This post from Simplicius examines the greener pastures of less developed countries in comparison to the stifling regulations and social pressures of a modern Western country such as the United States.
Reflecting more deeply, one can’t help but wonder precisely why American cities feel so different. The American way of life revolves around perpetual advancement: the undying pursuit of the fabled ‘American Dream’, amounting essentially to the banality of material wealth. In what are commonly deemed ‘third world’ countries, the lack of widespread ‘opportunity’ for profitable careers tunes life to a different cadence. People are apt to simply ‘settle’ into basic, lower tier jobs as a way of life and be satisfied for it; the lack of alternative brings quiet contentment.
I have lived in third world countries and Western nations. But I do not believe that this is the divide that should be examined. It can be easy to romanticise a country such as Mexico when your own life in the USA is ground down by the weight of atomisation in the System. But having spent time in countries such as Uganda, I am not sure that I would wish that on anyone if the option to experience such enrichment is through being born there as a local Ugandan. A Westerner can live in such an environment and benefit from the advantages while always having a convenient way out the door.
The divide that interests me more is that between societies that champion the person as an individual as opposed to someone being an active part of a wider community. Nations such as the USA and Australia have pushed the idea of the individual being superficially the most important thing at the expense of family, community and national identity. In a city such as Perth in Australia, over 3 million people live in a large area with plenty of space for all, but the experience is one of being largely alone. In such a city it is rare that you know your neighbors, let alone regularly drop over for a pre-dinner drink. Such interactions must be carefully planned in advance, inserted into an electronic diary, and then often cancelled at the last minute as little Susie is having a bad day today.
But there are Western countries where this is not the norm, where the idea of the individual as being the most important thing is not pushed nearly as hard. Italy is a good example of this, and perhaps accounts for its popularity among foreign visitors. The Italian emphasis is on family and community, and this is reflected in their propensity for regular and spontaneous interactions with those of their immediate area. Indeed, it is a major reason why I have always gravitated towards this country.
True, Italian business is also stifled with bureaucratic intrusions, but they are often inefficient or easily circumvented. Anglos typically adhere to such regulations, and will more often than not inform on those not toeing the line. Italians make a national sport of doing their utmost to complain about and avoid at all costs any government interference in their lives.
Having a menial job is not looked down upon in Italy as it is in other Western countries. The scourge of materialism does not dominate as much here. However, it must be said that some jobs such as a parking inspector would be a source of familial embarrassment if a son or daughter should accept such shameful employment.
Italians earn less but make it go further, and by doing so they appreciate more the good things that are on offer. Their elderly are rarely banished to the black holes of retirement or nursing homes. It must be said that there is a crisis in the small number of babies being born to the newer generations, and they are firmly down the road of the secular disease. It is not all a perfect picture paradise.
Another interesting aspect of Italian life is that there is no such thing as a red or blue political state. People do not identify so strongly here with their political affiliations. Liberals are mixed in with conservatives, and you will find all groups drinking contentedly together in the local bar. There is much less of a desire for social ambition; it is enough that you are pleasant company and buy a few rounds on your birthday.
I have also noticed that countries which favor the group as opposed to the individual are most often very pleasant places to walk, with Italy being an excellent example. On the other hand, countries that favor the individual are very often hostile to the act of getting around on one’s two feet. During my time in a small town in Louisiana I quickly discovered that it was not only undesirable but impossible to walk the streets. There were few sidewalks, and the roads were wide and devoid of shade. Even though it was not a large town, the fact that everyone drives meant that the roads were always busy; crossing the street in front of my hotel to reach the bar on the other side of the road was fraught with risk at any time of the day or night.
In societies focused on the individual, people are reduced to economic units, and the faster and more efficiently that these economic units can be moved from place to place to spend their money and consume then the more that profits will rise. Dawdling along shaded and narrow streets while stopping to talk to people you know is anathema to this idea of economic management. The only people that walked the streets in Louisiana were the homeless and any unfortunate visitors who still hadn’t worked out the true nature of things.
Today was market day, and I ambled into the center of town on foot to indulge in some potato fries from a little stall, one of my few vices of note. I stopped to chat to a few people that I know, and inspected the wares of a few stalls that I had not seen before. The piazza and streets of the small town were crowded with the last vestiges of summer tourists. A vendor I knew hailed me from behind his long tables of merchandise, and we crossed the street to one of the bars and raised a glass of prosecco together. Then I ambled back the way I came to go again about my day, with a good hour in the market behind me. An hour well spent in a community, but an hour wasted and never to be regained if I was to be viewed as a purely economic unit of individualism.
Originally published at Pushing Rubber Downhill. You can purchase Adam’s books here.
