For most of human existence we, like all creatures, have lived in a world where scarcity looms over us, perhaps not in this moment, but will we bump into it around the next bend?
Who will help us when famine, poverty, or illness barge into our lives? Admittedly, I have not studied this, so I'm venturing out on a frozen lake in April here, but I suspect the answer is, those who are closest to us - those who are part of our "community" (however we define it).
There are many situations where banding as a community helps: "We will together guard our flocks of animals and the scarce grazing land from other communities. There is not enough for everyone, so it's us or them!" Charity and support to some, but not others, was part of survival.
It is brutally callous to ask this, but while the un-housed population you mention in your post live in your city, are the part of the "community?" Do they contribute something of value to the rest of the community? If the community cannot see value in having them be part of the community, then it is likely they will be perceived to be "outsiders" and unwelcome.
I'm not sure this is greed; I think it is part of human fabric, woven by the savage realities of evolution in a hostile world.
Perhaps community is shrinking in this day and age, because our survival does not depend on it much anymore. As C.J. points out in his comment, when survival is threatened, we can suddenly come together - community suddenly matters. Does our happiness depend on community? Your post suggests "yes," and I agree.
My view is rather bleak and perhaps raises the question of how then do I explain the actions of some people who step outside of their communities to run soup kitchens, shelters, and out reach programs? Why are they helping those outside their community? I don't yet have a good answer to that, but maybe I will not look too closely because I really want to believe they are expressing another behaviour that, if we are lucky, is inherent in humans. One that may help us live on this increasingly stressed earth together.
Hi Dan, thanks for taking the time! Much appreciated. Your question about the homeless in my community is literally exactly what my husband said yesterday when he read my post. The fact is, many of those people are not part of the wider community in that they contribute much of value, if anything at all. That, of course, is part of the problem. I find that most people (myself included) will go to the ends of the earth to help people as long as they perceive the person (a) wants help, and (b) is making at least some effort at trying to help themselves. No one appreciates just throwing assistance into a black hole. People get emotionally exhausted by that and then just check out, understandably. To compound the homeless problem in my community was also the fact that in 2020 we passed a law allowing open use and possession of small amounts of all drugs. It didn't turn out very well, probably needless to say. The addicted homeless population exploded, and many people came from places outside my city or even my state because they knew they could live here out in the open, use drugs, and not be prosecuted for it. So they were in a very literal sense not part of our community. As I mentioned in my post, the limits to tolerance were then reached. That law was repealed a year ago.
I do believe, however, that compassion is inherent in humans, otherwise I suppose, in our "biological animal" model for the human species, mothers would eat their young, right? I think it's in us for preservation as well. It's just, as you said, we live in an often hostile world and so we are more often reacting to that negativity rather than having more opportunities to create positivity through care.
I'm no Pollyanna, but I do believe that we should probably cling to whatever shreds of decency and compassion there are, otherwise life is a pretty bleak place, and I don't want to concede that and start wondering what's the point? I actually think, given the odds, it's a bloody cosmic miracle we're even here, so there must be something special about that fact, and we should try to make the most of it in all sorts of way including by caring for each other. Life is a short enough ride as it is so why not smooth it a bit? In the end, kindness is free, so to extend it, well, I say no harm, no foul.
For what it's worth, the city I live in has experienced something similar. In fact, I know the person who ran one of the supervised injection sites. I live a few kilometres from the epicentre of the drug crisis; it's a different world, but not so removed that my kids can't recognize someone doing the "fent bend." The front line is never far away.
I can see how we got here. People in the community were dying due to drug safety issues. So the community responded by creating supervised injection sites, which apparently did save lives. But, as you saw, that attracted so many users (who understandably did not want their addiction to kill or imprison them) that the neighbourhood changed. Businesses closed, people moved away, crime rose dramatically - the community was damaged, resentment (also understandably) rose.
I'm really grasping a straws when I say this (eye rolling is absolutely OK), but maybe on an individual level the first step to the compassion and decency we both hope humanity has is to let the facets of the problem sit with us until they no longer seem paradoxical: it is wrong for people to die of drug related causes, it is also wrong to destroy a neighbourhood. Written as they are, nothing about those two facts suggest they should be in contention - it doesn't have to be an either/or situation.
So, what is the answer? I don't know, but understanding the that problems can be separated gives me hope and maybe hope is the fuel for the compassion and decency the world needs. Maybe it isn't us or them.
Sorry, now that I read what I have written, I can see I've taken this discussion way off course. I'll simmer down now. Thanks for your wonderful post that started this.
Great article. It reminds me of something I encountered in a book recently. The name of the sociologist is escaping me at the moment, but the proposition was that humans really only work well together in large groups when faced with a common external threat. Think of the social cohesion of the greatest generation during WW2, and thereafter, contrasted by the individualism of the Baby Boomers and then hyper-individualism of gen X’ers, and so on. If we roll the clock back to pre-civilization, cooperation was fundamental to survival. But now that we’re all fat and comfortable, it’s just not worth the effort in most cases. It appears to be a learned behavior that, removed from its original context, doesn’t make much sense to us, but then again is foundational to our way of life because even though things are comfy now, they’re comfy because people worked together to make it that way. Great food for thought, thanks Terri! 😊
Thanks so much for reading and this comment brother :) I agree with you that once survival seems to not be under threat, then a sense of needing to help the community doesn't make much sense. That was my point as well at the individual level with compassion being a "luxury emotion." If someone is barely struggling to make it, it probably makes it much less likely they have the interest or resources to be able to help others. I also think of it sometimes from a psychology standpoint, which argues that it's actually imperative to help oneself first because if, for instance, a mother is not taking care of herself physically and mentally, how is she supposed to provide adequate support for a child? And your last point is spot on and why -- as you and I as historians have talked about a lot -- people need to remember their history. Once you lose touch with that, it's like having to start all over again, relearning the same lessons, mostly the hard way.
For most of human existence we, like all creatures, have lived in a world where scarcity looms over us, perhaps not in this moment, but will we bump into it around the next bend?
Who will help us when famine, poverty, or illness barge into our lives? Admittedly, I have not studied this, so I'm venturing out on a frozen lake in April here, but I suspect the answer is, those who are closest to us - those who are part of our "community" (however we define it).
There are many situations where banding as a community helps: "We will together guard our flocks of animals and the scarce grazing land from other communities. There is not enough for everyone, so it's us or them!" Charity and support to some, but not others, was part of survival.
It is brutally callous to ask this, but while the un-housed population you mention in your post live in your city, are the part of the "community?" Do they contribute something of value to the rest of the community? If the community cannot see value in having them be part of the community, then it is likely they will be perceived to be "outsiders" and unwelcome.
I'm not sure this is greed; I think it is part of human fabric, woven by the savage realities of evolution in a hostile world.
Perhaps community is shrinking in this day and age, because our survival does not depend on it much anymore. As C.J. points out in his comment, when survival is threatened, we can suddenly come together - community suddenly matters. Does our happiness depend on community? Your post suggests "yes," and I agree.
My view is rather bleak and perhaps raises the question of how then do I explain the actions of some people who step outside of their communities to run soup kitchens, shelters, and out reach programs? Why are they helping those outside their community? I don't yet have a good answer to that, but maybe I will not look too closely because I really want to believe they are expressing another behaviour that, if we are lucky, is inherent in humans. One that may help us live on this increasingly stressed earth together.
Hi Dan, thanks for taking the time! Much appreciated. Your question about the homeless in my community is literally exactly what my husband said yesterday when he read my post. The fact is, many of those people are not part of the wider community in that they contribute much of value, if anything at all. That, of course, is part of the problem. I find that most people (myself included) will go to the ends of the earth to help people as long as they perceive the person (a) wants help, and (b) is making at least some effort at trying to help themselves. No one appreciates just throwing assistance into a black hole. People get emotionally exhausted by that and then just check out, understandably. To compound the homeless problem in my community was also the fact that in 2020 we passed a law allowing open use and possession of small amounts of all drugs. It didn't turn out very well, probably needless to say. The addicted homeless population exploded, and many people came from places outside my city or even my state because they knew they could live here out in the open, use drugs, and not be prosecuted for it. So they were in a very literal sense not part of our community. As I mentioned in my post, the limits to tolerance were then reached. That law was repealed a year ago.
I do believe, however, that compassion is inherent in humans, otherwise I suppose, in our "biological animal" model for the human species, mothers would eat their young, right? I think it's in us for preservation as well. It's just, as you said, we live in an often hostile world and so we are more often reacting to that negativity rather than having more opportunities to create positivity through care.
I'm no Pollyanna, but I do believe that we should probably cling to whatever shreds of decency and compassion there are, otherwise life is a pretty bleak place, and I don't want to concede that and start wondering what's the point? I actually think, given the odds, it's a bloody cosmic miracle we're even here, so there must be something special about that fact, and we should try to make the most of it in all sorts of way including by caring for each other. Life is a short enough ride as it is so why not smooth it a bit? In the end, kindness is free, so to extend it, well, I say no harm, no foul.
For what it's worth, the city I live in has experienced something similar. In fact, I know the person who ran one of the supervised injection sites. I live a few kilometres from the epicentre of the drug crisis; it's a different world, but not so removed that my kids can't recognize someone doing the "fent bend." The front line is never far away.
I can see how we got here. People in the community were dying due to drug safety issues. So the community responded by creating supervised injection sites, which apparently did save lives. But, as you saw, that attracted so many users (who understandably did not want their addiction to kill or imprison them) that the neighbourhood changed. Businesses closed, people moved away, crime rose dramatically - the community was damaged, resentment (also understandably) rose.
I'm really grasping a straws when I say this (eye rolling is absolutely OK), but maybe on an individual level the first step to the compassion and decency we both hope humanity has is to let the facets of the problem sit with us until they no longer seem paradoxical: it is wrong for people to die of drug related causes, it is also wrong to destroy a neighbourhood. Written as they are, nothing about those two facts suggest they should be in contention - it doesn't have to be an either/or situation.
So, what is the answer? I don't know, but understanding the that problems can be separated gives me hope and maybe hope is the fuel for the compassion and decency the world needs. Maybe it isn't us or them.
Sorry, now that I read what I have written, I can see I've taken this discussion way off course. I'll simmer down now. Thanks for your wonderful post that started this.
Great article. It reminds me of something I encountered in a book recently. The name of the sociologist is escaping me at the moment, but the proposition was that humans really only work well together in large groups when faced with a common external threat. Think of the social cohesion of the greatest generation during WW2, and thereafter, contrasted by the individualism of the Baby Boomers and then hyper-individualism of gen X’ers, and so on. If we roll the clock back to pre-civilization, cooperation was fundamental to survival. But now that we’re all fat and comfortable, it’s just not worth the effort in most cases. It appears to be a learned behavior that, removed from its original context, doesn’t make much sense to us, but then again is foundational to our way of life because even though things are comfy now, they’re comfy because people worked together to make it that way. Great food for thought, thanks Terri! 😊
Thanks so much for reading and this comment brother :) I agree with you that once survival seems to not be under threat, then a sense of needing to help the community doesn't make much sense. That was my point as well at the individual level with compassion being a "luxury emotion." If someone is barely struggling to make it, it probably makes it much less likely they have the interest or resources to be able to help others. I also think of it sometimes from a psychology standpoint, which argues that it's actually imperative to help oneself first because if, for instance, a mother is not taking care of herself physically and mentally, how is she supposed to provide adequate support for a child? And your last point is spot on and why -- as you and I as historians have talked about a lot -- people need to remember their history. Once you lose touch with that, it's like having to start all over again, relearning the same lessons, mostly the hard way.