The Cost of Convenience: The lost art of relationship cultivation

Networking or inconvenience. How capitalism and austerity have shaved away at our interpersonal skills and destroyed the pillars of intentional community.

The convenience of individualism is in the minimal obligation it permits for others. The insulated approach to life that our capitalist landscape requires makes the comfort in our unipolar lives easier to sink into. It makes it necessary to “lock in” to an absolute tunnel vision to survive, being the only prism that seems to offer potential success or security in these realities. Therefore whilst we have become accustomed to frantically stepping on each other to keep our heads above the rising tide, the rare moment we may reach out to touch is for a networking-implied handshake instead of a desperate embrace.

For this chapter of the “Cost of Convenience” series, I want to unpack how austerity and late-stage capitalism have shaved away at our relationship cultivation and preservation skills in both a professional and platonic nature. Relationships depend on the little inconveniences that we are willing to make and any fruitful working dynamic takes the time that the notion of “networking” does not consider. Ease has killed patience and without that, true relationships whether for comfort or mutual progress die without substance.

The inconvenient choice is the rebellious choice

Individualism is convenient because it’s efficient, not only does it save time, but it also saves energy and as austerity pushes people closer to the breadline, the average person increasingly resembles a production line, automating as many processes as possible so that it requires fewer hands and less costs.

Late-stage capitalism has thus by steady attrition eliminated the “village”; our lives no longer involve spontaneous visits to friends’ houses because the cost of transport is too high, we no longer borrow the odd hammer or pack of sugar because we could get it ordered to us within hours and we rarely ask for favours because our relationships have become transactional.

When I grew up my Nan lived a walk away, she was a pillar in our daily lives. My parents, like many of ours however, grew up at a time when after school they would stay with a random family friend until their mom was home from work. Through the process of gentrification families were pushed out of their communities, so now many of our previous pillars live all over the country let alone a city. The village was lost and we are most definitely feeling the consequences.

What we have seemed to miss, is that relationships thrive on inconvenience. Being willing to inconvenience yourself to offer, help or support simply because of the value of said relationship is the cornerstone of humanity. However, the collective pillar of the human existence has now become brittle and redundant, because it's quicker and cheaper to do it by yourself.

If you were to watch any corporate day in the life on TikTok, you would see that the protagonist’s ability to go to the gym at 5 am, work overtime at their data analyst job, cook and scroll till its time to do it all again is due to the absence of the other. People are disruptive to routine, your friend’s breakup disturbs your “Survive in the capitalist West” schedule and the random check-in call pierces the lock-in regimen.

Calling a friend after work, for a check-in that could range from an undefined period of 1-3 hours is inconvenient because instead, you could meal prep for the week, tap into your side hustle, and then numb your brain with a mediocre Netflix original or a two-hour doom scroll in that time. But the inconvenient choice is the rebellious choice, the one that makes our brains work, the one that feeds our human need for connection and the one that keeps us accountable for others. Capitalism and the theoretical production line of survival have given us little choice but to insulate our lives to keep our heads above water, but if everyone else drowns, what now?

Networking or mutual relationship cultivation?

Relationship cultivation is a lost art. The speed which people expect and need things to happen in many cases leads them to work with people who do not share their values. Our focus on output and our rush to produce and have something to show for ourselves often results in working with people we cannot trust and paying the price later on, simply because we could not take the time to learn, engage, and let things breathe.

Networking is great in theory: navigate spaces with people who casually engage with your aspirations, walk into a room, identify the people that can facilitate your trajectory, confidently approach them, ask for their LinkedIn, proceed with “we need to work man”, “let’s lock in for real”, exchange a few rounds of small talk tennis and then return to your corner of the event. It's direct, swift and it's centred all around your singular view of someone’s usefulness.

However, the true breeding ground for a fruitful working relationship is time, conversation, and observation. Having conversations simply to learn and to know as opposed to immediately gain holds so much more long-term value in both a professional stance and for personal growth. People are not stepping stones, they are not rocket launchers and like a plant they need to be nurtured to brighten up your room.

By taking the time to converse and observe, not only do you learn, but you can fine-tune your needs and theirs to measure whether a working relationship can be born or even needs to. Knowledge exchange and intentional engagement are inconvenient, but the inconvenient choice is the rebellious one and often the one that stands the test of time.

Kisses, Nubia