We all find our own ways in life to some extent. In two sizeable
stints of bachelorhood in my life, I've known the need to fend for
myself, and out of necessity have picked up a few "survival" skills.
Take sewing, for instance. I've sewn only buttons or patches, but I am
happy with the tricks I have taught myself. It might seem possible
that a mule packer, working alone on his own, and never in his life
having seen or heard of mule packs, might sometime in his lifetime
come up with a diamond hitch. But chances are he wouldn't. One
might think that one would come up with a stirrup if one were left to
one's own devices. But more than one brilliant civilization came and
went before it was invented in the Second Century B.C. If we think
we could've "invented" it, it is only because the idea of it has already
been shown to us in all of its simplicity.We fool ourselves if we think
we don't stand on the shoulders of our predecessors.
I could learn so much more about
sewing by studying what others have
already learned. That is what authority
is. It's the handing down of things, from
the more authoritative-whether they
be individuals, forebears, civilizations,
institutions, value systems-to the less
authoritative. Archeologists, in digging
up cultures, make judgments on those
cultures' advancements based on such
things as, for instance, the kinds of
stitches they have developed or the kind
of pottery or metallurgy they have mastered.
Indeed, much about a culture's
values and beliefs can be deduced from
its tools and technology. Where ancient
peoples are concerned, these judgments
have been fairly reliable, because
societies then esteemed authority in all
fields-not just in their technology.
Advancements in the sciences usually
meant advancement in the arts, as well
as in ethics, morals, metaphysics, spirituality.
Authority was authority, and it
was heeded in all fields.
What would some future archeologists
say of us, were they to dig up our
civilization and see its incredibly
advanced technology? Would they say
that we must have been profoundly
developed in heart and soul, in morals
and metaphysics, as well? Would they
be right?
We stand on the shoulders of our
authorities in technology, largely without
recognizing it. Ask some if they
revere authority, and many will bristle.
They don't see that it is inescapable in
their material lives, and meanwhile they
spurn or scorn it especially in matters of
spirit and soul. Why refuse to grant
authority or to respect tradition and "the wisdom of the ages" in moral, spiritual,
and metaphysical fields? Perhaps
it is because these are areas where we
feel free to "sew" as we so desire, or to
go on sewing as we always have, for in
these realms, unlike technology, we
think we are truly free to be "free."
Or maybe we think that because our
technology is advanced, this fact must
be an indication of a corresponding,
automatic superiority in our reason or
tastes, or in our moral or spiritual
selves. But if we disdain authorities in
these fields-in other words, in the only
fields in which ultimate and important
questions exist-why think we are
advanced in them?
The cowboy world is a world that values
authority and the carrying on of tradition
and the revering of the ways of
our elders and forebears. It is because of
this reverence that the Cowboy Way is
especially valuable not just to cowboys
but to all. It serves as a touchstone for a
society that could easily lose its way and
may be doing so.
G.K. Chesterton observed that tradition
"means giving votes to the most
obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It
is the democracy of the dead. Tradition
refuses to submit to the small and arrogant
oligarchy of those who merely happen
to be walking around." C.S. Lewis
also had a name for the contempt of
authority. He called it "chronological
snobbery." Every age must guard
against it.
Just as a packer need not be ashamed
that a diamond hitch be handed down to
him from his superiors, so must we not
think that we cannot learn anything
from our Founding Fathers, from moral
authority, from time-tested truths,
from all who have shed their blood to
pass on something that transcends our
mere daily doings. In matters of the
heart and soul, the most important
insights always come from above.