Much of this blog has been about the relative merits of two societal
views: one in which all residents are
relatively independent, especially when it comes to determining values and the
courses of behavior they choose to pursue those values, and one in which values
are defined by the needs of the common good.
Of course, this concern is more complex than just this distinction and a
great many words have been dedicated to it, not only through this venue but in the
works of philosophers, social scientists, and other social commentators. On the common good side of this debate, I have
introduced a view, a mental construct, that I have termed federation
theory. The view is highly dependent on arguments
that support community and I have relied on the works of communitarians such as
Robert Bellah and Amitai Etzioni. I must
admit that a lot of my argument begins with communal aims and then proceeds to
argue that acting communally strengthens the community - a bit circular. But what if we begin with an individual concern?
Now, there are many individual concerns: individual wealth and income, status,
recreation, sexual prowess, or just having a good time. But what about health and life expectancy? I would note that just about everyone agrees
that life itself ranks as probably one of, if not the most, important concern
we, as individuals, have. I recently
attended my fiftieth high school reunion – a grand affair. I loved seeing those familiar faces, reminiscing,
visiting the school site – facing Biscayne Bay (eat your hearts out). But as any of you know who have experienced
such an event, it is bittersweet. We all
know that the bulk of our stay here on earth is spent. That’s okay, but no one there was
volunteering to exit next and when we spoke of those who had not been as
fortunate as we have been, we spoke of them with a tinge, at least, of sadness
and love. We miss them. The point is, our selfish, if you will,
desire is to live on. By the way, one
parting message at the reunion is that we want to do it again in not ten years,
but five – no surprise.
Within that context, it came to mind something I read not so
long ago. Malcolm Gladwell[1] begins
his delightful book, Outliers, with a
short description of a relatively small town in eastern Pennsylvania called
Roseto. Attention was drawn to Roseto
because it was noted that residents of the town had inordinate low incidences
of heart disease among the under 50-year-old age bracket. A couple of investigators went about trying
to see why this was the case. What they
found was not limited to heart disease rates; these people were downright
healthy and they didn’t seem to die of anything except old age. So the investigators, in trying to find out
what was going on with these people, reviewed the usual suspects – factors –
that could contribute to this longevity.
That is, they investigated the eating habits, geographic location,
exercise, and the information concerning their genetic makeup. To do this, they had to look at the history
of the town and get a developmental view of Roseto as well as observing how
Rosetans currently lived their daily lives.
To begin with, Roseto is named Roseto because its inhabitants
are overwhelmingly made up of the descendants of an Italian town named Roseto. Toward the end of the nineteenth century, the
initial immigrants came to America to find a better life. They traveled as far as eastern Pennsylvania
where they settled near Bangor. There
were jobs there at the local quarry.
Soon, the community was established and more immigrants from the Italian
town made their way to the new Roseto. They
started local service businesses, backyard farming (with the help of a priest),
and thrived. The town incorporated and
resulted in a close-knit “Italian” community that pretty much, because of
language and other cultural preferences, stuck to itself with little contact
with other nearby towns. There were high
levels of familiarity among these townspeople with multigenerational
households, recurring impromptu dinners among neighbors, a common close, religious
– Catholic – “congregation,” and a slew of other common experiences. This is not to say that Italy was recreated
on American soil; changes were made to such things as diet, e. g., introduction
of lard instead of olive oil for cooking and bread dough to make thicker pizza
crusts. Actually, when it came to eating
habits, America represented a less healthy diet in general.
So, to get back to our mystery, as I just indicated, diet was
not the cause of these people living so long.
The people were not exercise aficionados – they walked less than what they
had done in Italy. As for geographic
region, their longevity was not shared in the nearby towns and, as for genetic
factors, when other immigrants, including relatives, were sought out in other
areas in America and those who stayed in Italy, they did not have the same
long-lived rates our Roseto residents in America had. No; the only factor that seemed to be
different for our long-livers was the communal environment they were able to
establish and maintain in eastern Pennsylvania.
Community, it turns out, seemed to be the prescription that led to the
longer lifespans.
One can speculate as to the specific attributes of their
communal lives that led to such beneficial results. Here’s Gladwell’s take:
What [the investigator] began to
realize was that the secret of Roseto wasn’t diet or exercise or genes or
location. It had to be Roseto itself. As
[the investigators] walked around the town, they figured out why. They looked at how the Rosetans visited one
another, stopping to chat in Italian on the street, say, or cooking for one
another in their backyards. They learned
about the extended family clans that underlay the town’s social structure. They saw how many homes had three generations
living under one roof, and how much respect grandparents commanded. They went to mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel
and saw the unifying and calming effect of the church. They counted twenty-two separate civic
organizations in a town of just two thousand people. They picked up on the particular egalitarian
ethos of the community, which discouraged the wealthy from flaunting their
success and helped the unsuccessful obscure their failures.[2]
“Where everybody knows your name.”
Is this the description of a “federated” community? No. It
is too communal for that. I would
describe it as more familial. But can we
learn from this town? Yes. We can’t all live in such a homogeneous social
environment, nor can we have the good fortune of having such historic factors
to create such a place. But what we can
do is approach our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our churches, our schools, as
places that can adopt lessons from such descriptions and begin to develop those
institutions that make us more caring of those around us. But all this begins with ourselves,
individually, with a willingness to question all of this liberated sense of our
natural rights. We should hold these
rights in reverence, but not as a mandate and a challenge to see ourselves as
lone wolves answerable to no one but ourselves.
If for no other reason, our health depends on a more “we-ness” in our
perspective; just ask the residents of Roseto, Pennsylvania.
