Individualism or Solidarity?
Sociological Meanderings Towards Collective Well-Being
As we’ve made our way through the Week Three material — Durkheim, Scott, and the ideas of solidarity and “toxic solidarity” and “dangerous dependencies” — I’ve been thinking about a song by one of my favorite musicians. The song is called “Revolutionary Love,” and it makes me think of Durkheim’s crucial quote:
“Surely there can be no solidarity between others and us unless the image of others unites itself with ours.”
And Durkheim’s point lines up with the song lyrics: “I will see no stranger, only parts of myself” (DiFranco, 2021). That is, when we see others — even, or especially, strangers — we should see ourselves, as our needs are interconnected. Sociologically speaking, I can only be well if you, too, are well. As I state in the lectures, my ability to eat the food that I eat is connected to your ability to pay your tuition; your ability to get a degree, and in turn a new job or a raise, and thus groceries, is connected to my ability to show up to work and teach, which is itself dependent upon my access to food security. Thus, we are in an interconnected, interdependent relationship, one that helps us all meet our basic needs (in this example, eating).
Mills and Collins both encouraged us, when thinking sociologically, to look beyond the lens of our own experiences, beyond the micro level, to explore the macro level of social structure. I want to emphasize what that means in the context of people who are struggling to make ends meet, particularly those who are in “dependency relationships” that are “dangerous” (Scott). Using the sociological perspective here means looking at how social institutions are organized, and exploring the ways in which that organization shapes the context within which people make choices. So, as sociologists, we will not look at any given individual and assess whether or not they are making the “right” or the “wrong” choices; we will not praise one person’s “good” choice while critiquing another person’s “bad” choices. Instead, we will explore the ways in which social policy shapes the kinds of choices we have access to, and the ways in which our social position (e.g. race, class, gender) further constrains or enables this access.
So, a sociological conversation about welfare isn’t really a conversation about the individual people on welfare and an exploration of, nor judgement of, the personal choices they’ve made. Instead, as Scott points out, the sociological conversation is about how the policy itself is what produces “dangerous dependencies” (Scott, 2002). The choices that the women in this study had access to were constrained by a policy that limits their support, thus pushing them into “dangerous dependencies.” Their choice was and is always the same: they feed their kids. The question is: how does social organization shape how we come to feed ourselves and our kids?
During the COVID pandemic, we have reorganized many of our welfare policies, and according to Craig Gunderson, a professor of Economics at Baylor University, this has been successful in addressing food (in)security during the past two years:
So much so that we’ve seen a decline in child poverty due to governmental programs. No amount of bootstrapping would allow for upward mobility. Rather, it’s people’s work, ingenuity and dedication IN RELATIONSHIP with necessary governmental policies of support.
Because sociology is the study of society, and society is an organized collection of people bound by a particular time and place, that means that social organization changes. This point is important: we need not get stuck in defeat. So often I hear (and sometimes say myself in my human moments of frustration) people say things like: “it’s always been this way,” or “it will always be this way,” or other similarly defeatist sentiments. But history teaches us this isn’t true.
Heather Cox Richardson is a historian (if you’re curious, she earned her PhD from Harvard, and teaches at Boston College) who writes daily essays called “Letters from an American.” Her goal in these daily essays is to situate the present day’s history in the larger context of American history. Recently she pointed out that the American policy and ideological focus on individualism really started to strengthen in the 1980’s. Which is to say, individualism hasn’t always been something Americans have had such intense — and as I argue in the Week Three lectures, toxic — solidarity towards.
Why is our solidarity to the logic of individualism toxic? Because it plays a central role in our willingness to institute policies that push people into “dangerous dependencies” (Scott). If our society is organized around the valuation of “each woman for herself,” if she has no support (financial or otherwise) when she finds herself in an abusive relationship, then not only will she suffer, but we all will. That’s what Durkheim means when he talks about social solidarity, whether mechanical or organic: that our personal well-being is bound to the well-being of the collective.
And while some people think of Franklin D. Roosevelt and The New Deal policies of the 1930’s when they think of broad, governmental policies that provide a strong social safety net, Richardson pointed out recently that Abraham Lincoln was also a staunch advocate, thus highlighting that people who called themselves both Democrats and Republicans have advocated for government to play a strong role in helping to support all Americans.
What Lincoln said aligns with what Scott (2002) argued in the Week Three reading. Our dependence upon each other isn’t a problem, rather, it’s necessary and important and something to be cherished. I am not currently on welfare, but I am dependent upon the government in order to work. The government plays a role in paving the roads I drive on, in delivering the electricity and WiFi that powers my computer, in protecting my money that’s in the bank from my paychecks, in ensuring my safety while at work, just to name a few. And while the government is organizing these things, it is people — maybe even you, your family, your friends — who are working daily to keep the roads paved, the electrical grid in working order, the direct deposits coming through, the WiFi fast, the air purified, and the toilets cleaned, thus allowing me to come to work every day and teach. Which is to say, my “dependency relationships” are vast, and include everyone, somehow, in my circle of “dependency” (Scott). This is why this material makes me think of the song “Revolutionary Love.”
Happy learning, Dr. Monica
