In 1951, author Ray Bradbury published his short story “The Pedestrian,” which follows an old man walking along sterile sidewalks with no sign of human contact in the year 2053. This story is often taught in schools as the onset of American dystopian fiction. Those who have studied it will recall it ending with the old man’s arrest and institutionalization for displaying “regressive tendencies.”
Many of us have read forewarning stories like “The Pedestrian” as part of our education’s effort to forge us into proactive citizens. We annotated with our pastel highlighter sets, wrote our reflection essays and finally chalked it all up as a fun opportunity to read something “different” for once. But now, is it possible that the warnings of Bradbury were ignored? Are we curating a world not far off from the same dystopias we studied depicting humanity’s downfall?
Despite the world’s constant turn, I encourage you to imagine this downfall already underway. When was the last time you asked a cashier, “How’s it going?” and cared enough to actually expect a response more personal than “Good. Cash or credit?” I imagine most of us would struggle to pinpoint such a generous interaction, and in this there is no shame — but why is such impersonality so normalized, and what does it tell us about the state of our society?
These developments have spawned a universal truth that thrives to this day: conducting oneself efficiently is the most reliable method of survival.
The virality of impersonality can be diagnosed as a product of western industrialization in the mid-19th century. As factories spread across Europe, workers of all sexes and ages were crammed into dangerous conditions and assigned work days that erased leisure in the name of magnified productivity. As Karl Marx noted, “mere social contact begets in most industries an emulation … of the animal spirits that heighten the efficiency of each individual workman.”
This relentless quest toward productivity had lasting effects on how workers viewed each other, coercing them to surrender their empathy in the name of getting through their shifts. As Friedrich Engels said, “this conflict between productive forces and modes of production … exists in the facts, objectively, outside of us, independently of the will or purpose even of the men who brought it about.”
These developments have spawned a universal truth that thrives to this day: conducting oneself efficiently is the most reliable method of survival. Like coal miners burdened with black lung, the spirit of industry has sickened us.
This progression is studied throughout the work of German sociologist Max Weber, who described it as a societal shift toward “rationalization.” A rationalist society, Weber said , is organized based on a means-end paradigm that discards all other procedures that do not maximize output. Western capitalism, eat your heart out.
When we are so routinely conditioned to view ourselves as corporate statistics, we tend to treat each other as such.
It is this rationalization that has given us worldwide fast-food corporations, mass-media conglomerates and identical suburban neighborhoods. It has even exchanged human cashiers in favor of self-checkout kiosks that provide the same predictable, impersonal experiences every time.
When the social organizations surrounding us are getting colder and colder, it is only inevitable that our perceptions of each other become frigid themselves. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy says that rationalization, “according to Weber, entails objectification (Versachlichung). Industrial capitalism, for one, reduces workers to sheer numbers in an accounting book, completely free from the fetters of tradition and non-economic considerations.”
When we are so routinely conditioned to view ourselves as corporate statistics, we tend to treat each other as such. We begin to adopt social mindsets that restrict the value we place on others to their potential as tools for us to get what we want; if a person is irrelevant to our individual goals, then why should we even treat them like one?
Technology and social media provide the ideal arena for this disdain. We desperately try to package ourselves into aesthetics and explore page-friendly boxes that make us appear unique — and therefore a bit superior — to others. When we’re all just cogs in a machine, we differentiate ourselves by fighting over who can be the most aesthetically pleasing statistic. As Weber wrote, “One can, in principle, master all things by calculation.” We calculate who we surround ourselves with, what locations we frequent, and in the process deem all other interactions as unworthy of our consideration.
Performative self-actualization results not only in a lack of care for our fellow humans, but a dangerous assumption that this lack of care is always reciprocated. However, this is far from the truth. A study by the American Psychological Association found that when strangers were paired for conversation, they “seemed to imagine that revealing something meaningful or important about themselves in conversation would be met with blank stares and silence, only to find this wasn’t true in the actual conversation.”
Losing optimism in our interactions puts our ability to defend ourselves against dystopias like Bradbury’s in grave danger. When we are so infatuated with ourselves and disillusioned by others, we lose our sense of empathy. Without the empathy that comes from talking with our neighbors or local business owners, we have no community, and when we have no community, there is no united front against corrupt legislation.
It is by design that we are so estranged from one another, because when we fail to acknowledge each other’s humanity, our governing institutions are more capable of exploiting us without notice. They strip us of our rights while we are too busy positioning our artisan coffees to post on our Instagram stories.
The systemic subterfuge especially comes into play during times of political strife, such as an election year. The political system has effectively rationalized itself, knowing that it can act reprehensibly without fear of the people banding together — we can barely even engage in healthy small talk.
While such realizations can be frightening, we should feel empowered knowing that we have radical defensive power just by getting to know our fellow person; such preventative measures would not have been put in place if this was not true.
As we move into the future — especially toward Election Day on Nov. 5 — encourage yourself to connect with those around you, whether familiar or unknown. Talk to the people in the elevator; ask the bodega owner about their family; learn how our world has impacted your fellow person; in doing so, we will learn how to face it together.
Whether or not you decide to start a conversation with a stranger will not be the death of you, but it could mean forfeiting our strongest defense against turbulent times.