Note: this essay was originally published on Medium.
Κοίνά γαρ τά τών φίλων (“For (γαρ) the things (τά) of friends (τών φίλων) are common (Κοίνά)”) — Plato, Phaedrus
As I pass through towns in East and West Texas, I see something that has become all too common: shuttered storefronts, downtowns that more resemble ghost towns, signs of neglect everywhere.
On the outskirts of town, it’s no better: yards littered with disused items, cars rusting out, trailer homes in disrepair. At least a few homes are probably meth labs.
Economic prosperity is a long-forgotten state for these towns. The reasons for this lack of prosperity are many and varied — dwelling on “reasons” won’t help those who are struggling.
Beyond the economics, though, there’s something else that has disappeared in these towns: a sense of community.
Oh sure, every Friday during football season, the town turns out to watch the weekly game and cheer on the home team. This part of the community will always remain in a Texas town.
In a larger sense, though, the community has fallen apart. To understand why we have to understand what a community and its purpose is.
The English words “community” and “common” have the same root: the Latin word communis. The word communis is composed of the Latin root prefix con- which means to bring together and munus, which means duty or obligation. So a community is a duty that brings individuals together. In other words, community is a shared duty.
A shared duty. How many of us alive today feel that we have an obligation to our neighbor? Sure, we may pay lip service to the idea. If we’re churchgoers, we recognize that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. But do we really, truly feel that duty?
You may think, “I pay my taxes to the government, I tithe at my church, and I give to charity at Christmastime. Yes, I feel a shared duty to my fellow man.” Okay, fair enough. Now answer this question: what happens when a disaster strikes the community, such as the primary employer leaving town? What then?
Do we hold a community meeting asking those who can help support others struggling financially or spiritually? Or do say, “Hmmm, seems like opportunity has dried up here. Time to find a new place with new opportunities.”?
In such a case, we probably give a little of what we have to “those less fortunate” while keeping an eye on the job postings in more economically thriving areas. We’re not mean; we’re generous. At the end of the day, though, we’re looking out for number one.
That’s why Texas has so many struggling towns. (Oops. That’s a reason, isn’t it?) Too many people are looking out for number one instead of keeping an eye on their shared duty. Those left behind now have more of a burden to shoulder and fewer resources with which to do it.
Let me be clear that I completely understand wanting to live in a place where you can provide a decent life for yourself and your family. It’s just a shame that taking care of one’s family responsibilities is seen as separate from taking care of the community’s needs.
I also want to be clear that I’m not advocating for anything resembling Communism (the political system) or even communism (shared ownership of the means of production).
This “looking out for number one” goes beyond Texas; in fact, it’s baked into American culture. As a nation, we believe in the doctrine of “rugged individualism”: we believe that each individual should be self-reliant in all situations.
While the attitude of “rugged individualism” (arguably) provided a benefit to frontiersmen as they pushed the border of the American West, it’s not an attitude that has had much currency throughout most of human history. What grew deep roots instead was a more cooperative social ethos.
Now we have come full circle; we are back to the quote from Plato that began this essay. So what was Plato talking about anyway?
I do not believe that Plato referred to the Pythagorean concept of sharing all earthly goods equally with our friends. Why? Because when I share something of mine with you, I no longer have it; I am diminished. The same is true if you share with me. Although we have an equal share in a good thing, we do not have a common good.
So what, then, are these things of friends that are common? In thinking about this question, it occurs to me that only things that belong to the inner lives of human beings meet this criterion. Let’s take a look at a couple of examples.
If I share an idea with you, one that you have never had, do I lose the idea? No, right? Even if you take my idea and build on it, I have lost nothing. What we shared grew instead of diminished. Even if you don’t improve on my idea, it leads to growth since it is a new idea that you have never had before. We now share a good thing in common.
Next, let’s consider what is perhaps the best of the common goods that friends can share: love. If we both love the same thing (or person), does that mean my love loses something? Not at all.
Instead, my love for whatever I love may grow because I know you love it as well. There is again no diminishment.
Now that we know what kinds of things can be shared in common let’s consider what it means that these common things are shared with friends. Why say friends? Why not say mankind or some other collective noun?
I think the reason that Plato mentions friends is simple: the shared common things are shared common goods. They are good things. While we may say that we want mankind to have good things, that’s a bit abstract. It’s much more concrete to think that we want good things for our friends.
And more, I think there’s another implication: when we share these common goods with others, we extend friendship to them. We’re saying, “Here’s a good thing, have some of it. It will make your life better.”
I know that some people are saying, “Wait, I thought we were talking economics, not philosophy. How does sharing these common goods improve the economic situation?”
I’m glad you asked. When a group of people gathers to share these common goods, what happens? These goods are preserved instead of being consumed. What if we based a local economy on that premise?
Such an economy would exist to exchange value. Let me give an example: you have a house I want to buy, and I’ve got a pile of money. When I swap the pile of cash for the house, have I lost anything? No, because the house has a value equivalent to the pile of money. We have exchanged value for value.
Now let’s say I renovate the house and sell it. Because the house has been improved, the value has increased, correct? Now the house is worth more than the pile of money initially used to purchase it. Value has grown.
Contrast this to the following scenario: after buying the house, something happens, and it burns down. The fire has consumed the value that the house stored. Now value has been lost.
Unfortunately, our idea of economics is closer to the second example than the first. We are taught to consume things rather than exchange value for value. As a result, our resources, both personal and communal, get used up. Because we did not focus on holding value, the value we had is lost.
I believe that if we brought people together to pursue the common goods and focus our economic activity on holding value rather than consuming, we would create a true community. We could build such a community from an already existing community that has experienced the failures associated with consumption; it would be quite a shift of mindset to make, but we could do it.
In such an economy, it would benefit the community to produce as many of its goods and services as possible. In this way, when goods and services benefit the community when they are used.
And isn’t it for a common benefit that we form communities in the first place?
