Reading Together

 

By Frank Filocomo

Should reading always be a solitary activity?

Nadya Williams, in an article for Front Porch Republic, makes the case for a more communitarian kind of reading. 

"The function of the earliest literature," Williams explains, "was to bring people together rather than give them a delight to hoard all to themselves."

Literature, therefore, was meant, not to be consumed in isolation, but to be experienced in a communal setting.

The Homeric epics were composed and performed orally by traveling bards before there was a Greek alphabet for writing them down. Performances brought communities together for the joy of such entertainment. These occasions also provided people with shared literature to discuss presumably for days after such performances.

I'll admit, my reading is done exclusively alone. I've always found books - good books, that is - to be a sort of vehicle to internal exploration. But, perhaps they can also function as a tool to community cultivation. 

There's different ways that this can go down. There are read-alouds, which Williams does with her children daily, but I'm not sure how applicable those are to other demographics. 

I'm more intrigued by silent reading parties of the sort that Reading Rhythms hosts in NYC and elsewhere. 

To be clear, these are definitely not book clubs; they're parties. 

Everyone brings their own book (no assigned reading here) and then discusses what they've read with a perfect stranger. So, there are intervals of silent reading, followed by intervals of conversation.

Molly Young documented her experience at a Reading Rhythms event in the New York Times. I recommend giving that a read here. 

To be sure, book worms are notorious for their social introversion. When it came time for Molly to turn to a stranger and discuss what she had just read, she recalled feeling "an icy dart of trepidation" shoot through her body. 

She quickly, though, overcame this pang of anxiety and lost herself in conversation and community. 

Some, at first blush, will think this hippy-dippy or a Bushwick-bohemian fad. And, who knows, it very well may be. But, so what? The revitalization of community will inevitably require innovative thinking and resourcefulness. 

I'm tempted to sign-up for one of these "parties." At the modest fee of $20, it is appealing. 

We'll see... 

Will You Go to the Movies With Me?

By Frank Filocomo

The neighborhood cinema used to be a go-to place for date nights, friend hangouts, and various other outings. 

Today, though, the public theater has largely been supplanted by the at-home entertainment system.

What's more, some American towns have no movie theaters at all. 

In Commonplace, Jon Bishop writes that the city of Worcester, Massachusetts doesn't have a single movie theater.

Some reddit users on the r/WorcesterMA subreddit have corroborated this. 

On that forum, u/MattOLOLOL, wrote: "As to why we can't sustain a movie theater anymore, I'm not sure. I'd bet the pandemic was a big factor, but still, we're a city of over 200k."

Another user commented: "I think people just don't go out to the movies anymore." 

Whatever the case, this is profoundly sad. The movie theater, as documented in Giuseppe Tornatore's magnum opus, Cinema Paradiso, is an integral part of community life. Without it, we are relegated to our bedrooms to passively watch Netflix while phubbing on our smart phones. 

This privatization of movie watching, Bishop argues, has further eroded the American monoculture:

Along with the decline of the form itself, the collapse of moviegoing portends the continued collapse of our common culture. Going to the movies with family and friends and then talking about what you saw, perhaps over a meal, after the film was something a lot of people once enjoyed doing. And it was an activity that was truly democratic, as it was something the rich and the poor could do equally. And popular films also led to water cooler conversations.

The "water cooler conversations," that Bishop mentions, are simply harder to have today, as we are all watching different things. 

Michael Brendan Dougherty made a similar point in National Review last year:

There is a sense in which our culture has been frozen since the 1990s. The internet and paid cable TV really got to work on resegregating, silo-ing, and deconstructing what had been a common, mass popular culture. It was thrown to flinders as people bought multiple cheap TVs, and then Napster, the iPod, and the iPad tore it up in a BitTorrent. Eighty-three million viewers had once tuned in to see who shot J. R. in 1980; 76.3 million tuned in to watch Jerry Seinfeld and his friends put in the slammer in 1998.

Now, Seinfeld producer and writer of that finale, Larry David, has relitigated that episode in the finale of Curb Your Enthusiasm, which was watched by just 1.1 million people.

This is a troubling development...

While streaming Netflix and Hulu and DoorDashing food to your apartment is convenient, it is completely devoid of social connection. 

In fact, Bishop remarks that, with the advent of contactless delivery, we don't even have that brief face-to-face interaction with the person dropping off our meals. 

Everything has become decentralized, impersonal, and individualized. 

This trend, if it is to continue, will only compound our current scourge of social atomization. 

But, as I've said before, people - young people, especially - are yearning for a return to community. 

We see this in the form of hip dine-in theaters like the Nitehawk Cinema in Brooklyn (this place is always packed with zoomers), and drive-in theaters, which are still present all over the country. 

Look, I understand that the times are changing - I don't mean to sound like a hopeless reactionary - but it's perfectly reasonable to point out the tradeoffs of "progress." Expediency, for instance, comes at the price of interpersonal interactions. We've seen this with the emergence of self-checkout kiosks. 

But, while we can't go back to yesteryear, we can keep some old traditions alive. 

So... will you go to the movies with me?

Are Libraries Getting Louder?

 

By Frank Filocomo

You should be able to hear a pin drop in a library, right? The only sound ought to be the turning of a page or perhaps some faint whispers, no?

Maybe not so much anymore. It appears as though the library as a quiet place is becoming increasingly anachronistic.

Libraries are shifting their focus from places of solitary reading to community centers with a range of programming.

In Governing, Alan Ehrenhalt observes that libraries are embracing their new status as "third places."

From the article:

We are all familiar with the stereotype of the fussy librarian telling patrons to keep quiet. That tradition is disappearing. Nearly all libraries still have designated quiet rooms, but everywhere else in the building silence is no longer a requirement. People can talk as much as they want to.

At first blush, one might lament the changing character of libraries, and that is perfectly understandable. Change is always hard. But, we have to come to terms with our contemporary plague of loneliness and social isolation. If libraries can reinvent themselves and become community-hubs, then all the better. So long as they maintain reservable private study rooms, I doubt many folks will complain. 

More from the piece:

An increasing number of libraries have opened cafes to enhance local sociability. Many have placed job-training centers inside. Seattle’s main library contains a satellite City Hall. Charlotte is building an indoor-outdoor library to attract more customers year-round. The library in Athens, Ga., has become a focal point for chess tournaments...

After reading this, I began to wonder: what does my local library offer? 

I was shocked to see the wide array of programming available: writing workshops, knitting clubs, a videogame group for teens, arts and crafts, and English literacy courses for immigrants. 

How did I not know about this incredible resource that is just blocks away from where I've lived for years?

Encouraged by the fact that my local branch is active - I truly thought it was dormant, nothing more than a vacant building - I applied for a few volunteer positions there. 

So, I encourage you: look into the programs available at your local library. While it'll probably be a bit noisier than you remember, it might just be a valuable place for companionship and social connection.

The Frank Forum Turns Two!

By Frank Filocomo

When I launched The Frank Forum in March of 2023, I wanted to create a space for communitarian-minded thinkers to be able to freely engage in ideas that were heterodox and truly counter to the prevailing neoliberal consensus of autonomy-maximizing libertarianism.  

We mustn't lose sight of the fact that civil society is a prerequisite for democracy in the fullest sense of the word. That is, an atomized citizenry - much like a sick fish that loses its slime coat, the protective layer that aids in thwarting off disease and bacterial infection - will invariably fall ill and, therefore, susceptible to dangerous, meretricious ideologies and regimes. 

A society typified by robust levels of civil society, however, is far less likely to be seduced by illiberalism and flimsy utopian claims. 

American Enterprise Institute senior fellow Tim Carney makes this point in his must-read book, Alienated America: Why Some Places Thrive While Others Collapse (Harper, 2019).

The thesis is actually quite simple: civil society is, in effect, your slime coat.

So... why start a blog when this social malady of alienation has already been documented in various books?

Well, short blogs are, at least in my experience, easily digestible. Reading Bowling Alone once ten years ago isn't enough; we need to be constantly reminded of the things that plague us if we are to know how to tackle them in a meaningful way.

These posts - which are often short and without frills - are to serve as weekly reminders that we cannot just sit around and hope that things miraculously get better. We have to actually do things. 

That is why posts on here are not just descriptive; they are also normative and prescriptive. 

See: Becoming a Communitarian: A Guide of Sorts.

Two years isn't a long time, though. We have to stay on the beat. 

I am grateful to this blog's great contributors: Matthew Malec, Troy M. Olson, Laik J. Green, and others for their important pieces. 

I am also grateful to this blog's supporters such as Lynn Gibson and Jack Fowler for their promotion of this site. 

2025 is already off to a great start. Let's keep this ball rolling...

A Laugh From The Past

Credit: Pavel Danilyuk via Pexels

By Matthew J. Meyers

Growing up as a millennial in the early 2000's, I'm glad to have experienced the greatest era of comedy films ever made. Yes, I said it: EVER MADE! I say this for plenty of reasons, which I will elaborate on here. 

During this time - not just in film, but in all aspects of pop culture, such as in television, video games, and music - entertainment had a tendency to push the envelope and evoke a sense of shock for American consumers. My theory is that in the decades prior to the 2000's (specifically in the 80's and 90's) there were many musical artists, television producers, and filmmakers who have, figuratively speaking, walked the plank to controversy. Musical artists such as Judas Priest, Marilyn Manson, NWA, and many others had tested the boundaries of free speech by expressing their distaste for societal norms.

Following this was the creation of television programs in the late 1990's such as South Park, Family Guy, The Sopranos and many others. These would become some of the first shows in history to introduce mature content such as cursing, nudity, and off-color/dark humor.

I'm not implying that all of these components are necessary for great comedy, but the originality and introduction of this never-been-seen-before crudeness characterized some of the greatest comedy films ever made. 

Think about how quotable these films were: "Milk was a bad choice" Anchorman (2004), "We're the three best friends that anybody can have" The Hangover (2009), and "Mom, the meatloaf, F**k!" Wedding Crashers (2004). I don't know if its just in the nature of us millennials to cling onto a funny moment in a film and memorize it to the point where it becomes an inside joke amongst us, or if its something that sticks out about these films that keeps us remembering them for the rest of our lives. All I know is that I've never heard my parents quote the Breakfast Club or Animal House as we do with the films we grew up watching. 

That said, there's one last point that I'd like to make about the comedy films of my generation: this era of comedy fell among the last couple of good years before the wave of political correctness that has plagued our society. For a long while (estimated between around 2013-2020), it was looked down upon to make light of things that highlighted our differences (such as weight, race, gender etc.). This reluctance to break taboos, in my humble opinion, has ruined the fabric of our freedom of expression for a long time. 

In recent years, however, I've noticed that many millennials and zoomers have been opening their eyes to all of this and are taking a stand against it. Now, for better or worse, the pendulum is being swung in the complete opposite direction. This has, in turn, led to the rise of people like Andrew Tate who, in my opinion, are poisoning the minds of young men, leading them to think they have to constantly live in a state of "warrior-mentality," where life can't simply be cherished and enjoyed.   

The 2000's comedy era holds a special place in our hearts, not only because of the jokes and the satire, but because it takes us back to a simpler time in our lives. It serves as an important reminder to all of us that life shouldn't be taken so seriously no matter how hard things get. 

Nothing Like a Good Diner

 

By Frank Filocomo

There's no place like the neighborhood diner. 

Whenever I'm at my local diner drinking a hot cup of coffee, I can't help but think of Suzanne Vega's hit song, "Tom's Diner." I personally prefer her acapella rendition to the studio version. 

Some lines from the tune:

I am sitting in the morning

At the diner on the corner

I am waiting at the counter

For the man to pour the coffee

And he fills it only halfway

And before I even argue

He is looking out the window

At somebody coming in

There's something so evocative about Vega's lyrics. If you close your eyes and listen, it feels like you're there.  

The diner I frequent actually used to have little jukeboxes at every table. These were removed years ago, but man, they would have been a hit today...

Diner jukebox

I have many fond memories from the diner: first dates, hangouts with friends, celebratory meals, etc.

All good things, though, must come to an end. 

In Philanthropy Daily, Andrew Fowler laments the loss of his favorite diner, the Bridgeport Flyer, located in Milford, Connecticut. 

Fowler writes:

Countless hours had been spent in its booths, between nourishment after late night escapades to date nights to book club hangouts and catching up with old friends revisiting the hometown. There were hearty laughs, good cheer, life updates, deep conversations, heartbreaks, and even reconciliation.

While on the surface the loss of a diner might strike some as trivial, these establishments are so much more than greasy spoons where drunks go to eat at 3:00 AM; they are magical places that cultivate community and unforgettable memories. 

Think, too, of all of the cinema and shows that utilize the diner setting. 

Off the top of my head, I am reminded of Andrew Neiman, the fictional drummer in Whiplash, breaking up with his girlfriend, Nicole, in one of those classic diner booths.

Andrew breaks up with Nicole in Whiplash

Or how about when, in Beautiful Boy, Nic, a drug-addicted teen, pleads with his father, David, to give him money...

In Beautiful Boy, Nic asks his father for cash

On a lighter note, remember how central the diner was in the show Schitt's Creek?

Johnny and Moira at the diner in Schitt's Creek

On that latter example, the diner was pretty much the epicenter of the Schitt's Creek community. It's where decisions were made, difficult conversations were had, and neighborhood gossip was spread. 

And who can forget Twyla, the eccentric and affable waitress?

Twyla collecting dirty dishes in Schitt's Creek

In fact, the more I write this post, the more that comes to mind...

Do you recall when Alexis hosted a "singles week" at the diner?

Alexis hosts singles week at the diner

Anyway, I'm getting carried away here. You get the point: diners are essential third places. 

Speaking of third places, Joe Pitts and I wrote about dive bars as valuable community-hubs for National Review. Check that out here. 

See ya next week!

Challenge Coin Collection Gets Challenged By Toddler

By Troy M. Olson

I have been ruminating a lot lately on my military coin collection, a tradition from service often carried onward. The more places you go, the more people you meet and interact with, the more coins you'll have. My coins from military days both at home and abroad are now augmented by new coins from civilian life in the decade since.

Recently, my son has taken to playing with these coins which I ordinarily kept nice and tight. Dress right, dress. One of the last vestiges of the hyper discipline from another life and another time. 

But alas, a toddler has goals and he was fascinated by all of these coins and has hid them all over the place in parts unknown. The first few times I took them away and just moved them higher up on the shelf... then he'd just climb up higher to get them. Reaching a bit higher each time. Until before long I relented and gave up on trying to keep the collection from him. 

Now they're all over the place. Hidden. When I asked where they are he'd say "sorry Daddy." 

The same process played out with medals as well until only one is truly out of his reach now. But it's not my medal, it's my maternal grandfather's Good Conduct medal from the Second World War. He gave it to me when I was barely old enough to throw the ball around. 

I imagine that may have been the last medal he bothered to keep around after three kids and five long decades separated him from the events it relates to. 

Maybe he went through exactly the same process of letting go of the tangible and physical, reaching out to the eternal instead. 

****

Troy M. Olson is an Army Veteran, lawyer by training, and co-author (with Gavin Wax) of ‘The Emerging Populist Majority’ now available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Target. He is the Sergeant-at-Arms of the New York Young Republican Club and co-founder of the Veterans Caucus. He lives in New York City with his wife and son, and is the 3rd Vice Commander (“Americanism” pillar) of the first new American Legion Post in the city in years, Post 917. You can follow him on X/Twitter and Substack at @TroyMOlson

A Bipartisan Effort to Ameliorate Loneliness in the Elderly

 

By Frank Filocomo

I was never much of a fan of Senator Rick Scott (R-FL), who I always saw as a Paul Ryan-like, neoliberal politician. He was, for example, adamant about sunsetting Social Security, a wildly unpopular policy proposal that he later rescinded amid bipartisan blowback. 

For all intents and purposes, Scott's record, both during his time as Florida's Governor and Senator, is cookie-cutter GOP establishmentarian. 

That said, sometimes people surprise you. 

Scott, in partnership with Senator Tina Smith (D-MN), reintroduced the Social Engagement and Network Initiatives for Older Relief (SENIOR) Act, a bill that was endorsed by the Foundation for Social Connection, earlier this month.

According to a press release, the bill would:

• Promote programs that combat loneliness and support community integration for seniors by adding “loneliness” to the definition of “disease prevention and health promotion services” under the Older Americans Act.
• Direct the Secretary of Health and Human Services to prepare a report on the impacts of loneliness on seniors and propose solutions for identified impacts; and
• Through the report, analyze the relationship between the strength of multigenerational family units, loneliness, and seniors. 

On that second point, the SENIOR Act would require Health and Human Services Secretary, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who was narrowly confirmed by the Senate on February 13, to take the issue of loneliness and social isolation quite seriously. 

Regarding integration of the elderly into society and the power of multigenerational-connectedness, I'm reminded of this case study from Robert Putnam and Lewis Feldstein's Better Together. Putnam and Feldstein, as I recalled in an article for National Review:

...tell the story of Experience Corps, a program launched in 1996 that fostered intergenerational connection by bringing elderly volunteers to elementary schools to tutor reading and math. This experimental program was, in so many ways, a win-win: Students, who often felt insignificant or even dumb, learned that “they themselves are worth paying attention to,” and the elderly, retired and feeling as though they no longer served a purpose in society, proved that they still had so much to offer, in the forms of wisdom, guidance, and community.

These are the kinds of initiatives that we ought to be advocating for.  

And, between Interior Secretary Doug Burgum (Confirmed January 30), who has been an outspoken advocate for walkable cities, wherein humans are prioritized over cars; HHS Secretary RFK JR. (Confirmed February 13), who would, if the SENIOR Act were to pass, have to release a report on the impact of loneliness on the elderly; and Dr. Janette Nesheiwat (Not yet confirmed as Surgeon General), who, in an article about her experience treating patients during the pandemic, wrote, "Avoiding family, friends and loved ones was probably one of the most negligent measures forced upon Americans," a powerful team ready to promote social connection appears to be taking shape.

Fingers crossed... 

Trump's Surgeon General Must Continue the Fight Against Loneliness

 

By Frank Filocomo

The office of the U.S. Surgeon General is now vacant. 

Dr. Vivek Murthy - who served under Presidents Barack Obama, Donald Trump, and Joe Biden - has left his post as Surgeon General. 

His time there, however, has been hugely consequential. 

Murthy's leadership and passion for the job will be hard to match. 

Through his and his team's research - especially the now famous 2023 report declaring a national loneliness epidemic - Murthy has reminded the American people of the importance of social connection.

Many of you will remember this line from the aforementioned report: "The mortality impact of being socially disconnected is similar to that caused by smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day..." To my surprise, even lay people, who are largely disconnected from politics, recall something about this.

This report unleashed an avalanche of articles on the subject of loneliness and social isolation. While I started writing about communitarianism and civil society in 2022, Murthy's report the following year spurred me into action; I became almost obsessive about the problem, consuming as much literature about the harrowing effects of loneliness on individuals and communities as I could.

With Murthy now gone, it is imperative that his successor continues to sound the alarms on the loneliness epidemic.  

Last year, then President-elect Trump nominated Dr. Janette Nesheiwat, a Fox News contributor and medical director at CityMD, to serve as the new U.S. Surgeon General. 

Dr. Janette Nesheiwat

I don't know much about Nesheiwat, but after conducting some light research, I am somewhat encouraged. It appears that she was rather outspoken about the adverse effects of lockdowns during the Covid-19 pandemic. It looks, too, as though she has been focused on the nation's mental health epidemic. 

Here is Dr. Marc Seigel discussing Nesheiwat's nomination on Laura Ingraham's show in November of last year. 

One thing that they both said about Nesheiwat is that she, like Murthy, has the unique ability to communicate complex problems in layman's terms. "She truly is an amazing communicator," Ingraham remarked, "making complex issues understandable without sounding like she's lecturing us."

Nesheiwat must continue in Murthy's footsteps and champion the cause of social connection. 

Before I sign off, I highly recommend reading Murthy's reflection on his time as Surgeon General, My Parting Prescription for America, here. 

Can Coffee Shops Save America?

 

By Frank Filocomo

I have written before about the communitarian nature of coffee shops, but the salience of these little civic places bears repeating. 

Cafes are, in many ways, community hubs that are integral to the robustness of civil society. 

In my neighborhood, there is a cafe practically on every block. Some are, of course, more vibrant than others. While I can think of a few shops that are rather sterile and lacking in adequate seating, others are often crowded and bustling with conversation. 

In Front Porch Republic - a publication that is easily becoming one of my favorites - Dennis Uhlman writes about the liveliness of his local coffee shop in Columbia, South Carolina:

Baptist pastors, Presbyterian pastors, engineering students, and art students learn each other’s names in a way that would be unlikely in any other sort of social arrangement.

Cafes, much like the one that Uhlman frequents, are third places. These are - as defined by Ray Oldenburg, who coined the term - informal gathering places, known for their low barriers to entry. Because of the low barrier to entry, third places have a leveling effect. That is, anyone from any profession or socio-economic status is welcome. 

This social-leveling component is particularly important. As Uhlman notes, America, from its conception, has been an amalgam of different peoples with different histories. While there is merit in pluralism, it also presents a pernicious problem: lack of social cohesion. This is, in part, ameliorated by third places. Modern day coffee shops, like the New England taverns of colonial America, "break down social barriers and bring different types of people together."

Aside from facilitating social and economic-connectedness, Uhlman writes of the many other benefits of coffee shops, such as their role in reducing political polarization. I encourage you to read the piece here. 

Safe Communities Are Healthy Communities

By Frank Filocomo

People, before they can participate in civic life, must first feel safe. 

In high-crime municipalities, citizens often do not have the leisure of becoming more engaged in their communities. Rather, they focus on survival. 

Robert Steuteville, in an article for Public Square, writes that "people don’t linger in places where their hair stands on the back of their necks." One's environment must be conducive to civil society. For the article, he interviewed urban planner Ray Gindroz who remarked that "...if people feel lost or trapped within a public space, unable to see or find a quick way out, they will avoid it."

I recently read Evicted by Matthew Desmond, a powerful book that follows the lives of poverty-stricken tenants in Milwaukee. The families that Desmond follows are simply in no position to think about joining book clubs or political campaigns; they are bogged down by, what my old NYU professor used to call, "the burden of necessity."  That is, the majority of their time and energy is solely focused on finding food and shelter. 

Luckily, though, there are amazing people in this world like Gindroz, who have dedicated their lives to making communities safer. You can read Gindroz's seven qualities of safe spaces here. 

I was struck by quality #1: Human presence:

People in a public space must feel the presence of other people in the space and in the buildings surrounding the space. The sense that we are not alone and are being observed helps us to behave properly and feel safe. Windows are symbols of that presence, whether people are behind them or not. Mixed-use buildings help promote 24-hour presence.

What do you know... it turns out we do actually need each other.