The Sociology of… Politics

Convincing you (and myself) that things can get better

The Gist of It: Why American individualism is both the problem and the solution  

I grew up immersed in the American political process. My mom took me to political rallies by the time I was in kindergarten, and we faithfully attended the infamous Iowa caucuses — she wanted me to see our political process in action, first hand. We’d tune into both parties’ political conventions, glued to the TV like it was the gold medal round of an Olympic event. Later, in high school, I earned a spot at Girls State, followed by Girls Nation, testing out my potential role in our political landscape. I interned on the Hill for a senator (one of the good ones) and almost majored in political science, only to change course when I realized I’d rather study culture and get a PhD than go to law school. I also decided I was way too blunt, had a face incapable of hiding my opinions, and was not nearly likable enough to ever run for office. So I swapped academia for politics. RIP my would-be political career. 

But I remained fascinated by the interplay between politics and culture and (mostly) retained the belief that I could still change — or at least influence — the world, beyond the formal political realm. That’s what led me to join the Peace Corps (more on that some other day) and what’s guided many of my life and career choices. Though, admittedly, most days, I don’t feel I’m doing enough. I worry I’m not living big enough in how I orient myself, not living up to my “full potential” for doing good and sparking change. But when I analyze what more I can do without making a major career pivot, I quickly grow discouraged.

Being a catalyst for positive political action and societal transformation feels insurmountable. But is it?

“Politics” has become a dirty word, and one often needs a thorough cleanse after any attempt at engaging in civil political discourse. But as an adolescent, what lured me to politics was something that feels like a naive fantasy in our current cynical, divided climate: I believed a life in politics and political action was an invitation to become an engaged citizen; someone who heeds the call to play the role of public servant. I believed politics was not dissimilar from (my equally idealized notion of) leadership in general, one of self-sacrifice and putting the good of the group above the desire and will of the self. [I’ll pause for you to have a good laugh.]  

But this month’s theme of the Sociology of… Politics is my attempt to convince you — and also myself — that individual action still matters in the public realm. Politics may be broken, but the electorate is a collection of individuals. What we do individually affects what happens socially. As always, the Sociology of… Everything creates a feedback loop between the self and the collective.

The Sociological Hot Take

Richard Sennett, in his 1977 work, The Fall of Public Man, builds on the work of Erving Goffman and Georg Simmel to present a theatrical understanding of the increasingly merged realms of the public and the private spheres. This private / public merger, he argues, is problematic, primarily because it led to a decline in political engagement. From the 18th to the 19th centuries, Sennett recognized a shift, with individuals becoming more self-interested, losing sight of the importance of mixing and socializing beyond their own little bubbles. We grew more self-absorbed and socially awkward — a most unattractive combination.

To make his case, Sennett quotes from Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville, an observer of American life and a critic of individualism:

“Each person, withdrawn into himself, behaves as though he is a stranger to the destiny of all the others. His children and his good friends constitute for him the whole of the human species . . . there no longer remains a sense of society.”

“There no longer remains a sense of society.” 

Those words, first published in 1835, give me chills. Nearly 200 years later, it wouldn’t take a French social scientist to observe and articulate what we all feel so acutely every day. 

Similarly interested in the historical evolution of the public/private divide, Christopher Lasch, in his 1979 book, The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in an Age of Diminishing Expectations (what a title, eh?), describes this historical turning point as when “the public world came to be seen as a mirror of the self, [when] people lost the capacity for detachment and hence for playful encounter.”

Excessive individualism, rampant narcissism, and an inability to engage in joyful banter and thoughtful discourse. De Tocqueville, Sennett, and Lasch got us right. And this was long before technology turbo-charged everything.  

Admittedly, I’m not overly optimistic any of this will change. Yes, I said the same thing about dating, relationships, technology, and friendship, because I’m mostly a pessimist when it comes to modernity and our societal trajectory. 

But my recent and upcoming guests on the Sociology of… Everything give me a glimmer of hope. As next week’s conversation with political strategist and mobile voting advocate Bradley Tusk will show, the combination of technology and the persistent efforts of concerned citizens like him may someday soon reform our current political landscape for the better.

While we wait for that day to come, last month’s guest, Nicholas Christakis, in our series on the Sociology of… Friendship, spoke about how his research proves we are far more powerful than we realize. As a physician and sociologist who studies the science of connection, Nicholas’ research on networks demonstrates that our role, our influence, goes beyond the tally of our individual votes when it comes to the Sociology of… Politics: 

“It is a plain truth that your individual vote is not going to determine the outcome of any election. So people quite rightly can look at whether it matters if they vote. But the reality is that the act of voting is not just about your vote. It's more generally about the conversations you have with others, the commitment you are showing to civil society, the impact you are having through those conversations and those actions, the donations you make, the signs you put on your doorstep — all of those things are much more powerful. 

Voting is part of a broader package of activities and broader influence that you have. We’ve made estimates that when you vote, it influences dozens, maybe hundreds of other people to also turn out and vote. So there are these network effects of voting and these other pro-social aspects of voting that are not to be underestimated. Your vote does matter. And it matters, ironically, not just because of your vote. It matters because of the penumbra of all these other things that surround your vote.”

Nicholas’ findings make perfect sense, but most of us take this chain of events for granted. “Your vote matters” isn’t just some trite slogan invoked to get you to vote. It’s a scientifically proven fact that your actions — of which voting is one — influence people you’ve never met through this network effect.

Making Individualism Work For Us

This article focuses on American politics — in part, because I am American, but also because America has become the most significant influencer of global politics and culture (whether the rest of the world likes it or not). Since most historians agree that the American Revolution influenced the French Revolution (no wonder de Tocqueville had his eye on America), our legacy as change agents — for better or worse — is enduring. And this moment is no exception. 

It is pure coincidence that, as I write this, I’m in Washington, D.C. Yesterday, I took a run around the National Mall, which is and always will be my favorite urban running loop — from the Capitol to the Washington Monument to the World War II Memorial, extending all the way to the Lincoln Memorial on the banks of the Potomac, it’s truly spectacular. As an American, it feels impossible to experience the Mall and not get swept up in the kind of romanticized political optimism I felt more acutely in my youth. Its design, which stems back to 1791, is also reflective of the vision set forth in our nation’s youth. To move across this space is to travel through time. It marks momentous figures and world-changing events, while also serving as an active site for protests and presidential inaugurations, not to mention everyday recreation and socializing. It’s dynamic and precious, and its history is as complicated as our future is precarious.

Being here in D.C., I can’t help but think of my favorite podcast of all time, Presidential, which, in its 45 episodes, details the life and legacy of our first 45 presidents. Part of what makes it so special is that the series leans more into each president’s personality and what kept them up at night than the nuances of their policies. (At some point in each episode, the host, Lillian Cunningham, asks one of the historians what it would be like to go on a blind date with that president. The answers to that question alone make the podcast worthwhile.)

Of all of the episodes, the one on Teddy Roosevelt stands out. No other president brought the same energy that Teddy did to the job. One journalist with a close relationship to T.R. said, “He seemed spiritually to be dancing in the exuberance of a deep physical joy of life.” I imagine him skipping into the Oval Office each day to report for duty. And in response to the question, “What would it be like to go on a blind date with Teddy?” presidential historian David McCullough replied, “Like a hundred and ten watt lightbulb. He was full of energy and vitality and bursting with talk and ideas.” At a youthful 42, T.R. was our youngest president ever to take office, though he allegedly acted even younger. (A foreign ambassador said of him, “You must always remember that the president is six years old. T.R. is very much a kid at heart.”) Cunningham goes on to explain:

“Teddy’s exuberant, intensely engaged personality created a new activist style of American presidential leadership. Teddy introduced charisma into the presidential equation. He made the presidency itself — not Congress, not the party bosses, but the presidency — the center of American politics.”

Dynamic and bold, Teddy embodied the American spirit. He also believed that individualism and collectivism were complementary, with support from the collective enhancing the freedom of the individual. The individualism that de Tocqueville recognized and Sennett and Lasch later lamented — the same individualism that Teddy exemplified and fought for — can be used as a catalyst for improving our current political climate.

Americans — perhaps more than any other culture in the world — are taught to believe in themselves. Even when it’s irrational, we are told that all things are possible. For those who haven’t experienced life beyond our borders, it’s easy to take that mindset for granted. But I can assure you, this is unique. It’s part of what annoys so many other countries about us, and it’s also what opens the door to possibilities, accelerating our greatness and amplifying our hubris. It’s why we’ve cornered the market on innovation and creativity, and why the American experiment was so audacious and improbable from the start. A country “by the people, for the people”; individuals operating in concert.

At our core, I believe we, as a nation, are earnest T.R.’s. whose lightbulbs have grown a bit dim. As I search for my inner Teddy, I revise my initial question from “can I make a difference?” to “how will I use my immense power?” Once we understand the weight that our seemingly small, individual choices carry, it’s easier to see how central we are to the political process. Politics is only as broken as we are, making us both the problem and the solution.

Observe + Take Action

This is the part of the Sociology of… Everything article where I traditionally offer a personal call-to-action: immediate changes you can make that have the power to transform the sociological reality of the month’s theme. My prescriptions for this month are a bit more straightforward than usual, however, because I believe the Sociology of… Politics requires simplification, not complexity: 

• Vote (and talk about voting): Take Nicholas’ words and work to heart. Your vote matters, far beyond how you might think it does. The network effect is real, and you are a node in multiple networks. Don’t squander your power of influence. 

• Talk to your neighbors: The lost art of conversation is one of the things that can help save democracy and reinvigorate our political landscape. Communication is the key to every relationship, and our relationship with our fellow citizens is in need of more regular chats. [Note: I believe the bulk of these conversations, to be effective, MUST happen face-to-face. So ditch the screens and go breathe on each other.]

• Talk to strangers: After you finish talking to the people you know, strike up some conversations with people you don’t know. Look no further than my recent Norwegian adventures as proof of how talking to strangers is the panacea for most things in life — our political ailments included. 

• Read: You’ve gotten this far in the article, so I may be preaching to the choir on this one. Reading something beyond your social media feed is crucial to expanding your mind and perspective, which can radically transform how we collectively approach politics in the public sphere on both the global and local levels. Even some of the most educated people I know rarely read books or long-form articles these days. You likely have fitness goals, so I encourage you to be as rigorous about how you shape and exercise your mind as you are with your body. How many books per month will you read? Which writers? Which outlets for long-form journalism will engage and challenge your thinking? Our minds have become fat and lazy and it’s time to get in shape. Do it for democracy.