Each person experiences different social terrain. Some walk on rolling hills, with plenty of paths to take, while others are traversing mountain ridges and deep gullies, following single-track trails. Unlike physical terrain, social terrain is intersubjective and actively shaped: it is carved by time spent with other people.
A friendship that spans between groups in conflict can blast a notch in the mountain ridge dividing them, and interracial marriage is a river that cuts straight through; time spent with others softens the grade between social worlds, breaking down prejudices and assumptions. In contrast, isolation steepens the walls of the social/psychological holes that are all too easy to fall into. If you stay in one place too long, the walls can become too steep to climb, and you can get stuck.

To someone who has always experienced smooth social terrain, they cannot fathom what being in such a social hole is like. And those who have never experienced living in rich community will likely perceive the world as jagged and steep, and will anxiously cling onto the few paths they have. In general, those who have always had consistent social terrain, whether it be steep or smooth, have a difficult time understanding the highly individualized and contextual nature of social terrain. Instead of recognizing the constraining effects of social structure on an individual’s behavior and actions, they may instead attribute their success or failings to some personal characteristic such as extroversion or mental illness.
Those who have lived through both extremes, experiencing the richness of community and the poverty of isolation, whether it be due to a fall from grace, or a social “glow-up”, are then able to compare and contrast the different social terrains and draw conclusions for themselves on the conditions that resulted in the shift. Those who fall into a hole may become bitter, blaming themselves or others around them for the walls that now constrain and mute them, while those who manage to climb out may attribute it to their own strength, or to some ideology or group that helped lift them. In both cases, the rationalizations serve to further cement the stability of their current state. Bitterness and self-pity leads to further isolation, while attributing one’s salvation to the social group they are now a part of solidifies their bond with that group. The first descent or ascension does not lead one to “Truth”; multiple transformations are required to see the over-all pattern and structure. One must continue to grow to see the full picture.
Holes and Canyons
For example, consider the extreme edge-case of the religious cult that proselytizes to people. They do not target those who are well-connected within a community, but rather they reach out to those who are isolated and highly constrained, under the pretext of charity. Through outreach, these groups carve footholds in the cliffs surrounding their targets, giving them a path to smoother social terrain. If their targets choose to take that path, they will be welcomed into a community on the other side, and, grateful for being saved from their prior state, will likely attribute their newfound life to the group and its beliefs. Then, they will be easily manipulated into believing that the group is the “only way”, and with this conviction, they will be motivated to extend the same “lifeline” to others.
These groups are, in a way, a safety net for the bottom of society, but they tend to be highly insular, as the limited perspective of new converts leads them to credit the group with absolute truth. This creates a barrier of exclusivity that limits the overall mobility of those who are caught by it. Ultimately, their targets just move from an individualized hole to a collective one.
Now, not all religious groups have this insular nature. Many religious leaders are highly committed to interfaith dialogue and engagement with the greater community they form a part of. They are able to connect with those that subscribe to different belief systems and worldviews by drawing upon similarities in their teachings and ethical frameworks, such as the principle of reciprocity (otherwise known as the Golden Rule), which can be found in both Western and Eastern religion and philosophy.1 As a result, their outreach efforts are not a trap that limits one’s path in life, but rather they are a genuine gateway to the world. Within the sphere of religion, interfaith dialogue and finding common ideological ground is the solution to softening the over-all social terrain. Through the interactions and discussions between religious leaders, paths are formed between the groups, allowing members to form their own beliefs, either through solidifying their own, switching to another, or adopting a more universal worldview. Without these potential paths, believers are stripped of their spiritual agency, and their intellectual lives are stunted.
Within the sphere of every-day life, world-expanding paths between groups can be compared to individual relationships in a social network. Similar to a religious cult that has cut itself off, ideologically, from the rest of the world, someone who has very few actual relationships will likewise be highly constrained in their thoughts and actions. For example, if someone has only one friend, they may not realize it if their friend is actually a bully, because they will believe they are a good friend by pure necessity. If they were to realize the truth about their friend, they would cease to be friends with them, and thus would be alone. Total social isolation spells death, so out of an act of self-preservation, the mind will construct a narrative about that person that justifies the continuation of the relationship.2 Abusers take advantage of this and will attempt to isolate their victims from everyone except themselves, resulting in a relationship of complete dependence, and therefore of absolute power.3

Alternative paths in the social terrain are therefore required for people to be able to escape systems of domination and oppression. These paths take the form of relationships, established through depth of time in interaction and the breadth of mutual connections. They are also required, on the other side of things, to prevent people from committing atrocities. If someone occupies a position above and below others, they may feel that it is a necessity to carry out orders from their superior, as it would maintain the overall order and preserve their position above their subordinates.4 However, if they have some form of veto power, either by making a lateral move, such as switching jobs or positions, or by appealing to some higher power, whether it be their superior’s superior or a deity, they then have the ability to consciously make an ethical decision. Absolute loyalty to a hierarchy opens the door to unspeakable evil, but alternative paths give people the agency to close that door.
We are more able to choose the “right path” the more that we are surrounded by supportive community. The more options one has for validation and support, through access to vibrant, interwoven community, the more that one can feel a sense of agency in the world and experience personal growth.5 Those without these support structures are in danger of becoming trapped by the aforementioned structures of isolation and exclusion. At the extreme edge-cases, these steep structures manifest as some of the darkest parts of humanity: cults and abusive relationships. Those in these dark places have acquired learned-helplessness, beat into them every time they try and fail to climb the walls that surround them. To them, the impassable terrain is as fixed as the ground that they physically walk on. But a kind word from a stranger can become a conversation and a conversation can become a relationship and a relationship can become one’s path to safety.
Mutability and Agency
As stated in the beginning of this article, social terrain is not fixed, it is actively shaped. There may be feedback loops in place that tend to create stable structures, leading to the illusion of permanence and immutability, but the fact is, one does have agency.
To take on a fatalistic perspective, to believe that everything is pre-destined and deterministic, results in a passive and muted relationship to the world, one in which humans are nothing but straw dogs to be discarded by the gods.6 On the other hand, to ignore the structural constraints that are imposed on people by society is to deny people’s lived experiences and instead attribute every personal failure to a personality flaw. The interplay between action and structure must be considered to have a solid grasp on the nature of society. As stated by the sociologist Hartmut Rosa in his recent book Resonance: A Sociology of Our Relationship to the World, which explores the importance of having “resonant” (i.e. dynamic and reciprocal) relationships for a fulfilling life,
“Relationships to the world are always dynamic, constituted by and through a process of evolving encounters between subject and world. Any analysis of relating to the world is therefore incomplete, indeed flawed, if it fails to take into account the dynamic character of such relationships.”7
The mutability of social terrain is evidence of this dynamic relationship. If I make a new friend, I suddenly have new paths through them, and they have new paths through me. If I move to a new city, I form a social bridge between the cities that aids in inter-city mobility. If I go from rags to riches, I become a ladder crossing socioeconomic lines. It is when my affiliations are many, either through having multiple friends, or being involved in multiple groups, or through upward mobility, that my actions create alternative paths for others, lessening in-group biases, softening the over-all social terrain, and facilitating intergroup relations.8

“Each person experiences different social terrain. Some walk on rolling hills, with plenty of paths to take, while others are traversing mountain ridges and deep gullies, following single-track trails. Unlike physical terrain, social terrain is intersubjective and actively shaped: it is carved by time spent with other people.”
But going against the contours of social terrain, by interacting with people who are different than oneself, is hard work. It goes against the principle of homophily, that “birds of a feather flock together.”9 Yet, it is precisely this behavior that is necessary for the establishment of alternative paths for people. If everyone were to just continue to deepen the grooves that have already been laid down, the network density of the world would slowly fade as lives and relationships end. Those who have an outward orientation, who seek out new experiences and new relationships, connecting the dots and bridging the gaps, are the ones who hold it all together. They provide alternative paths so that people won’t be constrained as victim or abuser. They are love.
The author James Baldwin, who was an openly bisexual Black man fighting for civil rights from the 1950s to the 1980s, likely experienced steep social terrain, due to prejudice and discrimination. Here is what he said about love:
“Love has never been a popular movement. And no one’s ever wanted, really, to be free. The world is held together, really it is held together, by the love and the passion of a very few people. Otherwise, of course, you can despair. Walk down the street of any city, any afternoon, and look around you. What you’ve got to remember is what you’re looking at is also you. Everyone you’re looking at is also you. You could be that person. You could be that monster, you could be that cop. And you have to decide, in yourself, not to be.”10
Perhaps the monsters in our lives were simply funneled into their position by the monsters in their lives. This is why James Baldwin said “You could be that monster”. It is pure naïvety, and reeks of a superiority complex, to think that one is immune to falling into these traps and becoming the monster in other people’s stories.
The limitation of the human experience is that although we can imagine what it would be like to be a different person, our life paths are a one-way ticket, and we can only understand others through the lens of our own experiences. There are no do-overs, and no way of truly knowing where life will take you. This is especially true for those who have limited paths, who navigate narrow canyons, unsure of what awaits around the bend.
We are made of the same stuff, and we are molded by the social terrain we are brought up in. This isn’t to say that we have no agency in the matter, but rather that there are constraining forces at play. And these constraining forces are amplified the steeper that the social terrain gets. Thus, those who are relatively unconstrained and care about freedom for all should use their freedom to soften the social terrain for others – to blaze a network of trails that can be another’s path to safety and freedom.
Out of the Depths
But ultimately, it is still up to each person to take the step toward the light. The interface between those who are well-connected and those who are in the depths of isolation and exclusionary worldviews is like the bus-stop at the foothills of heaven described by the theologian C.S. Lewis in his book The Great Divorce. In this allegory, which parallels the concept of social terrain, the bus picks up people from a dimly lit hell, and takes them on a field trip to heaven. Yet, the trip to heaven was not one of ascension, but rather of expansion. The seemingly expansive and infinite hell in the story was but an immaterial speck among the blades of grass in heaven.11 Similarly, exiting isolation and exclusion is a reality-warping experience: in the depths, one becomes so accustomed to the walls that they appear to be the horizon, the firmament of one’s reality.

It can also be compared to the allegory of Plato’s cave, where one mistakes the images on the wall for reality itself. The view upon exiting can be disorienting, even blinding, as if one is seeing in color for the first time.13 And exiting is a one-way trip, as one cannot shrink oneself back into hell. The silos and echo chambers we find ourselves in – professionally, politically and personally – are but shadows of reality. It takes courage to take the step out of the cave, out of one’s ignorance, and into the unknown. Doing so requires letting go of the walls that one has grown accustomed to, and demands shifting from passivity to actively co-creating the reality in which one plays a part.
This is a difficult transition; people grow attached to the walls that constrain them. A hole can be cozy, especially when paired with ideologies of superiority: thinking that one’s group is special acts as a pleasant justification for being cut off from the rest of society. Leaving these groups – or, at the individual level, coming out of psychosis – is freedom. To be free from small-mindedness, one must let go of the ego that has formed within one’s small world. The ego, which is a predictive model of the world, forms around regularity,14 and thus the transformational process of leaving the equilibrium of an exclusionary worldview necessarily involves the partial or total dissolution of one’s ego, depending on the level of exclusivity that it was formed in. If one chooses to exit such a pit, usually out of necessity due to some emotional or material need, the resulting journey is one of deconstruction: dismantling one’s ego and unlearning one’s worldview. The liminality of such a journey is terrifying, and thus it acts as a sort of psychological wall of flames that reinforces one’s fixed position. But one must push past that fear in order to experience freedom. In the words of the philosopher Simone Weil,
“Such an attachment is perhaps for you that infinitely fine thread, of which Saint John of the Cross speaks, which so long as it is not broken holds the bird down on the ground as effectively as a great metal chain. I imagine that the last thread, although very fine, must be most difficult to cut, for when it is cut we have to fly and that is frightening. But all the same the obligation is imperative. The children of God should not have any other country here below but the universe itself, with the totality of all the reasoning creatures it ever has contained, contains, or ever will contain. That is the native city to which we owe our love.”15
Sensitivity to the psychological dangers that await someone at the threshold is vital, professionally, politically, and personally. One must look past their words and look at the terrain they are in, and how their worldview conforms to it.
For example, an employee who has grown comfortable in their niche may become defensive of their position, afraid that they may not survive the liminal journey of being reskilled. Simply throwing them into a new position is like throwing them against a wall. Paths must be provided ahead of time for them to ease in the transition. Then, the process of reskilling will be one of gradual adjustment, not of dramatic discontinuity.
The groundwork can be laid for such a transition by first facilitating cross-departmental activities, enabling those who are stuck in their silos to start to break down the walls in a safe environment. Then, cross-departmental teams can be formed, enabling employees to begin to absorb the tacit knowledge of how other departments do their work. This prep work must be done at an organizational-wide scale, indiscriminately providing alternative paths for everyone. Otherwise, one may feel as though they are being targeted for change, and as a result they may double-down on staying in their hole. Breaking down corporate silos requires a certain overall terrain which can be facilitated by management, but ultimately the walls must come down from the inside out.
Macrostructural Effects
Not only is the social terrain mutable at the individual and interpersonal level, but it is intersubjective: one’s personal terrain ripples out and affects the over-all terrain, far beyond the sphere of one’s perception. The social terrain of society is thus shaped by the pattern of everyone’s day-to-day actions, and the over-all smoothness of this terrain facilitates intergroup relations. Thus, through adjusting the pattern of my own interactions, by shifting my gaze from the in-group to the out-group, I can actively affect the integration of society as a whole.
This concept, of the macrostructural implications of crosscutting social circles, was explored in depth in the sociologist Peter Blau’s book Crosscutting Social Circles: Testing a Macrostructural Theory of Intergroup Relations. In it, he writes:
“The social integration of the various segments of a large population depends not on strong ingroup ties but on extensive intergroup relations that strengthen the connections among segments and unite them in a distinctive community, notwithstanding their diversity. Value consensus is not sufficient for the social integration of an entire society or large community, and neither is functional interdependence. Although both may contribute to social integration indirectly by promoting intergroup relations, the social integration of a large population depends on the actual connections among its various groups and strata, connections established by the direct associations between members from different groups and strata.”16
In his foundational study, Blau built upon George Simmel’s theory of “intersecting social circles”,17 testing it with census data from 125 major metropolitan areas, using rates of intermarriage as a proxy for intergroup relations. Societal integration, where our differences blend together as if in a melting pot, was the product of intergroup relations, and was most pronounced where heterogeneity (diversity) penetrated down to the micro-level, such that there is diversity not just at the level of the city block, but all the way down to the level of the household. Or, in the workplace, that diversity does not just exist at the level of the company or between departments and teams, but that it penetrates down to the level of interaction on a day-to-day basis.

Why is it important that our diversity penetrates down to the micro-level? Ultimately, it is how we choose to spend our time and who we interact with that shapes the social terrain, and heterogeneity that only exists at the macro or meso levels is less likely to lead to actual interaction between the groups. In fact, it may actually exacerbate group conflict.
The longer that groups are separated from one another, the steeper the walls grow, and the harder it becomes to break them down. If these disconnected groups are in close proximity to one another, this separation will be acutely felt, and at a certain degree of division, the difficulty of bridging the disconnected groups may become so frustrating that it is easier to simply view the other side as the enemy. Or, the metaphysical walls between the groups may materialize in the form of an actual wall. This tipping point can creep up on a population or organization, and to protect against reaching this point, it is important to be proactive. On the individual level, this looks like seeking out new experiences and being a part of multiple groups. On the level of a policy-maker or manager, this looks like designing structures, activities, and environments that create opportunities for genuine interaction between people from different groups.
Uprootedness
Social terrain acts as a constraint to action, but is also actively shaped by people navigating it. Simply following the path of least resistance and only interacting with people who are like you steepens the terrain, not just for yourself but also for other people around you. Going against the grain by interacting with people who are different from you has the opposite effect – it softens the terrain for you and the people around you. These two feedback loops create two points of equilibrium – one of exclusivity, which is static, and one of polyafficity (i.e. affiliation with multiple groups) which is dynamic.
Exclusivity is a static equilibrium point, because the walls just grow steeper and steeper until they appear to be infinite and impassable, while polyafficity is a dynamic equilibrium point – the terrain gets easier over time, but you have to actively adjust your position to maintain balance. Not only do these two states of social terrain exist at the micro level, but because one’s terrain affects another’s, it also exists at a macro level. A society or organization can similarly be smooth or steep, and a shock to the system, either from within or externally, can push it from one state of equilibrium to the other.
The equilibrium state of exclusivity at the individual level is fragmentation at the societal level, while polyafficity among individuals aids in societal or organizational integration. Societal fragmentation, the result of exclusionary ideologies, either manifests as low levels of intergroup relations or as individual isolation, and systematically steepens the terrain. Another way to visualize this is that fragmentation erodes the network of “roots” that bind society together. The resulting condition of “uprootedness” is self-reinforcing, mirroring the reinforcing feedback loops of the underlying conditions of exclusion and isolation. This was the central concept in philosopher Simone Weil’s book The Need for Roots: Prelude to a Declaration of Duties Toward Mankind, in which she states:
“Uprootedness is by far the most dangerous malady to which human societies are exposed, for it is a self-propagating one. For people who are really uprooted there remain only two possible sorts of behavior: either to fall into a spiritual lethargy resembling death, like the majority of the slaves in the days of the Roman Empire, or to hurl themselves into some form of activity necessarily designed to uproot, often by the most violent methods, those who are not yet uprooted, or only partly so.”19
The self-reinforcing nature of uprootedness accelerates societal fragmentation: uprooted people uproot people. As people’s roots to the world are severed, the social walls around people grow steeper, and as a result, exhausted by trying to scale the steep terrain and form connections with others, they give up, accepting their lot. They accept and normalize a mode of life which lacks genuine social connection, and construct infrastructure around this mode of life. If you build it, they will come; the infrastructure investment then draws others into the same mode of existence, spreading the pattern of uprootedness, or what some refer to as a loss of social capital.20
For example, television, which has been identified as a major factor in the dissolution of social capital in America since roughly the 1970s,21 does little to contribute to genuine social connection. It is a simply a salve on the wound of uprootedness. We watch shows to live out a different life vicariously through the actors on the screen, a life that may not be attainable due to one’s isolated and alienated state. More recently, the same can be said in some degree about social media. But it is more than a salve, its pervasiveness has made it a staple. With everyone consuming the same shows and scrolling on the same social media platforms, it has become a social norm to partake in its consumption.22 Abstaining from it may actually inhibit someone’s ability to find common ground with others. Thus, despite contributing heavily to the problem it offers relief from, its ubiquitousness draws more social and capital investment, further solidifying its hold on society and further steepening the social terrain.
In the terrain of the workplace, silos may be exacerbated by a culture of remote work. When people work from home, there is less opportunity for informal conversation and interaction between coworkers, making it more challenging to maintain a collaborative work culture. But the unprecedented events of COVID-19, and its social distancing rules, necessitated the investment in infrastructure that allowed for the workforce to work from home.23 Now, if one goes into the office, there are less people there, and as a result one may end up having to have virtual meetings anyways. They may think “Why even come in to the office if it is mostly empty?”, and as a result will likely follow the trend of remote work.
Some may still prefer to come into the office to maintain a degree of separation between work and home life (or, if the office is particularly empty, to get some peace and quiet), but it is hard to resist the allure of being able to tune into virtual meetings in the comfort of one’s home, in one’s pajamas, sipping hot cocoa. Once this norm sets in in the culture of a company, it is very resistant to change, as people invest time and resources into setting up a home office. The revolutionary cubicle, designed to break down the walls of closed offices, has failed.24 Corporate culture is being uprooted by remote work, for better or for worse.
Acceleration and Resonance
The steepening of the social terrain, and the resulting state of uprootedness, is also caused in part by what the sociologist Hartmut Rosa calls “social acceleration”, where we must go faster and faster in order to stay where we are.25 The demands that modern society places on individuals can lead them to forego putting in the effort to build relationships, as their time and attention is already consumed by running the rat race.
Even within our workplaces, where the power of synergy is harnessed by corporations, the level of actual interaction and cooperation between workers is typically abysmal. The potential benefits of collaboration often go untapped, because people are stuck. They don’t have time to dig themselves out of the pits they have dug for themselves, because they are too busy “putting out fires” and responding to the manufactured urgency of modernity. They are like a hamster on a wheel that spins faster the faster the hamster runs.
So, with the accelerating uprooting of society steeping the social terrain, how steep and jagged have things really become? And can we really chart a course out of the pit we find ourselves in? Should one simply muster their inner strength and get right to climbing? Not exactly, even the most skilled mountaineers carefully plan their ascent. Attacking the wall with abandon is likely to lead to failure, as a route may prove to be impassable. The resulting failed attempt to break out on one’s own may end up backfiring, dampening one’s sense of self-efficacy and discouraging further attempts to climb out, further steepening the terrain.
Thankfully, the social terrain is not completely one’s own responsibility. There is a certain intersubjectivity to the terrain: if someone climbs towards someone who simultaneously climbs toward them, a path forms and flattens where there may have once been a cliff separating the two. Thus, the solution to the seemingly intractable problem of the equilibrium point of exclusion is what Rosa refers to as “resonance”, i.e. simultaneously being affected by and affecting the world, letting it move you, responding to it and making a difference in the world that is in tune with your inner voice.26 When you resonate with someone else, you simultaneously scale the wall separating you from them, and in doing so, form a path.

There is an element of uncontrollability in resonance, as one cannot resonate with everyone and everything, and that even if one can resonate with someone or something, attempting to control the resonant experience actually kills it.27 You can start climbing towards someone, building your half of the trail, and they may fail to reciprocate, and there will be nothing you can do about it. So, if we can’t control it, do we just sit around and wait for the experience to happen, for the world to come and resonate with us? Just because you cannot control the experience, doesn’t mean that you cannot be intentional about creating the conditions that support “resonance”. Autonomy and mobility are often prerequisites to experiencing resonance, as there is no guarantee that the conditions of one’s birth – or one’s starting position in an organization – results in an “oasis of resonance” for them. Autonomy and mobility enable those who are stuck to seek out their own oasis, if they so choose.28
Additionally, as there is no guarantee that one will resonate with their given surroundings, Rosa rightfully notes that resonance is intrinsically linked to a certain degree of openness to new experiences:
“A basic sensitivity to resonance is necessary to be able to meet even that which is completely foreign and at first entirely incomprehensible and irritating, not with a reifying attitude of refusal, rejection, or outright hostility, but with openness and a willingness to allow oneself to be transformed. Xenophobia, by contrast, is in my view the result of a predominantly mute, repulsive relationship to the world, from the perspective of which what is foreign appears only dangerous and disruptive.”29
These preconditions to “resonance” (a dynamic relationship between subject and world) are facilitated by social terrain that is gentle enough to enable one to find their way to the life that works for them. And the only way the social terrain softens to the point where everyone can experience resonance, and thus have a good quality of life, is if a significant portion of the population adopts an orientation to the world marked by a multitude of group affiliations, i.e. polyafficity. These people, who span social worlds, serve as an example to others of openness and inclusivity, and in doing so carve the network of paths that people can take to seek a better life if they so desire. Without these alternative paths, without the rolling hills and gentle slopes of an interwoven society, many people will remain stuck in their silos of isolation and exclusivity, their inner voices muted, unable to even know if there is a better life waiting for them.
Conclusion
Social terrain simultaneously shapes and is shaped by the interaction of those who are a part of it. It acts as a constraint to one’s actions, and has two opposite points of equilibrium, one of exclusion and isolation, and the other of inclusion and polyafficity, i.e. being involved in multiple groups. The equilibrium point of isolation is static, and thus is more stable, as if there is a gravitational pull towards it, while the equilibrium point of polyafficity is dynamic, requiring active attention to maintain. Isolation is characterized by “steep” social terrain, while polyafficity is characterized by “smooth” terrain. Those who are isolated are boxed in by steep walls, and thus tend to have less freedom of thought and lowered social mobility. Their constrained state making them easy targets for cults, abusers, and systems of absolute power. Those who are polyaffic, on the other hand, actively hike up the rolling hills of their social terrain, pivoting their position and direction to maintain the gentle gradient for themselves and others. Although it is more difficult to hold this position, as it is a dynamic equilibrium, the more one practices it, the easier it becomes, and the view from the top is its intrinsic reward.
The mutability of the social terrain – how it is shaped by those who navigate it – acts as a moral imperative to those who grasp it. Isolation, whether at the group or individual level, is harmful for one’s mental health and personal development, and is caused by steep social terrain surrounding the individual or group. While one cannot make someone else start climbing the slopes of their personal terrain, one can, through adjusting their patterns of interaction and designing activities and spaces that encourage intergroup relations, soften the over-all social terrain, reducing the chance that someone falls down the slippery slope of isolation or gets trapped in an exclusionary group. If the overall social terrain is sharp and jagged, one can hardly be blamed for being funneled into these dark pits, while if it is gentle and has plenty of opportunities, one will be able to have more agency over the path that they take in life.
Having agency over one’s life, and being surrounded by supportive community as is typical with smooth social terrain, is vital for personal growth and one’s ability to form a resonant relationship to the world. There is no guarantee that the people you happen to meet first in your journey through life are going to resonate with your inner voice, and thus social mobility, facilitated by a smooth social landscape, is critical to allow people to find their place in the world. One cannot force resonance, one can only soften the terrain to make it easier for people to find their way.
- Ravi Prakash Vyas and Rachit Murarka, “Understanding Human Rights from an Eastern Perspective: A Discourse,” in Asian Yearbook of International Law, Volume 24 (2018), ed. Seokwoo Lee and Hee Eun Lee (Brill, 2020), JSTOR. ↩︎
- B Pelz, “Trauma and Dark Psychology: Therapeutic Approaches to Manipulation, Control, and Power Abuse,” Journal of Psychological Neuroscience 7, no. 2 (2025): 1–15. ↩︎
- Richard M. Emerson, “Power-Dependence Relations,” American Sociological Review 27, no. 1 (1962): 31–41. ↩︎
- Georg Simmel, The Sociology of Georg Simmel (Free Press, 1950), 208. ↩︎
- David S. Lee et al., “I-Through-We: How Supportive Social Relationships Facilitate Personal Growth,” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 44, no. 1 (2018): 37–48, https://doi.org/10.1177/0146167217730371. ↩︎
- John Gray, Straw Dogs: Thoughts on Humans and Other Animals, 1st American ed (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2007). ↩︎
- Hartmut Rosa, Resonance: A Sociology of the Relationship to the World (Polity Press, 2019), 124. ↩︎
- Peter Michael Blau and Joseph E. Schwartz, Crosscutting Social Circles: Testing a Macrostructural Theory of Intergroup Relations (Transaction Publishers, 1997), 53-81. ↩︎
- Miller McPherson et al., “Birds of a Feather: Homophily in Social Networks,” in Annual Review of Sociology, vol. 27, no. Volume 27, 2001, Annual Reviews, 2001, https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.soc.27.1.415. ↩︎
- Meeting The Man : James Baldwin in Paris, directed by Terence Dixon, 1970. ↩︎
- C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce: A Dream (HarperSanFrancisco, 2001). ↩︎
- Camille Flammarion, L’atmosphère : Météorologie Populaire (Paris, 1888), 163. ↩︎
- Rosalin van Schie et al., “From Shadows to Sunlight: Rethinking Intraprofessional Collaboration beyond the Cave,” Medical Education 59, no. 7 (2025): 671. ↩︎
- Michael P Kelly et al., “The Brain, Self and Society: A Social-Neuroscience Model of Predictive Processing,” Social Neuroscience 14, no. 3 (2019): 266–76, https://doi.org/10.1080/17470919.2018.1471003. ↩︎
- Simone Weil, Waiting for God, First Harper Perennial Modern Classics edition, trans. Emma Craufurd, with Joseph Marie Perrin and Leslie A. Fiedler (HarperPerennial ModernClassics, 2009), 49. ↩︎
- Blau and Schwartz, Crosscutting Social Circles, 12. ↩︎
- George Simmel, Conflict and the Web of Group Affiliations (Free Press, 1964). ↩︎
- Blau and Schwartz, Crosscutting Social Circles, 163. ↩︎
- Simone Weil, The Need for Roots: Prelude to a Declaration of Duties Towards Mankind, First Edition (Routledge, 2001), 47. ↩︎
- George M. Alliger, “Social Capital versus Roots: A Review of Bowling Alone,” Attention, 2021, https://attentionsw.org/social-capital-versus-roots-a-review-of-bowling-alone/. ↩︎
- Robert D Putnam, Bowling Alone: Revised and Updated: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (Simon & Schuster, 2020), 223. ↩︎
- Scott Campbell et al., The Structural Transformation of Mobile Communication: Implications for Self and Society (2014), https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315794174. ↩︎
- Lea S Müller et al., “Long-Term Effects of COVID-19 on Work Routines and Organizational Culture–A Case Study within Higher Education’s Administration,” Journal of Business Research 163 (2023): 113927. ↩︎
- David Franz, “The Moral Life of Cubicles: The Utopian Origins of Dilbert’s Workspace,” The New Atlantis, no. 19 (2008): 132–39, JSTOR. ↩︎
- Rosa, Resonance, 21. ↩︎
- Ibid, 174. ↩︎
- Rasmus Johnsen, “Uncontrollability and the Politics of Resonance-Hartmut Rosa on the Human Condition,” Ephemera: Theory & Politics in Organization 24, no. 1 (n.d.). ↩︎
- Rosa, Resonance, 183. ↩︎
- Ibid, 190. ↩︎