We need a village

The past month has treated us to displays of dysfunction we haven't seen since before the 2020 election.

• Elon Musk, for no other reason than to show that he could, bought Twitter, which many consider to be a public square. In the almost-month that he's owned it, it has become worse than anyone could have imagined—and it was pretty bad already.
• Donald Trump, in a farcical attempt to avoid prosecution, declared his candidacy for the presidential election in 2024. His announcement, from all reports, was nothing but a show of grievance and claiming the mantle of victim. 
• In the midterm elections, the red wave failed to materialize, and the result was a slim majority for Republicans to take over in the House. Ever since, their announced program has focused on their pet pathologies, not on actually doing anything for the people they claim to serve. 
• Over the weekend we had the tragedy at Club Q in Colorado Springs, where a terrorist ginned up by the hateful rhetoric on the Right conducted a pogrom against gay clubgoers. Sadly, although beaten to a bloody pulp, the terrorist survived, brought down by an Army veteran and the queers he sought to eliminate, sure of his own superiority.

Yesterday, I saw this post by Wil Wheaton, written in response to Elon Musk mocking musician Trent Reznor for leaving Twitter:

To say this catalyzed thought in me would be an understatement. What Mr. Wheaton wrote touched on subjects I've thought about and written about on this blog. 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It is the one uniquely American holiday, and one where the fingers of commerce are not to intrude. Families gather to offer thanks for the gifts they've received over the year, and for being able to be together once again.

But, of course, such an anodyne description doesn't capture the complexity of the holiday, or of the society in which it takes place. Oftentimes these gatherings are stressful. Arguments will be had, anger will be expressed, and a holiday which in theory is devoted to life and light becomes yet another excuse to engage in recriminations and invective.

And this led me to this thought:

This is yet another plot point in "Hilary was right": The fact that so many of us were NOT raised by a village explains a lot of the sociopathy and dysfunction rampant in the world. She was derided when she published her book It Takes a Village to Raise a Child. Oh, I remember it well; the angry voices averring that no, it takes a mother and a father and anything else is communist claptrap and social engineering. The idea of the nuclear family is sacrosanct in the United States. It is an offshoot of the cult of individualism and competition which drives so much of our culture. Parents should rely upon their own resources; if they don't, they're failures not only as parents, but as Americans, and, dare I say, as human beings.

I wasn't raised by just my parents; my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my siblings, and my cousins all had a hand in forming who I am. Family friends influenced me and guided me. Teachers, priests, nuns helped to guide me. My friends were family for when I felt distanced from my blood relatives. I was nestled in an interconnected social web, one which worked to make sure I didn't fall through the cracks. And that has made all the difference in my life. 

The atomization of families in modern America, their relegation to autochthony and blind self-reliance, goes against most of human history. It goes against how most of the world lives even now. This is a result of our political and economic system. Bonds of community aren't profitable. Bonds of community are a threat to the programs of those who would be our masters. People who are isolated are easy to control. A single parent trying to raise a child with no outside help is ripe for domination. I need that job to keep my child in school, to keep us housed and fed. I won't make waves. If people could rely on their communities, on their familial and friend networks, well, that would put a spanner in the works. Strong communities and social networks are anathema to a quasi-authoritarian system. The lack of them leads to anxiety, to apathy, to nihilism, to despair. People retreat into their own shells, unable to reach outside of them.

Recreating these social ties would be the most revolutionary act we could undertake as a nation. I'm not saying they don't exist; but they're not honored. They're seen as a luxury, when in fact they are the basis for any free state. Atomized individuals are easier to subjugate than communities fighting for each other. We've seen again and again in our history that unity of purpose sweeps away efforts to control and overbear. There is wisdom in that dark thought that "they can't kill all of us".

We have to rediscover the villages to which we can belong. But these can't be isolated instances. Discrete communities can also be picked off one by one. We, again, need a unity of purpose. None of us advance unless we all advance. No village will be pleasant unless all villages are pleasant. Freedom and responsibility must go hand in hand.

I think we're getting to the point where we're acknowledging that. It will be a long road. But this human race is a family which has been split asunder for too long. We are facing environmental collapse and the end of this grand experiment because of it. We need to find our villages, and what makes us like each other.