Joy Beeson
2009-06-10 15:07:00 UTC
I try to live in a rose-and-butterfly world where most people believe,
deep down where it counts, that it's wrong to hurt people, that nobody
owns anybody, and it isn't right to hold people to contracts that they
never signed.
Now and again I'm forced to notice that most people are devout
coercitarians.
One such notice has been sticking with me more than thirty years. In
a book about gardening technique, the author casually noted that she
couldn't raise a particular plant because the seedlings looked like
the seedlings of a weed that was common in her area, and as soon as
they came up, one or another of her "friends" would drop by while she
was out, pull them all up, and expect to be praised for it.
The author didn't see anything the least bit wrong with this
situation.
A more-obvious notice, ten or twenty years ago, was a "humor" column
in some bicycle magazine.
The author of the column had been in the habit of riding with a group
of friends, one of whom was noted for refusing to change his chain
even though the wear had become obvious. The narrator got fed up
with being associated with such a scandalous chain, so he bought a new
one and concealed the new chain and a chain-changing tool about his
person the next time the group met to ride. When they stopped for a
rest and a snack, the narrator lagged behind when the group went into
the building, then, once assured that his victim would be preoccupied
for a time, quickly took off the scandalous chain, threw it into a
dumpster, installed the new chain, and awaited peals of gratitude.
Now the hysterically-funny part of this story is that the victim
mounted up without looking at his chain, and the odd way it shifted
didn't arouse his suspicion, but when they'd gotten a mile or so down
the road, the new chain called itself to his attention by failing to
work entirely -- inspection revealed that the old chain and his
drivetrain had worn to fit each other, and the old drivetrain couldn't
function with the new chain. So the victim had to sit by the road*
while the rest of the group rode back to where they had left their
cars so that one of them could drive out to pick him up.
Since the old chain was irretrievable, he had no choice but to replace
his entire drivetrain, which was cheaper in the days of freewheels
than it is now that everything is in cassettes, but still not cheap.
I don't suppose that the expense was a hardship to the victim -- you
don't go on club rides unless you are reasonably comfortable -- but
that isn't how he had chosen to spend his money. And he had to give
up riding until the new components could be ordered, delivered,
installed, and shaken down.
The narrator never suspected that his actions might have been in any
way other than beneficial.
deep down where it counts, that it's wrong to hurt people, that nobody
owns anybody, and it isn't right to hold people to contracts that they
never signed.
Now and again I'm forced to notice that most people are devout
coercitarians.
One such notice has been sticking with me more than thirty years. In
a book about gardening technique, the author casually noted that she
couldn't raise a particular plant because the seedlings looked like
the seedlings of a weed that was common in her area, and as soon as
they came up, one or another of her "friends" would drop by while she
was out, pull them all up, and expect to be praised for it.
The author didn't see anything the least bit wrong with this
situation.
A more-obvious notice, ten or twenty years ago, was a "humor" column
in some bicycle magazine.
The author of the column had been in the habit of riding with a group
of friends, one of whom was noted for refusing to change his chain
even though the wear had become obvious. The narrator got fed up
with being associated with such a scandalous chain, so he bought a new
one and concealed the new chain and a chain-changing tool about his
person the next time the group met to ride. When they stopped for a
rest and a snack, the narrator lagged behind when the group went into
the building, then, once assured that his victim would be preoccupied
for a time, quickly took off the scandalous chain, threw it into a
dumpster, installed the new chain, and awaited peals of gratitude.
Now the hysterically-funny part of this story is that the victim
mounted up without looking at his chain, and the odd way it shifted
didn't arouse his suspicion, but when they'd gotten a mile or so down
the road, the new chain called itself to his attention by failing to
work entirely -- inspection revealed that the old chain and his
drivetrain had worn to fit each other, and the old drivetrain couldn't
function with the new chain. So the victim had to sit by the road*
while the rest of the group rode back to where they had left their
cars so that one of them could drive out to pick him up.
Since the old chain was irretrievable, he had no choice but to replace
his entire drivetrain, which was cheaper in the days of freewheels
than it is now that everything is in cassettes, but still not cheap.
I don't suppose that the expense was a hardship to the victim -- you
don't go on club rides unless you are reasonably comfortable -- but
that isn't how he had chosen to spend his money. And he had to give
up riding until the new components could be ordered, delivered,
installed, and shaken down.
The narrator never suspected that his actions might have been in any
way other than beneficial.
--
Joy Beeson
joy beeson at comcast dot net
* or, perhaps, walk slowly along a path known to his rescuers, which I
know from experience is much more comfortable than waiting in a place
not designed for waiting.
Joy Beeson
joy beeson at comcast dot net
* or, perhaps, walk slowly along a path known to his rescuers, which I
know from experience is much more comfortable than waiting in a place
not designed for waiting.