Today is Labor Day in America. Families are at the beach, cooking out, and generally having a good time all in the name of the proletariat. Which is fine and dandy. But what about a day of celebration that notes the sacrifices, risks, and success of the people who made the prole fun possible in the first place?
Now, some unreconstructed Bolshies are saying, well, given American capitalist society, every day is Management Day. Nothing could be further from the truth, at least when it comes to traditional males.
The American businessman, along with the dad and husband, is the most reviled figure in culture. In most forms of entertainment, in literature, in academia, he’s portrayed as a bumbling fool, when he is not spotlighted as outright evil, only to be shown the proper way by either a female or a distinctly in touch with his feelings 90s era sensitive guy. Along with other ubercompetent executives, this is his day.
Now per our targeted figure of homage, we don’t mean just any figure who happens to be in management. We mean people who use their courage, resources, and a bit of gambler’s luck to create from scratch and those who continue the process with verve and expertise. We mean Jack Welch, we mean Elon Musk, we don’t mean Joe Biden. In fact, we don’t mean anybody in the public sector at all.
Not that there are not competent managers in the public sector, there are. But they don’t make a profit and they generally live in a world of illusion. The illusion being, as recently pronounced by the president of the United States, that they create jobs. They do not and never have. When they are functioning at top efficiency, as they did in the Coolidge, Reagan, and Trump administrations, they get out of the way and let the private sector create jobs. When they are going above and beyond they decrease the number of federal regulations that hinder job growth. Outside of that, for our purposes, they are useless.
How would Management Day be spent? It would be almost like the scenario in “Atlas Shrugged”, but in a much more amusing fashion. The producers of society would indeed leave, but just for a day. They would be encouraged to shrug off their daily responsibilities and indulge in the fruits of their leadership labor. The rest of America, if they got the day off, could take limo rides, dress above their station, and use the King’s English.
Their could be piñatas in the image of Democrats and union goons, Bernie Sanders could be hung in effigy (or not in effigy), and cigar smoking could be allowed in any public space. Thus could America honor the engine that drives our economic machine. Then the next day, we could go back to our normal incipient socialism.