Twine in the Baler
I recall a true story about an Ozark farmer who telephoned his neighbors one fine June day asking for help in getting in his hay. Arriving at the hayfield, people found the farmer baling his hay, but without twine in the baler. Unbound piles of hay, which would have to be entirely reraked and rebaled, lay all over the field. The farmer, with a bottle of whiskey in his lap, was feeling no pain, as they say, and did not seem to notice the problem, nor did the dozen or so men, similarly anesthetized, standing around the pickup trucks at the edge of the field. Believing the lack of twine to be a serious problem, one of the volunteers, a newcomer to such haying operations, suggested putting a roll of twine in the baler. To which an old-timer replied: “Naw, no need for that. Ol’ Billy-Hugh [the farmer in question] is having too much fun to stop now.” This story says something important about intention. Those of us who arrived on the scene ready to work failed to understand that the purpose of the event had nothing to do with getting in hay. This was a party, haying the pretext. Once we understood that, all of us could get in the flow, so to speak. A good many things, including politics, work similarly. One of the best books ever written about politics, The Symbolic Uses of Politics (Edelman 1962), develops the thesis that the purpose of political activity is often not to solve problems but only to appear as if doing so. The politics of sustainability, unfortunately, provide no obvious exception to this tendency to exalt symbolism over substance. And of symbols and words there is no end. The subject of sustainability has become a growth industry. Government- and business-sponsored councils, conferences, and public meetings on sustainability proliferate, most of which seem to be symbolic gestures to allay public anxieties, not to get down to root causes.