Roads and Bridges

Meg Giordano

I was recently reading a text about medieval life, and the book opened with a discussion of roads and bridges. This struck me as interesting—the author only minimally introduced the topic, and did not say too much about their choice to begin their study specifically there. However it came about, it was fascinating to me to think about human life as foundationally shaped by the things that join or separate us. The author’s first paragraph observes: “From the state and use made of its roads, the condition of a community can be judged.” Maybe that is an overstatement, but it seemed to me at the very least thought provoking. Interesting points the author makes that caught my attention:

• When the famous Roman system of roads was neglected, communities migrated and gathered in fortified cities, protected by the powerful and wealthy whose lands those were.
• In later years, when the world opened up again, maintenance of roads and bridges between cities became a civic matter of genuine importance. The rich and powerful were often expected to keep up the roads in their own lands, and neglect was an indictable offense. On the other hand, it was also considered an act of charity and merit for anyone to contribute to this work. Whether by law or by moral impulse, attention to roads and bridges requires a person to think of places and people outside of one’s own world and to value the varying contributions that connectedness to them makes.

Of course, the literal presence and importance of roads and bridges is still relevant today, but the author’s connecting these to social thought and ways of doing life together prompted me wondering what other things are like this in our lives.

What are the social structures that facilitate connectedness of varying kinds, that, when missing or neglected, cause us to have to retreat into fortified enclaves? Just brainstorming, but what comes to mind is first of all language. Definitely literal language, which is of course the ground of verbal communication at all. Further, however, I think of varying kinds of vernacular: generational, regional, professional, cultural, religious, political, etc. Groups have their own uses of specific terms, which can serve helpfully as shorthand among themselves, but also can shape (or limit) the thoughts they have on the subjects they use them for. I also think of nonverbal language: body language and physical practices in social settings. We could also go on to think of aesthetic and rhetorical aspects of language—what it is that makes some articulation beautiful, clear, compelling, humorous, provocative, insightful, etc. If we think of these forms of language as roads and bridges, what is their current state? Do we plan our world of communication with open roads of commerce connecting people in their varying ways of life? Are we sensitive to genuine barriers, and strategically plan bridges where they are most needed? If these are not present, or neglected, whose responsibility is it to build them?  

This thought experiment could go far and wide. What other aspects of life can be thought of as roads and bridges? It’s worth pausing and thinking about cultural, political, civic, technological, artistic, economic, etc., experiences that function both as contexts for our own lives and as “in-between-us” realities.

Once we identify these, and think about their importance to our individual and collective flourishing, how do we then view our own relationship to them? Currently, what is our contribution to them—to their existence, their maintenance, their recovery if neglected? Are they neglected? Are we, in terms of that aspect of life, functioning in fortified enclaves, protecting ourselves against harms of being misunderstood, misjudged, or even just inconvenienced? Is ‘commerce’ between people groups cut off, such that we only exchange ideas, skills, experiences with essentially our neighbors? In what ways do we understand those in charge—those in positions of influence or power—to be responsible for these social structures of connectivity? What would it mean to neglect them, or even outright damage or vandalize them? What would it mean to contribute to them as an act of social charity—i.e., out of love for others, both in terms of their own flourishing and in terms of how their lives interweave with ours?

So, what comes to your mind? What are the roads and bridges in your world that most catch your eye? Are they operating well or are they neglected? Who is contributing to their current condition, and how does that condition affect us?

(The text I was reading is: Everyday Life of Medieval Travellers, by Marjorie Rowling.)