Interdependence and Isolation

Something I heard on a podcast last week, speaking of a classical conservative moral framework described by the speaker as “individualistic utilitarianism”:

paraphrasing -

(the essence of individualistic utilitarianism is that…) people who are dependent and who need other people are morally wrong, because to assert your needs and obligations on others is interpreted in that framework as a moral imposition. It is morally wrong to impose your needs and create obligations for other people because it limits their freedom. This is not Conservatism. This is a thoroughly modern way of thinking about morality and it certainly does not have a lot in common with Christianity, which emphasizes the interdependence of all people and the pleasure and privilege of having obligations to others and meeting them, even in excess of what they ask.

The “pleasure and privilege of having obligations to others.” I had never thought of it that way. It seems so counterintuitive, but I love it when I get to lend a hand to my friends and wish I had more opportunities to do so.

There are many people in my life for whom having obligations to is a pleasure and a privilege, and I eagerly jump at the chance to serve them at any opportunity. To be sure, this wasn’t the point the speaker was making in the quote, but I don’t think we give enough credit to the notion that serving others is a privilege, not a burden — and indeed I covet opportunities to lend a hand to my friends. Yet since nobody wants to be a burden on anybody, we’re reluctant to accept help. I’m like this, and almost all of my friends are, too. I’m rarely asked for anything.

But that’s “real life.” The situation is different in the world of 100 mile ultramarathons. When running them, this social dynamic gets turns on its head. Interdependence is presumed. As in real life, it’s rare to find people unwilling to help. Unlike in real life, however, people are generally willing to accept and even ask for help.

This can be as simple as asking for a gel or an Advil from a fellow runner. Or it could be asking a friend to disrupt their weekend to accompany them for 50 miles in your 100 mile race and, by the way, they won’t get credit for it. Ultrarunners depend on each other, and most everybody adheres to a social code in which we give to and accept help from each other in a variety of forms, and the social bonds that form as a result can be extremely strong.

But for all the interdependence that goes on in running, there is a commonly-heard refrain of running being an “individual sport”, in contrast to a team sport. When you cross the finish line, you got there on your own; there was no offensive line blocking others from tacking you. And there is truth to that. There is nobody there to pick up a ball and cross the finish line for us; we have to do that ourselves. Moreover, we do most of our training in isolation. And in most forms of running — middle distance, marathons, triathlons, when race day comes you’re more or less on your own. 100s still maintain that sense of individualism, but also openly cultivate a culture of interdependence.

Yet in “real life” I keep hearing from others, and feeling in my own life, expressions of feeling isolated despite constant rhetoric of the value of having friends. Everyone wants a rich social life, yet people are so paralyzed by a fear of being a burden that they never ask friends to spend time with them, much less ask favors. And I’d be remiss to not point out that social media exacerbates this problem by being an unsatisfying substitute for rich in-person social interactions.

And the problem has manifested itself in surprisingly extreme ways. I never call people on the phone (other than my wife), because I don’t want to interrupt them. Yet when I receive a phone call (by someone under 70) it’s a delightful surprise. If I’m getting coffee with someone, if they offer to pay I always decline unless I can immediately reciprocate in some way, because I’m embarrassed to accept a small gift. Yet I’d happily buy coffee for any of my friends and the notion that I’d think less of them for accepting it is ridiculous. I can go on and on.

So we can correlate a reluctance to accept favors from people with social isolation. Simple solution, right? Start asking favors!

No.

I have the exact same reaction to that which you did. The fear of being a burden isn’t irrational. And as far as I can tell it’s impossible to know where that line is unless a friend is honest and courageous enough to tell you (and if you have a friend like that, cherish them for all they’re worth.) There is a line, and we’re so afraid of crossing it that we stay a hundred miles away.

The truth is that I don’t have even a vague solution to this