Three everyday practices that have taught humanity how to live together — long before we argued about how to do it.
SERIES OVERVIEW
Civility is usually discussed as a set of rules, manners, or expectations imposed on behavior. But historically, civility emerged much earlier and much more naturally — through shared cultural practices that required cooperation, restraint, emotional awareness, and mutual respect.
This three-part series explores how music, the arts, and cooking and dining together have quietly shaped civil societies across cultures and generations. Each essay stands alone, yet together they reveal a simple truth: civility is learned through participation, not instruction.
The series avoids politics and ideology, focusing instead on universally recognized human activities that transcend differences and foster social stability.
PART I: What Music Teaches Us About Civility — and Why It Matters Now
In a time of rising division and constant noise, it’s worth asking a simple question:
How did we forget how to listen?
Civility, at its core, is not about politeness or etiquette. It is about how we live together. It requires attention, restraint, empathy, timing, and respect for something larger than us. Interestingly, all these qualities are not only taught but also practiced daily in music.
Music is one of humanity’s most universal languages. Every culture has it. Long before written law, we gathered around rhythm, melody, and song. And yet, we rarely talk about music as a training ground for civility. We should.
To make music—especially with others—one must listen before acting. One must wait one’s turn. One must adjust volume, tempo, and tone in response to those around them. Harmony is not achieved by dominance, but by cooperation. Even disagreement, in the form of tension and resolution, follows rules. Music teaches us that expression without awareness becomes noise.
These lessons are not abstract. They are lived experiences.
Consider an orchestra. No single instrument carries the whole piece. Each has moments of prominence and moments of support. Success depends not on being the loudest, but on being accurate, responsive, and attuned. This form of cooperation is civility in motion.
Nowhere is this clearer than in El Sistema, the internationally respected music education movement founded in Venezuela and now present in more than 60 countries. El Sistema provides children—many from marginalized or high-risk environments—with musical instruments, instruction, and the expectation that they will practice together.
Its outcomes are remarkable, but not for the reasons people often assume.
Yes, students learn music. But more importantly, they learn discipline, accountability, patience, and mutual respect. They realize that their presence matters—and that so does everyone else’s. They learn to regulate their emotions, channel their frustration, and contribute meaningfully to a group effort. These are not “soft” benefits. They are foundational life skills.
El Sistema does not begin with lectures on behavior. It starts with sound, structure, and shared purpose. Civility emerges not as a rule, but as a byproduct of participation.
This coordination matters because one of society’s most significant challenges today is dysregulation—emotional, social, and cognitive. Many young people grow up surrounded by stimulation but starved of connection. Music offers a corrective. Practicing an instrument demands focus. Playing with others demands trust. Performing requires courage and humility in equal measure.
Music also teaches something we’ve lost in public discourse: silence.
Rests matter. We do not need to fill every void. Listening is an active skill. Civility depends on this understanding. When we no longer pause, when we speak over one another, when volume replaces meaning, the social fabric frays.
Importantly, music accomplishes all of this without ideology. It does not ask where you come from or what you believe. It asks only that you show up, pay attention, and do your part.
If we are serious about building more civil communities—and a stronger next generation—we should stop treating music as an extracurricular luxury. It is a civic asset. Programs like El Sistema demonstrate that when we invest in shared cultural practices that cultivate listening and cooperation, society benefits downstream.
We cannot mandate civility; however, we can teach it by practicing and living it.
Music has been teaching us how for centuries.
Perhaps it’s time we started listening again.
SHORT EDITOR’S NOTE
At a time when public discussion about civility often becomes political or moralistic, this series takes a different approach.
Rather than arguing about who is right or wrong, or proposing new rules for behavior, the essays that follow ask a quieter question: How did human beings originally learn to live together at all?
The author suggests that civility did not begin as an abstract idea or a formal code, but as a lived skill developed through shared cultural experiences — making music, creating art, and gathering around the table. These practices appear in every culture, across history, and require no agreement beyond participation.
Readers skeptical of “soft solutions” may be surprised to find that the essay series is not about nostalgia or sentimentality. It is about practical human behaviors that teach listening, emotional regulation, responsibility, and cooperation — the very capacities modern societies say they want, yet they struggle to cultivate.
Whether one agrees or not, the series invites reflection on something often overlooked: before we tried to manage civility, we practiced it — together.
Jay Remer was raised in the United States and emigrated to Canada roughly 30 years ago. Since then, I have been involved in the writers’ community and the hospitality industry. I live in Saint Andrews, NB, and look forward to the day when healthy, civil debates bear more compassionate outcomes. Please feel free to send your questions: jayremer@chco.tv
