The loss of the organic .
. .
Ernest Hemingway wrote
that a man on his own has no chance. So
isolating oneself in expectation of disaster is never going to work. It is like survivalists in America, building
retreats in the woods in face of some anticipated apocalypse. They might as well put up signposts saying
‘here be food and guns’. Because really
that is what they are doing, stockpiling things for others much tougher—and
there’s always someone tougher—to take off them.
And
yet we live in a world beset by war and rumours of war and the threat of all
sorts of economic, ecological and other disasters.
So
what is one supposed to do, other than hide one’s head under the blankets?
For
a long, long time now, I have believed that communities need to deliberately
foster a local resilience, not necessarily in expectation of disaster, yet that
will stand them in good stead should disaster in any event come. It is more than simply a matter of community
spirit, though such a thing is important in itself; it is rather a deliberate
policy of looking at things in terms of the community as a whole and seeing
what needs to be and what can be done on a practical level to insure the
ongoing health and survivability of the social organism.
Now
when I talk of community here, I am talking of localities and the people who
live in them—and not in the nowadays fashionable terms of communities of this
and communities of that—the gay community, the immigrant community, the
journalistic community, the faith community and all other such neologisms.
For
the fact is that real communities have traditionally been at the the root of healthy
societies. Neglect such roots and the
whole social structure is quite likely to come down, not immediately, but perhaps
suddenly, when placed under challenge, like a rotten tree in a storm.
In
the same sense as studies have shown that the most effective committees occur
within the range of 4 to 8 members—above or below that and efficiency begins
immediately to taper off—so also there seem to be parameters for
community. These parameters suggest that
the upper and lower limits for effective communities lies between 100 and 250
individuals, with the optimum number set around 150. And there seems to be
historical evidence as well as scientific evidence to underline these
conclusions.
It
seems also that these figures refer only to adult acquaintances, so that the
numbers can be inflated upwards by allowing for children.
The
same research tends to show that the individual human being can really only organically
integrate with others within these same parameters. And it is these parameters that control the
possibility of forming true communities: communities which act like mutual-aid
and mutual-defence societies, where everyone knows everyone else, and each can
depend on the backing of the rest in the general vicissitudes of life, as they
effect the community.
It
is exactly such circumstances that allow for the development of community-based
institutions that involve a high degree of trust, such as credit unions. Where credit unions stray beyond the
boundaries of such long-accumulated local knowledge and experience, they often tend
to run into trouble.
Yet
the fact is that the existence of such communities is becoming less and less a
reality—what with ease of transport and immigration and town-to-country and
country-to-town migration. It would be comparatively
rare to find a community nowadays that has been allowed enjoy its own slow process
of natural fermentation undisturbed by at least some of the factors mentioned
above.
Yet
at the same time one can’t turn back the clock, no matter how much is being
lost in this process of, if you like, social and cultural ‘globalisation’. The best that can be done is, like
shipwrecked sailors, to try and rescue what can be rescued from the
disaster. Especially in a world, the way
it is, that may not allow for very much time.
More anon . . .