I’m kind of interested in the Broken Windows Theory – not necessarily in the overall (and controversial lately) realm of policing – but as we can apply it to other aspects of our lives. It’s only natural that blatantly not caring about the little things in what we do leads to a lackluster approach to the rest of life.
The internet tells me that “the broken windows theory is a criminological theory that states that visible signs of crime, anti-social behavior, and civil disorder create an urban environment that encourages further crime and disorder.” It was used to pretty good effect in New York City in the 90’s, where the police started paying attention to the little things. They weren’t content with turning a blind eye to minor criminal behavior, and it seemed to work for them.
And I think it makes sense in some respects – but not just in policing. When you’re in a place that’s unkempt and trashed, you get the sense that it doesn’t really matter if you add to the disarray. “Apparently, no one around here cares, so I don’t have to care either.”
If you’ve read some of my previous stuff, you might also know I’m big on the fact of human depravity. I believe that at heart, even the best of us are prone to cut corners, and not everyone can be counted among the “best of us” in the first place. So of course when people see an opening, they’ll take it. This isn’t just about broken windows. It’s about everything. When you’re in an environment that doesn’t hold people accountable for the smallest actions, you’ll find that the attitude permeates into the largest.
And so this leads me to what’s had me thinking about this lately.
On the military base on which I work, there are several parking lots. Some are busier than others, and the worst is probably that of the Base Exchange. It’s at the heart of the base and is surrounded by several buildings which house daily work centers. It’s also just down the hill from two major facilities whose parking lots are always packed, so of course people park by the exchange and spend the day at work up the hill.
And this is just how it is. There used to be a two-hour limit in the lot, but they got rid of that long ago. Still, for the longest time, people generally parked reasonably. There were a couple of spots on the ends of the rows where they weren’t supposed to park (but still did) and quite often the security forces would ticket people in those spots.
But within the past couple of months, people have started to push the limits. Now they not only park on the ends, they’re parking by the entrances. They’re parking along any curbs they can, even if it only leaves barely a car’s-width of space to pass. On my way home today I saw three cars parked in an area painted specifically for no parking, and I’m seeing people even park in drop-off pullouts.
There don’t appear to be any consequences anymore, so people are allowed to do what they want.
And it’s a small thing. Absolutely. Somewhere along the lines of me sitting on my front porch telling you all to get off my lawn. But I think the attitude that it doesn’t matter can permeate a group of people quite easily. Maybe a little thing like parking can point to something bigger. I walked right past a police vehicle today as he was driving past a row of illegally parked cars. The man behind the wheel didn’t seem to care. Or maybe his boss doesn’t care, or his boss’s boss. Maybe the base’s Commander doesn’t care. And this is where it’s getting serious. Because maybe the guy working on that multi-million-dollar piece of equipment doesn’t care. Maybe he’d rather be texting. Maybe he’s thinking he needs another day off (something I may talk about some other day).
His head’s not in it, and nobody seems to care.
But maybe it matters.
I’ll leave you with this. In the gospel written by Luke, Jesus tells a story about a dishonest manager. There’s a line in it that works here: “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much.”
Something to think about.