Normalcy is a Social Construct

 By Cristina Goerdt

Like so many others, last week I mindlessly scrolled through social media, reading the social distancing regulations, laughing at online class memes, and scanning (yet another) Instagram bingo challenge, when something caught my eye. 

“Thousands are dying but you want me to write you a ten page paper???” the text post read, brutal in its honesty and sweeping generalization of a horrendously complex situation. 

And yet, there was truth in the statement — truth enough to give me pause and think about whether or not I agreed with the displeasure and disgust expressed. 

Thousands are dying, and I’m expected to carry on as normal, “as best as I can.” Yes, I’m expected to produce three term papers and two presentations and four final exams in a timely manner as though it’s normal that leaving the house places my life in jeopardy, that I can’t celebrate my sister earning her PhD, that I have friends calling me saying they don’t know how to afford groceries because they lost their jobs when campus closed but they don’t qualify for stimulus checks and their parents were laid off. 

About a month ago, when the first tendrils of fear were just beginning to seize the nation, I sat in a coffee shop, sipping an Americano and scribbling in a black notebook about the delicacy of humanity. “Normalcy is a social construct, and the sun is just as warm when the sky is falling down,” I wrote. 

A few days later, I would be told to pack up what I could and return home, where I could complete my inaugural semester at CUA in isolated safety. 

As contrived as it may sound, normalcy is a social construct. The colonies were ruled by the British — until they weren’t. No one used cell phones — until all of a sudden, they did. Our modern day conception of the state, born from the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, wasn’t “normal” when one considers historical precedence. Enlightenment thinkers Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau created an artificial system in which to develop a peaceful society, a new normal — the “social contract” they termed this grand experiment of social psychology and political philosophy. 

These historical examples suggest that man boasts the ability to form good from evil, to mold order from chaos, to create a so-called “new normal.” But ought we? Do we have a mandate, a categorical imperative, to forge into a brave new world? Is this new reality worth adopting? 

The current circumstances require us to consider why we have society at all. Aristotle tells us that man is by nature a political animal, and that all human behavior aims at some good. Plato’s student also writes extensively on the topic of friendship, writing that friendship is a prerequisite to achieving the good life and this particular good is supra-political. 

In contrast, Hobbes viewed man as a disorderly creature, who required the society to prevent unnecessary bloodshed and conflict, whereas Locke thought society as a preservation of life and property rights, and Rousseau found society primarily relational, built upon the particular and the general will. 

If any of these definitions explain the purpose of “society,” what of education? Why do we place such enormous value, both financially and morally, on receiving a “good” education? Grappling with virtual classes, modified assignments, loss of on-site experiences, discussions held over computer screens rather than face-to-face, I’m compelled to ask if there’s something more to education. Is education really about writing ten page papers, as the text post contends, or is what I’m really missing some intangible, inherent quality? 

As it turns out, education is not about term papers with a page limit and academic presentations. It’s not about reading five chapters one night and thirteen the next, or cramming for a 100-point exam. 

Education’s zenith is achieved when the very act itself leads to a wider understanding of humanity and greater engagement with the world. Education asks us to be present, to exist, to confront what we thought we knew with that of which we were unaware. The importance of the process far outstrips the goal; becoming educated is an end as much as it is a means. The most effective education occurs when we are presented with material that personally challenges us, not only intellectually, but also morally; when it becomes not about them or that but about us and me. 

If the crux of education’s purpose lies in the student’s personal experiences, however, then it follows that education also depends upon the student’s availability, both mentally and emotionally, to learn. Students need to possess the ability to “show up,” so to speak, and put in the work. 

Education has never meant to be distance-based. Essays and exams and presentations are only the means to the end of achieving personal evolution, they are not education itself. Education best functions when dialogue is face-to-face, when art history classes can visit the National Gallery of Art, when experience and a student’s capacity to create personal encounters with the material is prioritized over assignments. 

Yes, social distancing is our “new normal,” and by no means am I arguing that we should suspend all education until this crisis has passed. What I caution against is adopting a cavalier attitude that everything is okay because isolation is a type of ideal after which society ought to be fashioned.

However we philosophically conceive of the term “society,” it is clear that humans are political, social, interdependent creatures who live in community, and have done so for millennia. Simply put, living in isolation is not normal for humans, and never has been.

“Normal” exists to foster prosperity and peace. The social contract demands that we operate within the same system, that we understand the rules and regulations of the society in which we live. Is not understanding the basis of faith, literature, art, and science? Isn’t understanding the reason we educate ourselves at all?

It’s difficult to seek the understanding that education requires when nothing is “normal.” And yet, I would argue that all is not lost. Man can create from chaos — not necessarily order, perhaps, but even the Dadaists of 1920s Germany managed to create something worth remembering from the destruction following World War One. 

Society will never be the same after this crisis. The virus has irrevocably altered our economy, and the way we learn, conduct politics, and interact with each other. The normal will shift, just as it has after every major international event. The good news is that we’ll be shifting together.