The Amish

by Donald B. Kraybill

  Traditional notions of church-based mutual aid may also change with the rise of nonfarm employment. Amish employees in English businesses must pay into the Social Security system. Although the church discourages them from collecting government benefits, they are legally free to do so, and anecdotal evidence suggests that some retired factory workers, in fact, do collect.26 Some Amish businesses assist with employee health insurance (Amish or commercial) and provide retirement funds through 401(k) saving accounts. These developments do not spell an end to traditional mutual aid, but they do suggest that in some communities individuals are taking responsibility for functions that have long been the obligation of the entire church.

  Amish business owners operate farmers’ markets in urban areas on the East Coast. The market in Annapolis, Maryland, is on the first floor of a large cinema in an upscale shopping area. Donald B. Kraybill

  Cottage industries can also bring technological changes into the heart of Amish life. For example, in higher communities at-home businesses often have a telephone on the property (although not in the house), which can disrupt the normal routine of family life. If the enterprise is a retail business catering to non-Amish customers, there may be more conversations in English than would ever occur in the home of a farmer or even a factory worker. For precisely such reasons, some conservative communities want to keep home-based enterprises quite small or forbid them altogether.

  Furthermore, trying to grow a business larger requires calculation and strategic planning skills. Consciously trying to please customers and thinking about how to make products more attractive and expand market share is a hallmark of successful entrepreneurship. Developing new products, boosting production efficiencies, and pursuing new markets require a rationality that challenges traditional sources of church-based authority.

  Most importantly, businesses have created a three-tiered society. The Amish have never advocated absolute socioeconomic equality because, as one member noted, “There have always been a few wealthy Amish.” Nevertheless, the traditional farm economy placed everyone on a fairly equal socioeconomic level. All of that has changed. Commercial ventures have sorted Amish society into traditional farmers, business owners, and day laborers. The farmers have collateral wealth in their land, but often have little cash at hand. In general, farm families tend to be more conservative, reflecting plainer, more traditional values. Day laborers in shops and on farms have a steady cash flow and may enjoy a comfortable standard of living in the Amish economy, but they generally do not have significant wealth.

  Business owners, however, represent a commercial class new to Amish society. As bright, astute managers, some of them question traditional ways and press for change. Through self-motivation and experience, they have become proficient entrepreneurs. They understand the larger social system and interact easily with outside suppliers, technicians, business colleagues, customers, attorneys, and credit officers, from whom they have learned marketing strategies and profit ratios. They walk a tightrope between traditional Amish culture and the pressure for profit in a competitive world. Indeed, some church leaders worry that the pursuit of profit may be an ugly worm inside the rosy apple of success, and some believe that prosperity is as dangerous as persecution. “Pride and prosperity could do us in,” said one elder, and he wonders whether the church can motivate the commercial class to use its resources for community enhancement rather than for self-indulgence.

  If the move away from farming is changing Amish society from within, it is also reshaping relations with the larger world of neighbors, local government, media, and public opinion. Amish entrepreneurs who want to establish small businesses on farms may clash with agricultural zoning rules in some settlements, giving local officials contradictory signals: that they want to preserve farmland while building shops on it. Some municipalities proactively engage Amish businesspeople in discussions about proposed commercial zoning or other ordinances in order to preempt potential conflicts. At the same time, the desire to escape government regulation has motivated some Amish to move to less-populated places with few zoning restrictions, where locals welcome them as a force for economic revitalization.

  Amish firms in rural economies create jobs and turn out taxable products without demanding government start-up loans or other public perks—an economic fact not lost on many civic leaders. In some depressed areas new Amish settlements have pumped up land values, increased tax revenue, and seeded new businesses. Amish enterprises are closely tied to tourism in some regions, which also pleases those with economic development interests. Although English entrepreneurs dominate Amishthemed tourism in all areas, Amish people are, of course, a vital piece of the puzzle. In all these ways, Amish entrepreneurs have gained a reputation as an economic asset among local and state officials almost everywhere.

  Neither Separation nor Assimilation

  Their stunning success in entrepreneurship, construction, and factory work has tied Amish people into the mainstream economy as never before. These developments are transforming their traditional way of life in ways that will reverberate across generations. The rise of nonfarm employment may at first glance suggest that these separatists have assimilated into American society and lost their cultural soul. Clearly, nothing unmasks the myth of Amish isolation like an examination of Amish involvement in nonfarm work. On the other hand, nothing better illustrates the resilient and dynamic character of their separatist culture. Amish enterprises demonstrate the interplay of continuity and change that mark the Amish journey in the modern world. Willing to adapt to changing times, the Amish are also keenly committed to drawing lines of distinction and making choices driven by religious and cultural criteria. If anything, Amish success in the world of work has helped to cement their claim that avoiding the lures of high school and college will not leave them destitute.

  Regardless of how the Amish steer their way through the turbulent economic currents of the twenty-first century—in cottage industries, at job sites, in factories, or at urban farmers’ markets—they will negotiate with cultural resources aplenty. The future will surely challenge Amish communities as they struggle to maintain a tradition of separation while engaging the world in new ways. Their capacity to renegotiate their identity in the midst of liquid modernity and technological innovation will be vital to their survival and success.

  CHAPTER 17

  TECHNOLOGY

  * * *

  Prohibited from using electric clothes dryers, Amish families have always air-dried their laundry by hanging it outdoors. In 2007 an Amish hardware store in Charm, Ohio, bought European-manufactured, electricity-powered stainless steel spin dryers and modified them to run by compressed air. The spinners were an instant hit with Amish customers, and the store began importing “container loads” of spinners from across the Atlantic. Amish shops in other states soon got into the act, making and selling their own customized versions of the clothing spinner. “They make the clothes so dry you can wear them right away on a hot day!” one Amish man exclaimed. An Amish woman called the spinner “the best thing since sliced bread!”

  * * *

  Technologically Impaired?

  Limits on technology are the signature mark of twenty-first century Amish identity. Riding in horse-drawn buggies and living unplugged from the public grid unmistakably separate Amish people from mainstream Americans. In his 1996 satirical music video “Amish Paradise,” singer “Weird Al” Yankovic calls the Amish “technologically impaired.”1 Other observers have called them Luddites, presuming they are anti-technology like the followers of Ned Ludd, a legendary nineteenth-century British activist who opposed new technology at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution out of a desire to protect cottage industries.2

  Yet the Amish do not categorically condemn technology in Luddite fashion, as the clothes spinner example clearly illustrates. Nor are they technologically naive. Rather, Amish communities selectively sort out what might help or harm them. They categorically prohibit some technology—television, for
example. Yet most groups accept the newest binoculars and camping gear without reservation. More significantly, the Amish modify and adapt technology in creative ways to fit their cultural values and social goals. Amish technologies are diverse, complicated, and ever-changing.3

  Amish identity was not closely linked to technology in the nineteenth century because Amish farm and household technologies were similar to those of their rural neighbors. In fact, some Amish farmers were among the first in their regions to purchase new styles of horse-drawn machinery. Although church leaders who attended the national Amish ministers’ meetings from 1862 to 1878 expressed concerns about consumer goods, musical instruments, and photographs, they did not discuss technology itself. Distinctive Amish responses to technology began to emerge only in the twentieth century as the fruits of the late Industrial Revolution—driven by electrification and advanced transportation—moved into rural America. The telephone was the first item to receive a cool reception in Amish communities, but as cars, tractors, radios, televisions, and computers rolled off assembly lines, they too were rejected.4

  The Amish story reveals the struggle of a small religious group as it tried to cushion the jolt of technological development. Yet, even as the Amish have sought to moderate technology’s impact on human interaction and social organization, they raise broader questions about technological determinism: Can humans tame technology, or does it control our destiny?5 In the words of technology writer Kevin Kelly, “Has the enormity and cleverness of our creation overwhelmed our ability to control or guide it?”6

  The Amish, arguably more than any other group in America, have tried to domesticate technology so that its potent force does not overwhelm or cripple their culture. Their effort has been moderately successful for more than a century, but only because it has been a collective project. The Amish offer a profound example of one group’s deliberate attempts to modulate the pervasive power of technology to shape the character of individual and corporate life.

  Deep Assumptions

  A Religious Canopy

  Several deep assumptions inform and frame Amish views of technology. Unlike life in highly differentiated modern societies, Amish life remains under the religious canopy of the local Gmay. Thus it is the church-community, not the individual, that makes major choices about technology. This does not mean that the church makes decisions for families in every regard, but it does provide guidelines—and sometimes specific directives—for technological practice. A district might permit propane-powered refrigerators, for example, but the type, size, and model are left up to each household.

  Technology guidelines are dictated by tradition and the Ordnung. Decisions made in members’ meetings carry authority because they are sanctioned by the church and therefore, the Amish believe, endorsed in heaven. In contrast to mainstream society, in which individuals make decisions about technology based on personal preferences, the ultimate authority in Amish society lies in the church-community. With more than two thousand congregations, this means there are dozens of different Amish practices related to any particular technology.

  Separation from the World

  As we noted in chapter 4, the Amish believe that the church should keep some social distance from the larger society. Technology can reach across this divide in two ways. First, many forms of technology can directly expose Amish people to the values and lifestyles of the larger culture. In the early twentieth century, the telephone, for example, established a direct tie to the outside world. Later developments—public grid electricity, radio, television, and the Internet—all offered easy access to popular culture.

  In addition, some forms of technology, while not direct conduits to the larger world, can modify the lifestyle and social structure of Amish society. For instance, an appliance like a dishwasher diminishes the value of collective work. A car increases mobility and might eventually unravel the fabric of relationships in the local Gmay. Using large tractors for field work could expand the size of Amish farms and lead to profit-driven agribusiness. The Amish fear that, in the long run, technologies such as these will not only change their traditional way of life but pave the way for its disintegration.

  Dangerous But Not Wrong

  In the Amish mind, technology itself is not considered sinful or immoral. Like a knife, which can cut bread or kill someone, tools can be used to help or to harm, to build up or to tear down communities. “A car is not immoral,” said one bishop, “it’s what it will do to our community—it’s about the next generation.” Their fundamental fear is that a particular technology will alter the bonds of community over time. “What will it lead to next?” Amish people often ask. They do not contend that anyone who drives a car is going to hell, but they are leery that car ownership could eventually demolish their community.

  An Amish leader explains the assumption of moral neutrality this way: “We do not consider modern inventions to be evil in and of themselves. A car, or even a television set, is a material thing—made of plastic, wood, or metal. It is the use of it that is wrong.” Misuse of technology carries moral risk. The same man continues, “The moral decay of these last days has gone hand in hand with lifestyle changes made possible by modern technologies. The connection between the two needs to be examined with care.” Finally, he says, “When our possessions become the master and we the servants, we are in bondage.”7

  Responses to Technology

  Amish communities have dealt with technology in five ways: rejection, acceptance, adaptation, invention, and distinguishing between ownership and access. Amish affiliations vary in their mode of response. The most traditional groups reject more, adapt less, and invent less than liberal churches. The Swartzentrubers, for example, virtually froze their technology practices after they formed in 1913. In fact, one of their bishops said, “I can count the new devices on six fingers.” In sharp contrast, other Amish affiliations accepted or adapted hundreds of state-of-the-art technologies as the twentieth century unfolded.

  Rejection

  The decisive Amish no to both the car and public grid electricity within the last century has helped to preserve the pre-industrial character of their life.8 Those decisions slowed the pace of change, shaped Amish identity, and stymied social discourse with mass culture. The Amish have been most adamant, however, in their rejection of communication and entertainment technology. Radio, television, video, smartphones, and the Internet are disallowed because they could transmit the vices of modern culture directly into Amish homes. One leader condemns television with these words: “Satan has, no doubt, used it more effectively to bring about the state of the modern world than any other tool which has been produced. Satan’s plan is working—men have been given the rope, and they are absorbed in hanging themselves.”9 The ban on television is rarely contested because it makes practical as well as religious sense to keep a healthy distance from what the Amish see as the moral acids of modernity that are delivered by television.

  Acceptance

  Progress-minded groups have accepted many nonelectric technologies—lawn mowers, chain saws, farm machinery, milking machines, gas grills, children’s toys, detergents, and pesticides. A host of factory-fresh air-powered and battery-operated tools have been warmly received by many Amish groups. Battery-powered cash registers, word processors, scales, and copy machines are used in many communities, and battery-powered LED lights are used on many buggies and in homes and shops. State-of-the-art archery, hunting, and volleyball equipment as well as in-line skates are common in many places. Of course, in the more traditional settlements, most new technological gadgets, including LED lights, are not welcome.

  Adaptation

  Because technology options are not always clear choices between rejection and acceptance, the Amish often tinker with devices to disarm their potential harm to the community or refashion them in ways that mesh with Amish values.10 These modifications are cultural compromises that enable communities to tame the power of certain technologies so that they can use them. The tinker
ing is evidence of a culture of innovation that exists within a community of restraints.11

  Such adaptations in the home include using small air motors to operate sewing machines and food processors, air pumps to pull water out of wells, and propane gas to power stoves and refrigerators and to heat water. Modifications on the farm include using battery-powered agitators to stir milk in large stainless steel tanks and diesel engines to operate vacuum milkers. In addition, the rubber tires on tractors are replaced with steel wheels to render the tractors unusable for highway transportation, and farm machines—designed to be pulled and powered by tractors—are retrofitted with gasoline engines so the machines can be pulled by horses.

  Some Amish groups permit battery-powered word processors but not computers. With the help of non-Amish computer technicians, one Old Order Mennonite inventor developed what he called a Classic Word Processor—a modified computer with a Linux operating system, a small monitor, and word processing and spreadsheet software, but no capabilities for e-mail, Internet access, video games, or other interactive media. The operating system restricts the addition of third-party software. Because standard computers are off-limits for Amish firms, the Classic Word Processor is a boon to business owners for managing inventory, payroll, and accounting. The device exemplifies how the community domesticates technology by adapting it for its own purposes. Several competing Amish-modified “computers” are now also available.