social role schema¶

This line of thinking is a particularly alienating outgrowth of what I think of as the "social role schema." That is, the conception of interpersonal relationships as occupying discrete, immutable, non-overlapping functions, each necessary for proper social functioning. https://t.co/YkvUUwUzSe It's the same paradigm that lends weight to social norms like "the traditional nuclear family" having special significance, with the husband-wife, father-child, mother-child, and sibling-sibling relationships having specific, prefigured purposes vital to "stable family life." It stems from the phenomenon of reification -- the process by which abstract concepts, like social relations, are "made into things," and assigned intrinsic properties. This is crucial for reinforcing hegemony, causing the social subject to view the status quo as unassailable. In this context of romantic relationships, the social role is being identified as occupying an explicit niche that does not include sharing everything with your partner. It's a prescription of what a romantic relationship ought to be, confining it within specific parameters. In particular, the "advice" revolves around deliberately maintaining "individuality," by avoiding letting any given person have access to all your "secrets," and instead portioning out distinct doses among the different roles these people occupy. They talk about having things that are "just for you," because holding them back helps retain an "erotic charge." In this framework, a romantic partner is not so much a person with whom you are sharing your life, and more of a fellow actor with whom you are playing out a scene. You are exhorted to maintain your "interiority," by not sharing too many details of your life with them -- this would break the immersion of the manufactured scene you play. "Who you are" is divested from "what you do."

We call this alienation. This mindset plays out in parallel prescriptions, like the "advice" that, past a certain stage of life, you shouldn't be asking friends to give you rides to the airport or help you move -- these are considered services, to be rendered by those who play the role of "worker." Need someone to watch your kids? Hire a babysitter. Need to vent about your frustrations and insecurities? Hire a therapist -- or talk to a priest, a role which, of course, ought to be considered a universal part of social life. Life becomes a series of regimented, discrete market exchanges. People become vending machines from which to purchase particular services. Rather than an interwoven tapestry of communal relations, with redundant strands reinforcing every social need, you live for yourself. The appeal of this is that it allows you to feel like you can control the social environment in which you live. With enough money, moxy, and manipulation, you can get the best of every exchange -- get everything you want from others while giving away as little as possible. You replace the communal courtyard with a fenced-in lawn. You become the little lord of your petty fiefdom. If life ever feels hollow, it's not because you lack a real community -- it's because you haven't purchased the right community tokens from your people-vending machines. Alienation is destructive. You don't have to wall yourself off and jealousy guard some precious "individual essence" from those around you. The more of yourself you share with others, the stronger you become -- it's only through social interactions that our selves become real.