Earlier this year it seemed to me that every time I turned on TV I saw the same annoying, manipulative commercial: a very large industrial company wanted viewers to know that making all sorts of chemicals, plastics, and who knows what, is just a bunch of regular hard-working geniuses who care about you and me. (I don't want to disparage the company for something its ad agency put together, but you can watch the commercial yourself, if you wish.)

What bothered me was my sense that the advertiser wanted me to set aside my own feelings and be concerned about it's "feelings," whatever they decided those might be. That particular detail is not made clear. I could be very wrong about this; I am often wrong about such things. I don't like cheap sentimentality and I resent when it's presented to me as a truthful insight.

There is a "human element" to business, as the commercial suggests, but it's not something to be found in marketing campaigns. It is discovered through our own hard efforts and our appreciation of others' efforts as we work to achieve something good together. Over the past 15 months or so it has become something that managers and executives have been unable to address: there just are no resources or alternatives to the decisions that they face now.

For as long as I've been involved in the metalcasting industry, the human element has been well maintained and well respected. I can't properly express how much admiration I've developed for many, many of the people I have encountered over this time.

That's why this story affected me: it might move you, too. I've never met the man described here, but I feel I know him. His circumstance is touching, and entirely believable. Some readers may know him, but even if you don't it's important that we recognize how things have changed, and are changing, for the people who share our interests, concerns, and experiences.

"Business" is not antipathetic to humanity, as some marketing messages suggest, and some politicians and policymakers insist. There is a much human goodness in the work we do. But, when we can't work, when we've lost that opportunity, there is still a lot of good to be found and shared.