Here's an entry I found in "The New American Desk Encyclopedia," a paperback I picked up recently at Border's for about $1.50. I highly recommend it for avoiding Foot- in-Mouth Disease (along with another paperback, Oxford U's "Concise Science Dictionary," which will set you back eleven dollars, but get you years ahead in science). SHERMAN ANTITRUST ACT (1890), first major federal action to curb the power of the giant business MONOPOLIES [a cross-reference] which grew up after the Civil War. Its failure to define key terms, such as "trust," "combination," and "restraint of trade," led to loopholes, and it was strengthened by the CLAYTON ANTITRUST ACT (1914). As I understand it, what grated on the people's nerves was the way a few rich people not only got their way with Congress (J. P. Morgan, for instance, got a square mile of real estate for every mile of track he laid, even though he did it with other people's money, and received generous bribes and political clout by routing it through some towns at the expense of others), but worst of all, they intentionally forced all their competitors into bankruptcy, so they could charge as much as they wanted in the markets they monopolized. That restrained trade, which is what the law is all about. It's a far cry from openly discussing your fees, or trying to be the best at whatever you do. Price-fixing is related, and also wrong -- sometimes illegal -- but otherwise very different. I remember seeing a little PTG "calculator" around 1970, giving estimates of how long various jobs took, on the average, to the tenths of hours. It was clear that if one took the various suggestions literally, that would pretty much tell you what to charge. In the political climate of the times, that was bordering on totalitarianism. For example, it was common for every tuner in a town to charge the same fee for a "fine" tuning, two thirds of which would then be the hourly labor rate. There was near- universal agreement on the numbers in the "calculator," and on how much it cost to operate a car, and so on; in short, how much to charge for everything -- and any variance was sure to raise eyebrows. I think you'll find auto mechanics much more conversant with these issues, as they were (and still are) facing much more competition; the rate books are commonplace, and the public is largely blind to the fact that their work, like ours, is an art, somewhat unpredictable, and highly dependent on hard-learned skills. The reason I (and perhaps half the tuners and technicians in America) don't join the guild is strictly a philosophical one. I like our American freedoms, and don't like large, powerful organizations, which by their very nature, encourage authoritarian decision-making, by people who grow increasingly sure of themselves -- the perfect formula for stifling progress and the free exchange of ideas, and contrary to the spirit of invention which inspired Cristofori and his successors. Similarly, though I appreciate the contributions piano technicians make, and share, I have to draw the line when the PTG legislates its own morality, enforcing it with penalties, and decides who is competent, based on its own technology (which I have seen swing to one extreme after another, though always perfect). No, thanks! My father was the president of one guild (AGVA, the American Guild of Variety Artists), and Ronald Reagan of another (SAG, the Screen Actors Guild). (By the way, these guilds do fix prices -- legally. All their members work at least for "scale," which is enough to ensure that they often can't find work.) Aside from advancing their arts and setting up retirement homes (two excellent works!), they don't seem to do much good, and they have the potential for doing immense harm. My father's guild fought hard to protect Broadway from the House Un-American Affairs Committee, while Reagan's capitulated. In Congress, the public witnessed a melee of witch-hunting in which many innocent people (mostly in Hollywood) lost everything they held dear, often simply because they were born in Eastern Europe, or went to a lecture, or disapproved of war, or antagonized the wrong person. It was an ideal opportunity for any one with an ax to grind, or a rap to beat (and a shortage of morality) to stab their enemies in the back, under the guise of patriotism. I find particularly disturbing the notion of closing off our art by legislation, licensing, etc. Such atrocities have corrupted many professions: the law, medicine, nursing, education, business.... Here in Florida, it's almost impossible to find a form of self-employment for which there isn't an accrediting or licensing authority, and the licensees regard themselves as an elite, and have little trouble getting the legislature to regulate and enforce their establishment, ostensibly to protect the public, while mongering fears of frauds and con artists. The rewards are tempting for those who will be "grandfathered in," and the future consequences are all too vague, however dire. Is it any wonder that today, reputations count for nothing, and people go to college (of all places!) to prepare for careers in acting, dancing, singing, music, painting, etc.? My father also had a seat on the New York Stock Exchange, where millions of dollars changed hands without so much as a handshake, or even a word; one's reputation was everything. He wanted me to learn the ropes the old-fashioned way, by working as a page. But by the time I reached the starting age of fourteen, one needed a college education to join, reputations were little regarded, and the era of lawlessness on Wall Street was already breaking out. Most of the floor traders weren't members, but employees, with no more at stake than a job, and what had been a very prestigious vocation, full of honor and philanthropy (yes, philanthropy!) was looking more like a fast track to superwealth for millionaires' sons. I told him I didn't want the seat, and to me the very word "business" still sounds a bit disreputable. Marshall Price d021317c@dcfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us
This PTG archive page provided courtesy of Moy Piano Service, LLC