Through agriculture a large amount of people are able to live together. It allowed a group to grow, several to merge together or one to gain control over others. Whatever happened, it became necessary to organise on larger scales and to formalise or standardise a common system of values and symbols through which to communicate. This became “civilisation”.
There are many different aspects to civilisation, many different factors that go into defining it, so it can’t really be reduced to a single attribute, but the scale of it is what stands out for me. The size of civilisation allows for more things to be done and a larger amount and diversity of resources to be coordinated, allowing for a more complex society. Its size allows for impersonal relationships between people, which makes it, in a sense, inherently dehumanising. It also gives ripe conditions for oppressive hierarchies, corruption and inequalities to flourish.
The scale of civilisation presents interesting questions. How are so many strangers supposed to be coordinated? How do we relate to each other without knowing each other? I am able to walk through a city, and there are common customs, both implicit and explicit, developed within impersonal society that most people are familiar with so that confusion and conflict are minimised and communication facilitated, even if that means ignoring passers-by.
Civilisation is what happens when a large group of strangers have to co-exist, when intimate community is replaced by impersonal society. New dynamics and conditions apply because society becomes more unpredictable and more unwieldy. In small groups the members and their relationships are known; their personalities and idiosyncrasies are predictable or “navigable”. Personal experience may be more consistently transmitted across generations. Requests and deals can be made easily on a smaller scale without much forward planning or grappling for a consensus. In a large group of strangers, this becomes more difficult. Bureaucracy, market economies and the like become necessary.
Despite the facelessness of civilisation, its systems, institutions and traditions, there is still one thing that defines to me what it means to be “civilised”, and that is being able to rely on the good will or understanding of complete strangers. Within an impersonal context, personal connection still has value and is indispensable for civilisation. It is the one thing that prevents civilisation becoming a machine comprised of mere mechanisms.