'It was not an argument about the right and wrong of farming. It was an argument about the way things were going to be in the foreseeable future. And he was losing that argument. He was now on the side that was losing it, and he was furious. He felt his anger singling him out. And he was exultant. He stood to discover that he was shaking.
For the foreseeable future, then, no argument would be effective against the blocks of economic power. Farmers were going to fail, taking the advice of Netherbough and his kind. And Netherbough and his kind were going to thrive, giving bad advice. And that was merely what was going to happen until the logical consequence of that course of success become intolerable. And then something else would happen. And who knew what?
But that an argument was losing did not mean that it should not be made. It had already be made and it would be made again, not because he would make it, but because it always existed, it always had, and he belonged to it. He would stand up on it here, in Tommy Netherbough's office, in Tommy Netherbough's face. That it was losing did not mean it was beaten.'
Wendell Berry, Remembering, p.71.