“Ancient poetry and mythology suggest, at least, that husbandry was once a sacred art; but it is pursued with irreverent haste and heedlessness by us, our object being to have large farms and large crops merely.
Henry David Thoreau, WALDEN
With the coming of spring, I again look forward to planting my garden, a vocation I have practiced ardently for over half a century. I confess to loving that first glimpse of dirt under my fingernails. I believe I share this quirk with “farmers” everywhere. There is a wonderful feeling that comes from working in the soil, that both transcends and enhances the joy of harvesting and eating crops I plant, tend, and harvest. Growing food is a pastime that gives me immeasurable rewards—well worth the work involved, even though the monetary payoff is minimal, in purely economic terms. I sow because I love to, and reap when I get to.
It looks like I am in esteemed company. Billionaires like Bill Gates, Ted Turner, and others are owners of immense amounts of farmland. I hope they get the same thrill from tending their thousands of acres that I do from working a small plot in my back yard. We share and celebrate our common humanity by tending the earth. Okay, I had better admit now, I was joking. Sarcasm is hard to recognize these days. I know that billionaire “gentleman farmers” buy farmland because it is a sound way to park surplus cash. Our country’s founders brought forth on this continent a nation of, by, and for real estate developers. Modern billionaires are only carrying on a long tradition. And the ultra-wealthy owners of huge expanses of farmland do allow people to grow crops on that land—smart business, which increases profits. What does it matter whether the people who grow crops actually own the land, or merely rent it, as modern-day peasants? What does it matter whose name is on a title deed, as long as food is produced and sold to a world populated by folks who eat?
Thomas Jefferson’s vision of a nation composed largely of yeoman farmers never really came true, although for most of our nation’s history it was at least avowed as one of our more sacred national goals, which later blended with visions of yeoman urban workers. But American ambitions seem to be getting farther away from universal property ownership in the Third Millennium. The concept of a large, property-owning middle class to uphold a democratic society is so twentieth century—maybe even eighteenth (sarcasm again). Over time, societies tend to develop rigid class structures, and ours is apparently no exception. Whether our ascending aristocracy is permanent or not, members of this class are determined to keep it.
We need to remember that the peasant class, growing in number if not in wealth, still has something to say about a permanent aristocracy—if peasants decide to speak up and take action. But right now the lower classes seem happy to ignore this trend whereby fewer numbers of rich people (not only in America) are accumulating larger shares of wealth, while increasing numbers in the lower classes are obliged to live on increasingly less. If this process continues, one person will eventually own everything, while the rest of us will be left with nothing. As we watch a dystopian future become now, we are told to accept “the way it is.” Of course society’s drift toward total wealth concentration cannot continue forever. Nature eventually establishes balance, but the process can be destructive. Humans could change social conditions before nature takes its catastrophic course, if first we claim the right. We also have the ability to perpetuate inequality and injustice. Whether “the way it is” stays that way is up to us.
As things now stand, I will probably be able to keep my little garden plot at least as long as I can tend it. Still, the growing wealth and power of the plutocrats is troubling, and greed never rests. In a world shrunken by industrialization and electronic communication, events can deliver earthshaking changes. Material abundance is now available worldwide, yet some must fight for subsistence because others will not share. On the subject of sharing, we commoners have an opportunity that billionaires deny themselves: emotional satisfaction from cooperating with nature, practicing patience, learning to accept what life has to offer. Who are we not to share the wonders of living a full life with our fellow human beings, simply because their wealth and power delude them into avoiding it? A sane society would help our unfortunate fellows—not let them control the whole society.
Should we reduce these sad people’s fortunes for their good as well as ours? Wealthy people can eat all they want, while billions are unsure of getting their next meal—an increasingly elusive goal in many places. Three daily squares remain pretty reliable for most Americans, although even here they are becoming gradually more difficult to get. Statistics show Americans are working longer and harder than they had for many years. In fact, we now work longer hours than the rest of the industrialized world. Does a healthy society allow people who actually like devoting their lives to working make everyone else do the same? Perhaps the plutocrats, sensing the emotional privations that stem from their disconnect from nature’s processes, are compensating by acquiring ever more material possessions, of which land is a small part. They could lavishly provide for themselves and their families far into the future, yet they must have more. It seems somehow wrong to let these unfortunates go on like that—especially since doing so makes it harder for everyone else to obtain the most basic human needs.
Against the injustice of obscene wealth, we have our time-honored concept of fairness: people should be allowed to keep what they get. Personally, I understand. I want to keep my garden, and the house that stands next to it. I see no advantage for anyone less fortunate if these possessions are taken from me, which would then make me unfortunate. But I need to look at things as they stand, not as fear describes them. Truly, I sense no threat from poor people anywhere, despite fear mongering about “others” who are accused of knocking down our gates to invade our happy homeland. But all the while, plutocrats are acquiring more, and eventually they will want what I have. Society would benefit if the bloated wealthy had much of their wealth redirected into the general economy where it can circulate, better enabling everyone to tend to their basic needs. The wealthy will benefit too, from reconnecting to the community.
Human ingenuity has made the world plentiful. Yet, in defiance of all rationality, billions are obscenely poor, with their numbers growing, while the few who are obscenely rich keep getting more. There is an undeniable connection between these two trends, since obviously the world’s bounty is not infinite. We also know that when people in the middle become more numerous and prosperous, we all have more freedom to be ourselves. Not everyone enjoys getting dirty fingernails, but we are all entitled to the opportunity to live lives that fit our individual natures. We can only have a society that allows individualism to thrive if the Earth’s bounty is shared—if not equally, then at least so that everyone’s basic needs of food, clothing, and shelter are reliably provided. In other words, we need less plutocracy, more democracy.
Now, back to the thrill of getting dirt under my fingernails.