NINANCIAL distress in an agricultural section, accord

F

ing to the best political tradition, is the forerunner of an organized uprising intended to bring about prosperity. The eloquent agitator who presents an alleged panacea to be won at the polls finds eager listeners. The movement may take the form of a new party, an action fraught with danger to all existing political organizations; or it may mean only an upheaval within estabElished lines. In the '90's farm depression was translated into new party action, landing in Western State Legislatures and in Congress sockless statesmen long on soul-thrilling perorations but short on constructive economics.

There are two opinions, both quite positive and both widely held, as to whether the Middle West is in political revolt. Mr. Harger, a newspaper publisher in the critical country, believes that it is not, and gives here the reasons for the faith that is in him. Since he wrote the McNary-Haugen Bill has been vetoed and an army of protesting farmers has been recruited from fourteen States to march upon Kansas City.

The question is still open, though perhaps in need of redefinition.

Bryanesque Moses who could crystallize the widespread agrarian dejection into political action was calculated to induce headaches and nervous chills.

If you consider the tier of States reaching from Oklahoma to North Dakota, adding Minnesota, Iowa, and Missouri on the east and Montana on the northwest, you include the area where for seven years has existed the most severe depression of the farm country. Here, since 1920, 1,782 banks have

failed, each with its own contribution of local disturbance; of its 1,354,843 farms the Census of 1925 reported 410,072 owner-operator farms mortgaged 23,034 more than in 1910. Loaning companies have hundreds of farms taken under foreclosure. The "farmer's dollar," a term not exactly clear to the agriculturist, worth only 62 cents in purchasing power in 1921, had barely reached 85 cents in the winter of 1928. "Frozen loans," meaning notes uncollectable, have burdened financial institutions.

All these seven years the farmer has experienced what was in effect an unbalanced relation between agriculture and industry. The price of things he had to buy did not come down as rapidly as the things he had to sell. When he had met his necessary expenses, he had little left for his debts. Most farmers were borrowers either at their bank or in long-term loans on their land. The latter class is less numerous than is generally supposed. The Census shows that nearly one-half million farms in the States named are clear of incumbrance. Naturally, there was a demand that something be done for "farm relief," a popular phrase term embracing every kind of legislation claiming to ameliorate undesirable conditions.

For a time the Non-Partisan League gave cause for alarm. It had started some years earlier, gained control of North Dakota, and aggressively was pushing its propaganda southward as far as Kansas. From more than 100,000 members it garnered a full war chestand thereby came its fall. Its leaders, gorged with importance and expense accounts, centered their drive on. dues rather than on relief for the producer. Its financial schemes collapsed, and this political cloud vanished into thin air. No other political movement attained enough prominence to bring uneasi

Underwood & Underwood

'Power farming is taking the place of the mule and the horse "

a forceful crusader or a plausible platform might even yet gain followers. But the Western farmer has progressed far in understanding since the days of Populism. The daily paper delivered every morning at his home, the radio broadcasting the utterances of sound economists, the telephone, and the motor car have broadened his horizon. He may be led only after he is convinced.

This altered mental attitude has come not only from the producer's wider vision, but from his greater familiarity with the financial operations of everyday life. For instance, he became a stockholder in a farmers' store, fondly believing that it would absorb the business of the town. Mostly he found that business had its own troubles, and failure resulted. He was a stockholder in his rural bank, seeing therein much prestige and probable profits. Frequently the bank; lacking real banker management, could not collect its loans, and he gained an understanding of the difficulties of financial institutions. He voted for public improvements schoolhouses, hard-surfaced roads, a new court-house. When his tax bill came, he could understand why tax increases had become burdensome. Farmers elected to the State Assemblies found that even with working majorities the task of legislating prosperity had difficulties far more serious than had been imagined. To be sure, some yet think it possible to create wealth by statute, but generally it is a

well-defined opinion that the ultimate solution of the farmer's problem must come through gradual operation of economic law.

Another thing. The failure of radical experiments undertaken in some of the States are familiar to the farmer. He knows the history of North Dakota's State-owned mills, elevators, bank, and elaborate farm loan system; of South Dakota's land loan plan by which some $45,000,000 was loaned so recklessly that the State has hundreds of farms taken under foreclosure; of the collapsed bank guaranty schemes of Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and the Dakotas, all abandoned with losses reaching into millions of dollars. His faith in the potency of State ownership and State management of business has been shattered by the experience of commonwealths led into that path by eager theorists. He may be disposed to blame somebody for his own bad fortune-a most natural tendency-but he is chary of inviting trouble by launching radical experiments for which, if unsuccessful, he will have

to pay.

T

HIS psychological change has been intensified by the experience of war-time investing. The average farmer -and most small business men, for that matter-of the interior had never bought a bond or similar security until the Liberty Loan campaigns. So generous was the response from the rural

sections that in practically every home town and country-there was some evidence of sound investment. Not all were paid for at the time, but eventually was taught the lesson of thrift-that money can be made to work for the individual as well as for the banker. Following that experience came the expansion of public utilities. Local and municipal ownership of light plants, telephone companies, etc., because of the rising cost of operation, gave way to extensive systems each serving hundreds of communities and disposing of stocks and other securities under the customerownership plan. When a corporation scatters its securities among thousands of small investors, it thereby establishes a state of mind conducive to political conservatism.

Generally overlooked in discussion of the farm problem is the substitution of constructive agriculture for tireless debate on theoretical economics. The producer has been given something to think about. The group meeting in the rural schoolhouse or in the town hall thirty years ago was political-there was no other subject available. Largely it was devoted to denunciation of Wall Street and the machinations of the capitalists. If any plan for betterment of conditions was proposed, it took the form of advo cacy of changes in the currency, confiscation of wealth through some form of special taxation, elaborate plans for postponing the payment of debts, or similar suggestion. The producer held the view that if he were to advance it must be by means of some agency outside himself which was to do something for him.

Today the farmer meeting has to do with better crop methods, with improved live stock, with seed purity, greater yields, and elimination of costs. In 2,084 counties of the Nation there are farm agents, paid partly by the Government, partly by the State, and partly by local members of the farm bureau. The agent is not an apostle with a message, but an educated analyst who assists the farmer to determine what is most efficient in practice and marketing. He gives the producer subject for thought and in his itinerancy visits the farm for personal inspection. Power farming is taking the place of the mule and horse. A harvesting machine, the "combine," cuts and threshes as it moves over the field, doing the work of ten menthe producer tills in comfort and harvests with efficiency. He has more conveniences and pleasanter surroundings

S

To

than any farmer in the history of the

world.

The one-crop farmer-the wheat farmer, for instance- can plant and harvest his season's crop in eight weeks of field labor. When he had ten months in which to meditate on his grievances, he naturally turned to discussion of government. The effort to turn the farm into a twelve-month factory, sponsored and forwarded by the farm agent and the agricultural colleges, leads him to put less faith in legislation and more in scientific agriculture. To be sure, there is a long way yet to go. The one-crop farmer still exists; the abiding confidence in the ability of lawmakers to create some mysterious financial machinery that automatically will dispense prosperity lurks in some minds.

PASSI

ASSING of the rambling political talkfest does not mean that community problems are not discussed when farmers foregather. For instance, co-operative marketing-held by most progressive producers as the next forward step to come in agriculture. Stabilization of prices would, they declare, cure most of the present ills-or at least set a clear path for returning to normal conditions.

The McNary-Haugen Bill, recently vetoed, probably comes nearer being an issue for the producers than any measure in recent years. While its provisions are E perhaps not clearly visualized by the average Western producer, it is pictured as having a promise of a stabilized market; hence its appeal to the man in debt I who sees each year his meager profits spent in necessities, with little left to liquidate his obligations. Around this one problem of debt-paying has centered the discouragement of those who borrowed unwisely. The fact that they had plenty of company in business and in industry does not mitigate the individual situation.

Perfectly rational explanations are given of the financial debacles of the past seven years. State banking departments point out that 8,675 banks in the area described have passed through the period of deflation with their strength unimpaired. Most of the banks that failed did so because there were too many banks for a community's support, or they were managed by men who were not experienced in banking. The farmer who in war times, dazzled by high prices for products, coveted all the land that adjoined his farm, regardless of its inflated value, was the one who suffered most when came a lowered price level.

met

The promoter of a political revolt finds himself confronted by several definite obstacles. First is the inertia of those who have kept out of debt and have laid aside some savings in sound securities. They are not disposed to rock the boat. Then he must convince a large percentage of those who have with financial difficulties but through economy and improved methods are steadily gaining ground. This class has learned lessons that it believes eventually will establish its feet on firm financial ground. Unconsciously, the farmer has absorbed a philosophy of successful procedure that does not in-clude legislation or extraneous aid. Next is the younger generation, which must be taken into account. Western universities and agricultural colleges have more than doubled their enrollments in the past seven years; higher education has become a fashion for the farm boy and farm girl as well as for those of the towns. The thousands of young men and young women graduated from college are not to be swept off their feet by the political agitator. They may beand many of them are-independent in politics, but they have too broad a vision to accept a doctrine of sectionalism.

The old-time theory that the West can prosper without National prosperity receives small credence from the betterinformed citizen of the farm country. Further, he includes in his vision a world outlook, something to which in settlement days he gave no thought.

Western Legislatures usually have had a preponderance of farmers in one house. or both; farmer governors have been elected frequently. Yet all these seven years the trend of legislation has been conservative. Education, good roads, welfare, have been the dominant issues, and liberal has been their treatment. While rail rates have come under discussion and the producer is apt to feel that he pays too much freight, he realizes that never before has he had so complete a service, and he wants this to continue. His looking at affairs from the business rather than from the political angle considerably modifies tradition, for building a revolt when a large part of the citizenry is imbued with hope is a most baffling task.

Nor is the lesser eruption much more likely. The Coolidge doctrine of economy has fitted perfectly into the new financial structure of the farm country; it is the sort of thing it has itself been trying to do. Regardless of the veto of the only farm relief measure evolved by: the West, confidence in the businesslike. management of Government is unshaken. Influenced by personalities or local complications, minor upsets may occur. at the approaching election; but as a whole the interior, confident that it is gaining ground financially and socially, is disposed toward things as they are.

With so great established possessions at stake, with betterment apparent as each year goes by, with its intelligent grasp on the principles of sound business, the West-barring some cataclysm that changes the political landscape materially-is not going to revolt.

U

NTIL concern suddenly developed for the safety of Nobile and his comrades we had almost grown to feel that the Arctic was immune from the tragedies that beset flying nearer home. There had been 300,000 miles of commercial flights in Alaska, a good deal of it north of the Arctic Circle, and not one serious accident. The Wilkins-Eielson expeditions alone had flown more than 10,000 miles over American Arctic mountains and Arctic prairies, and their only mishap was one broken arm. On the European side, Amundsen and Ellsworth had flown 1,400 miles, and their only difficulty had been after landing with two planes in a lead in the Arctic pack, when they were able to take off with only one of them. But that one carried the full personnel safely home. Byrd had flown over 5,000 miles around northwest Greenland with no mishap of consequence, and then he and Bennett had flown to the North Pole and back, 1,600 miles of perfect performance, both human and mechanical,

These flights had all been by planes mounted on wheels, floats, or skis. By dirigible Amundsen, Ellsworth, and Nobile had flown from Rome in Italy to Nome in Alaska, with some moderately serious difficulties in Europe before they entered the Arctic and in Alaska after they left the Arctic, but without troubles in the Arctic itself.

In spite of the complete safety of all past flights, we were bound to have an uneasy feeling whenever a new flier took wing through the polar skies. For such freedom from tragedy in an occupation dangerous in every other part of the world could not last forever in the Arctic, granting even that the flying conditions there are, on the average, a good deal simpler and safer than in our socalled temperate zone.

The great advantage of Arctic lands for flying is the comparatively large number of good natural landing-places. These result from the permanently frozen subsoil that permits no underground drainage and produces innumerable lakes, great and small, on which a flyingboat can always land in summer when there is water, and an airplane on skids in winter when they are frozen over.

The polar sea, too, has corresponding advantages. On no other ocean is there a reasonable chance that an airplane can

By

VILHJALMUR STEFANSSON

The author of this discussion of General Nobile's ill-fated expedition and the problems faced by him and others who have attempted to conquer the Arctic speaks with authority. Mr. Stefansson has made numerous trips of exploration to the North and has spent much time among the Eskimos.

This is the first of the monthly papers he will write for us on varied subjects.

take off again if it once comes down. In the Pacific or the Atlantic, after a forced landing, you are either rescued or you are drowned. There are vague plans for anchoring a few artificial landing-floats along a line crossing the ocean between Newfoundland and Ireland. That trouble and expense are not necessary on the Arctic Sea, where nature has provided millions of ice-field landing-places scattered everywhere. They are not as level as the artificial floats will be, but they are a marvelous safety device for fliers, nevertheless, when compared with any provision that nature has made in any of the other seas of the world.

A test of the natural landing-floats of the Arctic came on March 29, 1927, when Wilkins and Eielson took off from Point Barrow, the north tip of Alaska, 300 miles inside the Arctic Circle, and flew northwest. They had flown more than 500 miles from land and more than 400 miles beyond the limit of previous exploration when their engine stopped. Gliding, with only a few moments in which to choose a spot, they came down to the first landing ever made on the Arctic pack, and it was a perfect landing. They repaired the engine, took a sounding which showed the ocean to be three miles deep beneath the three-foot thickness of ice they had landed on.

The first take-off from Arctic pack ice proved easy. So did the second forced landing; but not the second take-off, for soft snow had begun to fall. But they got into the air at the fourth attempt, flew till darkness settled, and, their fuel exhausted, came down for a third forced landing in the combined dark of snowstorm and night. Then they waited five days for the weather to settle, and walked ashore thereafter 100 miles in

eighteen days. That performance gave us such faith in the Arctic as we have in no other ocean.

BUT

UT even with its superiority over other flying areas, the Arctic is a frontier territory with no machine shops or rescue stations, and is not as safe now as it will be hereafter. The world would have thrilled with suspense, therefore, had it known on April 15, 1928, that Wilkins and Eielson had taken off from Point Barrow for a 2,200-mile flight, most of it across territory never seen by man and with their goal a treacherous little group of islands, Spitsbergen, an infinitesimally small target at a 2,000mile range, and a dangerous landingplace even if it could be found.

Spitsbergen has become a flying center, and will remain so. But only because of one qualification: It is strategically located with regard to Europe and with regard to the most cultivated of our oceans, the North Atlantic.

In several ways Spitsbergen is about as dangerous a flying center as any in the world. the world. To begin with, it is not in the Arctic physically, but only mathematically. It has few of the Arctic advantages. Because of the Gulf Stream, it is really in the North Atlantic, and subject to every type of Atlantic danger and drawback. Because of mountains, and because there are glaciers in the mountains, fogs are created whenever a warm sea wind blows across them. These fogs are likely to cover the adjacent waters, too. Another source of fog is the meeting of the southward drifting Arctic ice and the northward flowing warm waters that come from the Gulf Stream.

A forced landing on the Spitsbergen Islands themselves, therefore, frequently means a landing in fog or storm, as was the case when Wilkins and Eielson came from Alaska and were able to discover a safe patch of deserted island, through a combination of rare luck and their own uncommon skill. Had their fuel failed them just before reaching land, they might have come down in water, to be drowned almost at once. Or they might have landed on a cake of ice that was drifting south to meet the Gulf Stream, where it would melt away, such a landing therefore merely postponing a death by drowning. Had they been flying carelessly at only a moderate altitude, they