Everyday Ethics

Moral decision-making can be characterized as an effort to balance the good of the individual with the good of society. It is only natural that most people struggle with this, as it is difficult to find a happy medium between two things that are important to us, and that we value highly. The importance of the individual is not really up for dispute, as everyone has at least some level of self-interestedness. But if we are to balance this natural tendency with community values, it is important to establish what value we ought to place on the community.

First, we should be clear on whom we are talking about when we use the word community. Your community is the collective of family and friends with whom you associate. It is also the neighborhood or building where you live. It might be your entire city, or the company that employs you. The first thing we need to be clear about is that the community takes many different forms, dependent on our social situation and our individual circumstances. It is difficult to point to one particular feature as indicative of a community.

If we were to define community beyond pointing to different examples of this phenomenon, we would probably say that a community is a collection of individuals with common interests who cooperate for mutual advantage. This is not a controversial notion, and it helps point to the connection between self-interest and the need for community. As the philosopher Thomas Hobbes suggested, we value community because we need to. Life is just too difficult if you try to go it alone.

This is perhaps not the most pleasing definition of community, but it is probably more accurate than the sugarcoated notions that many people point to when they use this term. Community is something of a buzzword, with social movements like “community agriculture” and “be local” seeking to capitalize on the warm-fuzzies that people associate with the concept of community. But if we are to accurately assess what value community rightly ought to have, we should be clear that community is a necessity rather than merely a preference. Some benefits of community are non-essential, but many others are key to human survival. Thus, community takes two forms that are valuable for slightly different reasons.

The non-essential benefits of community make us feel like part of a larger whole. Going to the local farmer’s market and buying vegetables from the same farmer every week makes us feel closer to the people, the land, and the other individuals who participate in this activity. Being able to borrow some sugar from the next-door neighbor makes us feel safe. Connection is an important part of human happiness, and community is essential to providing this benefit.

The essential features of community are somewhat less emotionally compelling. Having a neighborhood watch organization or raising money for the local fire department are certainly ways to meet other people and feel connected, but they are also survival-conducive. The farmer’s market makes us feel good, but it also keeps us well fed on nutritious food. Perhaps the essential and non-essential benefits of community are interconnected. Nonetheless, we should be clear that some benefits are more important than others, and we would be best served by placing priority on the features of community that we must have, rather than those that we simply enjoy.

From this analysis, the extent to which we value community somewhat depends on what sorts of benefits we are interested in receiving. If, like Hobbes, we see community as a necessary feature of human survival, we will likely place value on community only insofar as it benefits us directly. However, if we recognize that community also provides us with some important non-essentials, we are more willing to make some personal sacrifices in order to make the community stronger. There is no right way of assessing the value of community to human happiness, but it is clearly important that we recognize the significance of making small personal sacrifices for the greater benefit of all.

About the Author

Elijah Weber is a graduate student at Bowling Green State University. He holds a Master's degree in philosophy from Colorado State University, and Bachelor’s degrees in sociology and philosophy from Chapman Univerity. He currently lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan with his wife Laura, his son Brandon, age two and a half, and two cats, both of whom are mentally deranged.