I’m writing a book!
And why social change can be like making a friend
Painting by Ruirui Kuang
I’m starting this newsletter a little differently because I have news to share: I’m officially writing a book! More Than Friends will focus on people who make a friend their life partner and explore questions that these unusually close friendships raise about the status that romantic relationships have in our society, how we determine what families should look like, and what a fulfilling life entails. If this topic sounds familiar, it’s because the Atlantic article I wrote a few months ago—which is how many of you found this newsletter—previews some of these ideas. I’m actively searching for people to interview, so if you have (or had) an unusually intense friendship please fill out this form. Or if you have an aunt or a grandpa or coworker who did/does have this kind of friendship, please share the form with them. I’m also keen to hear what topics you think I should cover. You can respond to this email or put your thoughts in the comments.
Back to the regularly-scheduled programming.
In my view, some of the best social science research makes you think, oh yes, of course, even though you probably wouldn’t have come up with the idea on your own. That was my reaction to a recent paper by the statistician Andrew Gelman and political scientist Yotam Margalit. The researchers try to understand why there’s been far more progress on gaining rights for some groups than for others. Researchers have put forward some plausible explanations: that some groups comprise a larger share of the population or have more resources for advocacy than others. Gelman and Margalit find that something different seems to matter quite a bit: the number of people who are personally familiar with members of the group—what they call a “social penumbra.” For instance, maybe you have a few coworkers and relatives who have disabilities. That would make you part of the social penumbra for people with disabilities.
A social penumbra is distinct from the number of people who belong to a group. Gelman and Margalit illustrate this through data on three groups that were part of their survey: people who are gay, Muslims, and women who’ve had an abortion in the past five years.
“These three groups are roughly the same size (3.6 percent, 2.4 percent, and 2.0 percent of the U.S. adult population, respectively) but differ widely in the size of their respective penumbras: according to our survey, 74 percent of American adults know at least one gay person, 30 percent know a Muslim, and only 10 percent say they know a woman who has had an abortion the past five years.”
What accounts for the differences in the penumbra sizes? Muslims are geographically concentrated in certain parts of the country while women who’ve gotten an abortion may not discuss their experience with many people. The researchers suggest that if a group is hidden from much of the population, policies affecting that group may not get a lot of support.
They looked at whether entering the penumbra for any group (e.g. becoming friends with someone who’s Muslim) leads to a change in policy views related to that group. They ran a study of a representative sample of Americans and asked about the participants’ views toward different groups and then whether they had family, friends, or coworkers in the groups. A year later they followed up and asked the same questions. They found that for several of the groups, there was a small positive association between entering a penumbra and having more favorable views toward policies that affect the group. For instance, a person who comes to know someone who’s Muslim is more likely to oppose intense airport screenings for Muslims while a person who gets to know someone who’s part of the NRA is more likely to oppose an assault weapons ban.
The penumbra idea can’t explain every shift in political attitudes—I would be pretty suspicious of any researcher’s claim that one thing is responsible for such a big phenomenon—but it does point to a key idea that interpersonal relationships can have a bearing on social change. That general insight is core to a book that I can’t stop blabbering about, Dedicated: The Case for Commitment in an Age of Infinite Browsing. As you might gather from the subtitle, the author, Pete Davis, is speaking to those of us who endlessly try to optimize—in how we use our time, choose partners and causes and jobs. He makes a broad case that commitment leads to a satisfying life. And specifically, he says, sticking with something makes change possible. As Davis describes it, commitment to a cause is a lot like commitment to a person.
“The only way we can change institutions, communities, and people is by entering into relationships with them—by learning their nuances, by building a rapport, by having enough trust and flow to respond nimbly to unexpected circumstances.”
Davis profiles people he calls “long-haul heroes,” including activists who spent decades pushing past a lot of letdowns and, frankly, tedium before they made real progress on their causes. His point is that treating this sort of work like a relationship that we have to tend to for a long time helps us get through tiresome periods. This approach also encourages us to devote ourselves to institutions that are, inevitably, imperfect—just as we love people who have imperfections. As daunting as it may feel to dedicate ourselves to something, Davis says that once we commit, we gain energy to keep going from relationships we’ve built with people we’re working with or serving. To move forward, sometimes it can help to tie ourselves down.
I can’t stop thinking about
Words: A gripping investigation of Kazakhs and Uyghurs living in Xinjiang (the New Yorker website has animations that go with the text.)
And if you want more info on Dedicated, I enjoyed this Q&A with Davis about why, despite the book’s official categorization, it’s not self-help.
Sounds: The Experiment’s episode on the history of the fiancé visa.
Now you know
Brutalism didn’t get its name because the look is brutal (though for many of us, that seems like an apt description), but instead because the buildings were made of béton brut—the French term for “raw concrete.” As the website for The Tate museum explains, an architecture critic later “gave the French word a punning twist to express the general horror with which this concrete architecture was greeted in Britain.” (h/t for this fun fact to my friend Betsy, the biggest Brutalism booster I know.)
If you know someone who’s into this sort of thing, please tell them about the newsletter.
I’m featuring artwork/crafts by friends and readers. Send me a photo of any art of yours that you’d like me to include in a future newsletter.