Why We Hate Each Other So Much

55 years after the first episode of Mr. Rogers, we’ve lost the desire to ask, “would you be my neighbor?”

We are living in polarizing times. Tell people you plan to vote for Kamala Harris or Donald Trump and 50% of the country immediately hates you. You could lose half your friends in the blink of an eye. So, how did we get here?

The answer has a lot to do with architecture. Yup, architecture. Let me explain.

My grandparents on their honeymoon.

A Brief History Lesson

You can trace this polarization back to the early 1900s. See, back in those days, there was no electricity. That meant no air conditioning. The only way to cool off was to sit outside, typically on a front porch. The porch was shaded and cool in warmer weather and protected from the elements in harsher conditions.

The porch offered a buffer between the private and public domain, allowing people to interact with their community. Families who weren’t “porching” (yes, that’s a verb) strolled the neighborhood in the evenings.

Why are you reading this article when you could be listening to my buttery smooth voice read it to you on Spotify, Apple iTunes, iHeart Radio, or wherever you get your podcasts?

Courtesy of Francesca Tosolini

As Richard H. Thomas points out in his iconic and timeless 1975 essay, “From Porch to Patio,” the front porch was the epicenter of the home. After dinner, families slowly strolled by on sidewalks. The porch allowed for less privacy, but it encouraged communal gathering with neighbors.

The Precursor to Facebook

The porch was a place to observe the comings and goings of the neighborhood. You could catch up on the latest neighborhood intel—things like who was pregnant, who was engaged, or who had a new job. Yes, in many ways, the front porch was the precursor to Facebook and Twitter. The front porch facilitated a sense of belonging, of community.

First time reading? Subscribe for free here.

People knew your business because you lived your life in the open. Nobody hid behind a screen. We could see the good along with the bad.

Bumpin’ in the ‘Burbs

However, as technology evolved, homes were fitted with electricity. People migrated from metropolitan areas to “planned communities” in the suburbs.

The suburbs presented low-cost alternatives to crowded, in-town living. People traded a sense of community in the city for the anonymity of the ‘burbs, and the neighborhood turnover was high.

Business in the Front—Party in the Back

At the same time, modern home architecture moved the front porch to the backyard. Most backyard patios included fences and walls to provide privacy from the peering eyes of pesky neighbors. One might argue that the backyard patio killed communal living and relationships, and they’d be right.

The Breakdown

So, what does all this have to do with our current political polarization? Well, once we retreated from the front porch to the backyard patio, it signaled a breakdown of the neighborhood.

Courtesy of vectevy.com

Watchful Eyes

Remember years ago when the simple sound of the doorbell brought a thundering herd to the front door? It was as if Jesus Christ himself had chosen your house for the second coming.

People often came with gifts of baked goods. The Fuller Brush man gave free combs. The Charlie’s Chips man gave away potato chip samples. Even the Mathis Dairy milkman occasionally gave away chocolate milk. It was glorious.

In 2024, the front yard is no longer governed by the watchful eyes on the porch. Today, that surveillance has been transferred to the electronic eyes of the Ring Camera and doorbell. That doorbell now insulates us from all sorts of interlopers.

The doorbell of today brings instant panic and alarm. Everyone freezes, and someone asks, “Was that the doorbell?” The typical answer today: “It can’t be the doorbell, we aren’t expecting anyone.” Nobody wants to brave the uncharted waters to the front door. Everyone has the same thought, “Maybe they’ll just go away.”

This comedian absolutely nails it.

How times have changed. The doorbell is simply a metaphor for how we live our lives. We live behind closed doors, insulated from the outside world by layers and layers of technology. We barely know our neighbors.

”Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?” (Mr. Rogers)

A 2018 survey by the Pew Research Center found that only 25% of Americans knew most of their neighbors. A similar number of Americans were unable to provide any specific information about their neighbors.

Courtesy of MisterRogers.org

I recently met my neighbor across the street. His first question was, “How long have you lived on the street?” I think we were both embarrassed when I said nine years. Mr. Rogers would have been so disappointed in us. He knew everyone in his neighborhood.

The byproduct of all this privacy is the loss of civility. We hunker down in our foxholes. We stopped trying to love thy neighbor.

The Big Finish

So, let’s recap what we’ve learned here. First, in earlier times, the porch was the epicenter of the home. People used the porch as a way to commune with neighbors. Second, people lived their lives in the open. Nobody hid behind a screen. Third, people migrated from metropolitan areas to “planned communities” in the suburbs. They traded a sense of community for the privacy of the suburban melting pot. Fourth, cheap suburban architecture introduced the cookie-cutter, pre-fab home without a porch. Private patios were moved to the backyard for privacy. Fifth, people stopped communing with one another. The privacy prevented us from knowing (or loving) our neighbor. Sixth, new technology like Ring Doorbell Cameras and social media further insulated us from one another. Lastly, the globalization of the internet killed our sense of civility. Most social media platforms are fueled by anger and vitriol. Yes, Mr. Rogers is rolling over in his grave.

I’m a team of one. I write only for the joy of writing. I rely on referrals to grow my audience. If you know someone who'd enjoy Wit & Wisdom, forward this article and they can sign up here.

Please click the button below to leave a comment. I read and respond to all of them.

Reply

or to participate.