I’ve been looking into crowds and mobs, seeking to identify elements common to positive large-group experiences. This week, I picked up Barbara Ehrenreich’s “Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy,” looking for answers.
During truly ecstatic events, participants have the sensation of merging with the group, becoming part of a larger whole, and having the “experience of self-loss in the crowd.” With the temporary loss of individual identity comes the temporary loss of individual responsibility. Inhibitions are lowered and moral judgement may be impaired, since “the crowd” acts as one force. This explains how ordinary, generally moral people can riot, and how straight-laced conservatives can let it all hang out at Mardi Gras. (Yes, alcohol plays a role, too, accelerating the lowering of inhibitions and an increased sense of connection with others.)
Ehrenreich observes that instances of collective ecstasy are very much non-hierarchical:
Hierarchy, by its nature, establishes boundaries between people — who can go where, who can approach whom, who is welcome, and who is not. Festivity breaks the boundaries down. …
While hierarchy is about exclusion, festivity generates inclusiveness. The music invites everyone to dance; shared food briefly undermines the privilege of class. … At the height of the festivity, we step out of our assigned roles and statuses — of gender, ethnicity, tribe, and rank — and into a brief utopia defined by egalitarianism, creativity, and mutual love.
Ehrenreich refers to our modern era as the “postfestive” era, since centuries of hierarchical civilization have all but eliminated the class-undermining expressions of participatory joy that threaten it.
Given that, how can we design experiences of collective joy for a postfestive people?