The Power of Priorities

Last week a veil was suddenly clawed away, and the U.S. got a quick, bewildering look at a desperate moment in the struggle for the most important place of control of the national economy: the power of making and enforcing priorities which will inevitably mean life & death to whole industries.

Until last week, World War IPs priorities operations had been divided and subdivided. In the Office of Production Management, priorities were theoretically managed by Edward P. Stettinius as priorities chief in charge of raw materials and commodity production; and certainly affected by Donald M. Nelson as procurement chief; Leon Henderson through price controls; John D. Biggers through processing Awhile the Interstate Commerce and Maritime Commissions supervised delivery priorities; the Bituminous Coal Division, Federal Trade and Federal Power Commissions all had dabbling hands.

Over all the Army and Navy Munitions Board stood, exercising military priority rights. And at the President's side Harry Hopkins worked as liaison man with the British, again affecting priorities. In the background stood Bernard M. Baruch, the single chief of priorities in World War I, warning with the voice of experience that single control was essential if the U.S. is to be successfully armed.

Into this tableau of confusion, uncertainty and division struck the House of Representatives last week. They saw the mess and, with unerring Congressional instinct, charged into it. They did so in an attempt to forestall a gradual liquidation of Washington's defense $1-a-yearlings, and their replacement by New Dealers. They had already seen that at point after point power over priorities was going back to the New Dealers, and away from the businessmen and the conservative military high command.

The Congressional point of attack was a measure sought by the Administration, to give the President statutory powers over many industrial fields in which he now has only the powers of persuasion, as exercised by the Priorities Director, now Stettinius. So far the Administration has only had legal powers in Army and Navy contracts, but lacked mandatory priority power over contracts of the British and other foreign governments under the Lend-Lease Act, over industrial contracts for the expansion of production of scarce but vital materials, over other Federal bureau contracts (Maritime Commission, Panama Canal, etc.).

Two men worked fast: industry's self-appointed House watchdog, bellicose Representative Eugene ("Goober") Cox of Camilla, Ga.; and bumbling Representative Carl Vinson of Milledgeville, Ga., self-appointed watchdog of the interests of the Navy's high command. Together they suddenly proposed an amendment which was designed to freeze the old and new priorities powers under OPM's Stettinius; give official status to committees of industry, and make all priority rulings finally subject to approval by the Army and Navy Munitions Board. Further: to warn against the probable coming ouster of Stettinius. appointment of anyone as Priorities Director would be subject to confirmation by the Senate.

Working smoothly together, the two presented the amendment to the House as a way in which Congress could keep a checkrein of control over a legislatively established office wielding vast powers. Weary of government by executive order, the House adopted the amendment with a practically unanimous whoop, passed the bill, sent it to the Senate.

On the sidelines, wryly watching was Speaker Samuel Taliaferro Rayburn. Under the rules of the House he could not preside during the debate (in committee of the whole) and the entire action was taken before loyal but fumbling Majority Leader John McCormack awoke. It was a sad jolt to the 59-year-old shrewd, bald Speaker, serving his 15th term in Congress, master of the House's countless rules and 11,000 precedents, who succeeded far better than his immediate predecessors in smoothing the path of legislation through Congress, had even got the President to consult Congress before, not after, proposing legislation. Last week he controlled his disgust and patiently noted: "It was put over while the House was asleep."

The situation was beyond Rayburn's own firm grasp. The bill had gone to the Senate, and the fight would have to come out in the open. The pot sizzled; the Administration rolled up its sleeves for a catch-as-catch-can tussle with a Senate which has long been itching to get its fingers into defense. Already the Senate was awakening to the beautiful possibilities of the Cox amendment. In Government offices downtown there was wrath and dismay; even earnest Mr. Stettinius came out against the amendment. The mess was in a fair way to get messier be fore it was cleaned up. A struggle for power was on.

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