I considered it rather cool that the rescue squad where I now work one overnight a week has this paramilitary structure, with privates and lieutenants and captains, and special patches and shiny gewgaws attached to the bodies of various ranking individuals. It seemed rather hilarious, even subversive, that I should be working in such a place. Although the "command structure" at the squad is quite informal, I still find myself amused at the consensual fiction of "rank." While any organization needs a leadership mechanism, this is the first time I've worked anywhere in which I had an "officer" instead of a boss. The two are very different, no matter what kinds of organizations they serve. But everyone at the squad is a volunteer. That fact alone tends to disable any notion that one person "ranks" above another.

Anyway, I thought of the command structure as a kind of interesting diversion, a sign that this was an entirely new experience. It was like going to work in Star Trek, complete with the personal two-way radios and shiny vehicles, although lacking the heavy weaponry.

Then, much to my distress, it began to dawn on me that I am at the bottom of the command structure. I'm not even a Private. I'm an "A/A" or "Active Active," one of the most inscrutable titles I've ever had (and I've been a "Rural Health Extension Agent"). (I don't know why the title is abbreviated as "A/A" -- perhaps to discriminate between us and Alcoholics Anonymous?) I'm the professional (although perhaps not the moral) equivalent of a White House intern. If I work hard, I can make Private in a year.

And I will work hard, because the people who designed this system knew what they were doing. There is a part of me that sees a ladder like this one and immediately wants to climb it. There is another part, which I felt quite strongly as I sat through the monthly squad membership meeting on Monday night, that doesn't give a shit -- it wants to treat patients and doesn't give a damn about the way they circumscribe me to do it. But the climber will win, because what I really want out of the system is a balance between belonging and autonomy, and hierarchies rarely offer that to the lowest ranks. Instead, the prospect of increased autonomy encourages the individual to apply him/herself to ascend the structure.

It is a devil's bargain, because while superior rank allows for more self-determination, it also binds the individual more closely to the system. Autonomy has increased, but so has the degree to which the individual "belongs" to the system. In the Monday meeting, I watched other members argue about issues that were meaningless to me. As a low-ranking member, I have little stake in the minutiae of the system, particularly elements that don't affect me directly. In contrast, those who exercise more power must be concerned with the system as a whole, and are invested in far more detail than I am. They "belong," but they also "belong to."

As a low-ranking member, I'm still in the position where I can either give the system the finger or buy in. I could ignore the inducements to advance, not get sucked into the internal politics that swirl in fierce currents in any organizational teapot, give the minimum and receive the minimum in return. Alternately, I could accept the human barter that is offered by any social system, a matrix of investment and return, loss of individuality and increase in autonomy.

Before the membership meeting they called all A/As to the meeting room to set up chairs. It seemed pretty clear then what I would do. The fact is, I don't really like having people tell me what to do, and the smaller the pool of people "above" me with that capacity, the better. I'm sure that I have more laudatory reasons to want to excel at the rescue squad, but it's good to know what your lowest common denominator motivation is.

Gimmix

I'm still enjoying messing around with new toys on this site before I go out and ruin my clients' sites with them. I've set up a new front page for a pending section about virtue. It uses layers so you'll need a 4.0 browser or better to check it out. I just set up an internal search engine, which links from the question marks in the header and footer of each new Tales entry. I'll run that for a couple weeks or so before deciding whether to keep it or not. And, when Doug finally gets his ass in gear and sends his webcam, I'll be looking for some kind of worthwhile use for that. It will not involve webcast acts of intercourse. Unless I have any volunteers.