Why I picked it up: A client, after hearing my research, suggested it as he thought it had findings rather similar to my own … especially for my broader population contextual work.

Main thesis of book: American communities are evolving, and perhaps struggling, because the way our society is structured has fundamentally changed. Over the past few decades, most Americans have grown closer to a smaller number of intimate relations and close friends (an inner ring), and increased interactions with casual acquaintances (an outer ring of like-minded individuals in some way, such as professional contacts, fellow doorknob collectors, etc.), at the expense of a middle ring. That middle ring, of more ordinary friends and people we rubbed up against in our neighborhoods, is where community has historically been made.

Why the shift? He cites three reasons:

1. Greater mobility: Not just the movement of people and goods, but ideas. Think globalization, information access, etc. The net result of greater mobility is more globalization, digitization, and the emergence of the service economy.
2. Crisis of social mobility and income inequality.
3. Home life has changed with more working women and a putting off of marriage and children, while also more companionate marriages have made the inner ring stronger. Some argue this means less stability for communities, but others might argue more freedom of choice and action for individuals.

​The problem with the shift is that we only rub up against like-minded others. We have "nichified" ourselves to form a heterogeneous society of homogeneous, well, cliques. And within those cliques of like-minded individuals, we actually are driven to conform. (Bill Bishop covers this nichification in The Big Sort.)

By skipping over that middle ring, of community and making friends from that community, we don't encounter other viewpoints, don't learn how to engage in disagreement effectively, we cannot bank social capital, and we also lose the creative friction all of this generates. It is now way too easy to skip over the hassles and challenges of the middle ring in our transactions and our affinities. And he nails it when he points out that in the past, when the middle ring was thicker, "neighborliness" meant reaching out to the people who live next door. Today, it means leaving those around you in peace.

Dunkelman doesn't try to say the shift towards thicker inner and outer rings is good or bad, as he thinks it is a done deal and our society now needs to create new ways to mitigate the challenges that arise out of this shift. Disappointingly, while he wants us to be thoughtful on how we build new structures to take its place, he isn't all that forthcoming on ideas.

My take, based on my research: Generally, I agree with many of the themes in this book. My client was right that much of it my research finds similar trends.

In my work, I have found a shift in emphasis from communities of necessity,  which was the old structure Dunkelman argues we have lost, to communities of interest. In other words, 50 years ago people created community out of their neighbors, and joined things like the local Elks. But today, we can create virtual communities based on our idiosyncratic interests instantly, so many of us spend our time doing so … at the expense of local community. An example might be doorknob collectors (which you might smile at, but this is a specific example from some of my qualitative work). 

This graphic is one I have developed to illustrate people's capacity to engage with others, from taking care of themselves to engaging with the broader world. In this case, "community" is grayed out as I am illustrating how my research indicates young adults in particular struggle to connect with their community. Dunkelman's thesis would put most Americans where I have the young woman … not engaging with that middle ring. I generally agree with that.

One concept that I kept thinking about as I read this book, however, is the idea that we have "nichified" ourselves to form a heterogeneous society of homogenous cliques, at the expense of understanding, empathy, etc. And here I think museums may have an opportunity.

In open-ended questions from my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, a sizable number of museum-goers wrote in that museums had made them more understanding of others by broadening perspectives, presenting different viewpoints, etc. (See my Research Release #4, "The Value of Museums.") I followed that up with a closed-ended question in my 2018 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, and found that 43% of museum-goers felt museums had benefited them in this way. That's pretty sizable. (Research release forthcoming.)

So this begs the question if museums can be a proactive part of the solution. After all, among the niche of museum-goers, we may be making a difference. But is our audience of museum-goers enough to make a societal difference? I doubt it. Extending this work to broader audiences would be necessary, which brings a host of other access challenges.

Read or skip? Skip. The thesis is compelling, and I see it in my own work, so I liked that. But I felt there was a lot of filler in this book. A quick Google search, and my skim, indicates the following two articles by Dunkelman are good synopses.

• "The Key to Reviving American Institutions May Lie Next Door." The Atlantic, September 9, 2015.
• "The Transformation of American Community." National Affairs, Spring 2018.

Full citation:  Dunkelman, Marc J. The Vanishing Neighbor: The Tranformation of American Community. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2014.



Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I picked it up: What on earth does a book about developing nations have to do with museums, especially American ones? Quite a bit, as it turns out.

There are a few areas of my work that I have always struggled with, and one is how to discuss what I usually describe as low socio-economic status (SES) households. Households that have fewer resources, and more barriers to museum visitation. I've come to a realization that museums (inadvertently, perhaps) perpetuate income inequality as our (primarily) well-educated audiences provide resources and experiences to their children, yielding benefits that make that next generation better educated, more employable, and often higher earning. A perpetuation of privilege. I'm part of that privilege, and museums are part of what helped me, just as I count on them to help my children be more knowledgeable and compassionate thinkers.

To say "if only low SES households would visit …" seems patronizing while also self-serving to museums. And it also shifts "blame" to low SES individuals. Like it is their fault for challenges they face in their lives when, instead, it is often a slew of external forces that are influencing life outcomes. Forces such as family medical or caregiving needs, childhood upbringing, systemic racism, and economic insecurity.

Which is why reviewing another book, American Generosity, was such a revelation to me. It utilized a capacity approach to how individuals exhibit generosity, and it is an approach I have embraced in my own work. It is an approach that casts no judgement on an individual. Instead, it embraces human dignity, recognizing that capacity to engage with others, a community, or the broader world varies widely. It is one that moves us to do what we can to increase individual capacity so that more can reach their full potential.

I recently reviewed Welcome to Your World, where I came across the work of Martha Nussbaum (the author of this book) and economist Amartya Sen. I was intrigued by their ideas on capabilities, as well as negative freedoms (e.g., freedom from want) and positive freedoms (e.g., freedom to educate oneself). My desire to learn more led me to this book.

What you need to know: First off, the Capabilities Approach is based on the question "What are people actually able to do and to be?" It focuses on respect for individuals and their human dignity, and has been adopted by the World Bank and the United Nations Development Programme.

The Capabilities Approach is rooted in choice and freedom, which thus creates individual opportunity. This emphatically makes the approach highly concerned about "entrenched social justice and inequality." The overall goal is to lift everyone on the planet up to a widely held threshold of capability that builds internal capabilities of health, education, etc., along with changes in the social, political, and economic environments that allow people to act on their internal capabilities.

There are 10 Central Capabilities:

• Life (of normal length)
• Bodily health
• Bodily integrity
• Senses, imagination, and thought
• Emotions
• Practical reason
• Affiliation (includes compassion)
• Other species (living with natural environment)
• Play
• Control over one's environment

Some of these capabilities lend themselves to negative freedoms (that is, bodily health implies freedom from want or hunger), while others lend themselves to positive freedoms (freedom to feel, learn, or play). Lifelong learning, such as through museums, can increase a number of these capabilities.

Implications for museums:

1. Consider the ten capabilities and how museums can support capabilities through some or all of them.
2. Reframe our value as increasing people's capacity to grow, both personally and as contributing members of society.
3. Actually help people … live the philosophy.
4. Collect and show evidence of how we do this work. After all, this is how we make a difference, and we need to show that evidence to generate the resources we need to expand that work.

Theory and Circular Logic Tangent (skip this part of the review unless you enjoy getting in my head): Throughout this book I struggled with my own circular logic. I know from my research that museum-goers exhibit greater capacity to engage with the world, and improved life outcomes (even when controlling for educational attainment). Pursuing lifelong learning (including visiting museums) likely is a key reason for that gap. So, in theory, if we provide greater access to our resources to more people, we could help improve individual capacity, right? Sure. But this also feels patronizing (my review notes actually include the word "imperialistic"). Like telling someone with an unhealthy diet to eat their spinach. They know it is better, but they don't want to do it. And, indeed, they have the individual freedom to choose their diet.

Yet, flipping it around, why do I think encouraging people to visit museums more to increase capabilities is patronizing, but telling kids to stay in school isn't? Aren't they both about education? Or, to take from Nussbaum, is forcing children to visit museums early and often (as well as other enrichment lifelong learning activities) a "necessary prelude to adult capability?" Yet not everyone needs museums to have good outcomes in life … just like I can dislike kale and still be a healthy adult (I actually like spinach).

Fortunately, my struggles with the theory, my own circular logic, and presumptions are not unique. Nussbaum herself delves into it herself, trying to find her own line in the sand, just as I am. So whew, it isn't just me.

Read/skip: Skip. You got this from this review. Unless you love theory (because this book is theory heavy).

Full citation:  Nussbaum, Martha C. Creating Capabilities: The Human Development Approach. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2011.

Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I picked it up: A few years ago, when I visited the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences, there was a moment when I stopped to enjoy the sunlight. And then I realized I was in a science museum, and I was enjoying the sunlight. I loved visiting that museum, I stayed a long time, and I found the exhibitions more memorable than typical.

You see, I have a pet peeve. What I call "black caves." Those yawning exhibition spaces, typically painted black, with no natural light whatsoever. They are particularly prevalent in science centers and museums. And they have always confounded me. I find them oppressive. But it has also always seemed odd that science centers, which typically have no collections, are so dark while art museums are typically filled with light.

Which brings me to Welcome to Your World. A review of this book in The Nation queried "what is the science behind how we experience architecture?" That piqued my interest, not only because of my experience in North Carolina, but also because museum-goers sometimes share with me their emotional and physical responses to museum buildings and spaces.

Main thesis of book: More than 90% of our time is spent in human-made spaces, and "[design shapes] our cognitions, emotions, and actions, and even powerfully influences our well-being." Thus, it is incumbent on all of us to make sure our built environments support human welfare as a health and well-being issue. This seems pretty obvious to me, to design for people (it's my attitude towards museums, after all).

​Fun fact: There is an Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture. Who knew?

Three most important takeaways:

1. Museums can have an "ennobling" quality. The author quotes architect Louis Kahn, who said, "If you look at the Baths of Caracalla … we all know that we can bathe just as well under an eight-foot ceiling as we can under a 150-foot ceiling … [but] there's something about a 150-foot ceiling that makes a different kind of man." Sure, but what does that have to do with museums? Well, that "ennobling" quality the author refers to is similar to what some museums-goers have shared with me about their most meaningful museum experiences (especially from their childhoods; from my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers). The idea that by being welcomed into grand spaces, like some museums are, ennobles them in some way, giving them the idea that this is for them, and they are worthy of such grandeur. Pretty powerful for a kid. But there is one challenge with it: you actually have to be welcoming. To everyone.
2. Architecture affects our ability to learn. A recent study out of the United Kingdom found that "built environmental factors impact a student's learning progress by an astonishing 25 percent." If learning is our mission (typically) and what people value from us (97% of Americans do, as seen in my recent work with AAM), we should consider how our physical spaces promote or prevent learning. The evidence in this book would indicate that the black caves I hate so much may actually inhibit learning, preventing us from actually fulfilling our mission.
3. Design affects individual capacity. Those of you who follow my work closely know I think a lot about individual capacities to engage with not just museums, but communities and the broader world.  I appreciate this approach for building up what a person can be, providing them the freedom to grow, rather than casting judgements and making character assessments. (The book American Generosity highly influenced my thinking about capacity.) This book also considers capacity, making a case that many built environments negatively affect the capacity for children, and adults, to fulfill their potential. In some cases, it is poor design. In others, environmental issues (think lead exposure to low-income children). 

Read or skip: Here's a sample sentence: "Carefully devised, skillfully deployed metaphors mitigate the build environment's stasis and our tendency to habituate to it, through the many overlapping associations they elicit." If this sentence excites you, this book is for you. If it makes your eyes roll back in your head, well, consider my review sufficient.

But if you are considering a new building or a remodeling, and you truly care about how visitors (and your staff) will respond in the new space you are creating, the book may be worth picking up and reading.


Full citation: Goldhagen, Sarah Williams. Welcome to Your World: How the Built Environment Shapes Our Lives. New York: Harper Collins, 2017.



Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.