American Farmers Get By on Authoritarianism, Socialism and Child Labor

My dad used to hire this guy named Levi to come and help with jobs around the farm. Levi was smart and capable. I always wondered why he got stuck working with us. Then, one day, somebody gave me the answer.“Levi drinks a bit too much. That's why he bounces around from job to job.”Those words settled upon the surface of my mind where they stayed, though I didn't understand them at the time. Sometimes it's as if a part of you knows you've gathered a scrap of information that will make sense a little further down the line.I was of the age where I spent most of my time daydreaming about playing with plastic toys. My dad would dump me off with Levi to work. I needed to work to get “built up.” I needed to labor so I wouldn't become one of those “lazy, good-for nothings that spent his whole life taking advantage of the generosity of others.”I did what I was told.Levi was one of the few people who could go toe to toe with my dad verbally, but he picked his moments. Their sparring settled into a comfortable routine. My dad would say something to exert his dominance. Levi's eyes would twinkle, and he'd nod, but you could see thoughts churning inside.When we worked with other men, Levi always had something to say. He kept them laughing all day. Then my dad would show up and Levi's silence spoke volumes. He wouldn't respond to barbs, but he'd look at the other men. The other men would bow their heads and hide their smiles.My dad noticed this, but pretended he didn't.Again, I didn't comprehend, but I remembered.There were all these boundaries that had been established through time and convention. As long as the hired help wasn't openly defiant, the authority figure was appeased. Levi went right up close to that boundary. He put his boot on the barbed wire and leaned his body over the other side, but he never quite crossed.Levi knew he needed the work if he wanted to enjoy the weekend he had planned. He had to shut up and let it pass.My dad knew that Levi didn't have other options.So, the relationship persisted... for at time.I learned a few things from Levi, not directly of course. It's not like we had long chats where Levi explained all the perils of the world as he saw them. No, I learned through quiet observation. I became a student of powerless defiance.My dad would drive up and tell us what to do. He'd give an incomprehensible lecture in about seven minutes. Levi and the other men would stand around nodding. I figured it must be “adult talk” because half of what my dad said never made any sense.Then my dad would get in his car and drive away. Everyone would look to Levi. Levi would say, “Well, we're not doing that.”Then we'd all relax.Eventually, we'd get to work. We'd do the job that needed to be done, not the one that had been ordered. Later, when my dad came and saw what we'd achieved, he wouldn't object.That's the way of incompetent authority. The workers are given impossible orders. The boss likes to trot around feeling good about himself. He likes to think the few minutes he spent on the task justified his lack of subsequent action. Meanwhile, the men in the actual trenches adapt the plan to make it feasible.We learned to nod our head and say, “Yes sir!”We learned to show respect and compliance because that's what made the authority figure go away.We learned to lie.The power of the patriarch rests in his ability to provide validation. But authority can't transform the world directly because it refuses to do any actual work. It just gives orders. It's up to the working class to interpret the orders. There's a big gray area of potential defiance hidden in plain sight.Children want to make their fathers proud. That's natural enough. That's even appropriate in some cases.The problem comes when the patriarch starts to see validation like revealing the secret of a magic trick. Some men become addicted to having others look to them for approval.They think, “If I tell them they did a good job, they'll leave. What happens to me then?” This represents the fatal flaw of authoritarianism.Your work is never good enough. You're always “stupid” and “lazy.” The dynamic remains unchanged. There's no progress. You'll never inherit. You seek approval. The patriarch refuses to give it.At first, when Levi did something other than what he was told, I became afraid. I thought my dad would come and rage and scream the way he did with mom.When he came to check our work, I knew we couldn't hide that we hadn't followed his instructions. I expected Levi would explain by saying we'd encountered an issue and had to adapt the plan.But even that didn't happen.My dad just looked and nodded, and acted like our result had been what he commanded all along.I was stunned. Was this a different person? He'd always been so fixated on details with me. He never seemed to forget a word. But suddenly, here in the presence of these men he'd forgotten everything he'd said?He stomped back to the car secure in his delusion that everything was fine. But I'd seen.There are cracks in the armor of an authoritarian. They yell and they scream and they don't want their authority questioned.But above all else, they don't want to actually do the work. They want to look down at you from the ledge of the ditch and smirk. It's frustrating until you realize they're not coming down. They're never coming down. As long as you're willing to pick up a tool, you're safe from them.I grew up on a farm. I saw that, despite what everyone says, farmers don't work hard. They make their children work hard. Authoritarians are experts at diverting attention away from their own essential laziness and ineptitude.“Either give me the results I want, or I'll replace you with somebody competent! Must I do everything myself?”That's a bluff. Men like Levi stand and weather the storm. They've got their sights set on Friday when they can exchange the dynamic of disrespect and abuse for a few hours of oblivion.Sometimes Levi's patience would run thin. If my dad began to rage, Levi would step to the side. He'd gesture at the job and, in a polite and condescending voice he'd say, “Maybe you could show us what you want.”The other men, there for a day, would bow their heads to hide their laughter.“I'm not going to do it! That's why I hired you to do it!” dad would rage. Then he'd go away and leave me with these men. They'd all have a good laugh and we'd perform the task to the best of our abilities and in accordance with the physical laws of reality.At home, my dad wouldn't acknowledge the complexity of our relationship. As long as there was the appearance of compliance he failed to recognize the defiance. I survived beneath the cover of that enduring delusion for many years.You all make this newsletter happen! Thanks for your sponsorship! 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