Those Who Work, Those Who Don't: Poverty, Morality, and Family in Rural America

by Jennifer Sherman

When the rural poor prioritize issues such as the right to bear arms, and disapprove of welfare despite their economic concerns, they are often dismissed as uneducated and backward by academics and political analysts. In Those Who Work, Those Who Don't, Jennifer Sherman offers a much-needed sympathetic understanding of poor rural Americans, persuasively arguing that the growing cultural significance of moral values is a reasonable and inevitable response to economic collapse and political powerlessness.

Those Who Work, Those Who Don't is based on the intimate interviews and in-depth research Sherman conducted while spending a year living in "Golden Valley," a remote logging town in Northern California. Economically devastated by the 1990 ruling that listed the northern spotted owl as a threatened species, Golden Valley proved to be a rich case study for Sherman. She looks at how the members of the community coped with downward mobility caused by the loss of timber industry jobs and examines a wide range of reactions. She shows how substance abuse, domestic violence, and gender roles fluctuated under the town's economic strain.

Compellingly written, shot through with honesty and empathy, Those Who Work, Those Who Don't is a rare firsthand account that studies the rural poor. As incomes erode and the American dream becomes more and more inaccessible, Sherman reveals that moral values and practices become a way for the poor to gain status and maintain a sense of dignity in the face of economic ruin.

Genres: Nonfiction, Politics, Poverty, Anthropology, Sociology, Economics, Class

253 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2009

Reviews

[C.K. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read Sherman's book after reading an article at Harvard Business Review by Joan C. Williams entitled "What So Many People Don't Get About the U.S. Working Class." In the weeks after the election, I had a minor obsession with trying to understand Trump voters--who they were, why they voted as they did, what chasm-like divide separated us (as I cannot fathom voting for that idiotic man--getting all political now, I know). I still don't understand Trump voters, but Sherman's nuanced, intelligent sociological study of a rural, depressed northern California town is fascinating and provided a new way of looking at things for me. I've lived in rural, remote locations where the region is entirely dependent on one industry (oil and gas), but the town Sherman studies for over a year, immersing herself in the community, is a different beast, as it's deeply economically depressed after a logging enterprise/paper mill shutters its doors in the 1990s (due in large part to federal regulations protecting a type of endangered owl), and it's 95% white.

Sherman interviewed dozens of men and women in this town and found a curious mixture of hierarchical morality, insularity in the form of devotion to the community, and determination to move forward despite huge social and economic hurdles. Sherman analysis is sound and careful, and I found Those Who Work, Those Who Don't to be a really interesting read. Sherman is also eerily prescient--despite the book being published in 2009, in her introduction and conclusion, she makes recommendations and includes warnings to policy makers and politicians not to ignore the rural poor, and to realize they have political power that could be wielded in unlikely--or unfortunate--ways. Our President Elect's supportive base is largely white and college-educated (surprisingly), but there is a swath of rural voters, disenfranchised with their economic and social standing, who supported him. Sherman's study is a mirror that exposes the underpinnings of where the dissatisfaction of the working poor can lead, told through her compassionate and observant lens in a place where she does not belong, but is welcomed nonetheless.

[Doug · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book provides an interesting insight into a rural California community whose economy was decimated by the Spotted Owl ruling. Written as a sociological study of the ways the fallout from that ruling has impacted moral, economic, social and cultural norms, the book strongly asserts that in depressed rural areas, the moral hierarchy gains importance and influcence as economic opportunity declines.

I greatly enjoyed reading the case studies, and the book does a very good job of proving several of its main assertions. However, in other cases, the comparison of rural findings to their urban counterparts is shaky. Although the book generally does a good job of maintaining a political objectivity, there are a number of instances where the logical leaps that are made can only result from deeply held opinions of the author. And, I found myself wondering what purpose the Conclusion's costly more immediate governmental policy recommendations would serve in the absence of the area's permanent longterm economic viability, which the author concedes is never likely to re-emerge.

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you want to understand why it seems like so many poor (mostly) whites seem to vote against their own interests then this is the book to read. The author treats this subject seriously and sensitively. An excellent look into the way those in this poor, rural, California town view themselves and those around them.

[Elyssa · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was written in 2009 and is informative since the election of Trump. Through the author's interviews with white rural residents of California, I was able to better understand the reasons why they favor Republicans and their policies, even when neither of these support their needs.

[Kris · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book in an attempt to understand why people voted for Trump.

I got really tired of being the liberal type who constantly said to themselves "why do 'these people' vote for someone who is so obviously not going to work for their best interests, a person who is only in it for himself?" It gets old, having that mindset ... and I wanted to get inside the head of conservatives who would be willing to vote for the type of man who is so truly adverse to true conservative concepts such as home, family, and legal ethics.

The book was Ms. Sherman's master's thesis, and as such, it can get wordy. But it was a very good read in terms of learning why small-town America might vote for a Trump. The book was published in 2009, well before the current administration came to be, but the issues were beginning to bubble up even then -- manufacturing jobs going away, technology taking over, global business becoming the norm. The books centers on a town in California, away from the city, rural, with most jobs tied to the logging industry that all but vanishes after the spotted owl was deemed as needing protection.

How many towns are just like this one all over the country? Jobs based on one or two local companies, jobs that have been lost forever? Where I've lived, it was coal. I absolutely get the devastation that hits families when the father loses his main source of sustaining the family.

The beauty of this book is that it talks in a very positive way about how hard people work in these small towns -- how innovative they are about keeping the family going by hunting and fishing and doing multiple odd jobs. I respect this. Family is extremely important. Many of these men tried to go far away from home in order to have a job, only to return because they were tired of being away from their wife and kids.

I'm also impressed by the way women adapted to change, and went to work outside of the home. They had to -- there was often no other choice. But they also could only get jobs that weren't paid as highly as their husband's logging job. Many of the men also adapted beautifully by becoming the caretaker for the children, and valuing the opportunity to be the most involved fathers that they could be. THAT is spectacular.

So what did I learn from the book? That change is hard for many people. Not once was it mentioned that any of these ex-logging workers adapted by upgrading their skills or their education. Not once. I also learned that many of the men stayed in the area because they couldn't face not being able to hunt, fish, and "be outside." More than a few turned to selling drugs in order to keep the family going, ... all the while despising anyone who went on 'welfare' in order to make ends meet. Work is prized -- and even selling drugs is better than going on welfare in this community. THAT I don't get.

I loved the fact that families stayed in the area so they could support each other. I love the fact that the community often pitches in to help those in need. These are things that I pine for in some ways -- living in the same spot, being near family -- those are things that our family has not always had because we have moved around often for my husband's job. But I've also watched my husband adapt constantly to changing work environments. I know it's hard. I get that. But it had to be done, and sometimes the change was GOOD.

So, unfortunately, I didn't really get a huge amount of information that could make me truly empathize with the typical Trump voter. I did, however, understand small-town America a little more. And I came to the point where I have some anger over the fact that guys like Jeff Bezos, who have all of the opportunity in the world to change things, don't plop their second headquarters into middle America instead of 7 minutes where they own a house.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book, published in 2009, comes as close as any I've read to predicting the rise of Trump. The author writes about Golden Valley, a fictionalized logging town in Northern California where the economy was devastated by the closings of sawmills in the 90's. In this environment, where social identity is not shaped by differences in money, education, or access to high culture, because these are unavailable to all, class distinctions and individuals' identities come to be based more on "who is morally upright and hardworking." According to Sherman, liberals completely miss the point when they focus on these rural voters' seemingly illogical support of conservative economic agendas. Rather,"moral capital" is the coin of the realm and politics is a means to reject low morals, which Golden Valley voters associate with welfare, crime, "urban" liberal social values, and addiction.

[Mary Ann · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author spent a year living in a rural town in Northern California. Her extensive interviews with the residents, together with other research, has produced an interesting and very readable study of povery, morality, and family. Her study breaks down many well-established beliefs which have informed our nation's policies--including the notion that the poor are lazy and choose not to work. Sherman's study, published in 2009, is highly relevant today in the light of the current national discourse.

[Tina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good premise... just reads like a research paper.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sherman’s ethnographic approach to “Golden Valley” is an interesting way at coming at the dilemma of the “values voter” in rural America, not from an interrogation of issues platforms, but at the very concept of “values” and morality as central to the rural way of life. Through her interviews with 50+ rural residents of this California town, she exposes how the decline of economic opportunity (at the loss of the local timber industry) has influenced a recalibration of local “coping strategies” that prioritize values, particularly family values, over economic stability. This close look at moral behaviors as reinforced through gendered behaviors—women working in more secure, yet also more feminized, roles than men, as men struggle to find new work—moves the needle to see the internal logic of how a community sustains itself and justifies its choices and values on those issues they can control. This is particularly strong in Ch. 2, where Sherman teases out the spectrum/hierarchy of choices that influence one’s “moral capital” and social standing within the community in the absence of economic capital. Through this spectrum (established well on p. 68), we can see that paid work is most highly valued, followed by substance work and family help, reinforcing the kinship ties and notion of community engagement that is highly valued within the community. At the other end of the spectrum are welfare recipients (stigmatized because of their acceptance of gov’t handouts, despite the fact that disability recipients or unemployment benefit recipients are both given more leeway/respect.) The lowest end of the spectrum is those who earn a living via illegal activities—a designation that also explains the valences of social capital in Chapter 3, where drug activity is similarly stigmatized as undermining that most valuable of institutions, the nuclear family. Because she builds this argument about moral capital so persuasively, Sherman’s then subsequently maps out her arguments about family structure, marriage, and gender roles along similarly coded terms in a way that sustains the rest of her argument. Yet I would want to see more evidence of both how members of the community saw each other (Rather than how people saw themselves) and a more critical reading of how this moral paradigm emerged/shifted BECAUSE of the loss of economic opportunities. Was this a perpetual aspect of rural life, or one made by economic instability? Nevertheless, a valuable read that gives credence to the notion of moral sustenance in the face of economic uncertainty.

[Jac · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ok, I skimmed it. It probably says something about me that the author preface on “preserving anonymity” just made me curious, and my god there is no anonymity preserved here. I could draw you a damn map of the county and I’ve never been to Northern California. The author appears to believe that names are the only kind of identifying data, and drops geographical and census facts every paragraph.

I also wasn’t very impressed by the book, but if it was new information I might have been. Oh, you’re saying that people in shitty situations develop social hierarchies based on things they can achieve? And people have bullshit over-estimates of how great people like them are, and how lousy people who aren’t white and rural like them are? Wow, next you’ll tell me that even poor people can have pride in their appearance. It’s so depressing thinking that all this really is news to a lot of people.

Ok, it did legit surprise me that Americans in the least appealing town going are *also* convinced that people moved there to be on welfare. But it did not surprise me to learn that they are wrong.

[Jackson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a puzzlement to me. It reminds me quite a lot of the county where some of my family lives, and indeed some of my family. It seems as though people always need to have something to "rise them above" in the pecking order somehow. Is that just a human trait? What is there in our culture that demands to be happy one must take everything possible, but then knowing that so is everyone else feeling the same way. Wendell Berry always gets me thinking about how small things could be fine in themselves ... but on the other hand why can't I just let be that people want to lord it over others and not pay attention to it other than to help the downtrodden?

[Daniel Foltz · Rating 4 out of 5]

A bit dense and repetitive at times, but that’s kind of just the nature of ethnographies. I do think it’s worth the read, however. She takes a very empathetic approach to understanding rural communities which I think is something often lacking in political discourse. Very often I see liberal discourse becoming thinly-veiled classism, so this was refreshing to read. She never excused any racist or otherwise harmful ideologies, but she intimately described the struggles of an impoverished, rural community, which in turn shed light on why rural Americans are more susceptible to Republican morality propaganda. Altogether, good book, and I really appreciate Sherman’s empathetic approach.

[Shane Benson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perhaps the most important book written in the last decade that few people have read. This is perhaps the best informed and well-researched study of the divide between urban and rural Americans. I also feel the author does a fantastic job of presenting those differences in as clinically detached manner as possible. The insights she presents are not only plausible, but rarely voiced by the so-called policy experts. I'd say the only draw back to the book, is that if the author is right about the urban-rural divide, I see no clear path to resolving that ever widening gulf.

[Harry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Felt like this has some blind spots regarding the impact of race and gender on its overall thesis that “morality” was the main motivating factor for these individuals worldview/political beliefs, but both were acknowledged with some detail. Otherwise a compelling and detailed read that shows how one rural American town dealt with and tried to adapt to a dramatically changing reality.

[Emma Tongue · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well, this changed my worldview

[Paméla S · Rating 3 out of 5]

The premise of the book was great. However, it reads like a thesis dissertation and lacked, in my opinion, a human connection between the author and the subjects.

[Catherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

An academic and highly readable sociological study of a California town that has declined economically with the loss of logging jobs.

[clancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

surprisingly easy to read and to the point. helps me articulate the culture in which i was brought up and how it differs from the one i am in now

[Samantha · Rating 3 out of 5]

Having moved from a suburb of Chicago to a small town in central Wisconsin this book was very helpful to understanding the people I now live around.

[Kimberly · Rating 3 out of 5]

*3.5

[Tracey · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good qualitative example of observing a community, especially with regards to gender roles and labor force participation.