Why we need others to develop our full sense of self

In an article published a couple of weeks ago in this newspaper, I invited readers to reflect on the relational nature of human beings. Each of us is certainly an ‘individual substance of a rational nature’, according to Boethius’s well-known definition, but we are not merely that. Our person takes shape by virtue of our relationships with others; we need others to fully develop our ‘substance’; in short, it is in relationships that we find the prime setting for the fulfilment of our subjectivity. That is why we should cherish them.

As Pierpaolo Donati has sought to demonstrate in a body of work spanning some fifty years now, it is not easy to perceive our relationships; it is even more difficult to observe ourselves and others in terms of the relationships that bind us. Yet these relationships do exist; they possess a specificity that cannot be reduced to that of the terms from which they are composed, nor to their sum; they are the ‘third element’ that emerges and exerts an influence upon them. To give an example, a relationship between a couple is certainly the relationship that exists between two people; however, it does not belong to either of them taken individually; it is something that emerges from and upon them, with all that such an emergence implies in terms of autonomy, unpredictability, novelty and spontaneity. No one can say a priori what will actually arise from that relationship; and these effects will certainly affect both the people involved in the relationship and other social relationships. Ultimately, everything will depend on the care that the two partners put into their relationship—or, to put it plainly, on the work they are able to do on it. We are therefore at the opposite pole to any form of mechanistic thinking, to any claim that society can be reduced to a field of physical forces, but also to the claim that social reality does not exist and that only individuals exist. From a relational perspective, social facts are not ‘things’, as Durkheim believed, nor are they so evanescent as to ultimately dissolve into the reality of the acting subject, as the only true ‘reality’ worthy of the name; rather, we are dealing with a ‘reality sui generis’, which, using Pierpaolo Donati’s terminology, we might define as ‘an emerging phenomenon of interacting subjects’. As the example of a couple’s relationship teaches us, we are dealing with a reality that certainly depends on individuals, since it is they who have chosen to live as a ‘couple’; yet as such – that is, as a relationship – it cannot be understood as a mere act or fact of the individuals. The relationship is made ‘by’ individuals, but it is not made ‘of’ individuals.

I cannot dwell on the consequences that this idea of a relationship as an ‘emerging reality’ might have in a field of such fundamental importance today as that of education. I would simply like to emphasise how little families are aware of the fundamental educational role played by the relationship between parents towards their children. It is not merely the specific educational role of the father and mother, taken individually, but also – and perhaps even more significantly – the role played by the relationship between father and mother. As I have said, the relationship has an impact. This is by no means self-evident outside a relational perspective, but precisely because of its importance, it would seem to demand particular awareness and care on the part of the spouses. In other words, spouses would need to engage with their relationship in a ‘reflective’ manner; but for this to happen, a level of awareness is required which, unfortunately, does not seem to be sufficiently widespread either amongst spouses or amongst those who, in various capacities, deal with family issues. But what if, for example, we were to realise that it is precisely the relationship between the parents that is the main cause of the distress experienced by certain children – a distress that cannot be explained by the fact that the parents, taken individually, are both ‘such decent people’?

As mentioned at the outset, engaging thoughtfully in relationships is difficult and unusual; we prefer to let ourselves be unconsciously swept along by relationships, rather than guiding them, nurturing them and tending to them with a view to their fulfilment. But our relationships, however ‘invisible’ they may be, are very real; they often cause harm and always make demands. To put it plainly, I cannot treat my son as if he were a colleague, a student or one of my five-a-side football teammates. Indeed, if I do, as soon as I ‘reflect on it’ (if I do reflect on it, of course), I realise that something is amiss, that I am confusing matters, or failing to respect – or even distorting – a relationship. My son is not my friend. This awareness of our relationship is important. The quality of our lives often depends on it.