Sett Cotton
People often call the United States the land of opportunity.
Unlike Europe, where the wall of the class system is absolute, America offers even the most ignorant bumpkin a chance to rise to the top if they play their cards right.
Of course, that’s just talk; in reality, almost no immigrants ever truly achieved such an American Dream.
But the signs were slowly beginning to show, and Carnegie was certain that he was the very talent destined to become the symbol of that dream.
Everything was flowing according to plan, and the situation could not have been better.
With the political scene in total chaos due to the unprecedented event of a president stepping down, no one was paying attention to a man like him growing his company.
Furthermore, thanks to the aftermath of the economic panic sweeping the North, it had become possible to acquire relatively sound companies with guaranteed future value for pennies on the dollar.
That wasn't all. Because of the economic panic, if there were any guys who didn't listen, he could just slip some money to the Pinkertons to have them "take care of it," and it would all blow over without any fuss.
He had steadily grown the scale of his logistics company in this manner, and he planned to present a major investment proposal to Sett based on these results.
A groundbreaking invention that could fundamentally change the American steel industry.
If he could quickly introduce the Bessemer converter, recently developed in England, to the United States, he could secure an incomparable advantage in the steel industry.
Of course, pulling this off would require massive capital, making Sett's cooperation essential, and he was currently devising a plan to persuade him based on the performance he had achieved.
The only thing he didn't like was the goody-two-shoes standing right in front of him.
“Did you get a call, too?”
“Did I? I think you’re mistaken. This call is for me; you’re just the side dish. The boss has shown strong interest in my investment proposal.”
“Hmph, I bet he has. I heard you used Pinkerton thugs to smash up a factory last week. How long do you intend to live like that? If you’re a Christian who goes to church, you should follow the words of Jesus...”
“There you go again. I honestly can’t understand what you’re talking about.”
He had merely gone through a ‘negotiation’ with an idiot who couldn't grasp reality and demanded an absurd price, yet he was being slandered like this.
As expected, this goody-two-shoes he disliked so much was still as incompatible with him as ever, to the point of being annoying.
Above all, it was absurd that even though he worked in a way so detached from reality, the growth rate of the department he managed wasn't much different from his own.
“Well, this unpleasant feeling will only last until this year. Once I get the approval to introduce it, I’ll show you what a true steel empire is.”
“Dreaming is free, but I hope you don't end up in a jail cell while doing it.”
“Jail? There isn't a shred of evidence that I ordered it, so why would I go to prison?”
Ignoring Rockefeller, who kept spewing irritating remarks until the end, Carnegie racked his brain trying to figure out why President James had called him.
He could have just exchanged simple work instructions or reports by mail as they usually did, so why insist on him coming in person?
Even that Rockefeller guy he disliked was called.
After getting off at the landing and taking a carriage to the plantation entrance, he clicked his tongue at the sight of the plantation's main gate and guard towers, which remained as grand and imposing as ever.
“How come the security here feels like it’s getting tighter and tighter?”
“...I suppose so. Carnegie, does that Pinkerton person you meet also set up guards like this?”
“No way. In my opinion, only the White House could compare to this.”
Unable to suppress their curiosity at the sight of the plantation, which had begun to change once again in just a few months, the two looked around as they headed inside.
And before long, seeing a familiar face, they waved and greeted him.
“Ben! It’s been a while. Is the boss inside?”
“Yes. You’ve arrived a bit earlier than expected. The master is in his office right now.”
“Where are you headed, by the way?”
“I’m on my way to inspect the armory to ensure it’s being managed properly. I’ve received the position of Head of Security...”
“What? Head of what?”
As far as he knew, he was the senior foreman on the plantation, so did he get such a grand title in the meantime?
“Ah, it’s not official. To be precise, it is official, but it’s an internal rank, so it’s a bit complicated.”
“Internal rank? What on earth are you talking about...”
“The master will likely explain it. It seems that’s why he called the two of you.”
Carnegie and Rockefeller walked toward the large mansion, failing to understand the current situation at all.
They heard slaves, who were far more numerous than before, moving about, and someone mentioning something about Jonathan, the head overseer, being the 'Head of Operations' or something similar.
Head of Operations? What was that supposed to mean?
Wasn't this a plantation?
The two men's questions were only deepening, not being resolved.
***
Cotton monopoly.
It’s only four syllables in a word, but it’s not as simple as the story suggests.
The scale of the Southern cotton industry was, quite literally, massive enough to feed an entire region.
And it would continue to grow until this industry was replaced by mechanized farming.
To put it bluntly, monopolizing this industry is absolutely impossible for a typical plantation.
Unless it’s a super-conglomerate with thousands or tens of thousands of employees under its wing, one couldn't even attempt it.
So, what must be done?
Naturally, one must break away from the existing large-scale plantation model and prepare to be reborn as a super-conglomerate.
However, having rolled and tumbled in a 21st-century corporate HR team, I knew very well how complex the structure of such a corporation was.
Of course, if it were just a haphazard operation like most companies in this era, it wouldn't matter if I did it roughly.
Even if I did that, I could be reborn as a much larger plantation corporation in Mississippi after the war, but that’s not all I’m aiming for, is it?
“So, have you internalized the current situation?”
“...I understand. You’re saying the war will break out within two years, so I should truly finish all preparations now.”
“And what we saw on our way here was a pilot exercise to completely revamp the form of the plantation after the war ends.”
“As expected, smart people are quick to understand, which is great. There’s a high possibility that slavery will disappear once the war ends. But even then, the planters won't go bankrupt entirely. They have vast lands, and they’ll continue to produce cotton by using those who were slaves as tenant farmers.”
But what could people who only knew how to squeeze slaves do when they had to manage tenant farmers?
All they would be able to do is vent their frustration while looking at their net profits, which had plummeted despite production and sales increasing compared to before.
“Since the boss will be able to generate sufficient profit without exploiting slaves, your relative standing will rise. I’ve understood up to this point. But the reason for changing the structure so drastically...”
“Because if you want to manage a large-scale organization, you need to have a system in place. And almost every industry in the world sees its unit costs decrease as its scale grows.”
There is a simple way to most certainly monopolize an industry in this world.
Pour in capital or manpower recklessly to achieve economies of scale, engage in a price war, and kill off all competitors.
Then, build a barrier to entry so that new entrants can't get in, and the monopoly market is complete!
If I tried this in the modern era, the company would be blown away by antitrust laws, but this is the romantic and lawless 19th century.
There are plenty of ways to avoid antitrust debates, and the agricultural sector, in particular, is much easier than general industries.
“I understand. So, it’s not a metaphor; you really intend to swallow the cotton market whole.”
“Yes. And I’m trying to finish all the experiments now so that I can apply them to the field immediately when the time comes to take action.”
“...By experiments, do you mean those titles like Head of Operations?”
“Yes. And they are actually learning the work that fits those titles and performing it now.”
This isn't just playing house by swapping name tags.
Sett Plantation was facing a true transformation under the slogan of replacing everything from the roots up.
“We aren't actually paying them yet, but we are conducting everything—from financial management to accounting—under the premise that we are operating an actual corporation.”
What is the net profit if we pay wages to the workers? What costs are incurred when operating welfare systems like bonuses, basic annual leave, and company dinners, and what impact does that have on productivity improvement?
Classification of worker ranks, compensation systems, and even performance evaluation criteria.
When we ran simulations under the premise that we were actually operating a corporation, points for improvement poured out one after another, and thanks to that, I was spending my days insanely busy.
I wonder if I dug my own grave again this time, but what can I do?
Since I’m the only one who has tasted the life of a 21st-century conglomerate, this is a burden I have to carry alone.
Rockefeller, who had listened to the explanation, let out a hollow laugh and scratched his head.
“...The day slavery is abolished in the South will, paradoxically, be the day all the Black people here come under the boss.”
“Why are you exaggerating like that? Not all Black people.”
“But isn't that what you have in mind?”
Will the Dixies, who have lost the convenient tool of slavery and must now manage tenant farmers, be able to win the competition against a super-conglomerate agricultural company that leverages economies of scale?
“Still, I need more people to complete this system. That’s why I asked my sister and brother-in-law to lease me some slaves. In return, I promised them executive positions in the company.”
“Then, the reason you called the two of us...”
“Dominating the cotton industry is good, but the cotton industry won't prosper for a thousand years, so I should encroach on other industries with the overflowing cash. It’s a future that’s still a long way off, but I’m sharing the big picture so you two can see it for yourselves.”
“I understand. But boss, by any chance, can we see how you’ve structured the organizational chart? If possible, I’d like to use it as a reference.”
“This shrewd goody-two-shoes is trying to get ahead again! Boss, please let me refer to it as well!”
The discussion with the Carnegie-Rockefeller duo ended on a heartwarming note.
“Those two are always fighting like that.”
“Leave them be. Having a rival who stimulates your competitive spirit is a good thing.”
“...I suppose that’s true.”
“More importantly, has our Chief of Staff finished the work?”
“I’m working hard on compiling it right now!”
Leo, who had been watching Carnegie and Rockefeller, who were constantly exchanging nerves even as they left the room, snapped to his senses and turned his gaze back to the documents.
“But master, if the scale grows, I think we really need a few more secretaries. According to your plan, even excluding young children and the elderly, there will be thousands of pure laborers...”
“That’s why I’m telling you to get used to it starting now. If you need more personnel, expand it.”
“But the legal team you said you’d create here doesn't have any personnel yet?”
“Ah, that? That can't be helped. It’s an organization that must be composed entirely of white people.”
“...I thought you were educating the young children to place them in such organizations, but I guess not.”
Of course not. Unfortunately, you had a thought that was too far ahead of its time.
The reason I was trying to educate the particularly smart kids among the ones currently growing up was, as Leo said, to place them in office jobs that didn't require physical labor.
But the law is different.
Especially considering the purpose of the legal team's existence, the lawyers belonging to it had to be white people with deep ties to local courts or the legislature.
“Anyway, this legal team isn't needed right now. When it’s needed later, I can just hire them with money.”
“By later, do you mean when the war breaks out?”
“No. When the war ends and slavery disappears.”
Leo was puzzled, but when that time comes, the existence of this organization will be the biggest reason why Black people will want to gather under me.
This organization was the shield and weapon that would make anyone who touches my workers go back and forth to court countless times until their lives are ruined by charges of business obstruction.
“You don't need to know the details, so let’s have a company founding celebration dinner this weekend. My Chief of Staff should convey my instructions to each department and take measures to ensure preparations are completed. It’s a more special dinner than ever, so tell them not to spare any costs on the food.”
“Yes! I will tell them to prepare so that the tables are practically breaking!”
A massive cotton corporation that started with one white man as the founder and over a thousand Black people and a few white people as founding members.
The founding ceremony of Sett Cotton was held in a large square filled with the scent of beer, whiskey, and meat, with the singing of a Black choir echoing through the air.
The era of the black wave, which would dominate the white cotton fields of the South, had arrived.