With rippling muscles and broad shoulders, he drove spikes with his 40-pound hammer, nicknamed Lucy, faster than any man alive during the backbreaking railroad era. But John Henry, the legendary steel-drivin’ man of American legend, died trying to compete with a more efficient machine.

Facing the odds, and succeeding, is common in American folklore. Social history is littered with tall tales of rugged individualism and herculean feats by guys like Paul Bunyan and Davy Crockett. These stories made America believe in its superiority, and rebuff those who would chip away at its image.

That fancy newfangled steam drill? Bring it on. John Henry, representing can-do America, will conquer it with pounding heartbeats and hammer swings. The old folktale illuminated how the U.S., exemplified by industry, felt it could vanquish competitors with a strong and willing workforce, proud dedication to achievement, and seemingly endless progressive energy.

The tale has new meaning today, especially when transposed onto Maine’s paper industry. Mills in Jay, Rumford and elsewhere are modern John Henrys, pounding along their trade with stubborn resiliency.

As the 2006 Maine Paper Directory states: “Many Maine mills have older, smaller, and less efficient machines than their counterparts in other parts of the world or other parts of the U.S. This leads to relatively high labor costs…a reflection of the fact that older machines typically require more labor and more maintenance than newer machines.”

Just like John Henry and his hammer.

But the competition for Maine’s paper industry is not just machines now, but rather countries like Brazil, which have regulatory environments, work force abundance, natural resources and economic incentives and efficiencies far beyond the dreams of Mainers.

And like John Henry, if Maine’s mills simply try to accelerate to compete, it could mean disaster.

Changed outlook

After 10 days in Brazil, writer Carol Coultas and photographer Amber Waterman returned to Maine with eyes, and minds, re-opened. From afar, South America’s reputation – socially and industrially – is of a backward culture exploiting cheap labor and lush forestation for greedy capitalistic gains.

Instead, they found a vibrant, though admittedly bureaucratic, society with equally strong – some may say stronger – statutory protections for workers and nature as the United States. Though salaries for papermakers are tiny by comparison, about $8,000 annually, bonuses, free transportation, vacation, child-care allowances and other perks make the amount far more than a living wage.

Add potent environmental regulations that put deforestation and conservation on the same plane, and Brazil’s identity as some third-world upstart melts away. Maine, and even the United States, is unable to match it: the wheels of labor relations, and government regulation, move far too slowly.

Scarier still is that the time for competing with Brazil is over. No longer the rising star, Brazil’s success has drawn backyard competitors like Uruguay, which is offering vast tax-free zones to paper mills. How can we compete? A Pine Tree Zone is nothing against a Tax-Free Eucalyptus Plantation.

The answer is clear: there is no competing in this global economy, as investment declines and commodity markets expand. Keeping pace would literally pit Maine against the world, a proposition all involved would preferably avoid.

What to do?

Yet, according to leading economists, such a confrontation is predestined. “These two forces are on a collision course,” said Charlie Colgan, of the Muskie School of Public Service at the University of Southern Maine.

We could draft the paper industry’s obituary, but we won’t. Maine government, industry and citizens should hear a cavalry charge, not TAPS, in the din of South American machinery, and push to reinvigorate aging mills to compete, not on the world stage, but on stages yet to be built.

In future editorials, we’ll investigate the promise and pitfalls facing Maine’s paper industry in the global economy. The lesson from Brazil isn’t one of defeat, but of resolve. Like John Henry staring down the steam drill, there must be confidence in overcoming the odds.

Maine just needs to work as hard, and much smarter, to succeed.