Who's The Man A Rant Against the Anti-consulting Craze by David Freccia Livia Gershon's admittedly "self-righteous rant" ("Working for the Man, Hermes, November 1997) about our fellow CSS majors puts forth a somewhat frustratingly one-sided view of the world. I'd like to send her a little message from the other side. I am most likely going to be one of those people who she thinks "sell-out" to "the Man." (Hell-I was even part of the conversation about consulting.) I am not, however, going to take it upon myself to convince others to follow my path. Instead, I'd like to talk a little bit about us "sell-outs" and "the Man." Livia did not pain herself to argue against "the Man," saving herself a fair amount of effort and thought. I have one question: who's "the Man?" "The Man" is not the consulting firms, the big corporations, or even the big investment banks. "The Man" is, as far as I can see it, the construct of some people who are looking for someone to blame for all of the ills of the world. It's a clumsy term that somehow mixes all of the big corporations in the world into a single, evil, plotting mass that actually has nothing to do with police brutality or many of the other ills mentioned in her article. Instead of selling out to this root of all evil, however, Ms. Gershon has chosen to drive around the country, hoping to do "absolutely nothing for society" for six months. And this, somehow, will save her soul. That actually sounds like fun to me. I'd love to ride along, but I've got other plans. Some members of the Wesleyan community, including myself, are looking forward to working hard, earning money, and maybe even using part of it to do good things for the community. (Earning money and greed are two very different things.) There are ample opportunities for kids like us to pull in high wages working for the large firms that drive the American economy. Some may call this "selling out to the Man," but I don't. It's impossible for me to "sell out" since I never "bought in" to the bullshit idea that all corporations are evil. Next year, I hope to be employed as a consultant, "giving people advice," as Livia understands it. Unlike the advice that she implicitly gives in her article, however, the advice I'll be giving will be constructive, profitable, and (most importantly) wanted by its recipients. It looks like Livia and I are taking different paths into the real world. I'd love to meet her for lunch next year to discuss what each of us has done in the past year to make the world a better place. We could compromise and go out for vegan food on Wall Street. We might even figure out who's done more service to the community in the past year. If we discuss all of this over lunch, though, I wonder who'll be paying.