University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V

CONCENTRATION

AS A MEANS OF INCREASING HUMAN EFFICIENCY

THE owner of one of the largest and most complex businesses in America handles his day's work on a schedule as exacting as a railway time-table. In no other way could he keep in touch with and administer the manifold activities of his industry and a score of allied interests—buying of the day's raw materials for a dozen plants in half as many markets, direction of an organization exceeding 20,000 men, selling and delivering a multitude of products in a field as wide as three continents, financing the whole tremendous fabric.

Every department of his business, therefore, has its hour or quarter hour in the daily program when its big problems are considered

and settled on the tick of the clock. This schedule is flexible, since no two days bring from any division of production, distribution, or financing the same demands upon the owner's attention. Yet each keeps its place and comes invariably under his eye—through reports and his own mastery of conditions affecting the department.

To secure the high personal efficiency required for this oversight and methodical dispatch of affairs, the owner-executive is not only protected from outside interruptions and distractions, but is also guarded against intrusion of the vital elements of his business—both men and matters —except at the moment most advantageous for dealing with them.

Analysis and organization have determined these moments—just as they have eliminated every non-essential in the things presented for consideration and decision. Except when emergencies arise there is no departure from the rule: "One thing at a time—the big thing—at the right time." The task in hand is never cheated, or allowed to cheat the next

in line. Management is as much a continuous process, organized and wasteproof, as the journey of raw materials through his plants.

This is an illustration of remarkable individual efficiency attained by concentration —the power of the human mind which seems inseparable from any great achievement in business, in politics, in the arts, in education. Through it men of moderate capacities have secured results apparently beyond the reach of genius. And in no field has this power of concentration been displayed more vividly by leaders or been more generally lacking in the rank and file than in business. Analysis of the conditions may suggest the reason and the remedy.

The modern business man is exhausted no more by his actual achievements than by the things which he is compelled to resist doing.

Appeals for his attention are ceaseless. The roar of the street, the ring of telephone bells, the din of typewriting machines, the sight of a row of men waiting for an interview, the muffled voices from neighboring offices or

workers, the plan for the day's work which is being delayed, the anxiety for the results for certain endeavors, suspicion as to the loyalty of employees—these and a score of other distractions are constantly bombarding him.

Every appeal for attention demands expenditure of energy—to ignore it and hold the mind down to the business in hand. The simple life with its single appeal is not for the business man. For him life is complex and strenuous. To overcome distractions and focus his mind on one thing is a large part of his task. If this single thing alone appealed to his attention, the effort would be pleasing and effective. It is not the work that is hard; the strain comes in keeping other things at bay while completing the pressing duty.

He is exhausted, not because of his achievements, but because of the expenditure of energy in resisting distractions.

He is inefficient, not through lack of industry, but from lack of opportunity or of ability to concentrate his energy upon the single task at hand.

All sources of illumination—from the candle to the sun—send out rays of light equally in all directions. If illumination of only one point is desired, the loss is appalling. The rays may be assembled, however, by reflectors and lenses and so brought to bear in great force at a single point.

This brilliancy is not secured by greater expenditure of energy, but by utilizing the rays which, except for the reflectors and lenses, would be dissipated in other directions.

As any source gives off equally in all directions, so the human intellect seems designed to respond to all forms and sorts of appeal for attention.

To keep light from going off in useless directions we use reflectors; to keep human energy from being expended in useless directions we must remove distractions. To focus the light at any point we use lenses; to focus our minds at any point we use concentration.

Concentration is a state secured by the mental activity called attention. To understand concentration we must first consider the more fundamental facts of attention.

In the evolution of the human race certain things have been so important for the individual and the race that responses towards them have become instinctive. They appeal to every individual and attract his attention without fail. Thus moving objects, loud sounds, sudden contrasts, and the like, were ordinarily portents of evil to primitive man, and his attention was drawn to them irresistibly. Even for us to pay attention to such objects requires no intention and no effort. Hence it is spoken of as passive or involuntary attention.

The attention of animals and of children is practically confined to this passive form, while adults are by no means free from it. For instance, ideas and things to which I have no intention of turning my mind attract me. Ripe fruit, gesticulating men, beautiful women, approaching holidays, and scores of other things simply pop up in my mind and enthrall my attention. My mind may be so concentrated upon these things that I become oblivious to pressing responsibilities. In some

instances the concentration may be but momentary; in others there may result a day dream, a building of air castles, which lasts for a long time and recurs with distressing frequency.

Such attention is action in the line of least resistance. Though it may suffice for the acts of animals and children it is sadly deficient for our complex business life.

Even here, however, it is easy to relapse to the lower plane of activity and to respond to the appeal of the crier in the street, the inconvenience of the heat, the news of the ball game, or a pleasing reverie, or even to fall into a state of mental apathy. The warfare against these distractions is never wholly won. Banishing these allurements results in the concentration so essential for successfully handling business problems. The strain is not so much in solving the problems as in retaining the concentration of the mind.

When an effort of will enables us to overcome these distractions and apply our minds to the subject in hand, the strain soon repeats itself.

It frequently happens that this struggle is continuous—particularly when the distractions are unusual or our physical condition is below the normal. No effort of the will is able to hold our minds down to work for any length of time unless the task develops interest in itself.

This attention with effort is known as voluntary attention. It is the most exhausting act which any individual can perform. Strength of will consists in the power to resist distractions and to hold the mind down to even the most uninteresting occupations.

Fortunately for human achievement, acts which in the beginning require voluntary effort may later result without effort.

The schoolboy must struggle to keep his mind on such uninteresting things as the alphabet. Later he may become a literary man and find that nothing attracts his attention so quickly as printed symbols. In commercial arithmetic the boy labors to fix his attention on dollar signs and problems involving profit and loss. Launched in business,

however, these things may attract him more than a football game.

It is the outcome of previous application that we now attend without effort to many things in our civilization which differ from those of more primitive life. Such attention without effort is known as secondary passive attention. Examples are furnished by the geologist's attention to the strata of the earth, the historian's to original manuscripts, the manufacturer's to by-products, the merchant's to distant customers, and the attention which we all give to printed symbols and scores of other things unnoticed by our distant ancestors. Here our attention is similar to passive attention, though the latter was the result of inheritance, while our secondary passive attention results from our individual efforts and is the product of our training.

Through passive attention my concentration upon a "castle in Spain" may be perfect until destroyed by a fly on my nose. Voluntary attention may make my concentration upon the duty at hand entirely satisfactory

till dissipated by some one entering my office. Secondary passive attention fixes my mind upon the adding of a column of figures, and it may be distracted by a commotion in my vicinity. Thus concentration produced by any form of attention is easily destroyed by a legion of possible disturbances. If I desire to increase my concentration to the maximum, I must remove every possible cause of distraction.

Organized society has recognized the hindering effect of some distractions and has made halting attempts to abolish them.

Thus locomotives are prohibited from sounding whistles within city limits, but power plants are permitted by noise and smoke to annoy every citizen in the vicinity. Street cars are forbidden to use flat wheels, but are still allowed to run on the surface or on a resounding structure and thus become a public nuisance. Steam calliopes, newsboys, street venders, and other unnecessary sources of noise are still tolerated.

In the design and construction of office

buildings, stores, and factories in noisy neighborhoods, too little consideration is given to existing means of excluding or deadening outside sounds, though the newer office buildings are examples of initiative in this direction; not only are they of sound-proof construction, but in many instances they have replaced the noisy pavements of the streets with blocks which reduce the clatter to a minimum. In both improvements they have been emulated by some of the great retail stores which have shut out external noises and reduced those within to a point where they no longer distract the attention of clerks or customers from the business of selling and buying. In many, however, clerks are still forced to call aloud for cash girls or department managers, and the handling of customers at elevators is attended by wholly unnecessary shouting and clash of equipment.

Of all distractions, sound is certainly the most common and the most insistent in its appeal.

The individual efforts towards reducing it quoted above were stimulated by the hope

of immediate and tangible profit—sound-proof offices commanding higher rents and quiet stores attracting more customers. In not a few cases, manufacturers have gone deeper, however, recognizing that anything which claims the attention of an employee from his work reduces his efficiency and cuts profits, even though he be a piece worker. In part this explains the migration of many industries to the smaller towns and the development of a new type of city factory with sound-proof walls and floors, windows sealed against noise, and a system of mechanical ventilation.

The individual manufacturer or merchant, therefore, need not wait for a general crusade to abate the noise, the smoke, and the other distractions which reduce his employee's effectiveness. In no small measure he can shut out external noises and eliminate many of those within. Loud dictation, conversations, clicking typewriters, loud-ringing telephones, can all be cut to a key which makes them virtually indistinguishable in an office of any size. More and more the big open office as

an absorbent of sound seems to be gaining in favor. In one of the newest and largest of these I know, nearly all the typewriting machines are segregated in a glass-walled room, and long-distance telephone messages can be taken at any instrument in the great office.

Like sound in its imperative appeal for attention is the consciousness of strangers passing one's desk or windows.

Movement of fellow employees about the department, unless excessive or unusual, is hardly noticed; let an individual or a group with whom we are not acquainted come within the field of our vision, and they claim attention immediately. For this reason shops or factories whose windows command a busy street find it profitable to use opaque glass to shut out the shifting scene.

This scheme of retreat and protection has been carried well-nigh to perfection by many executives. Private offices guarded by secretaries fortify them against distractions and unauthorized claims on their attention, both from within and without their organizations.

Routine problems, in administration, production, distribution, are never referred to them; these are settled by department heads, and only new or vital questions are submitted to the executive. In many large companies, besides the department heads and secretaries who assume this load of routine, there are assistants to the president and the general manager who further reduce the demands upon their chiefs. The value of time, the effect of interruptions and distractions upon their own efficiency, are understood by countless executives who neglect to guard their employees against similar distractions.

Individual business men, unsupported by organizations, have worked out individual methods of self-protection.

One man postpones consideration of questions of policy, selling conditions, and soon until the business of the day has been finished, and interruptions from customers or employees are improbable. Another, with his stenographer, reaches his office half an hour earlier than his organization, and, picking out the day's big

task, has it well towards accomplishment before the usual distractions begin. The foremost electrical and mechanical engineer in the country solves his most difficult and abstruse problems at home, at night. His organization provides a perfect defense against interruptions; but only in the silence, the isolation of his home at night, does he find the complete absence of distraction permitting the absolute concentration which produces great results.

This chapter was prefaced by an instance where protection from distractions through organization was joined with methodical attack on the elements of the day's work. This combination approaches the ideal; it is the system followed by nearly all the great executives of America. Time and attention are equably allotted to the various interests, the various departments of effort which must have the big man's consideration during the day. Analysis has determined how much of each is required; appointments are made with the men who must coöperate; all other matters are pushed aside until a decision is reached;

and upon the completion of each attention is concentrated on the next task.

A striking instance of this organization of work and concentration upon a single problem is afforded by the "cabinet meetings" of some large corporations and the luncheons of groups of powerful financiers in New York. There are certain questions to be settled, a definite length of time in which to settle them. In the order of their importance they are allotted so many minutes. At the expiration of that time a vote is taken, the president or chairman announces his decision, and the next matter is attacked.

There is no royal method of training in concentration. It is in the main developed by repeated acts of attention upon the subject in hand.

If I am anxious or need to develop the power of concentration upon what people say, either in conversation or in public discourse, I may be helped by persistently and continuously forcing myself to attend. The habit of concentration may to a degree be thus acquired;

pursuing it, I should never allow myself to listen indifferently, but I must force myself to strict attention.

Such practice would result ultimately in a habit of concentration upon what I hear, but would not necessarily increase my power of concentration upon writing, adding, or other activities. Specific training in each is essential, and even then the results will be far short of what might be desired. Persistent effort in any direction is not without result, however, and any increase in concentration is so valuable that it is worth the effort it costs. If a man lacks power of concentration in any particular direction, he should force concentration in that line and continue till a habit results.

Our control over our muscles and movements far exceeds our direct control over our attention. An attitude of concentration is possible, even when the desired mental process is not present. Thus by fixing my eyes on a page and keeping them adjusted for reading, even when my mind is on a subject far removed, I can help my will to secure concentration. I

can likewise restrain myself from picking up a newspaper or from chatting with a friend when it is the time for concentrated action on my work. By continuously resisting movements which tend to distract and by holding myself in the position of attention, the strain upon my will in forcing concentration becomes less.

Concentration is practically impossible when the brain is fagged or the bodily condition is far below the normal in any respect.

The connection between the body and the mind is most intimate, and the perfect working of the body is necessary to the highest efficiency of the mind. The power of concentration is accordingly affected by surroundings in the hours of labor, by sleep and recreation, by the quality and quantity of food, and by every condition which affects the bodily processes favorably.

Recognition of this truth is behind the very general movement, both here and abroad, to provide the best possible conditions both in the factories and the home environment of workers. Employers are coming more and more to understand

that conservation of physical forces means maximum output. The foundation, of course, is a clean, spacious, well-lighted, and perfectly ventilated factory in a situation which affords pure air and accessibility to the homes of employees. In England and Germany the advance towards this ideal has taken form in the "garden cities" of which the plant is the nucleus and the support. In America there is no lack of industrial towns planned and built as carefully as the works to which they are tributary.

Some have added various "welfare" features, ranging from hot luncheons served at cost, free baths, and medical attendance to night schools for employees to teach them how to live and work to better advantage. The profit comes back in the increased efficiency of the employees.

Even though the health be perfect and the attitude of attention be sustained the will is unable to retain concentration by an effort for more than a few seconds at a time.

When the mind is concentrated upon an

object, this object must develop and prove interesting, otherwise there will be required every few seconds the same tug of the will. This concentration by voluntary attention is essential, but cannot be permanent. To secure enduring concentration we may have to "pull ourselves together" occasionally, but the necessity for such efforts should be reduced. This is accomplished by developing interest in the task before us, through application of the fundamental motives such as self-preservation, imitation, competition, loyalty, and the love of the game.

If the task before me is essential for my self-preservation, I shall find my mind riveted upon it. If I hope to secure more from speculation than from the completion of my present tasks, then my self-preservation is not dependent upon my work and my mind will irresistibly be drawn to the stock market and the race track. If I wish my work to be interesting and to compel my undivided attention, I should then try to make it appeal to me as of more importance than anything

else in the world. I must be dependent upon it for my income; I must see that others are working and so imitate their action; I must compete with others in the accomplishment of the task; I must regard the work as a service to the house; and I must in every possible way try to "get into the game."

This conversion of a difficult task into an interesting activity is the most fruitful method of securing concentration.

Efforts of will can never be dispensed with, but the necessity for such efforts should be reduced to the minimum. The assumption of the attitude of attention should gradually become habitual during the hours of work, and so take care of itself.

The methods which a business man must use to cultivate concentration in himself are also applicable to his employees. The manner of applying the methods is, of course, different. The employer may see to it that as far as possible all distractions are removed. He cannot directly cause his men to put forth voluntary effort, but he can see to it that they retain

the attitude of concentration. This may require the prohibition of acts which are distracting but which would otherwise seem indifferent. The employer has a duty in regard to the health of his men. Certain employers have assumed to regulate the lives of their men even after the day's work is over. Bad habits have been prohibited; sanitary conditions of living have been provided; hours of labor have been reduced; vacations have been granted; and sanitary conditions in shop and factory have been provided for.

Employers are finding it to their interest to make concentration easy for their men by rendering their work interesting.

This they have done by making the work seem worth while. The men are given living wages, the hope of promotion is not too long deferred, attractive and efficient models for imitation are provided, friendly competition is encouraged, loyalty to the house is engendered, and love of the work inculcated. In addition, everything which hinders the development of interest in the work has been resisted.

How will a salesman, for instance, develop interest in his work if he makes more from his "side lines" than from the service he renders to the house which pays his expenses? How can the laborer be interested in his work if he believes that by gambling he can make more in an hour than he could by a month's steady work? The successful shoemaker sticks to his last, the successful professional man keeps out of business, and the wise business man resists the temptation to speculate. Occasionally a man may be capable of carrying on diverse lines of business for himself, but the man is certainly a very great exception who can hold his attention to the interests of his employer when he expects to receive greater rewards from other sources.

The power of concentration depends in part upon inheritance and in part upon training.

Some individuals, like an Edison or a Roosevelt, seem to be constructed after the manner of a searchlight. All their energy may be turned in one direction and all the rest of the world disregarded. Others are what we call scatter-brained.

They are unable to attend completely to any one thing. They respond constantly to stimulation in the environment and to ideas which seem to "pop up" in their minds.

Some people can read a book or paper with perfect satisfaction, even though companions around them are talking and laughing. For others, such attempts are farcical.

Many great men are reputed to have had marvelous powers of concentration. When engaged in their work, they became so absorbed in it that distracting thoughts had no access to their minds, and even hunger, sleep, and salutations of friends have frequently been unable to divert the attention from the absorbing topic.

There are persons who cannot really work except in the midst of excitement.

When surrounded by numerous appeals to attention, they get wakened up by resisting these attractions and find superfluous energy adequate to attend to the subject in hand. This is on the same principle that governs the effects of poisonous stimulants. Taken

into the system, the whole bodily activity is aroused in an attempt to expel the poison. Some of this abnormally awakened energy may be applied to uses other than those intended by nature. Hence some individuals are actually helped in their work at least temporarily by the use of stimulants. Most of the energy is of course required to expel the poison, and hence the method of generating the energy is uneconomical.

The men who find that they can accomplish the most work and concentrate themselves upon it the most perfectly when in the midst of noise and confusion are paying a great price for the increase of energy, available for profitable work. To be dependent on confusion for the necessary stimulation is abnormal and expensive. Rapid exhaustion and a shortened life result. It is a bad habit and nothing more.

Many persons seem able to disregard the common and necessary distractions of office, store, or factory.

Other persons are so constituted that these distractions can never be overcome. Such

persons cannot hear a message through a telephone when others in the room are talking; they cannot dictate a letter if a third person is within hearing; they cannot add a column of figures when others are talking. Habit and effort may reduce such disability, but in some instances it will never even approximately eliminate it. Such persons may be very efficient employees, and their inability to concentrate in the presence of distractions should be respected. Every business man is careful to locate every piece of machinery where it will work best, but equal care has not been given to locating men where they may work to the greatest advantage.

By inheritance the power of concentration differs greatly among intelligent persons. By training, those with defective power may improve, but will never perfect the power to concentrate amidst distractions. To subject such persons to distractions is an unwise expenditure of energy

Concentration by voluntary attention should be avoided, but concentration by secondary passive

attention cultivated. Organized business interests should eliminate such public nuisances as surface street cars, elevated trains, venders of wares, screeching newsboys, smoking chimneys, and the like.

In individual establishments walls may be deadened to sounds, telephones may be muffled, call bells may be replaced by buzzers with indicators, clerks may have other methods than that of calling aloud for "cash" or for floor walkers, typewriters may be massed with a view to reducing the general commotion, the illumination at the desks may be increased, discomforts should be reduced to a minimum, work may be so systematized that only one task at a time demands attention.

At least the attitude of concentration should be habitual. The bodily condition favorable to the best concentration may make profitable such devices as firm lunch rooms, the building of industrial villages, and so on.

Concentration is secured positively by bringing into activity the various motives which affect most powerfully the different individuals.

There should be a universal taboo on horse racing and all forms of gambling. Even "side lines" should be completely discouraged. Some individuals are so hindered by the ordinary and necessary distractions of business that special protection should be granted to them.