"They can joke about that butt-crack all they want," they'd say, "but when the toilet backs up or the sink's leaking, they ain't calling their banker or their stockbroker!"  (That's the clean version.)  Oh, they were full of job-related humor ("Your crap is our bread-and-butter"… "It smells like money to me!" etc.), but most plumbers honestly believe their profession belongs near the top of the occupational pyramid.

I've also worked as a truck driver, construction laborer, factory worker and forklift driver, and as an instructional designer and trainer engaged with all levels of workers, from laborers to nuclear plant operators and engineers, and the same holds true in all those occupations.

But isn't that natural?  Don't most people elevate what they do for a living to a position of prominence, at least in their own mind?  Nobody wants to feel like their work doesn't matter, and the fact that we spend about 60% of our available living hours doing our jobs (once you factor in sleep, time for showers, meals, and travel) contributes to this almost universal tendency to magnify the value of our labor.

So it should come as no surprise to us that people who work in government typically believe their work is important.  The old saying, "The government ought to do something" seems to be the motivating mantra for government workers generally, and boy, are they "doing something."

In a recent essay for The American Spectator, I wrote about the "Unconstitutionality Index," a concept devised by Forbes magazine contributor Clyde Crews, Jr., which revealed that the 2020 Congress passed 177 laws, while unelected federal bureaucrats issued 3,038 rules or regulations.  (I was shocked that Congress had passed so few laws, since they insist on butting into citizens' everyday lives, but then I found that for the past five decades they've been passing legislation at a 503 bills-per-year average, so I guess they're running out of things to legislate!)