whose dealings must be subjected to the most searching scrutiny. In short, men who undertook to operate railroads were, in that capacity, virtual prisoners of their own government.
However, it would be an error to suppose that those directly connected with the operation of the railroads were the primary victims of these government policies. Railroad executives have no doubt generally enjoyed compensation and prestige similar to their counterparts in other industries. Supervisory personnel must have had good salaries over the years. Employees of railroads have usually received relatively high wages. Even stockholders have frequently received dividends and bondholders been paid off. The primary victims of government intervention in the operations of the railroads have been consumers—all of us—who have been denied the best goods at the lowest prices and passenger service of high quality at low prices which they might have otherwise had. It is probably impossible for governments to follow policies that will induce businessmen to serve without compensation, but it is easy to devise policies which result in losses to consumers. This has been the result of the government’s regulation of the railroads.
The Socialist Attack
Back of these policies was socialist doctrine, as was indicated in an earlier chapter, however revised and watered down that doctrine might be when it reached the popular mind. More than anyone else, it was socialists who conceived of businessmen as villains preying on the public for private gain. To them, private enterprise was irredeemably flawed by the selfish quest for gain. The railroads received the full brunt of the earliest socialist assault against private enterprise in America. It does not follow, of course, that all who favored regulating the railroads were socialists. Much of the animus for regulation can be accounted for by special interests wishing to use the railroads for their particular advantage. But socialism provided the ideological ammunition—the animosity toward private business, the notion that service should be divorced from profit, and the statist assumptions held by regulators—and the protective coloration for these special interests.
More important, socialism provided a direction and a goal for regulation. The ultimate professed goal of socialists was government control of the railroads and their use for the benefit of the people. Two means to this end have been set forth. One is the government ownership and operation of the railroads. This is the way of what are now sometimes called doctrinaire socialists. The other way is more subtle and indirect; it involves government control without ownership and entails a variety of means. This is the way of pragmatic socialists. They do not ordinarily refer to themselves as socialists at all in the United States; they prefer to be known as pragmatists, liberals, or some such euphemism. But from the direction of their thrust it can be determined that they are socialists, regardless of the name by which they are known.
Pressure Toward Government Ownership and Operation
Up to and through World War I the pressure of socialists was toward government ownership and operation of the railroads. This was true of several third parties which did not identify themselves as socialists as well as the various avowedly socialist parties. Herbert Croly, a "progressive" socialist, indicated how the goal might be achieved in what he wrote a few years before World War I:
In the existing condition of economic development and of public opinion, the man who believes in the ultimate necessity of government ownership of railroad road-beds and terminals must be content to wait and to watch. The most that he can do for the present is to use any opening which the course of railroad development affords, for the assertion of his ideas; and if he is right, he will gradually be able to work out, in relation to the economic situation of the railroads, some practical method of realizing the ultimate purpose.1
Regulation set the stage for a government takeover by making it increasingly difficult for the railroads to do their job effectively. World War I provided the crisis which was used as the occasion for government operation of the roads. A major propaganda effort was made during and immediately after World War I to make the takeover complete and permanent. This campaign did not succeed; it was thwarted by a Congress determined to return the railroads to their owners.
It turned out, however, that only doctrinaire socialism was rejected. American reformism had taken its own peculiar form. Instead of going from operating them to government ownership of the railroads, the government abandoned both of these and turned to full-fledged control. It was sufficient for the day that government have power, authority, and control over the railroads. Progressivism had prepared the way for this direction to be taken. Politically, such a direction is clearly superior to ownership and operation. When government owns and operates, bureaucrats must take on onerous duties and responsibilities; they must provide the services and get the money for operation. Control without ownership provides the bureaucrat with power over but little, if any, responsibility for rendering services. At any rate, this is what was established for the Interstate Commerce Commission in the 1920′s.
Regulated Out of Service
It was about as clear as such things can be that when World War I came the government restrictions made it virtually impossible for the railroads to provide the desired services. A railroad historian has recently observed that the "poor condition of the rail lines in 1917 was no doubt partly the result of earlier excessive or mistaken regulation…."2 Even the Interstate Commerce Commission’s recommendations at the time indicated an awareness of the debilitating impact of the restrictions. The Commission recommended that the government either take over and operate the railroads "or that all legal obstacles to the complete unification of the railways for that period be removed…."3
Once in power over them, the government reversed its former policies toward the railroads. What was sauce for the private enterprise goose definitely was not sauce for the government gander. William G. McAdoo, who was placed in charge of the railroads, proceeded to do all sorts of things that had been either prohibited or beyond the power of rail executives. Rail service was speedily coordinated; the railroads were treated as if they were a single system. Freight was routed the shortest way. The government discriminated vigorously among shippers, giving war goods preference. Passenger service for the general public was greatly curtailed. The railroads had for several years been denied any significant rate increase. "Under the Federal Control Act it was unnecessary to secure the approval of either state or federal regulatory bodies for changes in rates…." New rates could simply be proclaimed: thus, "the Administration announced, on May 25, 1918, a 25 per cent increase in freight rates effective a month later…."4 Of course, the government was free also of antitrust restrictions and could and did treat the railroads as a giant trust.
Even so, the railroads were in bad shape when they were returned to their owners in 1920. McAdoo and his successor had seen fit to accumulate a huge deficit rather than raise rates sufficiently to cover costs. "The official report of the Railroad Administration admitted that the total operating expenses (plus rentals paid to the individual railroad companies) exceeded total revenues for the twenty-six months of federal operation… by just over $900,000,000. And this figure does not include more than $200 million later paid to the railroads for under-maintenance during the war. This latter figure, however, amounted to only about one-third of what the railroads claimed they were due for under maintenance. The railroad owners were stuck with an inheritance of high wages to employees, excess equipment constructed for wartime purposes, and roads that had generally been run down.
The Transportation Act of 1920
Had the management of the railroads been left free to operate them as they saw fit, they might have been able to revive the roads. They were not. Instead, they were much more completely shackled than ever by the Transportation Act of 1920. This act should be considered the crowning piece and culmination of Progressive legislation. The agitation of the Progressives produced antitrust activity, a spate of legislation, several constitutional amendments, and heady intervention in foreign affairs. By the end of World War I, or before, it appeared to have lost its impetus. Americans were weary of reform and were registering their feelings at the polls. Even so, one more piece of Progressive legislation was pushed through, one which was typical of what Theodore Roosevelt had advocated as the Bull Moose candidate in 1912—that the government leave property ownership in private hands but subject the great industries to stiff regulation. Of course, Roosevelt supposed that the railroads were already so regulated, but the principle which he would have applied to all industry was carried to its logical conclusion in the Esch-Cummins Transportation Act.
Much early policy was reversed. The Interstate Commerce Act had prohibited pooling. The Transportation Act of 1920 authorized the Interstate Commerce Commission to approve pools if it could be shown that they were in the public interest. Antitrust legislation had been aimed at one corporation indirectly controlling others. The new act authorized the Commission, "upon application by any carrier or carriers and after hearing, to approve ‘the acquisition… by one of such carriers of the control of any other such carrier or carriers, either under a lease or by the purchase of stock or in any other manner not involving the consolidation of such carriers into a single system for ownership and operation,’ upon such a basis as may be found by that body to be just and reasonable."6
Planned Consolidation
The Act charged the Commission with the task of preparing and adopting "a plan for the consolidation of the railway properties of the continental United States into a limited number of systems. In the division of such railways into such systems under such plan, competition shall be preserved as fully as possible and wherever practicable the existing routes and channels of trade and commerce shall be maintained…." To make it possible for this to be accomplished, the act permitted the Commission to authorize consolidations of railroads into single corporations according to the master plan.7 Actually, the Commission have never put any such plan into effect. They are waiting, no doubt, until mathematicians square the circle before undertaking so forbidding a task as this.
No longer was it legal for anyone to build or extend a railroad at will. The act required that a prospective builder must first have a "certificate of convenience and necessity" from the Commission before beginning construction. Moreover, the law provides that "no carrier… shall abandon all or any portion of a line of railroad or the operation thereof unless and until there shall first have been obtained from the Commission a certificate that the present or future public convenience and necessity permit of such abandonment."
The restrictions on railroad finance were equally restrictive. Following a brief period of grace after the act went into effect, "no securities might be issued legally by any carrier subject to regulation except upon Commission approval." The act lays down the general principles upon which such approval may be granted. It notes that Commission approval does not in any way imply that the United States government guarantees such securities. The only securities a railroad might issue without Commission approval would be notes maturing within two years and even such borrowing was restricted to 5 per cent of the par value of outstanding securities.
Rate Control
The most amazing provisions of the Transportation Act of 1920, however, were probably those having to do with rates. The Commission was authorized to fix rates for roads under its authority according to how it grouped them from time to time. The rates were to be fixed so as to assure a fair return upon investment if the railroad were efficiently run. Initially, Congress declared that a fair return in most instances would be 51/2 per cent annually of the aggregate value of railway properties. Any railroad that earned more than 6 per cent on the aggregate value of its properties in a given year was to have one-half of the excess placed in a reserve fund for its own future use and the other one-half to be turned over to the Commission to place in a general contingency fund to aid ailing railroads. What was involved was a most complex limitation on earnings and a redistribution plan.
There were several other rate provisions of the act. The Interstate Commerce Commission was granted virtual pre-emptive authority over rates so far as state regulatory bodies were concerned. If it found that state regulations occasioned any prejudice or inconvenience to interstate commerce it could negate them. For the first time, also, the Commission was empowered to prescribe minimum as well as maximum rates. It could also prescribe the division of joint rates between or among two or more carriers if it found the prevailing division to be unjust. The long and short haul clause was altered so as to further limit the exemptions the Commission could grant from its provisions.
Routing and Service
The Commission was granted extensive powers over routing and service. A carrier found "improperly" diverting traffic from another line would be liable to the extent of paying the whole amount gained to the "injured" railroad. The Commission was authorized to divert traffic to other lines if, in its opinion, a road was unable to provide a service. Moreover, the Commission was empowered to determine what routes interchanged traffic should take. Should car shortages develop, the Commission could direct their disposition so as to relieve the difficulty without regard to the desires of the owners. The law provided that it should be the duty of every carrier "to furnish safe and adequate car service and to establish, observe, and enforce just and reasonable rules, regulations, and practices with respect to car service." Nor was the Commission to be particularly concerned about private ownership of terminals and surrounding trackage. If the Commission should find that it would be in the "public interest," "it shall have the power to require the joint or common use of terminals, including mainline track or tracks for a reasonable distance outside of those terminals…."9 The owners were to be paid something for such usage, of course.
Certain of these provisions have been altered over the years. The Emergency Railroad Transportation Act of 1933 attempted once again to effect consolidations of lines into larger and more stable systems. The attempt to prescribe earnings precisely had already been more or less abandoned. The Transportation Act of 1940 placed restrictions on competitive modes of transportation. But the government grip upon the railroads by way of the Interstate Commerce Commission has generally remained. That hold was authorized and established by the Transportation Act of 1920, and its provisions amply illustrate the extent of the grasp.
A state of organized irresponsibility was established by this legislation. The power to make managerial decisions of wide and determining scope was vested in the Interstate Commerce Commission. The responsibility for operating the railroads remained with private management. But that management was denied the authority to make on its own all sorts of decisions by which entrepreneurs ordinarily operate businesses efficiently and successfully. Rail executives could not, and cannot, buy, sell, build, abandon, or dispose of their facilities without Commission approval. They could not sell stock to raise new funds nor consolidate with other lines without the authorization of the ruling government body. In most of the usual ways, railroad managers could not compete with rail or other modes of transportation, could not compete in price, in supplying of certain kinds of service, or even, if the Commission so ruled, in the exclusive use of better located facilities.
No Room to Operate
Critics of railroad management have long claimed that those running the roads were cautious, unimaginative, disinclined to innovate, and lacking in vision. In view of the limitations under which they operate it would hardly be surprising if the charges were, in substance, true. Any new service innovation could be quite expensive to the railroad. It might not pay off, yet the road might be stuck with providing it indefinitely because the Commission decided that the "public interest" required it.
The crucial factor in explaining the "unimaginativeness" of rail management, however, is the tying of rate structures to earnings. When this is combined with government engendered inflation—that is, increase of the money supply—as it usually has been since 1920, it is easy to understand why managements have been reluctant to make daring innovations. Increases in money supply mean that prices in general must rise to offset the increase. Yet railroads have to observe a time lag before they can raise their prices, if it turns out that they are permitted to do so. To get the raise, they need to demonstrate that their earnings are insufficient under the present rate structure. The effect of this is that railroads can rarely expect to turn a good profit by extending services, but they can lose a great deal. In short, railroads cannot—under inflationary conditions—make much of a profit; they can, however, have horrendous losses.
Actually, however, rail executives have often been quite imaginative. They have even made interesting service and equipment innovations from time to time, but that is not what I want to point out here. Much of the managerial imagination has not been expended in finding ways to improve and expand service, as it normally would be. It has, instead, been devoted to finding ways for a railroad to survive and make a modest profit under the crushing burden of restrictions, to finding ways to circumvent the thrust of regulation, and to finding arguments and evidence to convince the Commission to permit some course of action.
Holding Against Disaster
Railroad men have fought a fifty-year-long holding action against disaster. Denied most of the avenues by which they might advance, they have husbanded their resources by strategic retreats. They have developed ingenious arguments supported by voluminous arbitrarily construed statistics for reducing services—for dropping passenger trains, for cutting off dining cars, for closing depots, for not installing warning systems, and so on. They have become, in effect, unbusinessmen, for rather than seeking to expand services, they have sought to reduce them; rather than increasing traffic, they have sometimes sought to reduce it; rather than reduce prices to increase the number of customers, they have often sought to raise prices and have thereby reduced customers and revenue.
These unbusinesslike actions make sense only in the framework of restrictions that has been erected. The reversal of priorities from expanding services through innovation to reducing services can be explained, and the explanation will show that it was about as good business as could be done. Denied much expectation of profits by new exertions, railroad men turned to making what profits they could by as little effort as possible. They sought to keep only that business which was most profitable, involved the least risky outlay of funds, and entailed the least amount of effort to acquire and service. They sought to use the rails where they were most clearly superior to other modes of transportation and to avoid competition where superiority was less certain.
Under such policies, the railroads ceased to be a growth industry. Indeed, they appear to be an industry dying of a lingering illness. One after another they have abandoned or had taken from them services that they once performed: the carrying of mails, the hauling of most packaged freight, much of the passenger service, and so on. Each time a railroad lops off or reduces service to an area it is apt to reduce the number of customers for even its profitable traffic. For example, when passenger service to a small community is discontinued, it reduces the likelihood that people traveling at however great distances will go by train when either their point of departure or destination is that city. Cut off enough such service and even long distance trains between great cities will not have enough passengers to warrant the provision of the service. The same principle will generally hold regarding any such service, and the railroad policies have undoubtedly produced the appearance of a dying industry. These policies, in turn, have been the result of desperate measures taken by railroad men caught in a stranglehold by the Interstate Commerce Commission.
Had this been all, the railroads might still have held their own. But there was more. They were faced by increasing competition from other modes of transportation. And while they were being circumscribed by onerous restrictions, governments were frequently aiding and abetting their competitors. That part of the story needs also to be told.
Next: The Grip of Privileged Competitors
—FOOTNOTES—
1 Herbert Croly, The Promise of American Life, Cushing Strout, intro. (New York: Capricorn Books, 1964), p. 377.
2 John F. Stover, The Life and Decline of the American Railroad (New York: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 175.
3 Sidney L. Miller, Inland Transportation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1933), p. 156.
4 Ibid., p. 163.
6 Miller, op. cit., p. 175.
7 All such authorized actions were specifically exempted from antitrust suits.
8 Miller, op. cit., p. 177.
9 Ibid., p. 182.