The Need for Social Ties as an Evolutionary Product

I want to revisit the idea that humans need social ties and that the pain we feel when socially isolated is ingrained in us as a product of our evolution.  I think it is a given that we cannot exist in this world without “others”: We, at the very least, need some adult person to care for us as children.  This role is typically played by one or two parents or by another close relative or family friend.  

But even as adults, we need other people too - a single individual cannot possibly do for oneself what one must need to do on a daily basis just to survive – eat, drink, maintain shelter, protect oneself from harmful influences in the outside world, etc.  People who think they are doing these things on their own are mistaken – does anyone you know actually hunt/gather their own food before cooking it for themselves to eat?  Do you stake out your own land, build shelter on it, and then protect it from invasion/theft?  In contemporary industrialized societies, many people purchase food that has already been hunted/gathered, processed, and sometimes even prepared by other people.  We purchase land or rent it from others, often with a structure already on it, which was built by someone else.  We can go to sleep at night feeling safe because the police department, laws and social norms, and the justice system provide very effective (even if not perfect) protection from harmful outside influences.  Thus, even the “anti-social” introvert is heavily dependent on others for daily life and survival.

Humans *need* one another.  We could not survive without each other.  This is ingrained in us.  To be wholly socially isolated (which, arguably, nobody actually is) would result in one’s demise.  Thus, it is ingrained in us as a product of our evolution to be social creatures.  Hence, we feel pain when socially isolated. 

A future topic for discussion will look at one of the negative aspects of this evolutionary product – namely, what happens when the human need for socialization and social connection forces people into adopting identities that are not truly their own.

The pain of social alienation

People have two choices: they can be social creatures, or they can cease to exist.  In this regard, it does not appear to be much of a choice.  The social nature of human beings is probably a result of evolution in the sense that nobody can survive without the help of others.  Thus, we need one another, and social isolation, like all other harmful states, is painful. 

It is likely for this reason that social alienation hurts.  Again, it is ingrained in us – because we, as human beings, of necessity rely on each other in order to survive, the emotional pain that we feel when we are alientated from others is a mechanism that attempts to keep us social.  We feel pain when we do not socialize – not necessarily a physical pain (although the side effects may become physical), but an emotional one.  We reach out to others, form relationships, and this makes us feel better.  It is a product of our evolution.

Problems arise when the pain of social alienation is used to mold people, to force them into roles, positions, and identities that do not feel natural or pleasant to them.  People take on these roles in a seemingly willful way because they want to avoid the pain of social alienation.  But often, what they receive in return is a different type of pain – the pain of the forced and socially constructed identity.  Granted, this pain is often less extreme than the pain incurred through social alienation, but it is real nonetheless.  It may lead to a different type of alienation – an alienation from oneself.  More on this later.

Why do rules exist?

The title of this post does not mean to pose a serious question.  It is somewhat obvious that the primary reason why rules exist is so that society may function – without rules to place checks and controls on the vast majority of human behavior, we may live in a nightmarish Hobbesian world, or worse yet, not exist at all.  But this explanation, like virtually all explanations, tells only part of the story. 

Indeed, rules are often *not* followed.  Rules are broken every day.  And, one might argue, all kinds of rules are broken so frequently that rulebreaking occurs much more often than the average person may surmise. 

Of course we know that rules are broken quite a bit – our civil and criminal justice systems are booming industries, and always have been.  But what interests me is how many broken rules go unnoticed, or if they do get noticed, remain unaccountable.  Referring back to my earlier discussion on dishonesty, clandestine dishonesty – of which much rulebreaking is a subcategory – creates imperfect markets of information.  People who rely on rules to be followed and on rulebreakers to be held accountable will – more often than many believe – be working with imperfect or false information.  An awareness of the fact that rules are secretly and unobservably broken leads to uncertainty that is likely to result in poor decision making. 

And yet!  People who notice rulebreaking often ignore it, or they willfully provide themselves with too little information so that they will not see rulebreaking when it occurs.  This begs the question: Why does this occur?  Why do so many people intentionally look the other way when rules are broken, or intentionally deprive themselves of the ability to see when rules are being broken?  I have a few thoughts on why this is, but what I am trying to come to terms with is why – in an age of so much surveillance and oversight, and so many calls for accountability and high standards (like the one in which we currently live) – are some broken rules called to widespread attention, while others are so naturally swept under the rug?  Perhaps this is one of the many secondary purposes of rules – to serve as a pretext to punish people who we do not like for other, unrelated reasons.  Why else would rules and the punishments for rulebreaking be so selectively applied?  Actually, there are a number of answers to this question, but I will leave those discussions for another time.

 {For an interesting discussion on rules, see Stone, D. (2002). Policy Paradox: The Art of Political Decision Making (revised edition). New York, NY: W.W. Norton & Company.}

What is real?

I recall being told, by a professor during class, in the very first month of my very first semester in college, something along the lines of the following:  It is assumed that there is an objective reality.  But knowing what that reality is is a challenge.

Believe it or not, that actually made sense to me at the time.  But upon further reflection, I am not so sure.  I do think that it is difficult to know what reality is, but whether there is in fact a true, objective reality is debatable.  I am not so sure that it is just a matter of divergent perceptions or perspectives.  I am no longer convinced that reality itself is real. 

Berger & Luckmann (1966) suggested that everything that we know may be a product of collective creation and imagination, and a compelling product at that.  If this is the case, then how can it be that one could argue that an actual, “objective” reality exists?  Reality itself is not even real.

When one person believes something, almost nothing comes of it.  When a few believe, no waves are made.  But when large numbers of people truly believe something, it becomes “reality” – whether it is real or not.  And the power that it holds causes it to be reality even for those who do not believe.

{Reference: Berger, P.L. & Luckmann, T. (1966). The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge. Garden City, New York: Doubleday.}