“There is one name,” says
Elbert Hubbard, “that stands out in history like
a beacon light after all these twenty-five hundred
years have passed, just because the man had the sublime
genius of discovering ability. That man is Pericles.
Pericles made Athens and to-day the very dust of the
street of Athens is being sifted and searched for
relics and remnants of the things made by people who
were captained by men of ability who were discovered
by Pericles.”
The remark of Andrew Carnegie that
he won his success because he had the knack of picking
the right men has become a classic in current speech.
Augustus Cæsar built up and extended the power of
the Roman Empire because he knew men. The careers
of Charlemagne, Napoleon, Disraeli, Washington, Lincoln,
and all the empire builders and empire saviours hold
their places in history because these men knew how
to recognize, how to select, and how to develop to
the highest degree the abilities of their co-workers.
The great editors, Greeley, Dana, James Gordon Bennett,
McClure, Gilder and Curtis, attained their high station
in the world of letters largely because of their ability
to unearth men of genius. Morgan, Rockefeller,
Theodore N. Vail, James J. Hill, and other builders
of industrial and commercial empires laid strong their
foundations by almost infallible wisdom in the selection
of lieutenants. Even in the world of sports the
names of Connie Mack, McGraw, Chance, Moran, Carrigan
and Stallings shine chiefly because of their keen
judgment of human nature.
If the glory that was Greece shone
forth because Pericles kindled its flame, then Pericles
in any time and amongst any people would probably
have ushered in a Golden Age. Had Carnegie lived
in any other day and sought his industrial giants,
he would no doubt have found them. If a supreme
judge of latent talent and inspirer of high achievement
can thus always find material ready to his hand, it
follows that humanity is rich in undiscovered genius that,
in the race, there are, unguessed and undeveloped,
possibilities for a millennium of Golden Ages.
Psychologists tell us that only a very small percentage
of the real ability and energy of the average man
is ever developed or used.
“Poor man!” says a reviewer,
speaking of a contemporary, “he never discovered
his discoverer.” The man who waits for his
Pericles usually waits in vain. There has been
only one Pericles in all history. Great geniuses
in the discovery, development, and management of men
are rare. Most men never meet them. And
yet every man can discover his discoverer.
Self-knowledge is the first step to
self-development. Through an understanding of
his own aptitudes and talents one may find fullest
expression for the highest possibilities of his intellect
and spirit. A man who thus knows himself needs
no other discoverer. The key to self-knowledge
is intelligent, scientific self-study.
In the year 1792, Mahmoud Effendi,
a Turkish archer, hit a mark with an arrow at 482
yards. His bow, arrows, thumb-ring and groove
are still on exhibition in London as proof of the
feat. His prowess lay in his native gift, trained
by years of practice, to guess the power of his bow,
the weight and balance of his arrow, and the range
and direction of his target; also, the sweep of the
wind. This he gained by observations repeated
until the information gathered from them amounted to
almost exact knowledge. Thousands of gunners
to-day hit a mark miles away, with a 16-inch gun,
not because they are good guessers, but because, by
means of science, they determine accurately all of
the factors entering into the flight of their projectiles.
Pericles judged men by a shrewd guess the
kind of guess called intuition. But such intuition
is only a native gift of keen observation, backed
by good judgment, and trained by shrewd study of large
numbers of men until it becomes instinctively accurate.
In modern times we are learning not
to depend upon mere guesses no matter how
shrewd. Mahmoud Effendi could not pass on to others
the art he had acquired. But the science of gunnery
can be taught to any man of average intelligence and
natural aptitudes. Pericles left posterity not
one hint about how to judge men how to
recognize ability. Humanity needs a scientific
method of judging men, so that any man of intelligence
can discover genius or just native ability in
himself and others.
As the result of our ignorance, great
possibilities lie undeveloped in nearly all men.
Self-expression is smothered in uncongenial toil.
Parents and teachers, groping in the dark, have long
been training natural-born artists to become mechanics,
natural-born business men to become musicians, and
boys and girls with great aptitudes for agriculture
and horticulture to become college professors, lawyers,
and doctors. Splendid human talent, amounting
in some cases to positive genius, is worse than wasted
as a result.
In our experience, covering years
of careful investigation and the examination of many
thousands of individuals, we have seen so much of the
tragedy of the misfit that it seems at times almost
universal. The records of one thousand persons
taken at random from our files show that 763, or 76.3
per cent, felt that they were in the wrong vocations.
Of these 414 were thirty-five years old or older.
Most of these, when questioned as to why they had
entered upon vocations for which they had so little
natural aptitude, stated that they had either drifted
along lines of least resistance or had been badly
advised by parents, teachers, or employers.
We knew a wealthy father, deaf to
all pleas from his children, who spent thousands of
dollars upon what he thought was a musical education
for his daughter, including several years in Europe.
The young lady could not become a musician. The
aptitude for music was not in her. But she was
unusually talented in mathematics and appreciation
of financial values, and could have made a marked
success had she been permitted to gratify her constantly
reiterated desire for a commercial career. This
same father, with the same obstinacy, insisted that
his son go into business. The young man was so
passionately determined to make a career of music that
he was a complete failure in business and finally
embezzled several thousand dollars from his employer
in the hope of making his escape to Europe and securing
a musical education. Here were two human lives
of marked talent as completely ruined and wasted as
a well-intentioned but ignorant and obstinate parent
could accomplish that end.
A few years ago a young man was brought
to us by his friends for advice. He had been
educated for the law and then inherited from his father
a considerable sum of money. Having no taste
for the law and a repugnance for anything like office
work, he had never even attempted to begin practice.
Having nothing to do, he was becoming more and more
dissipated, and when we saw him first had lost confidence
in himself and was utterly discouraged. “I
am useless in the world,” he told us. “There
is nothing I can do.” At our suggestion,
he was finally encouraged to purchase land and begin
the scientific study and practice of horticulture.
The last time we saw him he was erect, ruddy, hard-muscled,
and capable looking. Best of all, his old, petulant,
dissatisfied expression was gone. In its place
was the light of worthy achievement, success, and
happiness. He told us there were no finer fruit
trees anywhere than his. Such incidents as this
are not rare indeed, they are commonplace.
We could recount them from our records in great number.
But every observant reader can supply many from his
own experience.
Thousands of young men and women are
encouraged, every year, to enroll in schools where
they will spend time and money preparing themselves
for professions already overcrowded and for which
a large majority of them have no natural aptitudes.
A prominent physician tells us that of the forty-eight
who were graduated from medical school with him, he
considers only three safe to consult upon medical
subjects. Indeed, so great is the need and so
increasingly serious is it becoming, as our industrial
and commercial life grows more complex and the demand
for conservation and efficiency more exacting, that
progressive men and women in our universities and
schools and elsewhere have undertaken a study of the
vocational problem and are earnestly working toward
a solution of it in vocational bureaus, vocational
schools, and other ways, all together comprising the
vocational movement.
Roger W. Babson, in his book, “The
Future of the Working Classes: Economic Facts
for Employers and Wage Earners,” says: “The
crowning work of an economic educational system will
be vocational guidance. One of the greatest handicaps
to all classes to-day is that 90 per cent of the people
have entered their present employment blindly and by
chance, irrespective of their fitness or opportunities.
Of course, the law of supply and demand is continually
correcting these errors, but this readjusting causes
most of the world’s disappointments and losses.
Some day the schools of the nation will be organized
into a great reporting bureau on employment opportunities
and trade conditions, directing the youths of the nation so
far as their qualifications warrant into
lines of work which then offer the greatest opportunity.
Only by such a system will each worker receive the
greatest income possible for himself, and also the
greatest benefits possible from the labors of all,
thus continually increasing production and yet avoiding
overproduction in any single line.” That
the main features of the system suggested by Mr. Babson
are being made the basis of the vocational movement
is one of the most hopeful signs of the times.
Dr. George W. Jacoby, the neurologist,
says: “It is scarcely too much to say that
the entire future happiness of a child depends upon
the successful bringing out of its capabilities.
For upon that rests the choice of its life work.
A mistake in this choice destroys all the real joy
of living it almost means a lost life.”
Consider the stone wall against which
the misfit batters his head:
He uses only his second rate, his
third rate, or even less effective mental and physical
equipment. He is thus handicapped at the start
in the race against those using their best. He
is like an athlete with weak legs, but powerful arms
and shoulders, trying to win a foot race instead of
a hand-over-hand rope-climbing contest.
Worse than his ineptitude, however,
is the waste and atrophy of his best powers through
disuse. Thus the early settlers of the Coachela
Valley fought hunger and thirst while rivers of water
ran away a few feet below the surface of the richly
fertile soil.
No wonder, then, that the misfit hates
his work. And yet, his hate for it is the real
tragedy of his life.
Industry, like health, is normal.
All healthy children, even men, are active. Activity
means growth and development. Inactivity means
decay and death. The man who has no useful work
to do sometimes expresses himself in wrong-doing and
crime, for he has to do something industriously to
live. Even our so-called “idle rich”
and leisure classes are strenuously active in their
attempts to amuse themselves.
When, therefore, a man hates his work,
when he is dissatisfied and discontented in it, when
his work arouses him to destructive thoughts and feelings,
rather than constructive, there is something wrong,
something abnormal, and the abnormality is his attempt
to do work for which he is unfitted by natural aptitudes
or by training.
The man who is trying to do work for
which he is unfitted feels repressed, baffled and
defeated. He may not even guess his unfitness,
but he does feel its manifold effect. He lacks
interest in his work and, therefore, that most vital
factor in personal efficiency incentive.
He cannot throw himself into his work with a whole
heart.
When Thomas A. Edison is bent upon
realizing one of his ideas, his absorption in his
work exemplifies Emerson’s dictum: “Nothing
great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm.
The way of life is wonderful it is by abandonment.”
He shuts himself away from all interruption in his
laboratory; he works for hours oblivious of everything
but his idea. Even the demands of his body for
food and sleep do not rise above the threshold of
consciousness.
Edison himself says that great achievement
is a result, not of genius, but of this kind of concentration
in work and, until the mediocre man has
worked as has Edison, he cannot prove the contrary.
Mr. Edison has results to prove the value of his way
of working. Even our most expert statisticians
and mathematicians would find it difficult to calculate,
accurately, the amount of material wealth this one
worker has added to humanity’s store. Of
the unseen but higher values in culture, in knowledge,
in the spread of civilization, and in greater joy of
living for millions of people, there are even greater
riches. Other men of the past and present, in
every phase of activity, have demonstrated that such
an utter abandonment to one’s tasks is the keynote
of efficiency and achievement. But such abandonment
is impossible to the man who is doing work into which
he cannot throw his best and greatest powers which
claims only his poorest and weakest.
This man’s very failure to achieve
increases his unrest and unhappiness. Walter
Dill Scott, the psychologist, in his excellent book,
“Increasing Human Efficiency in Business,”
gives loyalty and concentration as two of the important
factors in human efficiency. But loyalty pre-supposes
the giving of a man’s best. Concentration
demands interest and enthusiasm. These are products
of a love of the work to be done.
The man employed at work for which
he is unfit, therefore, finds it not a means of self-expression,
but a slow form of self-destruction. All this
wretchedness of spirit reacts directly upon the efficiency
of the worker. “A successful day is likely
to be a restful one,” says Professor Scott, “an
unsuccessful day an exhausting one. The man who
is greatly interested in his work and who finds delight
in overcoming the difficulties of his calling is not
likely to become so tired as the man for whom the
work is a burden.
“Victory in intercollegiate
athletic events depends on will power and physical
endurance. This is particularly apparent in football.
Frequently it is not the team with the greater muscular
development or speed of foot that wins the victory,
but the one with the more grit and perseverance.
At the conclusion of a game players are often unable
to walk from the field and need to be carried.
Occasionally the winning team has actually worked
the harder and received the more serious injuries.
Regardless of this fact, it is usually true that the
victorious team leaves the field less jaded than the
conquered team. Furthermore, the winners will
report next day refreshed and ready for further training,
while the losers may require several days to overcome
the shock and exhaustion of their defeat.
“Recently I had a very hard
contest at tennis. Some hours after the game I
was still too tired to do effective work. I wondered
why, until I remembered that I had been thoroughly
beaten, and that, too, by an opponent whom I felt
I outclassed. I had been in the habit of playing
even harder contests and ordinarily with no discomfort especially
when successful in winning the match.
“What I have found so apparent
in physical exertion is equally true in intellectual
labor. Writing or research work which progresses
satisfactorily leaves me relatively fresh; unsuccessful
efforts bring their aftermath of weariness.
“Intellectual work which
is pleasant is stimulating and does not fag one, while
intellectual work which is uninteresting or displeasing
is depressing and exhausting....
“To restore muscular and nerve
cells is a very delicate process. So wonderful
is the human organism, however, that the process is
carried on perfectly without our consciousness or
volition except under abnormal conditions.
“Food and air are the first
essentials of this restoration. In-directly the
perfect working of all the bodily organs contributes
to the process especially deepened breathing,
heightened pulse, and increase of bodily volume due
to the expansion of the blood vessels running just
beneath the skin.
“Here pleasure enters.
Its effect on the expenditure of energy is to make
muscle and brain cells more available for consumption,
and particularly to hasten the process of restoration
or recuperation.
“The deepened breathing supplies
more air for the oxidation of body wastes. The
heightened pulse carries nourishment more rapidly to
the depleted tissues and relieves the tissues more
rapidly from the poisonous wastes produced by work.
The body, the machine, runs more smoothly, and few
stops for repairs are made necessary.
“In addition to these specific
functions, pleasure hastens all the bodily processes
which are of advantage to the organism. The
hastening may be so great that recuperation keeps
pace with the consumption consequent on efficient
labor, with the result that there is little or no exhaustion.
This is, in physiological terms, the reason why a person
can do more when he ‘enjoys’ his work
or play, and can continue his efforts for a longer
period without fatigue. The man who enjoys his
work requires less time for recreation and exercise,
for his enjoyment recharges the storage battery of
energy.”
But the misfit can take none of this
pleasure in his work. He is unhappy because he
cannot do his best; he is wretched because he feels
that he is being defeated in the contest of life;
he is miserable because he hates the things he has
to do; he can take no satisfaction in his work because
he feels that it is poorly done; and, finally, all
of his joylessness reacts upon him, decreasing his
efficiency and making him a more pitiable failure.
So this is the vicious circle:
Misfit;
Inefficient;
Unhappy;
More inefficient.
Rather is it a descending spiral,
leading down to poverty, disease, crime and death.
Now, consider the man who has found
his work. To him the glorious abandonment
which is the way to achievement is possible. Such
a man does not merely exist he lives, and
lives grandly. His work gives him joy, both in
its doing and in its results. It calls out and
develops his highest and best talents. He therefore
grows in power, in wisdom, in health, in efficiency,
and in success. All his life runs in an ascending
spiral. No task appalls him. No difficulty
daunts him. He may work hard terribly
hard. He may tunnel through mountains of drudgery.
He will shun the easy ways and leave the soft jobs
to weaker men. But through it all there will
be a song in his heart.
Work to such a man is as natural an
expression as hunger, or love, or pleasure, or laughter.
He returns to it with zest and eagerness. Such
a man’s work flows out from his soul. It
is an expression of the divine in him.
The almost universal cry for leisure
is due to the almost universal unfitness of men and
women for their tasks. The wise man knows that
there is no happiness in leisure. The only happiness
is self-expression in useful work. And so we
come again to the problem of fitting the man to his
work. Every man is a bundle of possibilities.
Every man has a right to usefulness, prosperity and
happiness. These are possible only through knowledge
of self, knowledge of others, knowledge of work, and
the ability to make the right combination of self
and others and work.
Man has learned much about the material
universe. Nearly everything has been analyzed
and classified. Man weighs, measures, tests, and
in others ways scrupulously determines the fitness
of every bit of material that goes into a machine
before it is built. There are scientific ways
of selecting cattle, horses, and even hogs for particular
purposes. Purchasing departments of great commercial
and industrial institutions maintain laboratories
for the determination, with mathematical exactitude,
of the qualifications and fitness to requirements of
all kinds of materials, tools and equipment.
And yet, when it comes to the choice of his own life
work, the guidance of his children in their vocations,
or the selection of employees and co-workers, the
average man decides the entire matter by almost any
other consideration than scientifically determined
fitness. He takes counsel with personal prejudices,
with customs and traditions, with pride, or with fear or
he leaves the decision to mere guess-work, or even
chance.
It is time, therefore, that man should
learn about himself and others, and especially about
those things which are vital to even a moderate enjoyment
of the good things of life.
Two diametrically opposite states
of mind have been responsible for this lack of careful
study of the aptitudes, characteristics, and qualifications
of man and the ways of determining them in advance
of actual performance. The first of these has
been characterized by loose thinking, unscientific
methods, arbitrary and complicated systems –
such as palmistry, astrology, physiognomy, phrenology,
and others of the same ilk. In these systems,
some truth, patiently learned by sincere and able
workers, has been befogged and contaminated by hasty
conclusions of the incompetent and clever lies of
charlatans. Thus the whole subject has fallen
into disrepute with intelligent people. Ever since
the earliest days of recorded history there have been
attempts at character reading. Many different
avenues of approach to the subject have been opened;
some by sincere and earnest men of scientific minds
and scholarly attainments; some by sincere and earnest
but unscientific laymen; and some by mountebanks and
charlatans. As the result of all this study, research
and empiricism, a great mass of alleged facts about
physical characteristics has been accumulated.
When we began our research seventeen years ago, we
found a very considerable library covering every phase
of character interpretation, both scientific and unscientific.
A great deal has been added since that time.
’Much of this literature is pseudo-scientific,
and some of it is pure quackery.
The second state of mind is a reaction
from the first. Some men of science are timid
about accepting or stating anything in regard to character
analysis. They demand more than conclusive proof;
what they insist upon is mathematical accuracy.
Until a man can be analyzed in such a way as to leave
nothing to common sense or good judgment, they hesitate
to acknowledge that he can be analyzed at all.
But in the very nature of the case, the science of
character analysis cannot be a science in the same
sense in which chemistry and mathematics are sciences.
So far our studies and experiences do not lead us
to expect that it ever can become absolute and exact.
Human nature is complicated by too many variables and
obscured by too much that is elusive and intangible.
We cannot put a man on the scales and determine that
he has so many milligrams of common sense, or apply
the micrometer to him and say that he has so many millimetres
of financial ability. Human traits and human
values are relative and can be determined and stated
only relatively. We shall, therefore, waste both
time and human values if we wait until our knowledge
is mathematically exact before we make it useful to
ourselves and to others.
The sciences of medicine, agriculture,
chemistry and physics are not yet exact. They
are in a state of development. We have, however,
the good sense to apply them so far as we know them,
and to accept new discoveries, new methods, and new
ways of applying them, as they come to us. And
so, in the study of ourselves, let us throw aside
traditions; let us forget the mountebanks and charlatans
of the past; let us not wait for the final work of
the mathematician; but, with plain common sense, let
us apply such knowledge as we have at hand. This
knowledge should be the result of careful observation,
of a careful and prolonged study of all that science
has discovered in regard to man, his origin, his development,
his history, his body, and his mind. Every conclusion
reached should be verified, not in hundreds, but in
thousands of cases, before it is finally accepted.
The perfection of such a science requires
the united efforts of many investigators, experimenters,
and practical workers, such as teachers, employers,
social workers, parents, and men and women everywhere,
each in his own way and in the solution of his own
problems. Were a uniform method adopted and made
a part of the vocational work of our social settlements,
our public schools, our colleges and universities,
and other institutions, also by private individuals
in selecting their own vocations; were uniform records
to be made and every subject analyzed followed up,
and his career studied, we should, in one generation,
have data from which any intelligent, analytical mind
could formulate a science of human analysis very nearly
approaching exactitude.
As a result of the application of
such a uniform method, the principles of human analysis
would rapidly become a matter of common knowledge and
could be taught in our schools just as we to-day teach
the principles of chemical, botanical, or zoological
analysis. In the industries, the scientific selection,
assignment and management of men have yielded increases
in efficiency from one hundred to one thousand per
cent. The majority of people that were dealt
with were mature, with more or less fixity of character
and habits. Many of them were handicapped by iron-clad
limitations and restrictions in their affairs and in
their environments. What results may be possible
when these methods, improved and developed by a wider
use, are applied to young people, with their plastic
minds and wonderful latent possibilities, we cannot
even venture to forecast.
While we are accustomed to thinking
of unfitness for our tasks as the one form of maladjustment
due to our ignorance of human nature in general and
individual traits in particular, there are other forms
which, in their own way, cause much trouble and the
remedying of which leads to desirable results.
These are many and varied, but may be grouped, perhaps,
most conveniently under two or three general headings.
First, there is the relationship between
employers and employees. The disturbances and
inharmony which mark this relationship, and have marked
it throughout human history, are due as much, perhaps,
to misunderstanding of human nature as to any one
other cause. When employers select men unfitted
for their tasks, assign them to work in environments
where they are handicapped from the start, and associate
them together and with executives in combinations
which are inherently inharmonious, it is inevitable
that trouble should follow.
The larger aspects of the employment
problem are treated in the second part of this book.
Inasmuch, however, as the subject has been more fully
discussed in another volume, no attempt is made
to go into details.
Adjustment to environment means very
largely the ability successfully to associate with,
cooperate with, and secure one’s way among one’s
fellow men. In order to be successful in life,
we must first live on terms of mutual cooperation
with our parents; second, secure the best instruction
possible from our teachers; third, make social progress;
fourth, secure gainful employment, either from one
employer, as in the case of the laborer and the executive,
or from several, as in the cases of professional men.
Having secured employment, our progress depends upon
our ability to attain promotion, to increase our business
or our practice, to add to our patrons. Salesmen
must sell more, and more advantageously. Attorneys
must convince judges and juries, as well as obtain
desired testimony from witnesses. Preachers and
other public speakers of all classes must entertain,
interest, arouse, and convince their audiences.
Writers must each appeal successfully to his particular
public as well as to his publisher. Engineers
must establish and sustain successful relationship
with clients, employers, and employees.
In the third part of this book, therefore,
we deal more or less at length with the psychological
processes of persuasion and their application in various
forms and to the varied personalities of those whom
we wish to persuade.
Finally, in the fourth part, we devote
three chapters to a consideration of the Science of
Character Analysis by the Observational Method, the
principles of which underlie all of the observations
and suggestions appearing in the first three parts.
In presenting the material in this
volume, our aim has been not to propound a theory,
but merely to make practical, for the use of our readers,
so far as possible, the results of our own experiences
in this field.