We’re better together
There’s nothing like a pandemic to remind us of the power of relationships
NO AMOUNT OF REDISTRIBUTION THAT
CAN FULLY ACCOUNT FOR THE UNEQUAL
DISTRIBUTION OF LOVE, ENCOURAGEMENT
AND SUPPORT. — SEAN SPEER
It’s an oddity of human nature that we often have to lose something in order to fully appreciate it. The coronavirus and the accompanying restrictions on travel and gatherings have separated many of us from family and friends, including over the holidays. There’s nothing like a oncein- a- century pandemic to remind us of the power of relationships.
We can certainly underestimate it in normal times. A popular yet false narrative characterizes modern life as a binary interplay between the individual and the state. Remember the controversy over U. S. president Barack Obama’s infamous remark, “you didn’t build that,” in which he argued that the government (including public education, infrastructure and research and development) was behind much of individual achievement? It became a flash point for a polarized debate about whether individuals or the government are ultimately responsible for people’s success.
Yet both sides were wrong. Personal success is typically neither the result of solitary pursuit nor bestowed by a benevolent state. It’s usually a consequence of the contributions and sacrifices of one’s family and friends. It’s why NHL draft picks thank their parents or award- winning movie stars recognize their spouses or successful entrepreneurs acknowledge their friends. They implicitly understand that their accomplishments are shared with those closest to them.
This is hardly a profound insight. Most readers would recognize that we don’t live as abstract individuals but as spouses, parents, siblings, children and friends. Our
day- to- day lives are marked by relationships.
Yet the hyper- individualism of the left and right often misses this. Their theory is far less impressive than the real- life practice. It fails to treat people according to how they actually live.
This gap between theory and practice can spill into our political and policy debates. Take inequality for instance. We regularly debate the right tax and transfer policies to address it. This is useful and important. But at a certain point, we risk treating inequality as if it’s merely an accounting exercise.
The truth is that inequality is often an expression of unequal endowments. Public policy can partly adjust for different levels of income or wealth. That’s easy enough. But it’s much harder to correct for endowments that
are bound up in family and social life. There’s no amount of redistribution that can fully account for the unequal distribution of love, encouragement and support.
Famous investor Warren Buffett sort of gets at this point when he talks of the “ovarian lottery,” to describe his inherent advantages of being born white, male and in the United States. While it’s manifestly true that these endowments gave him a powerful head start, they’re not the full story. Buffett has also frequently spoken about how love and friendships have been instrumental to his personal success. As he once told Bill Gates, “The friends you have will form you as you go through life.”
The pandemic has been a powerful reminder of the importance of love and
friendships in our lives. The fortunate ones among us have been sustained by family and friends during this challenging time. We’ve worked across the kitchen table from our spouses, had video conferences with parents, grandparents and siblings, and kept up on sports and politics in chat groups with friends. These interactions haven’t been a proper substitute for being together, but they’ve helped make the past year much more bearable.
For many others, however, the pandemic has been a painful experience of loneliness, isolation and loss. An October survey from the Angus Reid Institute, for instance, found that nearly 30 per cent of Canadians felt “very isolated” and one quarter said that they were “very lonely.” The crisis has
exposed an unequal distribution of relationships within our society.
There’s a natural tendency for politicians and experts to want to fix the problem. Even prior to the pandemic, the British government launched a “loneliness strategy” to address what it described as “one of the greatest public health challenges of our time.”
The strategy, which involves various programs and policies such as funding for community spaces and volunteering, has been in place for about two years. It’s too early to know if it’s made much of a difference, but there’s reason to be somewhat skeptical.
What makes the unequal distribution of relationships such a vexing challenge is that it’s wrapped up in the complexities of the human
experience. Government may be able to help a bit on the margins, but it cannot possibly act as a substitute for meaningful relationships.
The ultimate solution lies within us. We need to commit ourselves to relationships — or what New York Times columnist David Brooks calls “relationism.” Everyone has a role to play according to this communal vision. It will come from being better spouses, parents, friends and neighbours.
As 2020 comes to a merciful end, we’ve rediscovered our deep need for love and friendships and our collective responsibility for combating loneliness and isolation. The forthcoming year is an opportunity to live out these lessons in our homes, neighbourhoods and communities.