Trust is a precious and often underappreciated quality in political, personal, and business relations. Trust fosters productive exchange and minimizes the burdens of cooperation. When trust is high, monitoring costs are low, surely a good thing, for when handshakes suffice, formal contracts are redundant. Trust fosters long-term success.

Consider Owenhouse, perhaps America’s best hardware store, a place where people always expect fair and competent service. The value of the trust, and hence goodwill, they’ve earned over the decades is high, and locals recommend Owenhouse without reservation.

We might expect different treatment from huge national firms. Recently, however, I had a pleasant surprise involving one such company, Patagonia.

Early this year, I was taken, unconscious after a fall, to our hospital ER. Their protocol required cutting off my clothing to assess my condition, move me, and insert appropriate IVs. Alas this required slitting my Patagonia jacket, a ranch worn, but still quite serviceable, garment. My wife, Ramona, discarded all but the jacket.

Weeks later I sent the jacket back to Patagonia with a note explaining its destruction. There was no flaw in the jacket, and I didn’t request a refund or replacement. Rather, I offered to pay for their repair, assuming they had the material and the means to do so. If not feasible to fix it, I requested they just discard or recycle it.

A month later I had heard nothing and assumed it had been discarded. I then received an unsigned form letter from Patagonia. It included the reference number of the jacket and a Patagonia debit card for $379 good in their catalogue or any store that carries their products.

I called their customer service number and explained that their jacket was not defective, I had no claim, and I’d be pleased to return the debit card. The lady answering my call said my situation had been discussed and that they couldn’t repair my jacket, but wanted to replace my ten-year-old jacket with one of equal value.

To her I said, thanks. To you I suggest, buy Patagonia. They, like Owenhouse, have earned customer loyalty.

Okay, a jacket is surely not a big deal, but what about an industrial tractor, a major purchase for me? A decade ago, I bought a six-year-old Ford industrial tractor from Kamp Implement in Belgrade, a Case-IH dealer.

Working on a slope, I discovered the hand break didn’t hold, a dangerous problem. The machine was clearly far out of warranty, and fixing it would be a big deal. The brake was internal so it needed to be split apart. (Don’t try this at home.)

I explained the problem to Kamp Implement, they brought a truck, loaded the machine, and replaced the brake at no charge to me. I always recommend Kamp Implement without reservation. It’s easy to deal with such responsible and honorable firms.

Not all local establishments demonstrate such trustworthiness and responsibility. Here’s another tractor story. A few years ago, I bought a Case Terratrac crawler, a heavy machine, from our local Kubota dealer. The owner assured me that if it needed repairs he could supply any needed parts.

I discovered that Case no longer carried parts for this old machine and shared this finding with the Kubota dealer. He again assured me that after-market parts are indeed available and he would supply them. Operating in trust, I bought the machine. Big mistake.

Alas, after buying it, I discovered both the engine and torque converter were fried. The machine would run on the lot, but was unusable for real work. Despite his promises, the Kubota dealer didn’t provide the promised parts. In short, he lied to move the machine off his lot and off his books. I am out thousands of dollars, am still looking for a serviceable Centennial 356 diesel engine for the tractor, and the dealer doesn’t return my calls.

The Kubota dealer sold junk to a trusting customer and perhaps gained on net. I learned which implement dealer to avoid, but tuition was expensive. When times are flush and many newcomers arrive wanting machines for ranchettes, this strategy may work. However, here, as in national politics, trust supports long-term success. Ultimately, character is destiny.