My Life and Work
business could be expected to be able to charge into its product a great
big bond interest and then sell the product at a fair price. I have
never been able to see that.
I have never been able to understand on what theory the original
investment of money can be charged against a business. Those men in
business who call themselves financiers say that money is "worth" 6 per
cent, or 5 per cent, or some other per cent, and that if a business has
one hundred thousand dollars invested in it, the man who made the
investment is entitled to charge an interest payment on the money,
because, if instead of putting that money into the business he had put
it into a savings bank or into certain securities, he could have a
certain fixed return. Therefore they say that a proper charge against
the operating expenses of a business is the interest on this money. This
idea is at the root of many business failures and most service failures.
Money is not worth a particular amount. As money it is not worth
anything, for it will do nothing of itself. The only use of money is to
buy tools to work with or the product of tools. Therefore money is worth
what it will help you to produce or buy and no more. If a man thinks
that his money will earn 5 per cent, or 6 per cent, he ought to place it
where he can get that return, but money placed in a business is not a
charge on the business--or, rather, should not be. It ceases to be money
and becomes, or should become, an engine of production, and it is
therefore worth what it produces--and not a fixed sum according to some
scale that has no bearing upon the particular business in which the
money has been placed. Any return should come after it has produced, not
before.
Business men believed that you could do anything by "financing" it. If
it did not go through on the first financing then the idea was to
"refinance." The process of "refinancing" was simply the game of sending
good money after bad. In the majority of cases the need of refinancing
arises from bad management, and the effect of refinancing is simply to
pay the poor managers to keep up their bad management a little longer.
It is merely a postponement of the day of judgment. This makeshift of
refinancing is a device of speculative financiers. Their money is no
good to them unless they can connect it up with a place where real work
is being done, and that they cannot do unless, somehow, that place is
poorly managed. Thus, the speculative financiers delude themselves that
they are putting their money out to use. They are not; they are putting
it out to waste.
I determined absolutely that never would I join a company in which
finance came before the work or in which bankers or financiers had a
part. And further that, if there were no way to get started in the kind
of business that I thought could be managed in the interest of the
public, then I simply would not get started at all. For my own short
experience, together with what I saw going on around me, was quite
enough proof that business as a mere money-making game was not worth
giving much thought to and was distinctly no place for a man who wanted
to accomplish anything. Also it did not seem to me to be the way to make
money. I have yet to have it demonstrated that it is the way. For the
only foundation of real business is service.
A manufacturer is not through with his customer when a sale is
completed. He has then only started with his customer. In the case of an
automobile the sale of the machine is only something in the nature of an
introduction. If the machine does not give service, then it is better
for the manufacturer if he never had the introduction, for he will have
the worst of all advertisements--a dissatisfied customer. There was
something more than a tendency in the early days of the automobile to
regard the selling of a machine as the real accomplishment and that
thereafter it did not matter what happened to the buyer. That is the
shortsighted salesman-on-commission attitude. If a salesman is paid only
for what he sells, it is not to be expected that he is going to exert
any great effort on a customer out of whom no more commission is to be
made. And it is right on this point that we later made the largest
selling argument for the Ford. The price and the quality of the car
would undoubtedly have made a market, and a large market. We went beyond
that. A man who bought one of our cars was in my opinion entitled to
continuous use of that car, and therefore if he had a breakdown of any
kind it was our duty to see that his machine was put into shape again at
the earliest possible moment. In the success of the Ford car the early
provision of service was an outstanding element. Most of the expensive
cars of that period were ill provided with service stations. If your car
broke down you had to depend on the local repair man--when you were
entitled to depend upon the manufacturer. If the local repair man were a
forehanded sort of a person, keeping on hand a good stock of parts
(although on many of the cars the parts were not interchangeable), the
owner was lucky. But if the repair man were a shiftless person, with an
adequate knowledge of automobiles and an inordinate desire to make a
good thing out of every car that came into his place for repairs, then
even a slight breakdown meant weeks of laying up and a whopping big
repair bill that had to be paid before the car could be taken away. The
repair men were for a time the largest menace to the automobile
industry. Even as late as 1910 and 1911 the owner of an automobile was
regarded as essentially a rich man whose money ought to be taken away
from him. We met that situation squarely and at the very beginning. We
would not have our distribution blocked by stupid, greedy men.
That is getting some years ahead of the story, but it is control by
finance that breaks up service because it looks to the immediate dollar.
If the first consideration is to earn a certain amount of money, then,
unless by some stroke of luck matters are going especially well and
there is a surplus over for service so that the operating men may have a
chance, future business has to be sacrificed for the dollar of to-day.
And also I noticed a tendency among many men in business to feel that
their lot was hard--they worked against a day when they might retire and
live on an income--get out of the strife. Life to them was a battle to
be ended as soon as possible. That was another point I could not
understand, for as I reasoned, life is not a battle except with our own
tendency to sag with the downpull of "getting settled." If to petrify is
success all one has to do is to humour the lazy side of the mind but if
to grow is success, then one must wake up anew every morning and keep
awake all day. I saw great businesses become but the ghost of a name
because someone thought they could be managed just as they were always
managed, and though the management may have been most excellent in its
day, its excellence consisted in its alertness to its day, and not in
slavish following of its yesterdays. Life, as I see it, is not a
location, but a journey. Even the man who most feels himself "settled"
is not settled--he is probably sagging back. Everything is in flux, and
was meant to be. Life flows. We may live at the same number of the
street, but it is never the same man who lives there.
And out of the delusion that life is a battle that may be lost by a
false move grows, I have noticed, a great love for regularity. Men fall
into the half-alive habit. Seldom does the cobbler take up with the
new-fangled way of soling shoes, and seldom does the artisan willingly
take up with new methods in his trade. Habit conduces to a certain
inertia, and any disturbance of it affects the mind like trouble. It
will be recalled that when a study was made of shop methods, so that the
workmen might be taught to produce with less useless motion and fatigue,
it was most opposed by the workmen themselves. Though they suspected
that it was simply a game to get more out of them, what most irked them
was that it interfered with the well-worn grooves in which they had
become accustomed to move. Business men go down with their businesses
because they like the old way so well they cannot bring themselves to
change. One sees them all about--men who do not know that yesterday is
past, and who woke up this morning with their last year's ideas. It
could almost be written down as a formula that when a man begins to
think that he has at last found his method he had better begin a most
searching examination of himself to see whether some part of his brain
has not gone to sleep. There is a subtle danger in a man thinking that
he is "fixed" for life. It indicates that the next jolt of the wheel of
progress is going to fling him off.
There is also the great fear of being thought a fool. So many men are
afraid of being considered fools. I grant that public opinion is a
powerful police influence for those who need it. Perhaps it is true that
the majority of men need the restraint of public opinion. Public opinion
may keep a man better than he would otherwise be--if not better morally,
at least better as far as his social desirability is concerned. But it
is not a bad thing to be a fool for righteousness' sake. The best of it
is that such fools usually live long enough to prove that they were not
fools--or the work they have begun lives long enough to prove they were
not foolish.
The money influence--the pressing to make a profit on an
"investment"--and its consequent neglect of or skimping of work and
hence of service showed itself to me in many ways. It seemed to be at
the bottom of most troubles. It was the cause of low wages--for without
well-directed work high wages cannot be paid. And if the whole attention
is not given to the work it cannot be well directed. Most men want to be
free to work; under the system in use they could not be free to work.
During my first experience I was not free--I could not give full play to
my ideas. Everything had to be planned to make money; the last
consideration was the work. And the most curious part of it all was the
insistence that it was the money and not the work that counted. It did
not seem to strike any one as illogical that money should be put ahead
of work--even though everyone had to admit that the profit had to come
from the work. The desire seemed to be to find a short cut to money and
to pass over the obvious short cut--which is through the work.
Take competition; I found that competition was supposed to be a menace
and that a good manager circumvented his competitors by getting a
monopoly through artificial means. The idea was that there were only a
certain number of people who could buy and that it was necessary to get
their trade ahead of someone else. Some will remember that later many of
the automobile manufacturers entered into an association under the
Selden Patent just so that it might be legally possible to control the
price and the output of automobiles. They had the same idea that so many
trades unions have--the ridiculous notion that more profit can be had
doing less work than more. The plan, I believe, is a very antiquated
one. I could not see then and am still unable to see that there is not
always enough for the man who does his work; time spent in fighting
competition is wasted; it had better be spent in doing the work. There
are always enough people ready and anxious to buy, provided you supply
what they want and at the proper price--and this applies to personal
services as well as to goods.
During this time of reflection I was far from idle. We were going ahead
with a four-cylinder motor and the building of a pair of big racing
cars. I had plenty of time, for I never left my business. I do not