I’m going to begin the new year with an
old subject, which reared its ugly head again last month, in a minor Facebook
kerfluffle. The posting an article about the
progress of Norristown’s Lafayette Street Project initiated the
discussion. I support the project, and
have made that clear in previous posts [3/11/16, 4/8/16, 1/6/17]. I replied to some people who were disparaging
it, and things took off from there. I
thought we would be discussing the merits—or lack of them—of the project, but I
was wrong. It turns out they weren’t
objecting to my position, but my right to have an opinion in the first
place. I don’t live in Norristown, you
see, so why should anyone listen to what I have to say?
I identified this “we don’t need
no outsiders telling us what to do” feeling as “parochialism,” and warned
against it. Further comments typical of
Facebook discussions followed, but one correspondent—to his great credit—elevated
the discussion by addressing my application of “parochialism” to the
situation. Taking me on directly, he argued
that:
"Parochialism "
isnt always a bad thing. It's a perfectly normal human response , best
crystallized in the family unit It creates a defense against wolves, effetes,
and self serving charlatans.
[1] After 43 years in Norristown I think a
return to rugged parochialism, exemplified by some of [name removed] and [name
removed]'s comments, may be the only thing left to save it.”
While I certainly agree that the family unit possesses internal defenses
against predatory outsiders, I’ve never heard that described as “parochialism.” Of course, I’m a “language Nazi,” because I
believe that both the proper words and proper grammar should be used in verbal
or written conversation (It’s an old-fashioned belief, I know, but that’s
because I’m old), so I have to take issue with this application of the word.
When I called the automatic rejection of an opinion because the author
doesn’t live in your community “parochialism,” I was employing the definition
Oxford Dictionaries offers: “a limited or
narrow outlook, especially focused on a local area; narrow-mindedness.” If that makes me an “effete,” then let me
also offer that I like the Wikipedia version: "Parochialism is
the state of mind, whereby one focuses on small sections of an issue rather
than considering its wider context."
Parochialism is not an ideology, or even a belief. It’s an instinct, hard-wired into the
non-rational depths of the human brain. The
brilliant Yuval Noah Harari, in Sapiens,
identifies both the source and the nature of “parochialism”:
“Evolution
has made Homo Sapiens, like other social mammals, a xenophobic creature. Sapiens instinctively divide humanity into
two parts, ‘we’ and ‘they’. We are
people like you and me, who share our language, religion and customs. We are all responsible for each other, but
not responsible for them. We are always
distinct from them, and owe them nothing.
We don’t want to see any of them in our territory, and we don’t care an
iota about what happens in their territory.”
I have several problems with parochialism, and one of them follows from
the fact that it is, as Harari points out, an instinct, a legacy of our eons
spent in small bands of hunter-gatherers.
In today’s interlocked and interdependent world, such ancient instincts
are almost always counterproductive. Appeals
to ancient instincts are not based on issues or positions, they are purely
tactics, intended to evoke a deep instinct to oppose something—or someone—for
no rational reason. They abound, and
exist within every town, township, or other political entity.
As I have a fresh and vivid opportunity to demonstrate just how
pernicious an appeal to parochialism can become, I’m going to use it: Alabama. The recent election offered a fresh lesson in
how a basic human instinct can be perverted to buttress an ignoble cause. When the Moore campaign could not refute the
charges against him, they appealed to parochialism, decrying the opinions of
“outsiders.” They did so because appeals
to parochialism evoke a powerful instinct, and not just in the South. Appeals to parochialism usually are
successful; the Moore campaign failed only because of the heinousness of the
issue they were trying to obfuscate.
Trump was considerably more successful.
Now please don’t confuse things by saying that I am “comparing Norristown
to Alabama.” I’m not; I’m talking about
parochialism. Alabama and Norristown
possess toolkits that are miles apart, but parochialism is the same tool, and
is found in both. That’s because parochialism
can have a continuum of possibilities; Alabama is just one on the extreme end
of the continuum.
Besides, condemnations of everyone in any political entity are
unjustified. Alabama just demonstrated
that. Norristown can too, and must. The resources Norristown possesses are not,
by themselves, sufficient to make headway in a world that has changed so much
since the glory days of the Schuylkill River towns.
Take a look at a local map and you will see what I mean. Southeastern Pennsylvania possesses one of the
most extensive and interlocking systems of limited-access highways in the
United States. Norristown appears to sit
right in the middle, accessible from everywhere. In fact it is accessible from nowhere. It has no connection to any of these
highways. Did you know that was
deliberate? In the early 1950s, when the
Turnpike was first making its way eastward, PennDOT planned an interchange at
the east end of town. Virtually everyone
in Norristown opposed this, even sending delegations to Harrisburg to fight
it. Norristown was doing just fine by
itself, connecting to outsiders would only ruin downtown. PENNDoT listened, and the Interchange was
moved to its present location well east of town. As a result, for the last sixty years,
everyone taking the “Norristown Exit” has discovered it doesn’t lead to
Norristown.
Nothing else does either, and downtown is long dead. The Lafayette Street Project thus offers
Norristown what it has been missing for decades, a connection that makes
Norristown accessible to outsiders.
That’s a lesson from history, when Norristown felt itself strong enough
to prosper by itself, without any connection to outsiders. Norristown was wrong, and the results are
obvious.
Parochialism helped to destroy Norristown’s prosperity. I’m not exactly sure what my correspondent meant
by “rugged parochialism,” as I have never seen those two words linked
before. He’s onto something however,
because Norristown’s decades-long period demonstrating the negative results of
parochialism has been rugged indeed.
So put your focus on the Lafayette Street project, where it belongs, and put aside irrelevant distractions offered by the habitual nay-sayers. What does it offer? What are its downsides? Can it become part of and contribute to a broader program for Norristown revival? These are the questions that should matter, the important ones. Then continue to apply that approach to other issues. Reject parochialism.
So put your focus on the Lafayette Street project, where it belongs, and put aside irrelevant distractions offered by the habitual nay-sayers. What does it offer? What are its downsides? Can it become part of and contribute to a broader program for Norristown revival? These are the questions that should matter, the important ones. Then continue to apply that approach to other issues. Reject parochialism.
