The Coming of Coal

In Short

This historical and industrial analysis explores the coal industry as the bedrock of the modern age. It charts the progression from the Industrial Revolution’s initial reliance on coal to the subsequent rise of labor unions, the intervention of the federal government during the national fuel crises of the early twentieth century, and the desperate need for scientific management. By framing coal not just as a commodity but as a central challenge to human morality, the book argues for an informed, democratic oversight of the nation's most vital resource.

The Story

The narrative begins with the realization that coal is the primary fuel of the modern era, acting as the silent, sun-derived energy that transformed humanity. The Industrial Revolution, fueled by coal, allowed for the rapid development of locomotives, telegraphs, and electrical dynamos. These advancements granted unprecedented dominance to nations with rich coal deposits—England, Germany, and the United States. However, this progress came at a steep price. The "acquisitive instinct," the driving force of the era, prioritized quick wealth over human welfare. This led to a cycle of intense overdevelopment, where more mines were opened than were necessary, resulting in volatile markets, periods of feverish labor, and long, grueling stretches of unemployment for the miners.

As the industry expanded, particularly in America, the conditions underground became synonymous with peril. Miners, facing horrific accidents and precarious living standards, began to realize that their individual strength was insufficient to combat the power of the coal operators. This realization sparked the early labor movement, characterized by attempts to build associations that could protect the workers' health and dignity. Yet, these early efforts faced immense resistance. The public and the political establishment, clinging to a feudal-era sanctity of private property, often dismissed these unions as alien institutions led by agitators who threatened the national order.

The turn of the century brought these tensions to a head, most notably during the anthracite crises. The escalating conflict between labor and management forced the federal government to intervene, with President Theodore Roosevelt acting as a mediator. This set a new precedent for government oversight, culminating in the wartime Fuel Administration. This body attempted to manage the industry as a unified, essential utility rather than a collection of private, competing businesses.

Despite these steps, the industry remained trapped in inefficiency. The "technical revolution" promised by engineers—which included by-product recovery, gasification, and scientific distribution—was stalled by a lack of transparency and a stubborn reliance on antiquated methods. The closing chapters argue that the coal industry remains in a "fog," shielded from public scrutiny by "trade secrets" and injunctions that prevent the government from gathering vital statistics. The story concludes with a plea for democratic education. The author insists that the survival of a modern, complex society depends on moving beyond the primitive, "hunting-tribe" level of industrial management. The ultimate resolution lies in the realization that the coal industry must be operated through public disclosure, scientific efficiency, and a recognition of the shared interest between capital, labor, and the public, replacing the wasteful, competitive struggle for dominance with a system grounded in mutual aid and engineering precision.

How It Unfolds

The challenge of power The book opens by situating coal as the modern successor to the sun’s energy, noting how it transformed crude inventions into the complex technological framework of the modern world. It immediately pivots to the moral dimension, questioning whether this progress serves the soul of man or merely the acquisitive instinct.

The drama of civilization This section details how the Industrial Revolution relied on the exploitation of both natural resources and human labor. It explains how nations grew rich by "skimming" the earth, creating a pattern of planless, wasteful development that defined the coal industry's early history.

The awakening of the miners The narrative follows the miners’ transition from isolated, powerless individuals to members of organized associations. It highlights the brutal mining disasters, like the Avondale fire, which acted as catalysts for demanding government supervision and legal protections.

The struggle for organization This beat covers the formation of national labor groups, such as the American Miners’ Association and the later National Federation of Miners. It depicts the uphill battle these organizations faced against an American public that viewed unionization as a fundamental violation of property rights.

The rise of democracy The focus shifts to the era of arbitration and the intervention of the state in industrial disputes. It examines the limitations of "splitting the difference" in wage negotiations and the subsequent push for constitutional, democratic governance within the workplace.

The technical revolution The final section contrasts the potential for efficient coal usage—such as byproduct extraction—with the current reality of waste. It argues that only by ending the "fog" of private secrecy and adopting national, scientific management can the industry meet the demands of a modern society.

The People

The figures in this history are not merely individuals, but representatives of broader social forces. The miners, including leaders like Thomas Lloyd and John McBride, represent the growing "consciousness of kind." They are individuals trying to escape economic bondage, who find that their individual efforts are futile against the weight of the industry. They want security and human dignity, but they are consistently blocked by the prevailing notion that labor is a subservient element of capital.

The coal operators are driven by the "acquisitive instinct." While some acknowledge a public obligation, most view their mines as personal fiefdoms, prioritizing rapid profit over the long-term health of the community or the land. They are defined by their resistance to transparency, often treating basic operational data as "trade secrets" to keep the government and the public at bay.

President Theodore Roosevelt emerges as a pivotal figure, representing the power of the state to mediate between these warring factions. He does not seek to abolish the system but to impose a "just and permanent basis" for relations, signaling the birth of the belief that essential industries possess a public character. W. P. Rend, an operator who broke ranks to cooperate with the miners, serves as a counterpoint to the typical owner, showing that harmony and profit are not mutually exclusive, though he remains an exception to the rule of the era.

In Its Own Voice

The value of coal, as of all material things, finds its true measure not in numbers or horse-power units, but in its effect upon the soul of man.

The author makes this point early on, establishing that industry must be judged by its impact on human well-being rather than just output.

The coal and petroleum industries are closely interrelated; coal and petroleum are largely interchangeable as sources of energy.

This statement bridges the historical reliance on coal with the growing competition from oil that threatens to disrupt the coal industry's monopoly.

The most basic of our American industries moves in fog by day and blackness by night.

The author concludes with this metaphor, describing the lack of public information regarding ownership, profits, and technical efficiency in the mines.

What It's Really About

The book is a fundamental argument for the evolution of industrial management from a "hunting-tribe" mindset to a scientific, democratic one. It asks if a society can truly be considered modern when its most vital source of power—coal—is managed with such wastefulness, secrecy, and disregard for human life. The core theme is the tension between the "acquisitive instinct" and the "consciousness of kind." It posits that technological progress is hollow without a corresponding increase in social maturity. The underlying question is whether a democratic government can, or should, assert its authority to ensure that the resources necessary for the "good life" are treated as a public trust rather than private plunder.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of labor, the development of American energy policy, or the philosophy of industrial management will find this an essential, if sobering, document. It captures the specific, mid-industrialization anxiety of the early 1920s—a moment when the fragility of the nation's energy supply felt like an existential threat. The writing is precise and deeply moral, though readers should be prepared for the dense, earnest prose typical of the era’s social reformers.

The book does not shy away from the harsh realities of the coal fields, citing horrific disasters to illustrate its points, which provides a stark contrast to the abstract economic theories of the time. What remains most striking today is how the author’s critique of "trade secrets" and the "fog" surrounding industrial data remains relevant in an age of corporate opacity. While the specific technologies and labor laws have evolved, the struggle to balance the need for profit with the necessity of public welfare remains central. It is a dense, sometimes difficult read, but it offers a profound look at how a nation can be built upon a foundation of energy, only to find that the system requires a much deeper, more democratic soul to sustain itself in the long run.