I recently read a book called Deathby Suburb: How to Keep the Suburbs from Killing your Soul, by David L.Goetz. I had marked it on my list of
potentially interesting books a long time ago, and I ordered it to complete the
$35 minimum for Amazon to send me something for free. (I am not a big fan of Amazon’s business modeland generally try to avoid the site, but I do use it for obtaining things that
are not available from other sources).
It turns out this is part of the
hugely popular category of modern Christian self-help books. I normally have little use for either modern,
or nondenominational Christian, or self-help books, but here was all of the
above right on my doorstep. I don’t know
if I hadn’t read the fine print long ago when I initially marked this book as
potentially interesting, because at least by the time I actually ordered it, I
was expecting it to be some sort of secular sociological analysis of suburban
living. At any rate, now that I had it,
I went ahead and read it, and as you will see, I was both pleasantly surprised
by the relevance of its content and intellectually engaged in exploring the
larger implications of the author’s arguments.
Goetz seems to use a figurative
definition of the suburbs as a comfortably middle-class, consumerist
society. He recognizes the actual ethnic
and socioeconomic diversity of today’s suburbs, which are largely non-rich and
non-white, but then seems to brush this aside and focus on the white
bourgeoisie as the implicit center of his characterization and his critique of
the suburbs. I don’t begrudge him this
sleight of hand—“suburban” is a convenient shorthand for the
upper-middle-class, achievement- and status-obsessed, largely white culture
that Goetz describes. That said, his
analysis extends well beyond the suburbs (and at the same time doesn’t apply to
large swathes of them); I know many people living in the middle of the big city
that suffer from some of the issues Goetz describes and who would do well to
apply some of his lessons, and at the same time many areas and people in
“suburban” Arlington, Virginia do not exhibit the tendencies the author
discusses.
Goetz structures his book in
chapters headed by an “environmental toxin” offered by the suburban lifestyle,
and a spiritual practice that can solve or counteract this toxin. The first chapter touches on the desire for
control, counteracted by prayerful silence.
The second aims to counteract our tendency to define ourselves by our work
and possessions, through a better exploration of our real selves through contemplation. The third chapter counteracts envy with spending time
around people who have little material wealth.
The fourth recommends replacing a quest for ease and feelings of
entitlement with gracefully accepting the challenges in your life. The fifth urges us not to arrogantly seek
accomplishments and results in life, even in noble pursuits to help others, but
rather to find meaning in the honest pursuit of the good, whether or not it
yields immediate results. The sixth
calls for us to remain rooted in a church (and by extension in a community, if
you’re not a religious practitioner) as opposed to shopping around for the
place that most entertains or delights us.
The seventh calls us to seek deep and meaningful friendships, not
functional or self-serving networking relationships. The last piece of counsel urges us to avoid
trying to program and optimize productivity in every moment of our lives, and
instead to learn to savor and cherish time on its own terms.
In general, “Death by Suburb” is a
book about how to stay sane in a socially and morally toxic environment. Goetz looks at it from a certain brand of
Christian morality, but I think that many of his observations and
recommendations are relevant for all people, Christian and non-Christian
alike. The author’s categorization of
the suburbs (again, “suburbs” as shorthand for modern consumerism and the
clustering of economic elites into homogeneous neighborhoods) as a toxic
environment rings true to me, but I also find a major flaw in his own thinking
as a bourgeois white suburban male. He
is unable to fully divorce himself from the values of his own suburban milieu,
such that instead of offering a structural critique of the suburban conception
of “the good life” as excessive material consumption, dependence on cars, and
physical and social separation from people of other socioeconomic classes,
Goetz simply offers advice for dealing with or avoiding the noxious effects of
this “good life”. That is to say that he
doesn’t question the supremacy and desirability of living in the suburbs; for
him the norm, the gold standard, is still suburban life, so even while he
details all the personal and social woes that inherently arise from this set of
values, he isn’t willing to totally discard the consumerist, elitist values for
an entirely new set.
I appreciate
Goetz’s implicit recognition that each of us needs to work where we happen to
be if we wish to make our lives and the world more decent. If most of his audience is in the suburbs,
surrounded by materialism, racial and economic segregation, car-worship, etc.,
then they must work in that milieu to seek spiritual and moral
improvement. The hundreds of millions of
people in the US living in the suburbs can’t all simply uproot and move to an ashram
somewhere. I get that. In fact, it echoes a reflection fromDavid Foster Wallace that I much admire about finding decency and nobility and worth even in therelatively sterile contexts (like waiting in line for groceries at rush hour)that characterize much of modern life.
But if you do indeed believe that
the suburban environment is toxic, as Goetz’s arguments would lead me to
believe he does, then his series of personal spiritual exercises to stay sane
and safe in that environment (while not working to fundamentally change it) is
essentially a way for you to save yourself, and everyone else is screwed. It’s like protecting yourself from a war
while others suffer around you. It’s
like teaching white kids in the Jim Crow South to train their minds away from
the evil of institutionalized racism, to keep from being spiritually
contaminated by it, while not fighting against that racism. What’s more, by not engaging head-on with the
fundamentally flawed and incorrect value system that sees material consumption
and social advancement as the ultimate source of worth and personal
fulfillment, by not condemning this system explicitly and totally, Goetz and
his readers are themselves condemned never to escape its noxious effects. If he insists on continuing to bask in the
short-term and shallow satisfaction that he gets from buying junk, being
entertained, and feeling materially comfortable, then he cannot attain the
moral, mental, and spiritual enlightenment that he himself implies will only
come from recognizing the emptiness of this fleeting satisfaction.
From Goetz’s (and my) more
explicitly Christian angle, this shortcoming of his approach becomes even more
apparent. Christ doesn’t stand for
saving yourself and leaving others behind, but rather for sacrificing yourself
in order to save others. I think that
most Christian morality today would argue that it is our duty to fight
injustice, to change the toxic elements we see at work in our world. If you don’t see the toxic injustice around
you, and especially if you’ve segregated yourself in order to be surrounded
only by life’s winners, how will you even know what problems exist in the
larger society that you as a Christian, or simply as a decent person, are
called upon to address? In this sense
Goetz appears to suffer from that common aversion of rich, white people in the US to admitting any
systemic problems with the (white-run, rich-run) society. He plainly sees many problems around him, but
is unwilling to entertain the possibility that they stem from fundamental
shortcomings in our current way of doing things. The health, environmental, social, economic,
racial, and even geopolitical problems that I would argue are inherent results
of a suburban lifestyle based on cars, material consumption, elitism, racial
and economic segregation, etc., to Goetz are mere technical glitches in an
otherwise sound system. They can simply be
resolved by technical means (or personal spiritual exercises) that do not fundamentally challenge the supremacy
of that system.
So while Goetz’s analysis of the
problems of suburbia is much in line with my own, his approach for dealing with
them is fundamentally opposed to my understanding of Christianity. I understand Christianity not as a way of
ensuring your own salvation by tolerating or avoiding the problems around you,
but rather as a way of lifting up everyone around you by fighting these
problems. Goetz explicitly calls out
multiple negative traits and tendencies of suburban life. To wit, consumerism, greed, envy, hubris,
competitive and compulsive accumulation of wealth, and isolation from others
(especially the poor). When are these
traits ever okay for a Christian or anyone else to possess? If your way of life is founded on these, then
you need a radical change of life, not just a more enlightened state of mind while
you live amid the toxic dump. It’s good
to see hints of the Kingdom of God even in the mundane and in our flawed
surroundings, as Goetz does, but my understanding of the Kingdom of God is that
it is a future goal to work towards, something that we ourselves must bring
closer to fruition by spreading life and justice in the world, especially in
the dead parts of the world like the suburbs Goetz describes.
All these general criticisms aside,
I liked the book. The tone was
accessible and unassuming, and Goetz coins a few useful phrases and concepts,
such as seeing your big house or your high-achieving child as “immortality symbols” for a
parent. Maybe Goetz avoids the explicit
systemic critique of suburbia because he doesn’t want to sound too radical or
ascetic, and thus lose his audience.
But the question remains: If the suburbs are so inimical to Christian
(or simply humane) life, then why not move?
In this sense Goetz’s book is like an advice tract on how to lead a
decent Muslim life while living in a bordello that sells beer and pork
sausage. I’m sure it can be done, but it
would probably just be more logical and simple to get away from inherently
immoral settings. This is the
fundamental issue I have with the book, especially as someone who grew up in a
very urban environment. It’s as if Goetz
doesn’t even consider the possibility of getting away from the suburbs (despite
the current trend of young professionals’ living more urban lives, renouncing
cars, and consuming less junk).
I appreciate that each of us needs
to live and work in the community we belong to, but the elite suburbs the Goetz
describes are places people move to, places you choose to live in. Even in settings where such suburbs seem
ubiquitous (northern Virginia, for example), and even if you grew up in such a
suburb, living in this way implies a decision, though admittedly one so
embedded in our collective national value system that it’s hard to see as
anything but inevitable. If you have
elected to live somewhere remote, unwalkable, expensive, inconvenient, and removed
from human contact, there must be a whole set of cultural factors at play that
have driven you to this choice despite all the apparent drawbacks. And whether or not you’re conscious of it,
your living in a suburb means that you have basically accepted this baggage of
cultural norms to drive your choice of where to live. This decision to live in the suburbs then
necessitates any number of further choices—to buy a car, to commute long
distances, to be always in a rush after hours of commuting, to compete for
scarce spots in schools and other kids’ activities, to helicopter parent so as
to ensure your kids get ahead of others, to consume lots of junk to fill the hole
left by lack of daily human contact on the street, etc. Instead of opting for all these things, and
then having to read Goetz’s book and make a conscious effort to reconnect to
humanity and your soul, why not just make the conscious choice from the start to live around
other, normal people in a city and realize that you’re just one of them?
This harks back to Goetz’s
reflections on being around people who do not possess the immortality symbols
you may be mistakenly valuing (fancy houses, cars, etc.). He would have readers seek out refugees and
desperate people to find God’s people. I generally agree with the spirit of his argument here.
But this conception of refugees and the poor as a tool for reflection or
spiritual enlightenment, and not as people for their own sake, is both
condescending and dehumanizing. Goetz and his ilk would do better
to simply invite over some of his kids’ classmates and their families for
dinner. He vaunts the ethnic and
economic diversity of his town’s school, so he could surely get to know people
from all walks of life, and make human friends with them. This would be a relationship based not on charity, pity, or spiritual seeking, but simple neighborliness and decency. Goetz
describes as almost heroic a peer who simply pointed a poor
neighbor towards some potential clients for that neighbor’s new business
enterprise. To me this isn’t an act of
charity or heroism, but simply common decency and friendship. Finally, even the refugees and “apartment
people” (he actually uses this term to describe people who don’t live in big
McMansions like him) are probably not as alien and destitute as Goetz would
imagine. I currently live in a somewhat
precarious economic situation, with five people living in a two-bedroom
apartment, but I am a very literate person with a masters degree. I have a Syrian refugee neighbor that
formerly held a high-level government position, and a Honduran refugee friend
who used to have her own business and multiple cars but now mops a US grocery
store after hours. There are all kinds
of people in the world, and they don’t neatly fit into categories of “noble
poor” and “comfortable wealthy”. Goetz
here, in his narrow characterization of refugees and the non-wealthy, shows
just how little time he spends with people outside of his preferred
socioeconomic niche.
The last and most important problem with his injunction to spend more time with the noble poor is that Goetz
is unable to recognize or admit the many problems and privations suffered by
his white, wealthy suburban neighbors.
I’m sure that, if they were willing to let him into their lives, he
would find in his “well-off” neighbors all sorts of loneliness, loss, grief,
debt, worries, health problems, depression, alienation, etc. They may have some of the immortality symbols
he values, like a nice car or house or a kid in a top college, but they surely
also lack some other immortality symbols, like a stable marriage, or they may
have children with disabilities, etc. If
Goetz wants to help his fellow man, he doesn’t to seek out a Calcutta to
enlighten him—the suffering and imperfection that he rightly believes lead us
away from a shallow, unconsidered life, can be found all around, even in his
wealthy surroundings.
Goetz repeatedly calls for people to
step outside the suburbs in order to advance their spiritual development. He mentions going to elite wilderness
vacation spots like Aspen or Wyoming in order to get closer to nature and
God. But if he lived in a city, and even
surely within the suburban settings he knows, Goetz could find plenty of nearby
places to find solitude, nature, God.
He’s from the Chicago suburbs, so I can recommend any number of places
in the city for him, from blighted streets where second-growth forest is peeking
up through abandoned sidewalks and basement foundations, to under-utilized parks
designed in the 1800s, to rocks and beaches on lonely stretches of the
lakefront.
In the end, if Goetz
wants to offer people a path to spiritual enlightenment in the suburbs, it must involve not just changing oneself, or looking outside the suburbs to find
“poor people problems” to keep you real. No, a true path to living a more human life
in the suburbs must first of all recognize the very real and inherent problems
of those very suburbs. Such a path would call us to
see and denounce the damaging tendencies present there, and it would allow us to
rework the elements in the culture of the suburbs that favor these
tendencies of consumerism, selfishness, envy, etc. A path to enlightenment in the suburbs would make each of us recognize that we must tear down
the walls that separate us from the rest of humanity, walls epitomized by the
entire suburban paradigm. Above all, this path would have people acknowledge that white, wealthy suburbanites should not only be looking
to help the benighted rest of us, but that both the wealthy and the poor, the
suburban and the urban, the white and the non-white, are all bearers of both
many problems with which we need help, but also the potential to help others
with their own problems. (I
will repeat one last time the disclaimer that "suburbs" here describes
more a way of unconscious, uncritical, materialistic living than an actual place.
There are plenty of city people and city places that are full of Goetz's "suburban" traits, and
plenty of suburbs and suburbanites that are very much in contact and solidarity with a more
conscious, real way of living.)
I fear that Goetz,
having lived his entire life in a paradigm where wealthy, mainly white
suburbanites are considered the top of the heap, is unable to see that the
problems of suburbia are not merely minor blemishes on an otherwise optimal way
of living, but rather that some of the most dire need and emptiness may be
present among the supposed winners of society, those living in Goetz's idealized suburbia. The world is not split neatly between well-off
suburbs where people have most of the answers and just need a bit of spiritual
guidance, and deprived ghettoes or Third World countries where suburbanites may
find this missing spiritual fulfillment while providing the material help that
the poor are unable to provide themselves.
No, we are all neighbors and partners in the human enterprise, and a
social structure based on consumerism, elitism, envy, segregation, and
exclusion can only keep us from realizing this and working together to better
our shared world.
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