Moving Porn

[Meta disclaimer: When I look back at some of the posts I've written that I think I got wrong, they're often in the category of what I'd call "therapy posts" - trying to universalise or rationalise some thought process of my own as a general life lesson, especially if I'm trying to convince myself that my actions make sense. I resolved at some point to try to stop writing those. I don't think this is one, but I'm not always a good judge of these matters, at least at the time.]

As Covid worries seem to fade into the rearview mirror, and life slowly gets back to normal, I find myself reflecting on the the strange way that being at home for a long period of time strongly exacerbated the idea of moving porn. Not as in emotionally touching depictions of sexual acts, but the fantasy, sometimes followed through on, that a better life awaits if only we move to somewhere else. 

This is always a hard one for me to think about. I don't want to say that everyone should just stay where they are. It is obviously, trivially false that every place is as good as every other place. So there really are changes in life happiness to be had for certain people in moving somewhere else. Indeed, I've had at least one myself, that I'm very glad about. 

In my case, after enough months of roaming around the same apartment, I had a strong desire to just get out. Maybe temporarily, but probably permanently. I started writing this post back when these feelings were still there fairly strongly, but already subsiding. From the number of stories about this, I don't think I was alone in this. Covid seemed to really send this urge into overdrive among a certain class of aspirational mobile white collar worker. 

There are two stories that can be written about this. The first, and most discussed, is the role of remote work. Covid made lots of educated people's jobs suddenly remote, so they could now move anywhere, at least temporarily. The big obstacle to moving is generally the coordination aspect - a city you want to live in, where you know people, where you can get a good job, where your husband or wife can also get a good job. Take away two of those conditional statements, and the choice set gets a lot bigger. 

But the second part is the one that I think is more interesting. The professional class were also, as a rule, more likely to comply with lockdowns and general social distancing. The net effect was a whole lot of people who hadn't actually spent any time in person with many (or any) of their friends or relatives, for maybe a year at a stretch. The effect of this was to enormously crank up the background sense of ennui and isolation that seems to be a large part of modernity. 

I remember this being one of the stranger aspects of educated Americans when I first moved here. If you grow up in Europe or South America or Asia, you are generally from somewhere. Your sense of place is typically a city. Whereas I'd meet quite a number of Americans whose story was something like "Well, I was born in Cleveland, and lived there for the first two years, then I was in Chicago until age 8, then we moved to Phoenix, then I went to college in Atlanta...". The typical educated American, by the time they reach graduate school, might be on their fourth set of friends, between high school, college, and first work stretch. Their parents may or may not still be living in the place where they were when they were born. 

In other words, the background feeling for a lot of people in the educated classes is already a vague sense of social isolation. Your friends, even your good friends, might pack up and move in a year or two's time. You have to keep investing in new friendships in order to maintain a steady state inventory. 

I can only guess, but I think this feeling is rather widespread, at least to a certain extent. But if it is, then moving cities to try to escape the sense of ennui you've developed is a very high risk strategy. You feel isolated and unhappy because you don't have enough close friends and family. It might indeed be hard to make friends where you are. But when you move to somewhere new, you go back to square one. Rather like changing lines in the customs queue at the airport, you'd better hope the new one is faster, because you start out at the back. 

I don't know how to balance out these two stories in terms of their prevalence. The first one is just a good news story - people can finally leave San Francisco (a city that is desperate to disprove the Lebowski dictum that the bums always lose) and go somewhere less shambolic, while still keeping their tech job. The latter is much less obvious. If your problem was that being rootless made you unhappy, digging up what shallow roots you currently have is not obviously going to help matters. Ironically, it resembles San Francisco's way of dealing with the homeless - the ameliorative steps to solve the current problem in fact just lead to the problem getting worse.  

In terms of telling these two versions apart, one aspect that is striking is the sense of where all these newly mobile people actually wanted to go. It tended to be the same places. Austin, Miami, or sometimes Nashville.

Don't get me wrong, I like all these cities! But still, it's striking that these form such a focal point for a large number of people who are all starting somewhere quite different. To hazard a guess, the main linking factor seems to be "better weather, some fun nightlife, increasingly trendy so my friends won't look at me too weirdly, but still cheaper than NY, SF, or Boston." They are always cities that are described as fun. Which seems to be a shorthand for sociable and full of interesting people to hang out with.

But if the problem you faced in Dallas or wherever is that you weren't able to meet people to hang out with, how exactly do you plan to find your fun circle of friends once you get to Austin? I'm not saying it's impossible. I'm just saying that most of the credible plans you would implement to solve this problem in Austin could also have been implemented to some extent in Dallas. 

The only exception to this rule is if the place you're moving to already has more old friends and relatives in it than the place you're at (and they're likely to stay there). To me, I think this is generally the only good reason to move to a place to escape ennui. 

The fact that all these people wanted to move to the same places tends to imply that this wasn't what was at stake. Maybe Austin helped a ton of people suddenly solve the coordination problem of where to live at the same time. But I don't think that's what's going on.  

If I'm right (and I'm not sure I am), I suspect a bunch of these people are going to wind up disappointed.

How can one tell if this seems like a credible description of one's mindset? I suspect that one telling aspect is the question of how specific and detailed are the ideas of what exactly you plan to do differently when you get to Austin. It's a Saturday. You're in your somewhat larger house, now that you don't live in the Mission any more. You've got the whole day ahead of you. What are you going to do that you can't do in San Francisco? Next day is Sunday. Same question. Then the weekend after. And so on.

I have a feeling that if you don't have a clear answer to that question, you are probably going to find that Austin does not make you as happy as you imagine. 

I would be delighted to be wrong. Austin, Miami and Nashville are all in fact cool cities. I hope everyone who moved there finds it awesome, and pities us saps that stayed put. But I can't help but wonder about the Last Psychiatrist's description of some of how change is often not really change at all: 

The unconscious doesn't care about happiness, or sadness, or gifts, or bullets.  It has one single goal, protect the ego, protect status quo.  Do not change and you will not die.  It will allow you to go to college across the country to escape your parents, but turn up the volume of their pre-recorded soundbites when you get there.  It will trick you into thinking you're making a huge life change, moving to this new city or marrying that great guy, even as everyone else around you can see what you can't, that Boulder is exactly like Oakland and he is just like the last guys.

Lest this all sound like meandering, there is a concrete prediction that can be made here. If I'm right, I expect the number of relocations to drop fairly quickly as life gets back to normal. If you haven't packed up and moved by now, I'll guess that you're not going to. Because as people actually start hanging out with their friends again, they'll slowly remember that the place they're in isn't actually as bad as it seemed in April 2020 when it felt like we were going to be locked up forever.

If you're still on the fence, take advantage of the warm weather to invite all your friends over for a party first. It did me a world of good.