“We can simplify our society–that is, make ourselves free–only by undertaking tasks of great mental and cultural complexity.” (Wendell Berry 49)
It’s a paradox, of course–a truth that seems counter-intuitive, even contradictory. But it’s neither. It’s just true. We are free when our lives are complex. And when we live lives of complexity, we obtain simple freedom.
Berry points out that, during simpler times (when most of us inhabited rural communities), our work was complex. We built our own houses, grew our own food, and made our own clothes. We navigated the world using a variety of skills.
A farmer–if you’ll forgive the cliche–seldom put his eggs in one basket. He had chickens for eggs and meat, cows for milk, and pigs for meat. He grew corn to feed the animals and himself. But he also grew alfalfa and cotton and wheat. He had a series of enterprises requiring various ways of working. He was not a specialist.
He rotated the crops to take care of the land. He knew that, without the land, there was no way to sustain life. His complex way of living brought simplicity that was freeing. He produced all or most of what he needed. He lived in community but independently.
When we moved to the city, we became specialists. Our list of skills shrank. Our dependence on others grew. He stopped being a producer and became a consumer of goods others produced.
In the city, the essence of freedom changed and became something less responsible, more self-focused.
The change is something we attribute to advanced technology, to modernity. But it’s more than that. In our consumption, we lost meaning in our lives.
Loss of meaning changes our core beliefs as a people, a nation. The nature of our beliefs relies largely on where we come from. Two sets of beliefs spring from our different worlds, the countryside and the cityscape, and will not reconcile into a single way of thinking.
We can trace the differences in our core beliefs back to people moving from farmland to city.
In the nineteenth century, moving from the country to the city marked a huge shift in how we saw children. On the farm, children had been blessings from heaven. Once they reached a certain age, they became helpful hands on the farm. One day they would become heirs of the land. Life in that place would go on as it had before.
In the complex life on a farm, everyone who was able worked. Children jumped in to help with chores as soon as they were old enough. And they somehow became older sooner out in the country.
In the city, men worked. Women stayed home with children whose contributions to sustaining the family were non-existent or small. If the man’s work provided a good living, the woman and children did not need employment. If the reward of his work was meager, his wife and children made their way into sweat-shops.
It was difficult to carry one’s own weight. Yet many found meaning even in such a place. They worked to make sure their own children would not bear a similar burden.
My father rose early as a child and stood on a street corner selling newspapers every day. He never kept the reward of his work. He contributed his earnings to the household.
He made a better life for his children.
Now, we’ve reached a point where it’s hard to imagine a better life for our children. Is there a better place than the comfortable one we’ve made for ourselves?
Seeking more comfort–or for those in a world of pain because of abuse or neglect, some comfort–has brought us the drug crisis and school shootings. Young people lack responsibility and self-control largely because they are more concerned about comfort than meaning. Yet they seek meaning. And they can never quite find enough comfort.
The prize of comfort revealed itself to be a plastic trinket.
In the countryside, fathers taught (and still teach) youngsters how to shoot a rifle and/or shotgun. Pre-teens hunted and fished (some still do), supplementing the family’s store of food. And these children were also prepared to defend the homestead and the livestock against wild animals or someone with evil intentions. Many still are so prepared without danger to their peers.
In the city, guns could have only two purposes–threat or protection. Today in cities where specialization reigns, only the police are supposed to protect. There is no place for gun ownership in the minds of many city dwellers.
Issues like that one define our differences. There seems to be no solution in sight.
But perhaps a solution comes in making our lives more complex.
We are a long way from building our own houses, growing our own food, and making our own clothes.
But learning how to do some of the things that make us more independent can make us more responsible, more independent people. We can produce again rather than simply consume.
And by learning production ourselves, we can show others and pass along responsibility, self-sufficiency, and meaning to them.
Doing so can help us understand each other. Doing so can help us help each other. Doing so may make all the difference for someone disenchanted with a plastic trinket of meaningless comfort.
Photo Credit: Pixabay
14 Replies to “Between Two Ways”
Aside from our slightly different styles, this reads like my manifesto, Nancy. Naturally I appreciate this post. It is the kind of logic that brought me back to the ranch.
Thanks for commenting. I’ve always hated the term “consumer”. People are always so much more. But Berry really helped me develop my thinking. God bless!
Great article Nancy! I find it interesting how we have come so far, and in my case, seek to go back to those days. Days of independence and dare I say, a little less comfort. There is something beautiful about the idea of producing both physically and spiritually, rather than simply “consuming”.
Thanks for a great comment. You are so right–less comfort–less consumption–more independence. God bless!
There are times when simple is better. Great post. 🙂
Thank you for commenting! God bless!
Very true. You are very insightful. In our western culture, comfort has not brought us comfort after all. It’s only made us wanderers without purpose. Hard work and producing vs. just consuming is good for the soul, mind, spirit, and body. Great post!
You’re so right, Marcie. We don’t realize how much comfort we’ve lost. Thanks for commenting! God bless!
This reminds me of the “Teach a man to fish” saying. I wonder how we could help other nations struggling with poverty if we taught them more than we give them. Because you’re right – doing more things ourselves teaches responsibility and gives more meaning to what we have!
You’re exactly right, Emily. But we need to learn them ourselves if we are to teach anyone else. We are ill-equipped to be teaching many practical skills right now. Thanks for commenting! God bless!
You opening paragraph in this blog post made me think about a dragon.
The dragon can only fly because it’s attached to the rope.
To me, what you’re saying at the opening of your blog post is the same.
It’s also what I think is the real power of the Christian tradition.
The limitations are there so we can access the real freedom so that we can fly spiritually – like the dragon.
I like your discussion about specialists.
Perhaps we need more generalists in today’s world, people that can see the big perspective and the long lines.
The context gives us the meaning, just as you writing about meaning and the physical place where we live.
This is one of the argument that I dislike the idea of reading the Bible without context.
The Bible is a Holy book, yes, but it has to be seen in the right context.
Thank you for a great blog post, Nancy.
The discussion of specialists springs from Wendell Berry’s book. I never thought about it like that before reading him. But it’s so true. We may have a craft skill or two–but think of what our grandmothers could do! Sew, knit, crochet, preserve food, cook, bake–much as the Amish do today. I have a few of those skills–but I feel as though they are a few specialties–not a general skill set.
Thanks for commenting, Edna! Very insightful!
I am from the Caribbean, I typically grew up with everyone being a “jack of all trades”. Moving to a first world country for what we would term the better life, while its good, don’t get me wrong, I feel like I have lost my self-sufficiency. The conveniences have made me less independent and more just consuming my way through life.
But if you needed to, you’d be able to rely on yourself better than many of us would. Thanks for commenting! God bless!