Tradition Eight


"Alcoholics Anonymous should remain forever nonprofessional, but our 
service centers may employ special workers."

	Alcoholics Anonymous will never have a professional class.  We have gained some
understanding of the ancient words "Freely ye have received, freely give."  We have
discovered that  at the point of professionalism, money and spirituality do not mix. 
Almost no recovery from alcoholism has ever been brought about by the world's best
professionals, whether medical or religious.  We do not decry professionalism in other
fields, but we accept the sober fact that it does not work for us.  Every time we have tried
to professionalize our Twelfth Step, the result has been exactly the same:  Our single
purpose has been defeated.
	Alcoholics simply will not listen to a paid twelfth-stepper.  Almost from the
beginning, we have been positive that face-to-face work with the alcoholic who suffers
could be based only on the desire to help and be helped.  Talking for money, whether at a
meeting or to a single newcomer, can have a very bad effect on the A.A. member, too. 
The money motive compromises the A.A. as well as everything that's said and done for the
prospect.  This has always been so obvious that only a very few A.A.'s have ever worked
the Twelfth Step for a fee.
	Despite this certainty, it is nevertheless true that few subjects have been the cause
of more contention within our Fellowship than professionalism.  Caretakers who swept
floors, cooks who fried hamburgers, secretaries in offices, authors writing books -- all
these we have seen hotly assailed because they were, as their critics angrily remarked,
"making money out of A.A."  Ignoring the fact that these labors were not Twelfth Step
jobs at all, the critics attacked as A.A. professionals these workers of ours who were often
doing thankless tasks that no one else could or would do.  Even greater furors were
provoked when A.A. members began to run rest homes and farms for alcoholics, when
some hired out to corporations in personnel departments  in charge of the alcoholic
problem in industry, when some became nurses on alcoholic wards, when others entered
the field of alcohol education.  In all these instances, and more, it was claimed that A.A.
knowledge and experience were being sold for money, hence these people, too, were
professionals.
	At last, however, a plain line of cleavage could be seen between professionalism
and nonprofessionalism.  When we had agreed that the Twelfth Step couldn't be sold for
money, we had been wise.  But when we had declared that our Fellowship couldn't hire
service workers nor could any A.A. member carry our knowledge into other fields, we
were taking the counsel of fear, fear which today has been largely dispelled in the light of
experience.
	Take the case of the club janitor and cook.  If a club is going to function, it has to
be habitable and hospitable.  We tried volunteers, who were quickly disenchanted with
sweeping floors and brewing coffee seven days a week.  They just didn't show up.  Even
more important, an empty club couldn't answer its telephone, but it was an open invitation
to a drunk on a binge who possessed a spare key.  So somebody had to look after the
place full time.  If we hired alcoholics, they'd receive only what we'd have to pay a
nonalcoholic for the same job.  The job was not to do Twelfth Step work;  it was to make
Twelfth Step work possible.  It was a service proposition, pure and simple.
	Neither could A.A. itself function without full-time workers.  At the Foundationnote(7)*
and intergroup offices, we couldn't employ nonalcoholics as secretaries;  we had to have
people who knew the A.A. pitch.  But the minute we hired them, the ultraconservative and
fearful ones shrilled, "Professionalism!"  At one period, the status of these faithful servants
was almost unbearable.  They weren't asked to speak at A.A. meetings because they were
"making money out of A.A."  At times, they were actually shunned by fellow members. 
Even the charitably disposed described them as "a necessary evil."  Committees took full
advantage of this attitude to depress their salaries.  They could regain some measure of
virtue, it was thought, if they worked for A.A. real cheap.  These notions persisted for
years.  Then we saw that if hardworking secretaries answered the phone dozens of times a
day, listened to twenty wailing spouses, arranged hospitalization and got sponsorship for
ten newcomers, and were gently diplomatic with the irate drunk who complained about
the job they were doing and how they were overpaid, then such a person could surely not
be called a professional A.A.  They were not professionalizing the Twelfth Step;  they
were just making it possible.  They were helping to give the ones coming in the door the
break they ought to have.  Volunteer committee members and assistants could be of great
help, but they could not be expected to carry this load day in and day out.
	At the Foundation, the same story repeats itself.  Eight tons of books and literature
per month do not package and channel themselves all over the world.  Sacks of letters on
every conceivable A.A. problem ranging from a lonelyheart Eskimo to the growing pains
of thousands of groups must be answered by people who know.  Right contacts with the
world outside have to be maintained.  A.A.'s lifelines have to be tended.  So we hire A.A.
staff members.  We pay them well, and they earn what they get.  They are professional
secretariesnote(8)*
, but they certainly are not professional A.A.'s.
	Perhaps the fear will always lurk in every A.A. heart that one day our name will be
exploited by somebody for real cash.  Even the suggestion of such a thing never fails to
whip up a hurricane, and we have discovered that hurricanes have a way of mauling with
equal severity both the just and the unjust.  They are always unreasonable.
	No individuals have been more buffeted by such emotional gusts than those A.A.'s
bold enough to accept employment with outside agencies dealing with the alcohol
problem.  A university wanted an A.A. member to educate the public on alcoholism.  A
corporation wanted a personnel officer familiar with the subject.  A state drunk farm
wanted a manager who could really handle inebriates.  A city wanted an experienced social
worker who understood what alcohol could do to a family.  A state alcohol commission
wanted a paid researcher.  These are only a few of the jobs which A.A. members as
individuals have been asked to fill.  Now and then, A.A. members have bought farms or
rest homes where badly beat-up topers could find needed care.  The question was -- and
sometimes still is -- are such activities to be branded as professionalism under A.A.
tradition?
	We think the answer is "No.  Members who select such full-time careers do not
professionalize A.A.'s Twelfth Step."  The road to this conclusion was long and rocky.  At
first, we couldn't see the real issue involved.  In former days, the moment an A.A. hired
out to such enterprises, the temptation immediately came up to use the name Alcoholics
Anonymous for publicity or money-raising purposes.  Drunk farms, educational ventures,
state legislatures, and commissions advertised the fact that A.A. members served them. 
Unthinkingly, A.A.'s so employed recklessly broke anonymity to thump the tub for their
pet enterprise.  For this reason, some very good causes and all connected with them
suffered unjust criticism from A.A. groups.  More often than not, these onslaughts were
spearheaded by the cry "Professionalism!  That so-and-so is making money out of A.A.!" 
Yet not a single one of them had been hired to do A.A.'s Twelfth Step work.  The
violation in these instances was not professionalism at all;  it was breaking anonymity. 
A.A.'s sole purpose was being compromised, and the name of Alcoholics Anonymous was
being misused.
	It is significant, now that almost no A.A. in our Fellowship breaks anonymity at
the public level, that nearly all these fears have subsided.  We see that we have no right or
need to discourage A.A.'s who wish to work as individuals in these wider fields.  It would
be actually antisocial were we to forbid them.  We cannot declare A.A. such a closed
corporation that we keep our knowledge and experience top secret.  If an A.A. member
acting as a citizen can become a better researcher, educator, personnel officer, then why
not?  Everybody gains, and we have lost nothing.  True, some of the projects to which
A.A.'s have attached themselves have been ill-conceived, but that makes not the slightest
difference with the principle involved.
	This is the exciting welter of events which has finally cast up A.A.'s Tradition of
nonprofeessionalism.  Our Twelfth Step is never to be paid for, but those who labor in
service for us are worthy of their hire.

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notes

note(7)* In 1954, the name of the Alcoholic Foundation, Inc., was changed to the General Service Board of Alcoholics Anonymous, Inc., and the Foundation office is now the General Service Office(return to text)

note(8)* The work of present-day staff members has no counterpart among the job categories of commercial organizations. These A.A.'s bring a wide range of business and professional experience to their service at G.S.O.(return to text)

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