My favorite quote from this whole mess:

I do think it [the song mentioned in the first post] has more authenticity or relevance (whatever that is) than an East Midlands office worker singing about sailing round Cape Horn.

Thanks to whoever wrote that. Sorry, I didn't make a note of your name ~ but I suppose that's just one more example of the folk process at work, innit? ;^)

A few more isolated reations to various points that have come up:

In the 1960s, in the US, the song in question wold definititely have been a folk song, or more specifically a folk protest song. Perhaps not so today, expecially not in England (where there seems to be much more worry about this issue than elsewhere).

On the question of self-consciously "literary" phareology: I don't think the argument holds water that, to qualify as "folk song," a lyric must be simple to the point that it's less-than-impressive from a literary or poetic standpoint. As someone else pointed out, many old songs that we'd all agree upon as qualified folksongs include unique and impressive lyrical passages. Why?

~ Whoever wrote them (and, of course, every song was written by somebody, albeit in many cases several somebodies) was talented and, in fact, deserves credit for having created something memorable.

~ In many cases, English usage that was common in some long-gone time and place may now carry an exotic flavor and thus seem more impressive than it did in its own time. I'd venture a guess that more than a few lyrical formulations that we currently find greatly quaint and charming were not only less impressive in their own time, they may even have sounded awkward and forced to contemporaries.

~ This degree of exotic quality or unfamiliarity can develop over long periods of time, but songs of fairly recent vintage can have this quality if their origins are sufficiently alien to the listener. I'm thinking mostly of rural Southern blues from the 1920s/30s, which come from a society comepletely unknown to us today, not only to middle-class white folks born after WWII on either side of the ocean, but even to African-Americans, young and even old, living in today's cities. I think that many blues lyrics resound in an especially poetic manner not only because their language of origin is a variant of English largely unknown to most of us today. but also because the form enforces an extreme economy of style, with much more left unspoken than explicitly expressed.

And, my "final" (for now, anyway) word on "tradition" and "authenticity":

Singing that holds my interest is honest and expressive of the singer's own -personality and experience. I'm willing to allow that a singer can give a valid, honest, and deeply expressive performance of material that may not literally coincide with his/her real life, that requires an act of the imagination much akin to what a skilled actor does to craft a "true" stage or film performance.

Most of what I've learned to love as "folk music" meets this standard, but not every performance that claims "folk" status earns my approbation. Certainly, while I may feel a real connection to one or another early field recording of some traditional gem, I am not necessarily going to enjoy a pale imitation of that song put forward by someone who wasn't born when the recording was made ~ whether said singer is the mythical Midlands office worker mentioned above, or a profesisonal "folk" entertainer working the festival circuit (also mentioned earlier in this thread). That does not rule out the possibility that someone else ~ myself. maybe,or perhaps even you ~ might not be able to sing a version of that same old song that adequately captures its true feelings and intended message.

To extend the analogy from trad folk to trad jazz: there are highly skilled but wholly soulless ensembles all over the world who play perfect note-for-note recreations of classic recordings; many of them make annual pilgrimages to New Orleans and put on performances, and I very rarely find anything very moving or compelling about what they have to offer. This is not to say, however, that contemporary players cannot possibly recreate a true and authentic experience of this music. Every night, living breathing humans do a very nice job of it at Preservation Hall. (Many are native-born locals, of course, but there are plenty of honest and empathetic players who come from around the world to play old-style New Orleans jazz exactly the way it should be played.)

I'm not saying that a person who happens to believe that "folk" must be defined in a tightly restricted manner is necessarily going to be a mediocre, unfeeling musical performer. I'm sure that some can translate the same passion they bring to their academic arguments into some positive, passsionate feeling that comes across to the listener. But I'm equally sure that for many others, the restrictiveness of their outlook is clearly reflected in a lack of expression and, yes, even of musicality, in what little they have to offer as performers.

I believe that ~ all else being equal~ the best chance for a listener to experience authentic feeling and musical inspiration is by listening to a performer more interested in fun, love, and self-expression than in laying down rules and definitions.