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Sunday, 5 December 2010

The Emergence of Company Loyalty Amongst Victorian Railway Workers

Company loyalty on the Victorian railways was something that outsiders took for granted. Indeed, railway workers were perceived to be the most loyal employees within British industry. Frank McKenna argued that within the early railway companies ‘a specific loyalty was born, flourished and was difficult to irradiate.’[1]

Two notable studies touched on the origins of company loyalty, focussing on what the railway workers’ jobs were and the space in which they worked. George Revill, in his thesis on the Midland Railway’s Derby headquarters, argued that railway workers’ loyalty was the result of two main factors. On the one hand, railway workers perceived themselves as being important to the ‘growth and stability of the state.’ They were servants of the railway company, which in turn was serving the nation and the public.[2]

On the other hand, because railway employees worked at a distance from headquarters and had to gather information and take decisions themselves, this resulted in employees engaging in what Revill called ‘space management.’ Firstly, railway employment meant that the average railway worker had unique opportunities for promotion and social climbing compared with non-railway employees, and thus, his ‘concept of respectability’ rested with such prospects. Therefore, within his space in the company the individual had the chance to give ‘meaning to his life’ through the creation of a career. This instigated loyalty into him.[3] I would, however, suggest that because different groups of railway employees had better chance than others to advance up the promotional ladder, for example the clerks’ unique opportunities to become managers, that this was a variable factor in workers’ loyalty.

Also, Revill argued that as railway employees had clear limits of their own responsibility, within which they had to manage the work and their physical actions, this gave them a heightened sense of skill and a ‘distinct sense’ of the role they were playing as an important cog in the company machine.[4] This subsequently gave further ‘meaning to their lives.’

Yet, because of this, employees’ began to feel that they owned their particular working area or workplace, which re-enforced loyalty. Indeed, McKenna stated that railway workers could stamp their own mark over a certain ‘area or stretch of ground,’ resulting in what he called the ‘railway bailiwick.’ Railway employees became very protective over ‘my engine,’ ‘my signal box’ or ‘my yard,’ which fostered loyalty to a workplace. Furthermore, both Revill and McKenna argued that once immersed in railway work, the employees also became loyal to social networks within the company. McKenna concluded that what was created was ‘a new form of industrial anthropology, a tribalistic grouping of men based on an elaborate division of labour.’[5] This fostered loyalties to emerge amongst the different classes of employees, for example platelayers, clerks or drivers, but which again were perceived by them collectively as being vital to the working of the whole company.

Further Revill’s argued that the loyalty to the railway company was re-enforced by the interaction with the public. Firstly, because entry into railway work was restricted, through exams and entry qualifications, railway workers came to think of themselves as the ‘chosen few’ with special status'. Secondly, they were providing a service to the public who were dependent on them, whether they were customers or shareholders, and this was perceived as something to be proud of. Lastly, like many railway workers came to see their company as a vital to state's well-being, they also saw the railway company as a microsomal nation in its own right, in which they identified that their department was special to its working.[6]

Thus, these two Historians have developed theories as to factors that played a role in company loyalty in the Victorian period. The space in which railway workers operated and how they came to think about their role within the company, re-enforced company loyalty.


[1] McKenna, Frank, The Railway Workers, 1840-1970, (London, 1980) p.41

[2] Revill, George Edwin, ‘Paternalism, Community and Corporate Culture: A Study of the derby Headquarters of the Midland Railway Company and its Workforce, 1840-1900,’ (Unpublished PhD Thesis. Loughborough University, 1989), pp.344

[3] Revill, ‘Paternalism, Community and Corporate Culture, pp.344

[4] Revill, ‘Paternalism, Community and Corporate Culture, pp.344

[5] McKenna, The Railway Workers, p.40-41

[6] Revill, ‘Paternalism, Community and Corporate Culture, pp.344-5

Friday, 3 December 2010

The Mighty Trek To Snowhere - "South West Trains Can I Have Some Information Please?"

Yesterday, I struggled in vain to get to a party. I suppose the lure of nibbles, socialising, intellectual conversation and alcohol would entice anyone. Yet I failed; foiled in my efforts to get to London by the culprit in most of Britain’s current travel worries, snow. The reality is that this is a story about not travelling on trains; after all, I travelled much further on busses yesterday. Instead, the tale is about the gaps in information that were endemic amongst South West Trains (SWT) staff and subsequently their customers.

My journey started at on the 3.54 train from Hampton Court. As I boarded the train there was no indication that anything was amiss. Thus, I settled in my seat, comfortable in the knowledge that the train was going to stop at the usual places and get me to Waterloo (sorry, ‘London Waterloo’) on time. However, out of the corner of my eye I did notice the guard move in a hurry to the back of the train. On reflection, this should have been my first warning something was up. Anyway, I forgot about it and began to read my book. One of the things about being savvy about the railways is that I notice the small changes in what the trains do. So, when after starting the train immediately jerked to the right onto the outside line, I realised that information had departed from reality on the SWT passenger information boards.

Then the voice of doom came over the speaker system “Ladies and Gentleman, due to adverse weather conditions we are running a shuttle service between Hampton Court and Surbiton, you will need to change trains at Surbiton to continue onto London Waterloo.” I don’t know if this was a practical joke that SWT was playing, but surely that is information I should receive before I commit to a journey, before I tap my Oyster card on the reader, before I start the next page of my book and definitely before the train starts moving. The frustrating thing was that it wouldn’t even have been hard to announce the change in the service just before the train started. I realise that the guard may have been thinking that the passengers may have been able to change at Surbiton, but in reality some of us may not have wanted the hassle, may have put our journey off, or may have travelled via another medium. After all, if one train’s timetable had been affected, we could be pretty certain that every other’s had also.

So, in an annoyed state, I got off the train at Surbiton and wandered over to platforms 1 and 2. Ominously, there were a lot of people already there waiting for a train. My onward journey didn’t look hopeful, and after descending the stairs a quick glance at the signals told me as such. Every signal was red, nothing would be moving from Surbiton for some while. After waiting for about 5 minutes on platform 2, which trains usually streak past without stopping, a class 444 Desiro came to a halt. Now, the class of the locomotive is significant as the class 444s are the long-distance Desiros. They never stop at Surbiton and usually can’t be seen adequately as they are moving so fast.

A frankly bewildered guard stuck his head out. And then the barrage of questions started, “is this train going to Waterloo?” “When do you expect to be on the move?” “How long are you going to be here?” Apart from the simple fact that his next stop, if the train was to move, was going to be Waterloo, he himself was in the dark regarding many of these questions. That said, the source of all the tribulations was finally known, and he informed us that all the signals at Wimbledon had gone down and nothing was moving on the main line. But, many people got on the train in the hope that at some point they would be on the move.

One of the joyful things in such times of trial is that generally people pull together and are good natured, and one of the reoccurring themes in this story is that people try their best to support strangers. Thus, once I had heard what was going on I spent a couple of minutes explaining the situation to a number of people that asked me what I had just heard. Other people did this too. Of course, I put my unique train-twist on things, (“there are two red lights…”) but people were thankful to be better informed, even if they were stuck.

Suddenly, another train arrived on platform one. I don’t know why they thought it would help, but to the cries of “oo, another one,” many people abandoned the class 444, and trotted over to the newcomer. I suppose they thought that, as a train they recognised (it being a local one), it may do better in getting to Waterloo. I watched them moving round the doors, clustering to get on, and then thought hard about my options. I could continue fight from here to get to the party, or I could try another station on a different line. I took the latter option. Kingston was my new destination. I thought that maybe SWT would do what they usually do when works are going on on the main line, in reversing trains there and sending them back to Waterloo. I ‘touched out’ of Surbiton with my Oyster at about 4.20. On my way out I went to the ticket booth to ask if trains from Kingston were still running. I don’t know what I expected, but the response was heartening, “yes, trains are running from Kingston.” That was positive I thought, at least someone, somewhere, knows something.

On arriving at Kingston, it appeared that I just missed a train. Looking up at the board I could see that the 4.27 to Waterloo via Wimbledon, was on time and ‘touched in’ with my Oyster. But, I trotted up to the ‘information point’ on the platform to ascertain the state of play. When I got there, two individuals were inside. They were having a conversation and the one closest the window had his back to me. “When is the next train to Waterloo?” I asked. The response was efficient to say the least, “on the other platform in a moment.” Yet, I was concerned. If the train that was due was scheduled to go ‘via Wimbledon’ and nothing was moving past that place on the Main Line, then how could the train’s onward journey be OK? I responded, “but that train is via Wimbledon, how is it going to get to Waterloo if Wimbledon is out of action?” Both of the SWT employees looked at me as though I was in a dream world. The response was far from encouraging “that next one is fine.” I wasn’t having that, and retorted that I had just come from Surbiton, where nothing was moving. He reiterated that the train that was due would get me to where I wanted to go, and so, I walked over to the other platform to wait for it. I was still very concerned, especially as it seemed that the men in the ‘information point’ didn’t know about what was going on at Wimbledon. There was no “that hasn’t affected our trains” or “we don’t foresee any problems.” No, they seemed that they just wanted to get rid of me so they could continue their chat.

I wandered up the ramp and then another ominous announcement came. “Ladies and Gentlemen, due to a signal failure at Wimbledon we are suffering severe delays. We are not sure if the next train will go any further.” The train rolled in as I reached platform level and stopped. Then it struck me. Was I the person that told them of the signal failures, a fact which they then looked up? I suppose it wasn’t outside the realms of possibility. In fact, the time difference between when I told them and when the announcement was made seemed to me long enough for them to call someone for the relevant information. If this was so, then it was simply shocking. Anyway, I was now faced with another dilemma. If I got on this train I could be stuck on it if it started to move towards Waterloo. That was something I didn’t relish. The alternatives were either to give up and go home, or try one last bid to get to the party from Twickenham. Trains from that place should have been better, as on route to Waterloo they did not go through Wimbledon. I decided to take that option.

On my way out of Kingston station I touched out with my Oyster. I reflected on the fact that, once again, there had been a severe lack of information available. Indeed, 'touching in' and then 'touching out' with my Oyster at the same station, which cost me £1.50, could have been avoided by someone standing in the main station booking hall just informing people, or even just a sign detailing the problems being present. Yet, as I exited, the station was bereft of staff. There were no staff manning the ticket office, and the barriers were open with no one guarding them. Indeed, I sort of realised that the SWT staff at Kingston did know something was up, what other reason could there be for abandoning whole sections of the station? But, the situation was simply not good enough. From the guys in the office, who seemed to know nothing (either that or they did not care), to the lack of information outside the ticket offices, there was nothing to stop 100s of people wasting their money by ‘touching in’ with their Oyster and then going nowhere. Indeed, if the rail companies come down unnecessarily hard on honest people who make mistakes in buying the wrong ticket, then in return they should inform people as to the state of play on days like this so they can avoid paying for journeys they have no hope of making.

On my way out there were a number of people clustered round the information board all looking confused. I informed them of the situation, which was that a train had pulled up; however, it wouldn’t be going anywhere as Wimbledon was out of action. 5 minutes later, and after a lot of good-natured camaraderie, I left to get the bus to Twickenham. While on it, I checked on my phone the National Rail Enquiries website for the status of trains going from Twickenham to Waterloo. The site was not a joyful one to be on. While some trains were still running, clearly most were cancelled. Given my information problems so far, I was curious to see how close to reality this information was.

Passing into Twickenham station I noticed that the barriers were open with no one manning them, that the ticket office was closed and that there was no sign detailing the state of play. Where had everyone gone? Had they abandoned their posts like rats from sinking ships. However, the digital display was showing almost exactly the same information I had seen on the National Rail Enquiries website. What a surprise it was to have accurate information. A train was due, so I touched in and went down to the platform. As it pulled in, I thought long and hard. ‘This could get me to the party.’ But if things were still terrible later, my journey home may also not materialise, leaving me stranded in London. And so, at the very moment I could have achieved my goal, I turned and walked away. It was now about 5.30. I ‘touched out’ with my Oyster, which cost me another £1.50, and went to the pub.

Whose fault was my long journey? As the failures materialised before I started out, I can safely say that SWT were not communicating with their staff effectively. This, therefore, meant that we passengers were out of the loop. From the guard who knew nothing, to the ill-informed staff at Kingston, to the lack of information outside stations, and the lack of staff generally, the state of information provision was truly shocking. I know that because of the geographically spread nature of railways that information moves on it at a slower rate, especially if there is a need to get maintenance crews on-site to diagnose a problem which takes time. But, the fact that the staff at Kingston seemingly didn’t know about the problems at Wimbledon shows that SWT’s information flows had broken down.

On the positive side, the experience showed me that when times are tough and people face adversity together, they do help each other out and band together. Indeed, what it has also showed me is that people understand railway workers’ predicaments and are much calmer when they know what is going on. And while in explaining the situation I evidently gave people bad news, once they had the information as to the state of play they were much less frustrated. I cannot say that throughout railway history information flows for passengers have been much better, and in fact I think that we recieve the most information that any generation of passengers has ever had. But, quite clearly, SWT could keep improve things greatly. The level of service that they gave me yesterday was, simply put, inexcusable.

Wednesday, 1 December 2010

An Important Piece of Railway Stationary - The Guard's Journal

The stationary of Britain’s railways is not the most fascinating subject in isolation. Yet, every piece of paper that the Victorian railway companies did have a purpose and relating stationary to its purpose is, therefore, more interesting. The guards journal was probably one of the most unchanging pieces of stationary in British Railway history, being developed in the industry’s formative years and surviving right through until (at least) the 1960. By virtue of its long life it suggests that they were crucial to the efficient management and operation of Britain’s railways.

The journals were simply pre-printed notebooks in which the guard of a train recorded the details of the journey. The 1853 London and South Western Railway (L&SWR) rule book specified that goods guards were required to note the following details:-

1.The number of Waggons in a Train (loaded and empty) at the beginning of the journey. 
2.The number picked up and left at intermediary stations
3.The supposed and actual times of arrival and departure from stations 
4.Any remarks relating to the journey.
The only variation on this in the Passenger Guards journal was that there was no requirement to record the number of carriages a train.[1]


There is no indication that the basic information recorded in the journals changed up to the 1910s on the L&SWR. A blank version of a Passenger Guard’s Journal from the period (it having inside 191_) required the same information to be recorded as in previous years, but with many additional pieces of evidence. The full list of what had to be entered by gaurds can be found below.

1.Day, Date and Time of Journey
2.Time at which train arrived and departed ‘stations, junctions or signal boxes.’
3.The lateness of the train at each scheduled place.
4.Formation of the train
       a.Description of the Vehicle
       b.Painted Number
       c.Number of Wheels
       d.Block or Set Train Number
5.Vehicles taken on or off the train
6.Engine Number
7.Weather Conditions
8.Driver Name
9.Number of Inches of Vacuum Maintained
10.Name of the Assistant Guard.
11.Service Book Number
12.Special Notice Number
13.Service Number
14.Explanation of Delays, remarks &c[2]
Once again, the only difference with the goods guards’ journals was that the guards still had to record the number of wagons in a train and where wagons were picked up and dropped off.
The importance of the journals came after the journey had been finished. On arrival at the trains destination, the guard would deposit the journal in the office of a senior Traffic Department manager (either the Superintendent of the Line[3], or District Superintendent[4]). The clerks of the office would set to work on them, extrapolating the data contained within.

Senior managers would subsequently receive reports on how efficiently the trains were running, how overloaded with wagons they trains were, how to time the trains were operating, where wagons were dropped and taken on the train, and any occurrences of note that was occurring on particular parts of the network. Subsequently, decisions could be made by them, for example to increase the number of goods trains on a certain line to reduce train loading, build new types of locomotive to increase pulling power, schedule more trains on a particular line, increase or decrease the number staff at stations or yards dependent on the level of traffic coming from them, or notify other departments that repairs to the trains, rolling stock or the line were required.

But the value of the guards’ journals went beyond just aiding the efficiency of the Traffic Department. In 1857 the Locomotive Committee of the L&SWR asked the Traffic Committee (that had charge of the running of the trains through the Traffic Department) if the Locomotive Department could have access to them. They required use of them to ascertain the mileage of all the company’s rolling stock, and subsequently monitor how much it cost the department to maintain carriages and wagons for each mile that they travelled.[5] This was allowed, and the journals were subsequently viewed by Locomotive Department clerks in the Superintendent of the Line’s Office.[6] From the returns that have been seen within other companies, it is suspected that this was a universal industry practice. This enabled senior Locomotive Department managers to see whether it was prudent to replace, rather than renovate, rolling stock, whether to increase the repairs schedule, or attempt to make cost savings in the repairs procedure.

It is, therefore, understandable that the guards’ journal remained central to railway operations for well over 100 years, as they was central to shaping decision makers policies on how the line was operated and its efficiency.

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[1] London School of Economics Library [LSE], HE 3020.L L84, Rules and Regulations for the Guidance of Officers and Servants of the London and South Western Railway Company, 28th April 1853, Rule 24, p.77
[2] Author’s Collection, Blank Passenger Guard’s Journal, 191?
[3] TNA, RAIL 411/178, Locomotive, Carriage and Stores and Locomotive committees, Minute No. 321, 5th November 1857
[4] SWC, London and South Western Railway Appendix to the Book of Rules and Regulations, 1st January 1911, p.140
[5] TNA, RAIL 411/178, Locomotive, Carriage and Stores and Locomotive committees, Minute No. 303, 8th October 1857
[6] TNA, RAIL 411/178, Locomotive, Carriage and Stores and Locomotive committees, Minute No. 321, 5th November 1857

Sunday, 28 November 2010

Overworked and Underpaid - The Hours of Duty of Early Victorian Railway Workers

The early Victorian railway worker was like a tired pack horse who toiled arduous hours for very little reward. In 1839, 30 of the employees of the London to Birmingham Railway complained in a memorial to the directors of ‘lengthened hours of attendance which forbid the enjoyment of either exercise or recreation and preclude them from the society of their wives and children.’ The working week, especially for the manual staff, was usually seven days. Ordinarily there was no time allowed off on Sundays, even if the many of the staff would have wished to go to church, and holidays were never a consideration. Further to this, most railway companies perceived that any time and employee was not spent in an active state was a rest period. Thus, a man may have calculated to be at work for nine hours, but in reality had been on duty for eighteen. Lastly, any overtime was usually unpaid, but refusal to work would have meant dismissal and possible destitution.

It may seem strange to us, but the members of staff who had command of the most safety-critical parts of the network, the signalmen and drivers, were required on many occasions to work hours that even by the standards of the early 1900s would be considered highly dangerous. Frank McKenna, in respect to the long hours of work that drivers had to do, called the system of working a ‘precisely calculated system of exploitation.’ There was not a regulation length working day for drivers, and rather than there being 7 days and 7 nights in a week, there were simply 7 units of operation. Thus, the general rule that there should be 12-hour days was disregarded by the foreman, and shifts of double and treble that period would be insisted on, payment only being provided when the man was considered not able to work further. But, by the 1870s most drivers had had their nominal hours of work per day reduced to 10 hours. Yet, the ‘working day’ was ordinarily linked to the distance that drivers had travelled, and not the time they were on duty. Thus, if they stopped to pick up or drop off wagons on their journey, any rest time in between this would be added to their working day.

The other employees that were in safety-critical positions were the signalmen who controlled the vast array of train movements from their little stone and wooden boxes up and down the network. A letter to the Journal of the Amalgamated Society of Railway Servants outlined the hours of work of one signalman in the 1860s and early 1870s:

‘I myself am a signalman, and have been in the employ of the London, Chatham and Dover company for eleven years next June, during which time I have averaged eighty-four hours per week. As there are only two of us, we relieve each other on Sunday morning at 8.30 am., to enable us to change over from day to night. We remain on duty till 7.30 the following Monday, so to enable us to have twenty-three hours off duty once a fortnight.’

Indeed, the Board of Trade, pointed to the fact that it was the fatigue of the signalmen that was the root cause of many of the serious accidents of the period.

Hours of work were not much better for other grades of railway employee. At the top of the railway class system were the clerks, who had a chance of being promoted into management. Yet, many of those who had not reached such heights had comparable hours to the manual railway workers. One Chief Clerk on the North British Railway complained in 1863 that while the hours of work for Clerks were supposed to be between 9.15 am and 6 pm, the reality was that they could only leave when the work had been completed. Therefore, some clerks had been found still at work at 9 or 10 pm, for which they got no overtime. A Clerk complained to the Railway Service Gazette in 1872 that clerical staff on many occasions worked 10, 12, or even 14 hours a day. However, when they complained to their managers about the lack of extra pay they were directed to the book of rules which stated that they were to ‘do duty when and where required, including Sundays.’

For other grades of employee the hours were no different. A Great Western Railway survey of staff in 1871 showed that of Shunters, Goods Guards, Signalmen, Switchmen & Policemen and Porters (totalling 3,258 staff), per day only 7.2% worked 10 or under hours, 22.8% worked between 10.5 and 11 hours, 66.4% worked between 11.5 and 12 hours, and 3.6% worked over 12 hours. Therefore, while the hours of work for railway employees were less than in the generation before, the 10 hour day was still not a reality for most railway employees by 1871. This said, the GWR’s report may have been misleading if the compiler did not factor in employees’ breaks and stoppages into the working day, and thus, the proportion of those working more than 10 hours per day may have been even higher than was presented.

Progress was slow in improving the situation of railway employees’ hours of work. Indeed, one of the first demands of the newly formed Amalgamated Society of Railway Servants in the 1870swas for them to be uniformly reduced. However, despite this pressure, it wasn’t until 1893 under the ‘Railway Servant’s (Hours of Labour) Act’ that the Government imposed any sort of restriction on the length of time a railway worker could be on duty.

Friday, 26 November 2010

Eight Billion Pounds and Politics, Some Thoughts on Yesterday's Announcement

Yesterday the government announced that it would invest £8 billion in Britain’s railways. To the naked eye it looks like a cornucopia of spending designed to enhance Britain’s desperately strained railway network. We will get 2000 new carriages, completion of the upgrade to Thameslink, which links Bedford and Brighton through London, and the electrification of Great Western lines to Newbury and Oxford, as well as the Liverpool, Manchester, Preston and Blackpool lines. While undoubtedly good news, in reality I have a few worries about the investments.

Firstly, the figure of around 2000 new carriages certainly seems impressive at first glance. But as everyone has been quick to point out, only 650 will be allocated to augment capacity on existing services. Indeed, the rest will go to Crossrail, which as a completely new line will need new trains, and also the Thameslink fleet will be replaced. Further, while the 650 new carriages will apparently be in service by 2014, the Crossrail and Thameslink carriages will not be operational until 2020 when both these projects will be completed. Thus, for many commuters there will be a lot of waiting around for their nice new trains.

Further, there has been no announcement about where the 650 extra carriages not earmarked to Crossrail or Thameslink will be allocated. Anyone who listened to Radio 4’s ‘file on 4’ programme last week will realise that overcrowding on northern commuter routes is far worse than it is on London’s. Indeed, I have been on rush-hour trains that passed through Leeds, Huddersfield, Liverpool and Manchester, and I can vouch for feeling like a sardine. Conversely, I have been a commuter for many years in London, and can say that while the capacity problems are bad, they have never been anywhere near as stifling as my northern experience. Thus, there is a far more desperate need for the new rolling stock to be allocated to the north of England.

Subsequently, where the new carriages will be going is a crucial question. However, I worry that the process of allocation may be open to abuse for political reasons. Will the ‘not-so-Tory’ north get the carriages, or will they be placed on the London commuter routes to ‘blue’ places like Surrey and Berkshire? Given the high level of control that the Department of Transport currently has over rolling stock procurement and allocation, in that they call all the shots, this abuse may be a possibility. Indeed, the reason for the severe overcrowding in the north can historically be put down to the region consistently getting a raw deal in rolling stock allocation. History may, therefore, repeat itself.

Of course, the DfT stated that as well as the new carriages being introduced the 600 new Thameslink ones will release all the stock that is currently used for northern routes. This particularly includes the ‘to-be-electrified’ Manchester, Liverpool, Preston and Blackpool lines, a project which will be completed in 2016. Yet, given that Thameslink will be completed at the end of the decade, it means that these routes will be electrified without a suitable compliment of rolling stock being available until 4 years after the work is been completed. Further, there is no expectation that nationwide passenger growth will slow. As such, it is highly possible that when those trains arrive in the north they will not solve the capacity problem as it will have worsened. Thus, once again, the north will be getting a raw deal in rolling stock terms. But, there is another political issue that concerns me.

I may just be being cynical, but in 2012 the West Coast Main Line franchise is up for renewal and I it is possible that this factored into the DfT announcing the electrification of the Manchester, Liverpool, Preston and Blackpool lines here and now. A major factor in my theory is that two open access train operators, Alliance Rail and Grand Central, have both applied in the last two weeks to run services to Blackpool as there is no direct link from London to that place.

Could it be possible that the Department for Transport saw these new operators as a threat to the value of West Coast franchise which they are about to start the re-tendering process for? Firstly, both Alliance Rail and Grand Central will run trains out of Euston up the West Coast Main Line, which will potentially remove some of the future franchisees’ traffic along the length of the route. Secondly, the current stock that is run on the West Coast Main Line is the Alstom Pendilino, which is electric and cannot currently reach Blackpool. Yet, both Alliance Rail and Grand Central have plans to service that place using diesel traction.

Therefore, is it possible that the DfT announced the electrification to Blackpool so that they could add this route to the new West Coast franchise in the future, in an attempt to see off regional competitors and raise the value of the franchise? If this is the case, it would mean that in the tendering process they wouldn’t have to consider lower the cost of running the franchise for any future operating company, a move which would subsequently affect the DfT's own income, because of the competition diminishing its revenue-generating potential. Admittedly, this is mere speculation, but there it is a possibility.

Overall, while I support the £8 billion of investment, it isn’t without losers and the political aspect of it must always be scrutinised. At the end of the day, if politics is involved in rail investment there is the potential for it to become highly misguided.

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End Note: Isn’t it interesting that Philip Hammond spent yesterday talking about the delivery of new carriages that would ease overcrowding, yet has recently said that the new Pendilino trains, due to arrive soon, cannot be used by Virgin Trains to ease overcrowding on the West coast Main Line and will be stored. Simply madness.


Wednesday, 24 November 2010

The Problem with the Late Victorian British Railway Industry

The declining performance of the British railway industry in the late Victorian period is something that I have referred to repeatedly in my blog, but which I have never fully explained. Indeed, this topic is central to my PhD, which will, hopefully, determine how well the London and South Western Railway was managed between 1870 and 1914. Generally, we know that across this period, while gross railway company profits continued to rise, the profit margin of the industry declined.

Probably the best way to measure this decline is through studying the industry’s the operating ratio. This shows what cost of running the railway industry was as a proportion of its total revenue. Using figures provided by Pollins in Britain’s Railways: An Industrial History, the operating ratio for the British railway industry increased as follows between 1870 and 1902:-

1870 – 48%

1874 – 55%

1878 – 53%

1882 – 52%

1886 – 52%

1890 – 54%

1894 – 56%

1898 – 58%

1902 – 62%

Thus, running Britain’s railways became progressively less profitable and more costly. Thus, historians, mostly writing in the 1960s, 70s and 80s, tried to determine why this was so. Yet, there has not been any consensus on the issue.

On the one hand, many historians have argued that the railway industry’s decreasing profitability was caused by external pressures. Ashworth argued that in the mid-1870's traffic growth occurred in low-margin sectors, such as third class passenger and short-haul bulk goods. Companies were subsequently forced into building new facilities because they were too vulnerable financially and politically to refuse carrying traffic. Further, 'pricing and service policies enforced by government and transport pressure groups,' worsened the companies’ situations after this.[1] Irving added to this, arguing that because the public and politicians saw the railways as a service, and put pressure on them to act in such ways, that the companies tried to preserve their commercial freedoms by increasing the 'quality and supply of transport.' This 'involved disproportionate increases in costs and staff.'[2] Further, in an environment where the cost of labour was rising, expensive railway technology was required by law, and there were proportionately falling charges, this meant that the companies' rates of return fell. [3]

On the other hand, the opposing view is that the railway industry became progressively poorly managed over the period 1870 to 1900. Aldcroft accepted that the industry faced the external pressures cited,[4] however, he charged railway managers with a range of failures such as excess line capacity, corporate empire building, under-utilization of fixed equipment, duplicate facilities[5], a failure to relate prices to costs[6] and poor traffic handling.[7] These factors all forced costs up. Further, Cain argued that 'managerial motives,' such as the appointment of overbearing department heads and corporate empire building, were a factor in the decline in profitability. Yet, his main point was that competition between companies increased costs, subsequently doing the greatest damage profitability.[8]

Lastly, Arnold and McCartney, while rejecting the thesis that the railways built too much infrastructure, argued that the period 1870 to 1914 was one of 'structural stasis' in the industry, where the interests of ordinary shareholders were progressively abandoned. In their opinion there was a 'tacit alliance' between railway directors and senior managers that satisfied the short term interests of 'industrial customers and the state.'[9]

Therefore, the state of play in the literature is that no comprehensive answer has been given to the question of why the railway industry declined in profitability up to 1900. Yet, in that my opinion these studies suffer a sever weakness that hampers their pursuit of an answer. None of these historians looked at what was going within the companies themselves. Rather, these historians only used the financial results of the railway industry to make conclusions about the quality of management. Therefore, in my PhD I hope to look at what was going on within one company, the London and South Western Railway, to determine how the quality of management and decision-making affected the company’s profitability. Hopefully, any answers I find can add to the debate.


[1] Gourvish, T.R., Railways and the British Economy 1830-1914, (London, 1980) p.44

[2] R.J Irving, 'The Profitability and Performance of British Railways 1870-1914', Economic History Review, Vol.31 No.1 (Feb., 1978), pp.55

[3] Irving, 'The Profitability and Performance' , pp.65

[4] Gourvish, Railways, p.44

[5] Aldcroft, British Railways p.11

[6] Aldcroft, British Railways p.18

[7] Aldcroft, British Railways p.19

[8] Cain, P.J. 'Railways 1870-1914: the maturity of the private system', in Freedman, Michael J. and Aldcroft, Derek H. Transport in Victorian Britain, (Manchester, 1988) p.115

[9] A.J. Arnold and S. McCartney, 'Rates of return, concentration levels and strategic change in the British Railway industry 1830-1912', The Journal of Transport History, 25 (2005), pp.57

Sunday, 21 November 2010

My 100th post - Some Highlights from the Past 9 Months

This is, believe it or not, my 100th post on Turnip Rail. In anticipation of this momentous day, I have been reviewing some of my previous posts so that I can provide what I consider to be some of the highlights from the past nine months of blogging.

The Beginning

One of the goals of setting up the Blog was to improve my writing. When I looked back on my first post from the 14th February, which was titled ‘Developing the British Railway Manager’, it showed me how far I have come. I cringe somewhat when I read it because I feel that my writing style has improved by leaps and bounds. I hope that these days I don’t make the simple grammatical errors of the past, and that I have a better (albeit not perfect) handle on when and where to put commas. Anyway, if you really wish to read it, it can be found HERE. I should also mention that in the early days of the blog I wrote much longer posts. However, I soon realised that this was not entertaining, and that shorter posts were much more pleasant for the reader. So, when I direct you to older blog posts below they will be longer in length than my current output.

Current Affairs

I have tried over the last 9 months to cover current railway issues. However, I realise that I have always been hampered by the fact that I cannot be as up to date with them as I would like, given the time constraints of the PhD. However, I do have some favourite posts in this area. I am particularly proud of my 11th June post when I researched and revealed some of the current Secretary of State for Transport’s previous comments on rail transportation, all of which were negative. This post can be found HERE. I have also a soft spot for my Blog post of 12th July, in which I drew links between the Beeching report, the Serpell report, and the current review of railways being undertaken by Sir Roy McNulty. This can be found HERE.

Management

Some of you may be aware that my PhD is about the quality of management on the London and South Western Railway between 1860 and 1914. Thus, this has been a prominent feature of my blog from the outset. Yet, as I realised quickly that some of my core PhD subjects do not make for entertaining reading, I have recently tried my best to only occasionally touch on the history of railway management. This said, there are some posts I feel are worth mentioning. My post on ‘Early Railway Administrators...The Good, the Bad and the Shiny’ of 15th May, looked at some of the more interesting railway managers of the early years of the British railway industry. They had a range of different backgrounds and did not always behave well. It can be found HERE. In August, I discussed the Feltham Marshalling Yard, and explained how, firstly, it was the original inspiration for my PhD, but also how it was a major investment decision for the L&SWR at a critical moment in railway history (Found HERE). Lastly, there was my post from the 3rd May on Viscount Pirrie, a board member of the L&SWR. He had many other directorships that allowed the L&SWR to gain a link with the other companies at which he was a director. Ultimately, however, Pirrie’s L&SWR directorship allowed him to benefit his own business empire by influencing the L&SWR’s policy. While my research on this subject has moved on, and there is more that could be said on this subject, you can read the post HERE.

Staffing Issues

I have recently become aware of how human stories can be of great interest to people. I have, therefore, recently written more posts on railway employees. In my post of the 18th February I wrote about the editors of the L&SWR’s staff magazine, and how their positions within the company affected the content of the publication. (Found HERE). More recently, I wrote about ‘Crime and Punishment’ in the Victorian railway industry, and how the rules that the Victorian railway companies imposed on their employees were harsh, but the consequences of infringement may have been harsher. This can be found HERE.

Women

I have always been interested in the way that women were treated by railway companies, both as employees or as part of railway worker’s families. Therefore, I was particularly saddened by the story of Mary Ramsdale. She was widowed when her husband died while working on the railways and subsequently suffered a decline in her mental health. This had devastating effects for the family. Her story was detailed HERE. On the whole, however, I have focussed on Victorian Britain’s female railway workers. In my post of the 3rd of September I covered the ‘Hidden History of Britain’s Railwaywomen,’ as I have always been acutely aware that women’s history has frequently overlooked by historians. Thus, I gave some examples of potential areas of research, and commented on what needs to be done to discover more about Britain’s railwaywomen. (Found HERE).

Academic Issues

Because I am doing a PhD it has meant that on occasion I have written about the highs and lows of this process, as well as some of the day-to-day thoughts I have regarding research. In September I posted what would become my most read blog post, in which discussed how the processes of research had been changed by technology over the last decade (Found HERE). On the 26th of February I discussed how strands of academic thought can lead researchers into unnecessary hunts for information, simply because they have a mystery they wish to solve. I detailed my own research on Albinus Martin, and told of how I became obsessed with finding information on him. Yet, this hunt had no particular value for my PhD, and it took me a while to realise this. This post can be found HERE.

I have not been able to list everything that I have written, but an index of all my blog posts can always be found at my main Turniprail website. Just click on 'Blog' on the left hand side and it will reveal a link to an index.

Thanks

Over the last 100 posts I have, on many occasions, wanted to give up. However, through much support and encouragement I have been egged on to keep going by many friends and colleagues. I now wish to thank some of these individuals. Firstly, thanks must go to Dr Terry Gourvish (LSE) and Dr Roy Edwards (University of Southampton), who over a few pints suggested that I undertake a venture of this nature. I also wish to thank Matthew Snelling, Louise McCudden and Jon Cranfield, my closest friends, who have always supported my blog and have been willing to put up with me babbling about it. I wish to thank Peter Sutton and Dr Kevin Tennent (Open University), who have also regularly interacted with me about the blog and shared ideas. I also want to thank Sophie Collard and Jools Stone, who I met on Twitter. They have helped me immensely, firstly by re-tweeting my tweets, and secondly by allowing me to become a guest on their blogs.

Of course, I have missed out mentioning many individuals who deserve thanks, but, lastly, I must thank you, the readers of the blog. I do hope that you have enjoyed it so far. Please keep reading, spreading the word and making suggestions, without your help it cannot be a success.

David

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