I have a friend who raises yaks. He loves them: he loves their look, their temperament, their meat. And for him, raising yaks is worth the trouble.

But I'm sure he has moments when the problem of the yak business stares him in the face. Here he is, working hard day after day, and yet still no one eats yaks. Really, why eat yaks instead of cows? What's so great about yak meat? Yak meat has never been a big part of anyone's diet anywhere in the world. So my friend is faced with the basic question: why do you raise yaks?

I don't think this is a silly question at all. I think it's an important one — a really important one — and I'd like to answer it myself someday. Unfortunately, though, I can't now.

If you asked me this question, I'd have one of two reactions.

Either I'd think you were making fun of me for raising yaks, or I'd answer seriously. If I thought you were making fun of me, my reaction would depend on my model of your psychology. If I thought you were an arrogant jerk, I'd probably just snarl at you and walk away; there's no point in talking to someone who has such a low opinion of me that he thinks my job is ridiculous. On the other hand, if I thought you were just a bit confused, I'd explain to you that yaks are actually pretty useful animals.

If instead of snarling at you or explaining yaks to you, I answered your question seriously, that would probably mean that deep down I was insecure about being a yak farmer. That would make me want to justify my existence by listing all the good things about it: how yak farming is more pleasant than many jobs, how it gets me outdoors and close to nature and helps keep me fit and healthy etc.