DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.42346#0058
4 6
THE NEW COMPETITION
tices of individuals, we take an inventory of and frankly
acknowledge our own shortcomings.
For instance, when the employees of the American
Sugar Refining Company were found guilty of smuggling
large quantities of sugar by tampering with the scales a
great cry went up against the “trust,” and, by induction, so
to speak, against all trusts, as if cheating the government
by smuggling was a new offense devised and practiced only
by them.
The records of the custom house show that smuggling is
the pet failing of American citizens who cross the borders.
From time immemorial people have felt at liberty to “beat
the customs” if they could.
All the sugar smuggled by the trust in a year probably
does not equal in value articles smuggled into New York
every six months by our “best people,” by families, by
children, by rich and poor, by high officials. The practice
is notorious. In the year ending June 30, 1911, the
United States District Attorney in the City of New York
instituted seventy-four prosecutions and collected over two
millions of dollars in fines and duties on smuggled goods.
Not a day passes that the customs officials do not discover
goods people “failed to declare,” and collect the duties
without prosecution; yet, with all their vigilance, probably
nine travelers out of ten get by with dutiable goods that
escape observation.
It would be easy to take up every specific charge made
against a trust or large corporation and trace its origin to
practices of individuals and small firms, practices that, in
the case of individuals, are often looked upon by the trade
as “shrewd” or “sharp,” and, on the whole, rather cred-
itable. Many a laudatory funeral sermon is preached over
an unconscionable rascal.1
1 In this connection Herbert Spencer’s essay on “The Morals of
Trade,” though written half a century ago, is timely reading.
THE NEW COMPETITION
tices of individuals, we take an inventory of and frankly
acknowledge our own shortcomings.
For instance, when the employees of the American
Sugar Refining Company were found guilty of smuggling
large quantities of sugar by tampering with the scales a
great cry went up against the “trust,” and, by induction, so
to speak, against all trusts, as if cheating the government
by smuggling was a new offense devised and practiced only
by them.
The records of the custom house show that smuggling is
the pet failing of American citizens who cross the borders.
From time immemorial people have felt at liberty to “beat
the customs” if they could.
All the sugar smuggled by the trust in a year probably
does not equal in value articles smuggled into New York
every six months by our “best people,” by families, by
children, by rich and poor, by high officials. The practice
is notorious. In the year ending June 30, 1911, the
United States District Attorney in the City of New York
instituted seventy-four prosecutions and collected over two
millions of dollars in fines and duties on smuggled goods.
Not a day passes that the customs officials do not discover
goods people “failed to declare,” and collect the duties
without prosecution; yet, with all their vigilance, probably
nine travelers out of ten get by with dutiable goods that
escape observation.
It would be easy to take up every specific charge made
against a trust or large corporation and trace its origin to
practices of individuals and small firms, practices that, in
the case of individuals, are often looked upon by the trade
as “shrewd” or “sharp,” and, on the whole, rather cred-
itable. Many a laudatory funeral sermon is preached over
an unconscionable rascal.1
1 In this connection Herbert Spencer’s essay on “The Morals of
Trade,” though written half a century ago, is timely reading.