There’s a good example of the difference between gigantism and a more appropriate scale in the community where I live.

In one area, there’s a pleasant street full of little stores.  They’re definitely “stores” rather than “shops,” in the sense that they’re hardly toney or trendy boutiques.  One houses a tax preparation service;  another sells used vacuum cleaners.  The overall feel of the neighborhood is delightful, though.  Trees dapple the sunlight on the sidewalk, and there’s always an interesting variety of windows to look into as you walk by.

In another area stands a new Wal-Mart.  Taking a walk for pleasure in this area would be unimaginable.  Most of the area is just a stark, broiling, glare-filled parking lot.  What isn’t parking lot is a blank, windowless, impervious mass.  You could no more window shop this Wal-Mart than you could casually glance into Fort Knox or a federal penitentiary.  And what would anyone be doing walking around there in the first place?  It’s unpleasant enough to approach in a car.

The difference in the two neighborhoods goes beyond mere visual impressions, and gets into the underlying social and economic structure.  On the street of little stores, it’s plausible to imagine myself opening up some kind of little business of my own someday.  This means that I can entertain the possibility of being an active and rooted participant in this environment, rather than just a transient spectator.

I could not in my wildest imaginings picture myself opening up a store the size of Wal-Mart, or any of its comparably gargantuan neighbors.  When I go to the area where these mega-marts are encamped, I know that my only possible role there is as a consumer.

What if all neighborhoods, everywhere, were like the one that Wal-Mart is in?  How would I ever find a niche where I could cultivate something of my own?  How could I ever feel like there was a place in the world where I could be a “player,” a participant—something more than just a consumer?

Our era of relentless corporate consolidations is causing just such a “Wal-Martification” in our economic environment at large.  This affects me even when it isn’t causing me direct or immediate economic harm.  In a more hospitable environment like the street of little stores, I don’t have to have a business venture in development right at the moment to appreciate the awareness that there’s a way I could start up something of my own.  But when the scale of everything is too vast for me to even imagine something new being able to sprout up, I can never escape an awareness of being somehow blocked or thwarted or cut off from opportunity.