Why we can't have nice things

Photo by Sergi Viladesau

I’ve always admired good street art, which is also known as graffiti. When done well, it adds something to the landscape, rather than ruining it. Think beautiful large murals, or the small pixelated ceramic tile mosaic art by the French street artist known as Invader that’s found throughout the streets of Paris. When I had visited San Diego several years ago, the city had actually commissioned street art.

However, during my travels through Europe, I have also been noticing something that’s far more akin to vandalism—even ancient buildings were not safe. It’s been thought that “tags”—stylized spraypaint of names—are a way to confirm the “author’s” existence on this planet or a way to show off one’s ability to access difficult to reach spaces. It’s a way of bragging and being challenged. Since taggers are often young, it’s also part of being a rebel. A study in the the academic journal Deviant Behavior found that taggers also use it as a way to relieve boredom and stress. They might also view it as a form of artistic expression.

I’ve also come across an interesting post on Reddit where one user shared that when he participated in tagging it was because he had convinced himself that corporate logos were everywhere anyway:

“Look around you. In every phone booth, every elevator, every grocery store, every square inch of public transportation. Seriously, look around. The logos of which credit/debit cards are accepted, whose coordinating the transaction, who made the window, who made every bolt and every screw on every bolt and every screw. Don't just look at the billboards. Look at every object. Its covered in corporate logos and registered trademarks.”

Since the world is tagged anyway, he thought: "fuck it. This is my world. Not Visa. Not American Bolt. Not Swisher toilet systems. This is mine."

He saw it as an attempt to reclaim society, then. Now, he calls it a “bullshit excuse” he had convinced himself of. He’s not alone.

Photo by Loes

But what of the low-effort tags that don’t even contain a name—just spray paint of certain phrases or ugly splashes of color defacing beautiful buildings? Vandals, we’ll call them. Is it merely the rush of doing something illegal? A destructive and aggressive impulse? An expression of anger? Boredom? Poor impulse control? Risk-taking and the thrill of getting away with a (relatively) minor crime? Anti-social tendencies? Apathy? Probably all of the above.

One clinical psychologist, Dr. Jeffery Chase, suggests that it can reflect displaced anger: “displacement in the technical sense is that [vandals] wish to do something against a more threatening object or individual, so they vent their anger on something safer.”

That perhaps explains some of the “free Palestine” graffiti I encountered during my travels.

In 2000, the National Bureau of Justice had reported that vandalism accounted for $1.6 billion in damage to households alone. That’s a whole lot of pent up frustration.

I can’t help but wince whenever I see a historical building, ancient wall or monument defaced by a punk with a can of paint.

And, sadly, like attracts like. As soon as one person leaves their “mark” — it draws in more. Areas where there’s too much such graffiti give off the impression of being uncared for, and thus, potentially dangerous. And they tend to only get worse. (Of course, sometimes these tags are also used to mark street gang territory).

Photo by John Cameron

In some ways, it’s not so different from littering. If people see litter already there, they will add to it. And, like with vandalism, they think they can get away with it. With both, there’s a narcissistic entitlement element to it. Their needs are above those of others.

According to psychiatrist Dr. Charles Silberstein, “A litterer may think, I am a special person and my needs are more important than other people's needs. I am entitled to do what I want.” He also explain that, for some people, part of the narcissism is often derived from having been abused or mistreated as children, which then transformed into anger and a sense of entitlement because the world “owes” them.” 

There’s perhaps a general sense, too, of individual entitlement. While many people who litter cite the lack of trash receptacles as a reason, I’m reminded of my visits to Japan, where it’s nearly impossible to find any rubbish bins. Instead, Japanese people carry a bag with them throughout the day into which they deposit their trash to take home. Part of that practice is no doubt motivated by a communal regard over an individualistic one.

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski

This also ties in to James Q. Wilson and George L. Kelling’s broken windows theory. First introduced in 1982, the theory states that when signs of antisocial behavior are visible—whether broken windows, graffiti, litter, or civil disorder—it encourages more of it, potentially even escalating to more serious crimes.

Wilson and Kelling wrote in the March 1982 issue of The Atlantic Monthly:

Social psychologists and police officers tend to agree that if a window in a building is broken and is left unrepaired, all the rest of the windows will soon be broken. This is as true in nice neighborhoods as in rundown ones. Window-breaking does not necessarily occur on a large scale because some areas are inhabited by determined window-breakers whereas others are populated by window-lovers; rather, one un-repaired broken window is a signal that no one cares, and so breaking more windows costs nothing. (It has always been fun.)

According to the theory, creating an atmosphere of order and lawfulness by strictly policing even minor crimes, would decrease crime in general.

But even policing aside, it’s well-documented that ensuring that spaces are well kept, and inappropriate graffiti is immediately removed, ensures that spaces are better kept. If a bathroom stall is free of writing, someone is far less likely to etch their name or write “for a good time call…” If a promenade is already free of litter, most people would be far less likely to throw their trash on the ground.

The key is addressing problems when they are still small.

Like repairing a broken window quickly.

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