on why anyone should care

how do people come to care about something?

this question has been growing within me for some time but it underwent a growth spurt last year in Saxapahaw, North Carolina, debuting a new book by a local author and biofuels innovator Lyle Estill. the book is called Small Stories, Big Changes. it's a great read that features leaders in the sustainability and local economy; that evening, a handful of those near to Saxapahaw joined Lyle in a panel discussion about the book and their work. 

I knew Lyle and some of the people on the panel, as well as a few in the audience, so it was nice to be gathered there in that restored mill to explore topics we all cared about. we were kindred spirits who really got the practical value of things like resilient food systems, robust communities, and renewable energy.

but I grew frustrated in the audience. when I left I felt more dissatisfied than affirmed. why was this? what was my problem?


upon reflection, I think what bothered me was that while every person on the panel could offer a compelling account of their work--their passion, their challenges, their commitment--it all seemed utterly insufficient to move anyone who wasn't already sympathetic to their values.

we were a self-selected audience of fellow progressives who already cared deeply about this stuff. their messages resonated within each of us because, one way or another, we already had the structures for their words to strike and reverberate. but if someone lacks that internal architecture, if they don't already care, why should even the most illustrative articulation of community organizing matter to them? 

the question of my hour is how the human mind comes to care about something. people say we must have a personal connection or experience to something--that it's about relationship--but I am not satisfied by that answer alone. it rests on some more fundamental elements and I'd like to discover what they are.