Page 367. The Attack of Loneliness
To create a fulfilling emotional life and a sane psychosphere for the emerging civilization of tomorrow, we must recognize three basic requirements of any individual: the needs for community, structure, and meaning. Understanding how the collapse of Second Wave Society undermines all three suggests how we might begin designing a healthier psychological environment for ourselves and our children in the future.
To being with, any decent society must generate a
feeling of community. Community offsets loneliness. It gives people a
vitally necessary sense of belonging. Yet today the institutions on
which community depends are crumbling in all the technosocieties. The
result is a spreading plague of loneliness.
From Los Angeles to Leningrad, teen-agers, unhappy married
couples, single parents, ordinary working people, and the elderly, all
complain of social isolation. Parents confess that their children are
too busy to see them or even to telephone. Lonely strangers in bars or
launderettes offer what one sociologist calls "those infinitely sad
confidences." Singles' clubs and discos serve as flesh markets for
desperate divorcees.
Loneliness is even a neglected factor in the economy. How
many upper-middle-class housewives, driven to distraction by the
clanging emptiness of their affluent suburban homes, have gone into the
job market to preserve their sanity? How many pets (and carloads of pet
food) are bought to break the silence of an empty home? Loneliness
supports much of our travel and entertainment business. It contributes
to drug use, depression, and declining productivity. And it creates a
lucrative "lonley-hearts" industry that purports to help the lonely
locate and lasso Mr. or Ms. "Right."
Community demands more than emotionally satisfying bonds
between individuals and their organizations. Just as they miss the
companionship of other individuals, millions today feel equally cut off
from the institutions of which they are a part. They hunger for
institutions worthy of their respect, affection, and loyalty.
The corporation offers a case in point.
As companies have grown larger and more impersonal and have
diversified into many disparate activities, employees have been left
with little sense of shared mission. The feeling of community is
absent. The very term "corporate loyalty" has an archaic ring to it.
Indeed, loyalty to a company is considered by many a betrayal of self.
In The Bottom Line, Fletcher Knebel's popular novel about big
business, the heroine snaps to her executive husband: "Company loyalty!
It makes me want to vomit."
Except in Japan, where the lifetime employment system and
corporate paternalism still exist (though for a shrinking percentage of
the labor force), work relationships are increasingly transient and
emotionally unsatisfying. Even when companies make an effort to provide
a social dimension to employment - an annual picnic, a
company-sponsored bowling team, and office Christmas party - most
on-the-job relationships are no more than skin-deep.
For such reasons, few today have any sense of belonging to
something bigger and better than themselves. This warm participatory
feeling emerges spontaneously from time to time during crisis, stress,
disaster, or mass uprising. The great student strikes of the sixties,
for example, produced a glow of communal feeling. The antinuclear
demonstrations today do the same. But both the movements and the
feelings they arouse are fleeting. Community is in short supply.
One clue to the plague of loneliness lies in our rising
level of social diversity. By de-massifying society, by accentuating
differences rather than similarities, we help people individualize
themselves. We make is possible for each of us more nearly to fulfill
his or her potential. But we also make human contact more difficult.
For the more individualized we are, the more difficult it becomes to
find a mate or a lover who has precisely matching interests, values,
shedules, or tastes. Friends are also harder to come by. We become
choosier in our social ties. But so do others. The result is a great
many ill-matched relationships. Or no relationship at all.
The breakup of mass society, therefore, while holding out
the promise of much greater individual self-fulfillment, is at least for
the present spreading the pain of isolation. If the emergent Third
Wave society if not to be icily metallic, with a vacuum for a heart, it
must attack this problem frontally. It must restore community.
How might we begin to do this?
Once we recognize that loneliness is no longer an
individual matter but a public problem created by the disintegration of
Second Wave institutions, there are plenty of things we can do about it.
We can begin where community usually begins - in the family, by
expanding its shrunken functions.
The family, since the industrial revolution, has been
progressively relieved of the burden of its elderly. If we stripped
this responsibility from the family, perhaps the time has come to
restore it partially. Only a nostalgic fool would favor dismantling
public and private pension systems, or making old people completely
dependent on their families as they once were. But why not offer tax
and other incentives for families - including non-nuclear and
unconventional families - who look after their own elderly instead of
farming them out to impersonal old-age "homes." Why not reward, rather
than economically punish, those who maintain and solidify family bonds
across generational lines?
The same principle can be extended to other functions of
the family as well. Families should be encouraged to take a larger -
not smaller - role in the education of the young. Parents willings to
teach their own children at home should be aided by the schools, not
regarded as freaks or lawbreakers. And parents should have more, not
less, influence on the schools.
At the same time much could be done by the schools
themselves to create a sense of belonging. Instead of grading students
purely on individual performance, some part of each student's grade
could be more dependent on the performance of the class as a whole or
some team within it. This would give early and overt to the idea that
each of us has responsibility for others. With a big of encouragement,
imaginative educators could come up with many other, bettwe ways to
promote a sense of community.
Corpororations, too, could do much to begin building human
ties afresh. Third Wave production makes possible decentralization and
smaller, more personal work units. Innovative companies might build
morale and a sense of belonging by asking groups of workers to organize
themselves into mini-companies or cooperatives and contracting directly
with these groups to get specific jobs done.
This breakup of huge corporations into small, self-managed
units could not merely unleash enormous new peoductive energies but
build community at the same time.
Norman Macrae, deputy officer of The Economist, has
suggested that "Semi-autonomous teams of perhaps six to 17 people, who
choose to work together as friends, should be told by market forces what
module of output, and then should increasingly be allowed to produce it
in their own way."
Indeed, continues Macrae, "those who devise successful
group friendship cooperatives will do a lot of social good, and perhaps
will deserve some subsidies or tax advantages." (What is particularly
interesting about such arrangements is that one could create
cooperatives withing a profit-making corporation or, for that matter,
profit-making companies within the framework of a socialist production
enterprise.)
Corporations could also look hard at their retirement
practices. Ejecting an edlerly worker all at once not only deprives the
individual of a regular, full-size paycheck, and takes away what
society regards as a productive role, but also truncates many social
ties. Why not more partial retirement plans, and programs that assigm
semi-retired people to work for understaffed community services on a
volunteer or part-pay basis.
Another community-building device might draw retired people
into fresh contact with the young, and vice-versa. Older people in
every community could be appointed "adjunct teachers" or "mentors,"
invited to teach some of their skills in local schools on a part-time or
volunteer basis or to have one student, let's say, regurly visit them
for instruction. Under school supervision, retired photographers could
teach photography, car mechanics how to repair a recalcitrant engine,
bookkeepers how to keep books, and so on. In many cases a healthy bond
would grow up between mentor and "mentee" that would go beyond
instruction.
It is not a sin to be lonely and, in a society whose
structures are fast disintegrating, it should not be a disgrace. Thus a
letter writer to the Jewish Chronicle in London asks: "Why does
it seem 'not quite as nice' to groups where it is perfectly obvious that
the reason that everyone is there is to meet people of the opposite
sex?" The same question would apply to singles' bars, discos, and
holiday resorts.
The letter points out that in the shtetls of Eastern Europe the institutions of shadchan
or matchmaker served as a useful purpose in bringing marriageable
people together, and that dating bureaus, marriage services, and similar
agencies are just as necessary today. "We should be able to admit
openly that we need help, human contact and a social life."
We need many new services - both traditional and innovative
- to help bring lonely people together in a dignified way. Some people
now rely on "lonely-hearts" ads in the magazines to help them locate a
companion or mate. Before long we can be sure local or neighborhood
cable television services will be running video ads so prospective
partners can actually see each other before dating. (Such programs, one
suspects, will have enormously high ratings.)
But should dating services - or places - where people might
come simply to meet and make a friend, as distinct from a lover or
portential mate? Society needs such services and, so long as they are
honest and decent, we should not be emabarrassed to invent and use them.
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