Life As Performance Art 147

I'm thinking, these days, a lot about hierarchy, Gentle Reader. I am, among other things, an anarchist. Not by political persuasion (I actually do vote, for progressive candidates, but I never vote Liberal), nor because my life is full of chaos (I am actually, very disciplined and try to keep a fairly tight and effective routine and schedule). Quite simply, I do not believe in human authority. Hoo Boy, trouble here, sports fans. I live in a country that is a parliamentary, representative democracy, a constitutional monarchy, and I do not believe in human authority. I live in a country where the rule of law is upheld, and I do not believe in human authority. I live in a country with strong military and police institutions, and I do not believe in human authority. I work for our public health authority, where authority and decision making are very top-down, and I don't believe in human authority. I also am a tenant paying monthly rent to a landlord. And I attend an Anglican church, which, by definition, is very hierarchical. I remember when I was again flirting with the Quakers (or, the Flakers, as I have come to know them). As a Christian, or perhaps as a religious but spiritual (which I am not) the Quakers would be ideal. They have no leaders and they are completely horizontal, completely inclusive. Uh-huh. News flash: the Quakers are hierarchical, every bit as hierarchical as any other religious institution. Only they won't admit it. And some of them can be quite rude, so I no longer bother with them. It doesn't seem to matter where we go. There are always going to be pecking orders. There are always going to be those with seniority, experience, popularity and sex appeal that makes them natural leaders, even in situations where leadership is eschewed. And if you are a newcomer, then you had better mind your manners if you want to get anywhere or you will soon find yourself back on the street. Of course, capitalism is very compatible with this dynamic of hierarchy, since it thrives on competition, and almost everyone, it seems, is going to vy, if not for dominance and supremacy, at least for their own bare survival among frenzied competitors stronger, more gifted and more cunning than they. Even when I was part of a small intentional Christian community there was a hierarchy, even after everyone insisted that all decision making must be done by consensus. Except for one little sticking point. I, the founder of the community, was the only one with experience. And the other three refused to listen to me. So, rather than stick to my guns and make rules that they must comply to or hit the road, I decided to let them have their own way. I gave them exactly what they wanted. Not because I had caved (though who needs the conflict?), and not because I was trying to be nice. I did it to teach them some hard and bitter lessons. Oh, they learned alright. And they never forgave me. I had given up on remonstrating with them about the importance of common sense and good self care. Okay, I said, you want street people and addicts to swarm your living space twenty-four/seven, then go right ahead, and trust me when I say this, there will be consequences. Fortunately, around that time, I was able to use my mother's death benefits to take off for an extended trip to Europe. I would have stayed much longer than two months, but the reports coming back to me from the only other member of our community with a few shreds of common sense were so troubling that I knew I would have to return to help set things in order. One of the really difficult members had already resigned in disgrace (let's just say that he had trouble with his zipper). The other one had already been sleeping with a drug addicted schizophrenic living with her alone in the ministry house who had twice beaten her up. I came back and restored order. I closed the ministry house where all the trouble was taking place and the three of us all stayed in the retreat house in the country where I made and enforced rules. It was onerous and she was constantly ornery, and we were the nasty dictators now, not letting little Dippy do whatever she wanted), nagging, arguing and sometimes crying about it all. Within a couple of years we broke up as a community. It was too little too late. But there has been a huge take away from all this, especially the importance of leadership, and the indisputable existence of hierarchy as a fact of life. We can mitigate it and soften its edges, Gentle Reader, but we ignore it at our peril. Hierarchy is part of our human genome. It is with us forever and we had might as well make our peace and live with it.