The last bastion of equality.
Adapted from ‘What Money Can’t Buy’ by Michael J Sandel.
We live in a world where those who are affluent and those who are of modest means increasingly lead separate lives. We live and work and shop and play in different places, and our children go to different schools. If the only advantage of affluence were the ability to buy yachts, sports cars, and fancy vacations, inequalities of income and wealth would not matter very much. But as money comes to buy more and more – political influence, good medical care, a home in a safe neighbourhood rather than a crime-ridden one, access to elite schools rather than failing ones – the distribution of income and wealth looms larger and larger.
A similar trend leads to withdrawal by the privileged from other public institutions and facilities. Private health clubs replace public leisure centres and swimming pools. Upscale residential communities hire private security guards and rely less on public police protection. A second or third car removes the need to rely on public transport, leaving them to those who can’t afford anything else. Where all good things are bought and sold, having money makes all the difference in the world.
This isn’t good for democracy, nor is it a satisfying way to live, even for the ‘haves’ as well as the ‘have nots’.
One of the most corrosive effects of these separate lives is on our sense of society, that we are all in this together because the more things money can buy, the fewer the occasions when people from different walks of life encounter one another.
A functioning democracy does not require perfect equality, but what it does require is that citizens share in a common public life. What matters is that people of different social backgrounds butt up against each other because this is what teaches us to negotiate and abide our differences. And this is how we come to care for the common good.
If a just society requires a strong sense of community, then it must find a way to cultivate in its citizens a concern for the whole, a dedication to the common good. This once happened relatively informally as the practical, often inadvertent civic education that takes place when young people from different economic classes, religious backgrounds and ethnic communities came together in common institutions. But these institutions that once gathered people together and served as informal schools of civic virtue have become few and far between. The hollowing out of public life makes it difficult to cultivate the solidarity and sense of community on which democratic citizenship depends. The challenge is to find a way for a democratic society as vast and disparate as ours to cultivate the solidarity and sense of mutual responsibility that a just society requires.
An interesting example comes from an unlikely sauce – the humble can of Coca-Cola. Everyone drinks the same can of Coke. It doesn’t matter whether you are the Queen of England, Richard Branson or a homeless beggar – if you want a can of Coke all you need is 75p. There’s no VIP or economy version. There’s just Coke.
Streets and other public spaces are similarly equitable. They are one of the few remaining places that we still all share. But even here a similar trend towards ever increasing levels of third party control over our interactions with each other is having equally corrosive effects, crowding out moral and civic commitments.
Given the chance, most people have quite a strong sense of civic responsibility. If we see someone drop their purse or wallet we would run after them to return it or if we see an elderly person get on to a train we may offer them our seat. The same applies to the way that we negotiate our streets – just watch a junction when the traffic lights have failed. However, the more that road users are told what they can and can’t do, where they can and can’t be and when they can and can’t go, the more that this sense of civic responsibility – that we are all in it together – gets eroded.
Conversely, by taking away this third-party control and encouraging everyone to navigate their own way through our streets and spaces you tend to find that this sense of civic responsibility returns. Strip away the conventional controls and it’s quite surprising how generous we can all be towards each other.
Altruism, generosity, solidarity, and civic spirit are not like commodities that are depleted with use. They are more like muscles that develop and grow stronger with exercise. One of the defects of a market-driven society and a state-controlled public realm is that it lets these virtues languish. To renew our public life we need to exercise them more strenuously.
We should be designing our streets and other public spaces to promote interactions that encourage empathy, generosity, thoughtfulness and attentiveness as social norms, as they are one of the few remaining, truly egalitarian places that we have.
A similar trend leads to withdrawal by the privileged from other public institutions and facilities. Private health clubs replace public leisure centres and swimming pools. Upscale residential communities hire private security guards and rely less on public police protection. A second or third car removes the need to rely on public transport, leaving them to those who can’t afford anything else. Where all good things are bought and sold, having money makes all the difference in the world.
This isn’t good for democracy, nor is it a satisfying way to live, even for the ‘haves’ as well as the ‘have nots’.
One of the most corrosive effects of these separate lives is on our sense of society, that we are all in this together because the more things money can buy, the fewer the occasions when people from different walks of life encounter one another.
A functioning democracy does not require perfect equality, but what it does require is that citizens share in a common public life. What matters is that people of different social backgrounds butt up against each other because this is what teaches us to negotiate and abide our differences. And this is how we come to care for the common good.
If a just society requires a strong sense of community, then it must find a way to cultivate in its citizens a concern for the whole, a dedication to the common good. This once happened relatively informally as the practical, often inadvertent civic education that takes place when young people from different economic classes, religious backgrounds and ethnic communities came together in common institutions. But these institutions that once gathered people together and served as informal schools of civic virtue have become few and far between. The hollowing out of public life makes it difficult to cultivate the solidarity and sense of community on which democratic citizenship depends. The challenge is to find a way for a democratic society as vast and disparate as ours to cultivate the solidarity and sense of mutual responsibility that a just society requires.
An interesting example comes from an unlikely sauce – the humble can of Coca-Cola. Everyone drinks the same can of Coke. It doesn’t matter whether you are the Queen of England, Richard Branson or a homeless beggar – if you want a can of Coke all you need is 75p. There’s no VIP or economy version. There’s just Coke.
Streets and other public spaces are similarly equitable. They are one of the few remaining places that we still all share. But even here a similar trend towards ever increasing levels of third party control over our interactions with each other is having equally corrosive effects, crowding out moral and civic commitments.
Given the chance, most people have quite a strong sense of civic responsibility. If we see someone drop their purse or wallet we would run after them to return it or if we see an elderly person get on to a train we may offer them our seat. The same applies to the way that we negotiate our streets – just watch a junction when the traffic lights have failed. However, the more that road users are told what they can and can’t do, where they can and can’t be and when they can and can’t go, the more that this sense of civic responsibility – that we are all in it together – gets eroded.
Conversely, by taking away this third-party control and encouraging everyone to navigate their own way through our streets and spaces you tend to find that this sense of civic responsibility returns. Strip away the conventional controls and it’s quite surprising how generous we can all be towards each other.
Altruism, generosity, solidarity, and civic spirit are not like commodities that are depleted with use. They are more like muscles that develop and grow stronger with exercise. One of the defects of a market-driven society and a state-controlled public realm is that it lets these virtues languish. To renew our public life we need to exercise them more strenuously.
We should be designing our streets and other public spaces to promote interactions that encourage empathy, generosity, thoughtfulness and attentiveness as social norms, as they are one of the few remaining, truly egalitarian places that we have.
