Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right

by Arlie Russell Hochschild

the campaign trail, in the media, from the pulpit, and from industry I had observed a silence about pollution. It seemed like the kind of amnesia E.E. Evans-Pritchard had spoken of, the kind that had led the Areno family to remember the events on Bayou d’Inde in a spirit of defiance. This silence extends to Jackie’s personal world as well. “Pollution? I don’t talk about it much with friends,” Jackie muses. “This whole town operates off of oil. So I could be talking to two moms whose husbands work in the plants. They think government regulation will hurt jobs, or stop new plants from coming in. You don’t want to remind them of dangers. Or make them think you’re blaming them for the work they do. It’s too close to home.” Again, the silence. Many plant workers were indeed caught in a bind—as enthusiastic members of the Calcasieu Rod and Gun Club and lovers of wildlife, they feel remorse about pollution, but as employees, they felt obliged to keep quiet about it. And so, out of deference, did Jackie and Heath. One consultant told me he saw “a notice in the men’s room, ‘Don’t drink the water,’ in Axiall [this being the former PPG]. . . . But you don’t hear much talk about why that sign was there.”