The Life We Were Told to Want - Why Following the Rules Isn't Working

 

Most societies carry around an image of the ideal citizen.

We rarely talk about it directly. It is not written down in a single document. No one officially announces it. Yet almost everyone knows it exists.

It functions as a kind of social shorthand. A compression algorithm for behavior.

Instead of teaching every child every rule individually, a society creates an image of what a successful person looks like and allows people to orient themselves toward that image. Parents use it. Teachers use it. Employers use it. Politicians use it. Even those who reject it usually define themselves in relation to it.

For much of my life, I never consciously examined the model citizen that had been installed in my mind. I simply assumed it was normal.

Looking back now, I realize it was not only a model citizen. It was a model life.

The model citizen worked hard in school. They caused few problems. They graduated from high school and usually went on to college or university. They selected a practical field of study, worked diligently, and entered a stable career.

Once employed, they worked full-time, often for a single organization or profession. They advanced steadily. They bought a home. They married. They raised children. They contributed to their community. They retired comfortably after several decades of loyal service.

Most importantly, this life was not merely supposed to be possible.

It was supposed to be normal.

The model citizen was not presented as an extraordinary achievement. It was presented as the natural outcome of making responsible choices and exercising reasonable discipline.

The message was clear: if you worked hard, delayed gratification, stayed out of trouble, and followed the path, things would work out.

For many people, this did not feel like a fantasy.

It felt achievable.

The reason it felt achievable is that, for a brief period of history, it was.

The decades following the Second World War were unusual. North America experienced an extraordinary period of economic growth. Housing was relatively affordable. Tuition costs were low by modern standards. Stable employment was easier to find. Many organizations offered pensions. In some cases, a single income could support an entire household.

This period was real. It happened.

The mistake was assuming it represented the permanent condition of human society.

The model citizen became frozen in time.

The world did not.

By the time I attended Dalhousie University in the 1990s, many aspects of that older social contract were still intact. Tuition was affordable enough that I was able to pay my way through school with part-time and summer work. It was not easy, but it was possible.

A few years later, that reality was already beginning to disappear.

Programs that had once been focused, practical, and affordable became longer, more expensive, and increasingly credential-driven. Jobs that once required a diploma began requiring a degree. Jobs that once required a degree began requiring additional certifications, postgraduate education, or years of unpaid experience.

The bachelor’s degree gradually became the new high school diploma.  But with huge loans.

The finish line kept moving.

Meanwhile, housing costs rose faster than wages. Permanent employment gave way to contract work, temporary work, and frequent restructuring. Pensions became less common. Career paths became less predictable. Administrative requirements multiplied in nearly every profession.

Yet the model citizen remained largely unchanged.

Young people were still handed the same map.

Study hard.

Get the degree.

Find the job.

Buy the house.

Build the career.

Retire comfortably.

The problem was that the territory no longer matched the map.

Many people sensed this long before they could articulate it.

The rules seemed to be changing, but no one had officially announced the changes.

As a result, people often blamed themselves.

If life was becoming harder, perhaps they were not working hard enough.

If they were struggling financially, perhaps they had made poor choices.

If they felt exhausted, overwhelmed, or disillusioned, perhaps there was something wrong with them.

What if a significant part of the problem was not individual failure?

What if the model itself had become outdated?

Every society needs ideals. Every society needs examples of admirable behavior. Every society needs some vision of what it means to contribute.

But ideals must periodically be examined.

An ideal that no longer reflects reality does not guide people.

It misleads them.

The purpose of examining the model citizen is not to reject responsibility, ambition, education, or contribution. Those things still matter.

The purpose is simply to ask a question that has become increasingly difficult to ignore:

If the world has changed this much, why are we still using the same map?