In this third newsletter on political polarization1, I want to start with a fascinating chapter in Tom Nichol’s Our Own Worst Enemy. Nichols reports on research that political scientist Edward Banfield conducted in a small Italian village in the 1950s. Here is a telling paragraph:
Banfield created a term for this kind of civic disengagement, an academic mouthful that we will note in passing and then leave aside: amoral familism. Basically, it means a society in which people act in their own interest without regard to any moral code other than what they believe is best for them and their families. Civic involvement in such a society is a waste of time, a snare for suckers. In a place like Montegrano, Banfield observed, values greater than the self and the family are mostly irrelevant, because there is "no connection between abstract political principle," on the one hand, and "concrete behavior in the ordinary relationships" among the townspeople, on the other. It is a society in which people think that what's good for the family is the only real rule of politics, and ideas like "democracy of "socialism" or "communism" are mostly just so much noise (64).
Another telling quote comes a few pages later:
Rather than cooperate and endure any longer-term risk to their families, Banfield surmised, the villagers took what they could get in the near term and let the future be someone else’s problem (68).
Consider this quote when thinking about our inability to tackle Big Questions like Climate Change, Income Inequality, or Gun Safety. To return to my theme of the opening to this series; it’s a failure to pursue The General Welfare by focusing on the immediately local instead.
Nichols’ discussion of the Banfield research immediately reminded me of one of Robert Putnam’s books. In Our Kids: The American Dream in Crisis, Putnam reflects on social changes over the course of his lifetime. He reports on growing up in the 1950s in Port Clinton, Ohio and that while they knew about inequality there, people didn’t feel isolated by their social class standing. In his analysis, he comes to a striking conclusion: where in the 1950s the community might consider the new high school graduates as “our kids” (with a collective sense of “our”), fifty years later families with means seem particularly focused on the nuclear family as “our kids” (with a very narrow view of “our”).
In the former meaning of “our”, impacts of inequality based on class, gender, or marital status require some kind of response. In the latter meaning of “our”, these factors are irrelevant as long as OUR children are doing well. We might feel bad for those other kids, but will do little to ameliorate their situation.
Here’s a perverse outcome the results from this focus on local families: we want government to address the needs other kids (as long as it doesn’t interfere with MY kids!). Inequality is a problem in general but not in specific because my family is doing fine (which was my goal).
Last month, Derek Thompson had an intriguing article in The Atlantic. Titled “Everything is Terrible, but I’m Fine”, he documents a divergence between how people view their personal situation in contrast to their thoughts about The Economy.
Thompson suggests that constant news media coverage of how bad things are with inflation, supply chain issues, and gas prices encourages people to think the worst about economy in spite of what they see in their own family experience.
I’d argue that this is due to the loss of social capital that would have connected us to others. Those suburban homes are isolating. We don’t know enough about how others are managing and we simply assume the worst.2
Figuring out how to rebuild social capital in an age of angry social media posts is going to be a challenge. But it’s the only way to move away from “amoral familism”.
Besides, the media keeps showing us images of gas prices in big cities in California, which are 50% higher than the actual media price of gas.
Yuck- that was a poor response below from me. Rather meandering. I got a little emotional I think. The country is in such free fall, and no one seems to have the time to notice...
Great info John. Very interesting. My random comments-
In the graph you shared I can see the COVID pandemic having an influence … more social isolation, more pessimism about others while we hunker down and door-dash for pizza…a feeling that the nation is under threat. During those early, confusing quarantine days, a new neighbor moved in next to me and he walked over near our driveway to offer help on some work we were doing in the yard. I greeted him (from about 15 yards- he might be infected!), thanked him for the offer. We exchanged names, I told him we’d be fine, and he went back in his house. I seriously didn’t know how close I wanted him due to COVID. COVID was so new at that time, and the news online so dreadful. I wanted to stay away from anyone I didn’t have to live with. This was certainly a poor start with my new neighbor. Our neighborly relationship now is only slightly better.
We are indeed isolated in suburbia! And there are, as your post makes clear, there are many reasons for it.
My kids (ages 24 and 34) have the opinion that no one outside the immediate family cares about them in any way. Sadly, I think they may be right. The U.S. is now driven by stuff and dollars. [The legal drinking age is 21, in my state most people running for various elections must be 25 or above – yet the Uvalde shooter was able to buy an assault rifle at age 18. And let’s be honest, the age is low to sell more guns—it has nothing to do with the Constitution. There are of course many other examples where dollars mean more than people.]
When I was a child I remember that we knew all our neighbors. We did things for and with one another. We had no computers, no cell phones… we had a party line (do you know what that is?) and had to wait to make a call… a very different world. In many ways a better world.
I’d say more but this is too much. Thanks again for making me think. Have a blessed day!