Together, yet apart: Crisis of unsocial sociability
UNSOCIAL sociability: this phrase best describes the condition of our contemporary life, particularly in urban spaces. We live in close proximity to other people in overcrowded cities with blocks of high-rise apartments standing next to each other. Unlike many American suburbs, where most houses stand apart, some distance away from others, our suburbs and extended urban cities have clusters of housing, where people are inevitably thrown together. If aliens were hovering in the skies above, they would be struck by the extraordinary social-ness of these spaces.
The paradox is that this social existence is marked by unsocial behaviour. Although we routinely assume that sharing a space would generate common concerns and engender friendships, conviviality and the sentiment of care, the reality is quite different. Impatience, anger, offensive behaviour, violent outbursts and, at times, physical assault, abound in this social world.
Seemingly minor issues, such as parking one’s car in the available vacant space by the side of the road, asking someone with a pet to take the next lift and slight delay in opening the front gate by the guard, provoke extremely hostile reactions, with friends and family joining in and taking the quarrel forward. These occurrences have become the staple diet in local news.
Most of us, even those who are not actively in service or working, don’t seek out remote, isolated places to live in, except for very brief intervals; yet, being with other people proves a strain. Jean Paul Sartre’s words, “Hell is the other people", has taken a new reality where a minor difference of opinion can quickly escalate and be seen as a personal affront.
What often ensues is a game of one-upmanship aimed at reasserting one’s superiority. This is the disturbing but unavoidable state of our present-day existence and there seems to be no escape from it.
This routinisation of violence is commonly associated with stress that accompanies the dream of realising high aspirations in an extremely unpredictable market system. Undoubtedly, the environment in which most of us work and live is stressful, but this element does not adequately explain or capture the present reality.
The friction and antagonism that surface with such regularity in daily life point to the emergence of a self that is simultaneously riddled with anxiety and self-certitude. It strongly desires affirmation and recognition (which must necessarily come from others) but acts with the belief that it possesses the truth. If the former pushes towards sociability, the latter renders the other, particularly those who differ, dispensable. In this relationship, it is only the self (me and those standing alongside me) that has value and merits consideration. There is simply no need or justification for the other.
It is, therefore, not surprising that such an individual (the self) is willing, and even enthusiastic, about forming groups and actively participating in its activities. One might think that an unsocial self, for whom others are an encumbrance, would stand alone and find the collective unbearable.
But this is not the case, and it reaffirms that unsocial sociability is not the expression of an alienated being, who seeks solace in community and other identity-based gatherings.
Had the desire to belong been the primary motivation, then community membership would have acted as a soothing balm. It would have nudged out the aggressive and violent behaviour. Again, this is not the case. If anything, both the individual and the collective exhibit the same tendencies and behave in remarkably similar ways. Both find the presence of others irksome, if not also a problem.
The troublesome reality is that unsocial sociability is marking its presence everywhere, from routine social interaction in common spaces to community life. The space offered by social media is no different. Here too the individual seeks out others; competes to garner more ‘likes’ often from people unknown to them; lives with this anxiety to get greater recognition, but exudes confidence and has no room for self-doubt. It creates a social word but its utterances frequently take an unsocial form.
Are these seemingly contradictory tendencies yet another manifestation of schizophrenia that is unavoidable in the modern world — something that the French philosophers Gilles Deleuze and Pierre-Félix Guattari allude to in a different context? Are we condemned to live with it in the age of globalisation and neo-liberalism?
Faced with the vicissitudes of modern life — its utilitarian ethic, endless desire for power, control and domination and never-ending struggle to stay ahead of others — many philosophers turned to the ancient civilisations, including the ancient Indian civilisation, in order to recover from it an alternative, non-utilitarian ethic. Should we also turn to that civilisational core? Does hope lie there?
Perhaps, the more relevant question for us is — are we ready to refashion the self? Are we prepared to abandon the language of power, domination and eliminating competition — elements that are the hallmark of the contemporary modern self? The ancient wisdom underlined the path of self-restraint, self-discipline with a view to minimising anger, greed and lust for power, awareness of the limits of one’s self and the continuing search for truth, which led them to take their adversaries seriously, engage with them and persuade them. Are we ready to walk down that path and explore its potential?
The cultivation of the self was central to the ancients: it formed the core of our civil-isation. In its absence, we are more likely to remain trapped in a world of unsocial sociability.
Gurpreet Mahajan is former Professor of Political Science, JNU.
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