Using Fun to Repair the American Family

Info

2026 preface. I found this while going through old files, and it stopped me. It’s dated October 2002 — the founding year of Stalefish Labs — and it’s the earliest piece of writing I have that states the company’s actual philosophy out loud. Elsewhere on this site I’ve pointed at a 2008 blog post as the clearest statement of what the Stalefish name was about — committing to the uncool. This is a different thread, and an earlier one: the company’s actual mission, written in the founding year and aimed squarely at it. It just never got finished. The draft makes its case across two sections and then stops cold at a third heading with nothing under it.

What’s strange to read now is how little the core idea has moved. The argument here — technology isn’t the enemy, the only question is when and where it actually serves the thing you care about, so use it for that and not against it — is the same means-and-ends argument I’m making twenty-four years later in the current essays, just aimed at the family dinner table instead of the drawing board. I’m leaving the original here unchanged, dangling final heading and all. I’m also finally finishing it, in the company voice it was written in, as the Stalefish Labs manifesto it was always meant to be.

“Mama used to roll her hair, back before the central air. We’d sit outside and watch the stars at night. She’d tell me to make a wish, and I’d wish we both could fly. Don’t think she’s seen the sky, since we got the satellite dish.” — James McMurtry, “Levelland”

The Decline of the American Front Porch

Prior to World War II, the front porch represented the American ideal of family. The porch, in essence, was an outdoor living room, where the family could retire after the activities of a long day. In the evenings, as the outdoor air provided a cool alternative to the stuffy indoor temperatures, the entire family would move to the front porch. The children might play in the front yard or the friendly confines of the neighborhood, while the parents rocked in their chairs, dismissing the arduous labors and tasks of the day into relaxation and comfort. Stories might be told, advice garnered, or songs sung. What the family room of post World War II America would become, existed first as the front porch.

In the period immediately after World War II, the American front porch became a relic of the past, an architectural feature and cultural symbol no longer important to Americans. The primary technological change that spurred this abandonment of the front porch was the proliferation of the American automobile. The new technological development of air conditioning further aided in the decline of the front porch. Providing a cool environment indoors, the front porch was no longer needed as a cool shaded area during the day or as a place to enjoy the cool night air. Families remained indoors comfortably, and a primary use of the front porch was no longer needed. Air conditioning, in a sense, also contributed to another technological development which would affect the front porch: the television. The television, which could exist only inside, provided endless hours of entertainment indoors. As a result, family life shifted from the porch to a family room or television room, where families could watch the evening news, sporting events, or the early sitcoms, all while enjoying the newly invented “television dinner.” No longer would families relax outside on the front porch.

America had become overtly more individualistic and less community oriented during this period. At the same time, the traditional American importance given to the family had declined. Familial structure and relations had changed, lending to less family interaction and family time. While this connection to the decline of the front porch is a stretch, it certainly may have played a role.

By the 1960’s, the front porch had disappeared in the new architectural forms and houses sweeping the country. Technological and cultural forces had pushed porches to the back or side yard, or had eliminated them altogether. American society had changed, and with this change the front porch no longer stood as an American cultural symbol. Few Americans noticed this change, and the front porch disappeared into the realm of American memory. In many ways, family interaction disappeared along with front porches.

Bringing Families Back Together

So, is the solution to the problem of lost family interaction to lead a porch building campaign across the country? We don’t think so. America has permanently changed since the days when the front porch served as the glue holding our communities together. However, this doesn’t mean that the fight to restore interaction to families has been lost. The challenge is to figure out ways to work with and around technology to bring families together in different ways.

Technology really isn’t a bad thing, we just need to figure out when and where it is the most beneficial in our lives. It isn’t too hard to see that a family that sits in front of the television every night will be less connected than a family that communicates around a dinner table. Or more to the point, a family that plays a social game together will have shared more and grown closer than a family that goes to watch a movie.

America is a highly entertainment driven culture, and we don’t aim to change that. In fact, we’re all for entertainment. What we’re suggesting is that people entertain themselves in ways that help enrich the relationships they have with other people. We’ve found that one of the best forms of entertainment for fostering relationships is traditional games such as board games, trivia games, scavenger hunts, etc. We regularly play such games at gatherings with friends and family. We’ve found that people are pleasantly surprised at how much fun it can be to connect with other people socially in the context of a game.

The fact of the matter is that you really don’t need a front porch to become a part of your community or get closer to your family and friends. You just need to make an effort to interact with them, preferably in a fun setting.

It’s a Vital Part of Growing Up

[The 2002 draft ends here — this heading, and nothing beneath it.]