The Farmer or the Financier

Again I come to you with questions. The scalpel this time in my hand. For farmers are not a monolithic herd, nor financiers in matters of variety. Undoubtedly there are those who see their wealth as a means to encourage and enable. They see every dollar as a dream that can be realized by another. It has occurred to me in the past that if you have too many good ideas to develop on your own, then giving them away is the ethical course. It has also occurred to me that intellectual property will be seen very differently in the future. What one can amply develop is not only an opportunity but a responsibility. If this development is novel, and cannot be matched by another, then so much more incumbent is the task. However, should one be unable to pursue an endeavor, it seems to me that it is an ethical responsibility to make it available to others who are able and capable. A sort of licensing that is driven not by the potential for profit and control, but instead motivated by an ethical imperative. I think the twenty first century will be a century of selflessness, or a century of despair.

I myself am a farmer. I say this with some reservation, as the farmer is an iconic image and I do not measure up to the ideal. The pigs see me as a farmer I think, and the goats. The milk tastes like the milk a farmer would drink, the pork tastes like meat that a farmer would eat. The myriad fruits and vegetables in cans and burlap seems to me to be the provisions of a farmer. I think I am a peasant farmer, much like my Irish ancestors were farmers before the famine. What enables this largely is the richness of this country. Truly America is a land of plenty even today, even after so much has been extracted an abundance awaits our endeavor. So as a consequence of kindness, I am able to be a peasant farmer and rejoice in my opportunity well aware of the blessings bestowed upon me. The loans come at very fair rates, so fair in fact that I invent ways to overpay my lender. If only it were this way in the wider world.

When the financiers reverted to some wild state of being, crept back into the jungle and cultivated the predatory spirit, they sought soft prey to exploit. It was the plump juicy flesh of the tender consumer that they sought, led into a condition of being beyond their means. Ripe for entrapment, they followed the voices on their televisions. They listened to the voices from the radio in their sport utility vehicles. They obeyed the waving and dancing fool beside the road who sufficiently enticed them into wanting things, things upon things. Awe what a trap we have laid for ourselves, and now we will indemnify the beast and damn the gentle lamb. Let it be said of us at least that we saw the crimes committed, even lamented, although we did nothing to stop it.

So, to the question. Who is it we will revere, who will have our solace in these trying times? Will it be the farmer? Whether she sits in a massive machine, tending a thousand acres in a day, or creeps from row to row on her knees speaking in hush tones to each seed, the farmer today embodies an ancient spirit. One that seeks to multiply and understand and adapt and produce. Or will it be the financier? Whether he bends his knees beneath a mahogany desk, or sits on squeaky wheels with elbows on formica, the financier is too an icon in America. One that seeks to calculate and amortize and dictate terms and profit. I above all things seek to appreciate the world in its entirety. I read the first commandment from my childhood to demand this of me, worship no single thing above the unity of all things. Yet in this case I ask myself and I ask you who shall it be; the farmer or the financier?