https://pjmedia.com/columns/david-solway-2/2023/05/14/trust-n1695303
Among the most basic factors in what we may call the “practice of daily life” is one that is most easily forgotten or commonly neglected: trust. I mean, to begin with, trust in what we habitually regard as reliable without giving it a moment’s thought, as something we rarely doubt, let alone conceptualize. We seem to have little idea of the degree to which trust determines our every move, gesture and act. Trust, as James Bowman observes of honor in Honor: A History, is “reflexive” and at its core “inseparable from the human condition.”
Trust is instinctive in every moment of human existence. It is a faculty that we unconsciously exercise or apply to just about everything, irrespective of the unpredictable: that the approaching driver will stay in his lane, that the elevator will not stall between floors, that the manhole cover we walk over will remain solidly in place, that the balcony we sit under while having coffee in a sidewalk café will not collapse upon us (as happened to a couple in Montreal with grisly results) and will not give way under our feet (as happened to my university’s Faculty Club manager, who plunged to his death a few minutes after we exchanged the time of day), that the food we buy will not poison us, that the vaccine we take is not lethal, that our banker will not defraud us, that our doctor knows what she is talking about, that the ferry we board will not sink, that the microwave will not suddenly burst into flames (as happened to my mother-in-law), that the person we pass while jogging will not attack us — ad infinitum. We may be wary or nervous at times; nonetheless, trust goes so deep that it is the psychic motor powering all human action, even the most trivial.
In effect, trust is what philosopher David Hume in An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding called “the apperception of customary conjunction.” If this were not so, the most mundane routines would be put on hold, as in the case of Russian novelist Ivan Goncharov’s Oblomov, who never gets out of bed. We would not dare to cross the street. Every instant would be filled with paranoia. Trust is the cornerstone of sanity.