There’s an interesting discussion at Imagining Australia on a paper [pdf file] Andrew Leigh has written looking at issues of trust with regard to immigration and community relations.
The question of trust is central to a lot of social scientific literature - for instance, on the efficacy of economic transactions, in Criminology and Crime Prevention studies, and very prominently with regard to social capital (with big implications for welfare policy and social policy more generally - not to mention urban planning and Architecture).
Andrew wrote in the Fin Review:
In places where people trust one another, institutions, markets and societies seem to work better. Trusting societies have more effective bureaucracies, schools that function more efficiently, less corruption, and faster growth. Trust acts as a kind of “social glue” that enables business and communities to operate more effectively. For these reasons, social capital, once solely the domain of sociologists, has increasingly attracted attention from economists.
I’m inclined to think that asking a survey question such as “Generally speaking, you can’t be too careful in dealing with most Australians” (from an Edith Cowan study - Andrew didn’t design the study, he’s re-analysed the data) is not fine-grained enough to capture the everyday quality of trusting those with whom you interact. It’s also somewhat ambiguous - in that an immigrant might assume that “Australians” refers to Anglos, or people who’ve been here longer. Note that in these studies, we’re talking about people you don’t know, or people with whom you have an (initially at least) instrumental relationship.
In comments at Andrew’s place, Andrew Norton wrote (in part):
Though I am not sure to what extent these questions get at what we need to be concerned about. Would I leave my front door unlocked? I don’t trust the people in my area enough for that. But do I feel frightened in the street, believe local officials are corrupt, or that I will be ripped off in the shops? No, I don’t.
And I responded (in part):
For instance, where I live (New Farm in Brisbane), I most certainly wouldn’t leave my door unlocked. I did once, and someone came in while I was in my study and nicked my backpack from the hall. Conversely, another junkie tried to break into my garage and was chased away by neighbours. On the traditional indices, the fact that most of us neighbours chat to each other, sometimes socialise, and watch out for each other would place us very high on the trust scale. But there are people on the streets (sometimes mentally ill homeless people) whom I’d cross the road to avoid. Then, the suburb has a nice community feel and I know and chat to local shopkeepers, waitresses etc.
I’d be very interested in readers’ experiences of everyday and routine interactions and the question of trust.
I don’t have relevant Australian figures, but Michael Moore’s “Bowling for Columbine”, among other sources, quoted statistics that showed that while incidences of violent crime had fallen by 87% over the last 10 years, the media reporting of violent crime had increased by over 200%.
I know that quoting stats from MM isn’t the most reliable way to go about proving a point, and a grain of salt is being taken liberally with the figures above, but even so I suspect that much of our collective distrust is a result of paradigms such as the one above.
Our collective conciousness as a society is permeated with the feeling that “the world’s going all bad, bring back the good old days, thing aren’t like what they were”, while our individual conciousness is overwhelmingly positive. We think we’re richer, healthier and happier than we were, and the elections of 2001 and 2004 would seem to suggest we think we’re safer than we might otherwise be as well.
Politically, this produces the politics of the lowest common denominator. An appeal to selfishness and the desire to protect individual position (because its never been so good), ie the interest rates scare at the last election. But it also produces a lot of bullshit when it comes to law and order (every Labor government).
As individuals we know better - as a society we decline to change.
On the substance of the post - would I lock my door at night? Well, I probably wouldn’t worry too much about it, if I was in bed and realised the back door was open I woudln’t bother to get out of bed again to lock it. Would I say in open conversation, hey, security’s fine, why bother locking your back door? Not at all.
I don’t know if this is appropriate or not, but I wonder also at gender implications around this ‘trust’? My partner works away a lot and when he’s not home I let the dog sleep in my room, plus I have a pair of shoes, my mobile phone, my wallet and keys beside my bed. Just in case. Lots of the women I know whose partners also work in the same industry as Mr.Kate, and spend a lot of time away as well, have similar routines and ‘escape plans’ in case someone breaks in. So in that way I’m not very trusting at all, but I reckon that’s got a lot to do with being a woman and feeling unsafe when alone.
Do men feel the same? Most of the guys I know don’t have quite the same ‘fear’; they don’t think someone will break in and try to rape/murder them, they feel they could beat off an attacker, etc etc.
That said, I wouldn’t say I feel terribly unsafe at all in this upper-middle-class suburb of Perth — Claremont — beyond that constant low-level fear of being attacked.
However, there was a series of murders here in the 90s, and I certainly wouldn’t wander around the streets here at night. It’s dark and there aren’t many streetlights and I always think about the serial killer and freak myself right out… even just walking to the shop after dark makes me nervous.
On the other hand, I do tend to trust people in normal day-to-day interactions, ie, shopkeepers and so on… I genuinely think most people aren’t out to con you or rip you off.
Rambling a bir, but hopefully you’ll see my point…
That’s very true, Kate. There’s a big difference in how men and women experience being out alone in public space. My former (female) flatmate used to feel reasonably comfortable walking back along Brunswick St late at night from the Valley when she’d been out, because there are lots of people on the street and lots of open businesses into which one could make a quick retreat. That’s good thinking, because all the criminological literature suggests you are much safer on an inner city street with lots of people around and safe places to retreat to if you do feel threatened than on a dark suburban street late at night.
Having said that, she, and an ex-g/f of mine who lives in the same area, did use to get guys in cars seeking to solicit prostitution services from them (Brunswick St is sex walker/worker central).
I also tend to cross the road if I’m walking at night and a lone woman is walking on the same side, to signal that I’m not a threat to her. Lots of female friends have reported how disturbing it is to be walking home late at night and worry about whether a guy walking behind them is just coincidentally walking the same way, or is a psycho-stalker.
We tend to pick up on signals - ie does the person have a briefcase and is thus coming home from work or a shopping bag and is thus a local. Most of these signals relate to status (and gender and race). Many people try to avoid Aboriginal people on the streets. Though again, the worst that’s going to happen is that you’ll be asked for money. In inner city areas, violence is largely “rational”/motivated or at least contained within particular subcultures rather than random.
I’m also interested in people’s experiences of interaction with others in public and in shops and so on, and with neighbours in their localities.
Luke, Moore’s figures and their derivation are questionable but there’s only a weak correlation between a fall in crime and a fall in perceived threat. Crime prevention programmes now explicitly recognise this, and are often directed to reducing fear of crime rather than crime as such. Causation is a tricky one, but political and media representations no doubt contribute, as do a variety of social changes (ie people not knowing their neighbours, living in detached houses in the burbs behind high walls). It’s a subset of the broader phenomenon of the “risk society” where all of us factor risk of crime, and indeed feeling safe, into our everyday patterns.
However, there is also no doubt that while crime rates have fallen over the last 15 years, they remain much higher than in the 50s. The thing is that the period from WW2 (crime drops markedly during wars) to the late 60s is probably exceptional. People lived with much higher rates of crime and public disorder in the West in the late 19th century for instance, than in the mid-20th century.
I live in a cul-de-sac with 11 houses in sleepy Canberra, and we chat, feed each other’s cats, share excess veggies in summer, etc. We also have a retired one man neighbourhood watch service.
Mind you someone organised five mates to beat the crap outta their ex’s new partner in our suburb a couple of weeks ago - but that was targetted, not random violence.
The first time I went out with the women from my mother’s group and wanted to walk the ten minutes home they were horrified and wouldn’t let me, despite my protestations that I’d spent years staggering drunkenly up the back streets of Newtown without incident.
Well, I felt much safer living in Newtown in Sydney than I do living in Claremont in Perth for exactly that reason — lots of people around, shops open late at night etc.
My own particular bias is against teenage boys, particularly in groups. I tend to do anything to avoid them… (sorry boys…)
As for my neighbours, they’re older people or married families, friendly but not overly so. I trust them in that they’re well-off family types who seem nice enough. It’s that sort of ‘hood — big houses, expensive cars, definitely affluent. (We chose to live here because of a) proximity to city, b) proximity to beach. We’d have preferred Subiaco, which is a little more urban, but as we have a dog, we needed a decent yard as well.)
Perth may not feel as ’safe’ to me as Sydney, but it’s definitely friendlier. People are chattier, interactions in shops and cafes take longer (this can be annoying as it means service is rather casual here…). Plus there’s a greater sense of community in that people know each other. You run into people you know quite often. When you do meet people they’re always very keen to involve you in things — drinks, BBQs etc.
I’ve only started to learn how to trust. A long, winding, and totally satisfying road, but for the most part, I still have my guard up.
Just a little thing about how feelings of trust can be affected by one’s experiences - in 2002, my partner and I were mugged at Redfern train station, and since then I have been very wary of people asking me questions (eg for the time, or a direction somewhere) in the street. Whenever someone asks me something, I always keep them in view - I won’t turn away from them. I’m also much more aware of my surroundings - eg people who might be following - and after being mugged I thought “yes, I’ll trust my instincts in these things”.
While it was a horrible experience, and I don’t recommend getting mugged to anyone, a good outcome was that I’m much more aware of my surroundings here in inner Sydney, which you have to be - and I think I wasn’t properly aware of my surroundings before I was mugged.
I live near Kings Cross in a block of units with a “security door” (just a door to the block, really), and I feel much more secure with that than with just a usual front door to the world - which is interesting. I don’t feel unsafe walking around Kings Cross - but there are little streets I don’t walk down.
It’s certainly true that life events can make us more wary. It’s also true that some others can make us less afraid.
I suppose my distrust was initially culturally motivated. My parents were trying to scare me away from white folk (Filipinos living in Brisbane), but if anything, it taught me not to trust their word. Not only because it was blatantly racist, but because it was a load bollocks.
I was also raped by an ex-boyfriend in his unit in Hamilton. He lived in a fully secure penthouse with a couple of housemates and was surrounded by other units and homes. Lights were on and I could see people were moving around in their cosy little houses, but nobody moved when I screamed for help.
I have serious trust issues, but I smile when I remember being able to leave the door unlocked and the car windows open with music blaring out of it — the soundtrack and background to my childhood before it went pear-shaped.
Yes, BourbonBird, I read about your experiences on your blog. I admire you for being so open about it. I once gave a lecture on gender and crime and was talking about rape, and an older female student piped up to say that she’d been raped. I think people didn’t know how to deal with it, but I thought of an article by one of my favourite writers, Joan Didion, who argued that victims of sexual assault are damaged by being silenced by social convention too.
I don’t want to address this just to you, and I hope it doesn’t sound trite, but despite things that have happened to me which have lessened my desire to trust, I’ve found that openness to people really pays off. You just need to cut your losses when it’s betrayed too often.
I used to be extremely shy - which held me back in a lot of areas - and over the years that changed. One strange milestone for me was being extremely ill last year which gave me quite a different perspective on things. I’ve also found it extremely liberating to reflect on the insight that almost nothing is as bad as you might anticipate it being.
Trying not to sound too emo or Oprah - or to usurp Miss Piss’ promised agony aunt blog column.
BourbonBird, I’m sorry to hear that happened to you.
BB,
That’s fucked, what happened to you. Good on you for boxing on since.
I find it a bit odd to talk of “trusting” society or people I have never met, I mean, I know we do but my initial reponse to the word is more personal. Anyway, an aside.
A few unrelated (or not) things come to mind. In Moscow, there aren’t many official taxis and those that are, are expensive. The done thing — and I assume this dates back to Soviet days when petrol etc was tough to come by and people have to jerry rig their social relations to maximise opportunities — is to flag down a random car, agree a price and go. I initially baulked at the idea because essentially it is hitch hiking which I would never,ever, ever, ever, ever do here. But it is amazing how you quickly you can ditch your principles when youre pissed, its 2.30am, its 20 below and the metro has closed. Vitually all the drivers who picked you up were men, which ratchets up the what-were-you-thinking-are-you-insane factor and I still haven’t told my mum. But it was common practice, it was accepted and despite dozens of these trips I only ever had one situation which was dodgy and even that was far more comical than threatening. I would never do it here though, and of course Aussie drivers wouldnt stop. Its a culture thing, yo.
Also, in my position as Professional Killjoy Skeptic I think people are far too trusting in many situations. People can be fooled and fool themsleves so easily, the powers of the minds to create patterns and meaning where objectively there is none is truly awesome. People believe what they see on A Current Affair about the latest cancer quackery or diet pills. They forward on the most ridculous urban myth chain letters.They are disinclined to believe there as many hustlers in the world than there are. They accept at face value things which take about five seconds of critical thought to bust apart. And when I say “them” I really mean “I”. I’m a very trusting person which can often translate to gullibility and so as a defence the last couple of years have been an exercise for me in becoming more aware, more skpetical and less “trusting” in that sense.
While I wouldn’t wish whatever’s happened to me on anybody, it is something I’ve made positive in my life. Trust is something I take very seriously these days, and someone who had it, had it taken away, and as someone who abused it in several crucial times in my life.
Sorry I made it such an individual thing, but the trust I gave, lost, and abused has affected the way I deal with every single person I come across, personally or otherwise. It partly describes my position (or my perception of my position) in society.
There’s no reason at all for you to say sorry, BourbonBird.
Cheers, Mark.
Both BourbonBird and Amanda raise interesting points about the sometimes arbitary way in which trust can or cannot be rewarded.
Twice I’ve regarded my trust as seriously betrayed, and that was by people I thought I knew and was prepared to trust. However in both cases it was only financial damage and not a direct threat to my person.
Whereas a couple of other times I found myself in very dodgy places (eg: third dens of vice in the wee small hours) with things very turning nasty, only to be safely extricated by complete strangers I had to trust.
As to neighbourhood cultures, as a long time inner city denzien - and self-confident and solidly built (at least around the middle) white male - in various cities, I’ve never felt threatened in any of them the way I would at a lonely outer suburban railway station when a bunch of pissed and testosterone-amped louts spills out onto the platform.
But as Sachmo points out, it’s always worth keeping a weather eye on the street dynamics around you. A good tip when travelling through high-mugging risk regions, is to pack a wallet with nothing it but a few bucks poking out, so if you get bailed up toss the wallet. They’ll pretty much always go after that not you, providing some “get the fuck out of there” time.
However I also like the fact that in inner city villages, the trust can go both ways in little ways, like the corner shop giving you ciggies on tick or the local hardware store lending you a ladder ‘cos you locked your keys inside.
Ooh, I see gravatars are back. But can you trust someone who won’t put their face (or name) to their comment?
I wouldn’t.
BourbonBird, you have the best tattoo!
I’m inclined to agree, Kim. And Latin tattoos are the excellentness!
I think there are numerous ways of trusting. The trust I have in my partner not to go off and have sex with another woman is different to the trust I have that the lady at the corner shop won’t rip me off at the till.
As for trusting, Kim and I both sport gravatars which are excellent likenesses, so you can trust both of us, of course.
Thanks! I dig my tatt, too, but the questions about it have been odd.
Dr Pathologist at work: ‘So who’s Veni, Vidi and Vicki?’
…
Classical learning needs a revival!
A belated response to Kate’s point. In the US, surveys that pooled data from the 1970s to the 1990s found women were less trusting than men. So I tested this for Australia, and found no gender differences. This puzzled me, so I went to the US data, and found that if you only used 1990s figures, there’s no gender trust gap in the US either.
I find this interesting, esp as I have another paper showing that there’s no gender voting difference between men and women any longer. Doesn’t say much for the Mars & Venus view of the world….
As a cyclist, I dont ‘trust’ other traffic. Experience has taught me this and several scars remind me not to.
Mark, you are the first person I have seen describe crossing to the other side of the street to not scare someone. I used to think I was being over the top for doing so.
dj, it was pointed out to me that it was a good idea in the early 90s by a number of female friends. I listened.