When I was a young private in the infantry the officers in my battalion suddenly caught the bug to glue clear plastic stickers in the rear windows of their cars that would tell the rest of us the name of the educational institution from which they had obtained their diploma. So, you would see all these CJ-7s and 4Runners in the parking lot emblazoned with USMA, Citadel, University of Texas or whatever on the back.
We the enlisted knew at one level that it was just school pride that was driving this phenomenon, but it was a bit aggravating nonetheless. After all, it was not your platoon leader's history degree from North Dakota State that made the man worth following, it was his leadership ability (if any). It was if they were rubbing it in our faces.
At some point, my squad leader got fed up with those I Love Me Stickers and decided to make a (uh) statement in response. Now, this guy (whose name was Jones) was odd. He was both one of the smartest men I've ever known AND one of the least capable men I've ever known of going with the flow. He grew up in Pennsylvania near Amish Country and used to tell us stories about arguing with them about the foundations of their worldview. His primary point: why pick 1780 as the year when history should have stopped? "It's random!" Jones would rail. Jones was a great non-commissioned officer, but you just knew he was never going past a certain level. He got thrown out of ANCOC for having dirt on his face two days in a row--in the same exact place! Stubborn. Jones was stubborn.
Of all of his idiosyncrasies (and they were Legion), Jones' biggest grind-able axe was his antipathy to Expertise. Jones just hated the concept of the appointed, credentialed and labeled man called the Expert. Jones would tell us that once you accepted another man as an Expert in Thing X you surrendered your right and responsibility to do Thing X for yourself, and once you started down surrender street you were never going to stop.
Jones' blanket rejection of Expertise extended to education. He believed that a man had the duty to educate himself that was not delegable to any other man, school or Expert. Per Jones, as long as there were libraries, a man could find the knowledge he needed. Jones handed me a copy of The Fountainhead in 1986 and gave me two weeks to read it. Then we talked about it--a lot. That was heavy stuff for a 20 year old kid who had never gotten past the 10th Grade, but he opened up my mind.
So, here was Jones' revolt against the officers' college stickers. He had a bunch of stickers made up that said "GED" on them. We all put them in the back of our beater Dusters and rusted out F-150s. When the officers asked us why we would want people to know that we never graduated from a "real" high school we just smiled, because it proved Jones' point about men who relied on the Expertise of others for their education and reputation.
I have not spoken to Jones for twenty years and have no idea where he is now, but he had a huge effect on the way I see The World and my place in it. I don't wait around for some Expert to tell me how to do things. While I am upright I can figure things out for myself and share what I have learned. I'm a graduate of the Old School Home School who spends no time whatsoever on Surrender Street.
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