America faces a dizzying array of problems: Widening gulf between the right and left, social unrest, rampant violence, and great political uncertainty. These are the headline-getters, which, unfortunately, too often distract us from a social problem, which is now growing to tidal wave proportions and which threatens to tear apart the social bonds that enable our society to function.
This problem has been with us for a long time. I know this because the problem was described with crystal clarity sixty-four years ago in the classic and powerful short book The Art of Loving, by psychoanalyst Eric Fromm. I recently had the pleasure of rereading it, and I noted that its message rang forth with a clarity that was undiminished by the passage of time or changing beliefs and attitudes. Fromm’s central thesis is that in a culture that makes consumerism its highest pursuit, love itself becomes nothing more than an act of consumption. In this process, true love is entirely forgotten and people assume that love is obtained by acquiring the optimal object of love. This love object is supposed to have the best mix of desirable traits that one can find in the “love exchange market” (attractiveness, wealth, power, social standing), taking into account one's own assets and liabilities when competing in the same market.
Fromm says that this view of love turns us into seekers and passive recipients of others' approval, in a process that is the very opposite of true love. So what is true love, according to Fromm? He states that love is inherently an active process, which involves giving to another and the commitment to such a relationship. At the core of this commitment is the striving to use care, responsibility, respect and knowledge (of the other) to deepen the bond with and further the wellbeing of the beloved other. Consumerist love focuses on obtaining something for oneself and using love as a drug to cover over feelings of existential loneliness. True love bravely faces the reality that we are born alone and die alone, but if we can deeply attend to and perceive the reality of another person, then we have transcended that aloneness, and can never be alone again in the same way. Even if we lose our beloved, the spirit of that encounter stays with us and sustains us through the further vicissitudes of life.
Where does 2022 America stand, in relation to these values? Consider Deborah*, a twenty-something patient whom I see in my psychotherapy practice. Deborah engages in polyamory (romantic relationship involving more than two partners), a practice which is on the rise, especially amongst younger Americans. When, at the age of seventeen, she entered into a relationship with Joe, it was never her intention that they would engage in polyamory. But after three years of exclusive dating, Joe started to express dissatisfaction. He disliked the constraints that were placed on his freedom and wanted the chance to dabble in hook-ups with other women from time to time. Deborah was initially adverse to these wishes, but she hated to make Joe unhappy. They negotiated and compromised, finally agreeing that Joe could explore his wanderlust now and then, but Deborah and Joe would remain in a primary relationship. The primacy of this relationship would be represented by their joint bed, a place that they both assumed they would return to and share, even if they had some experiences on the side, outside of the home. Deborah said that the bed was a “sacred space,” representing the primary bond that Deborah and Joe shared.
It did not take Joe long to find Mary, a gorgeous blond, who was very aware of her beauty and enjoyed playing it up— hugging, cuddling with and getting the attention of the men that she hung out with. Initially, Joe and Mary would meet for hot encounters outside of Joe and Deborah’s home. But Deborah exhibited interest in, and Joe consented to Mary joining for a threesome. All well and good, one might say—young love exploring. But problems started to arise when it became apparent that Joe and Mary were much more interested in each other, during these encounters, than either of them were in Deborah. Further, to her dismay, Deborah woke up after one night of this threesome, discovering that the ménage a trois had somehow become deux after Deborah had fallen asleep. “I can’t believe you did that while I was asleep!” Deborah said to them. My thought upon hearing this was, “What made you think they wouldn’t?” Joe and Deborah had a fight about this, and it was finally resolved, when Joe agreed that if he had sex with Mary in Joe’s and Deborah’s bed, he would confine such activities to his side of the bed. So much for the sacredness of Joe’s and Deborah’s bed!
This may be bad enough for you, gentle reader, but it becomes worse, way worse. Witnessing Deborah’s mounting dissatisfaction, Joe suggested that she seek some of her own novel experiences, which soon took the form of Anthony, an alcoholic and emotionally needy young man, who was “quite sweet” with Deborah and a great lover, but who could become very petulant when he had been drinking. Now things were pretty balanced, right? Not really. The problem was that Anthony’s living situation was not so conducive for sexual encounters in his home, so Deborah sought windows of opportunity when Joe was out with Mary. (Joe became sort of snarky if Deborah wanted to have sex with Anthony, while Joe was at home).
After a few more twists and turns of complications, Deborah and Joe had to find a new apartment, and they decided jointly with Mary and Anthony that it might be most convenient if all four of them rented a house together. That way, they could work on improving all of their mutual relationships, and, if Deborah or Joe were otherwise engaged with their other lovers, then there would be someone for the ignored party to turn to. Now all well and good, right?
Wrong. More wrong than ever. One morning, Joe reached out for Deborah, saying that he wanted to have sex. Deborah responded that she was not feeling so well. She rested in bed for a while and then had breakfast. Later, she announced that she thought she might feel better if she had a shower. Anthony offered to shower with her. After the shower they had sex. That evening, Deborah noticed that Joe was in an angry, sulky mood. She asked him what was wrong. He said, “Oh, you didn’t feel well enough to have sex with me, but you felt fine to have sex with him.” He did not accept her response. “I was just feeling better at that time; it had nothing to do with you.”
Jealousy, neediness and attention-getting start to run rampant. Deborah tells Joe that he never cuddles her to sleep anymore. Joe responds that he does not like to go up to bed until he is ready to sleep. This seems like a good explanation until Deborah notices that Joe hangs out with Mary in her bed all the time. Deborah, who has always been the accommodating one, figures that she will try to connect with Joe any way that she can. So one day, when she is pretty sure that Joe and Mary are having sex, she knocks on the door and asks if she can join. There is a pause, and Joe answers “no,” leaving Deborah to wonder whether it was Joe, Mary or both who were against this. In the midst of all this chaos, Anthony’s neediness increases. One night, when Deborah has had it with all of them and locks her bedroom door, Anthony starts making a nuisance by pounding on the door and saying he does not know what he will do to himself if Deborah shuts him out like this. But no worry—a few days later, Deborah finds Anthony together with Mary in her bed. (Remember how successful Mary is at getting the attention of men?)
It’s interesting to note that Deborah’s primary concern that drove her to therapy was anxiety. Wouldn’t this situation engender anxiety in anyone?
Granted, the scenario I describe above is extreme, but some variant of it is far from uncommon, given present social trends. Further, there is an essential similarity between polyamory, hookup culture, open relationships and the whole slew of non-monogamous pairings. That similarity is this: they all powerfully undermine the phenomenon of true love that Fromm wrote about. How, I ask you, is it possible to cultivate the care, responsibility, respect and knowledge that are inherent in true love, in the midst of such chaos? Even if the participant in such relationships enters them with the intention of exhibiting these loving qualities, how can these qualities be maintained in the midst of such immaturity, selfishness, and greed? How many of these pairings have even the good intention of actual love and its prerequisite, the desire to give? Rest assured, very few. By and large, these relationships are about finding pleasure and/or affirmation and aiming to wrest something from the world, with little thought of giving anything? Sadly, this rampant taking will make the taker increasingly cynical and steeped in a world of emptiness and ugliness that is the antithesis of true self-respect and self-love.
The consumer culture that Fromm observed over sixty years ago has become a consumer culture on steroids. Consider James, another one of my patients. James is forty years of age, and has longstanding issues with social anxiety, depression, social withdrawal, obsessive gaming and daily marijuana use. Notwithstanding all these issues, he holds down a full-time job and provides well for his family. But his issues have a heavy impact on his wife and two children. James has a short fuse. He is easily annoyed by his kids and easily angered by his wife, and, when this happens, he escapes to his gaming, internet surfing and smoking, as a respite from the demands of family life. His wife has learned that it is best to let him escape, because he becomes verbally explosive if he stays with the family when he is in one of these bad moods.
James tells me that he is very concerned about his eleven-year-old son, who used to be much more interactive and enthusiastic, but has been spending increasing time alone in his room on YouTube. This behavior is especially concerning to James, because of the extensive social isolation that his son has experienced, due to COVID-related computer-based school. The son has started to develop some disrespectful speech patterns, which are based on the style of his YouTubers of choice. He is showing decreasing interest in his schoolwork and questions why it even matters, because he intends to become a YoutTuber when he grows up.
Recently, James saw a documentary on Netflix, titled The Social Dilemma. (I have seen it myself and think it is essential viewing for all.) The main point of this documentary is that the internet-based tech companies (Google, Facebook, etc.) have a very sophisticated team of code-writers, who are constantly refining artificial intelligence to enable these companies to make psychological profiles of each internet user. These profiles allow the companies to predict our preferences, grab our attention and keep our eyeballs on our screens for as long as possible, allowing these companies to show us ads or to otherwise sell product. It is psychological manipulation, plain and simple, often exploiting our Fear of Missing Out (FOMO), to keep us engaged with a device. The unfortunate outcome is that we are increasingly disengaged with those “boring,” “demanding,” and “disruptive” individuals who populate the real world around us. The documentary further pointed out an even more profound concern, which is the observed clear association between smartphone use and drastic increases in mental health disorders and even suicide in youths.
After seeing this documentary, James said to me that he realized he was a victim of these high-tech manipulations, and that his son was similarly being preyed upon by these tech companies. I agreed with James that this was a very valuable insight and that it would be tremendously helpful for their mental and emotional health to find a way to unplug (and maybe even throw a ball to each other outside).
The next week I checked in with James about “project unplug.” He responded that he had not been very successful at it, that he was too much a creature of his habits. I challenged him, saying that this was a decision that he might make for himself, but how could he stand by and watch his son engage in hours of device use, behind closed doors, with James knowing full well how much his son’s young mind was prey to all the manipulative tactics of the tech companies. His response? “But if I take away his device, he’ll hate me. And anyway, who am I to tell him what he should do on the computer?”
Who are you? You’re his parent. And if you don’t do it, who will?
Something is very, very wrong in 2022 America.
The same problem is destroying Deborah’s life and James’ life and the life of his son. The problem is that we have replaced the care, responsibility, respect and knowledge inherent in love with consumerism. Whatever sells or obtains us more goodies is good; whatever doesn’t is bad. And in a culture of ultimate consumerism, perhaps James is right: Who is he to regulate his son’s computer use? Much like Huxley’s dystopian Brave New World, the highest good in our present culture is satisfaction of wants and pleasure. Our computer-based alternate reality has invented an infinite amount of ways to “scratch our itch.” Why check in on a lonely elderly neighbor (or your wife), when you can communicate with twenty “friends” at once? Why play tennis when video games are very stimulating (with much less effort)? Why go for a hike when you can virtually explore any place in the world with a few clicks? And why invest in one romantic partner when your FOMO instincts are telling you, “But there are so many other sexy and available partners who lavishly display their wares on countless romance driven websites.” So there we are, all seeking satisfaction, but desperately unsatisfied and pitifully more alone than ever.
This is our dystopian world of 2022. The values of commitment, sacrifice, service, discipline and respect are under attack from all sides. And now that we have witnessed the culture of political narcissism, increasing polarization and mutual distrust and have been severely isolated from each other, due to COVID lockdowns, the bonds that previously tied us together are in the gravest peril in the history of this nation. Fromm emphasized that love is so much more than an experience reserved for romantic relationships. The care, responsibility, respect and knowledge involved in love are the very glue that ties all our social structures together. Whether the relationship is parent to child, husband to wife or man to fellow man, without the true love that sees and affirms the dignity of our fellow man, trust is destroyed and society cannot function. When trust is gone, we should all shudder at the final outcome, and shudder we have, throughout so much of the recent terrifying years.
What is perhaps most interesting to me is that Deborah and James have a very similar view of the world. They both feel that the world is a horrible, hopeless place. Deborah expressed this to me when I asked her whether she would ever like to have children. She responded that she might adopt, but she would never like to bring a child into such a horrible world. And James told me that one of the reasons he does not like to step away from his computer is that he starts to think about what a horrible state the world is in, what a mess we have all made of it.
I will not debate how horrible the world is. But I offer one thought. If James would dig deep to find the love that would make him stand up to his son’s internet abuse and if Deborah would find the courage to move out and leave the insanity of her housemates behind, James’ and Deborah’s worlds might start to look a little less horrible. And if we all did more of these acts of courage and love, then the world might be considerably less horrible indeed.
*All names in the case histories have been changed to protect identities.
© 2022 Michael Milgraum