Independence? That's middle class blasphemy. We are all dependent on one another, every soul of us on earth.

The myth we can't admit depends on us

We tell ourselves we want independence, but the truth is messier and more human than that. When you really think about your day—the person who grew your food, who built your phone, who taught you to read—you're surrounded by invisible threads of dependence. Shaw is pointing at something we'd rather not admit: that independence is partly a fantasy we've sold ourselves, especially once we had enough money to pretend we pulled ourselves up alone.

But here's where it gets interesting. Recognizing this doesn't have to feel like weakness or a loss of freedom. In fact, the opposite might be true. When you stop pretending you're entirely self-made, you start seeing your life differently. Your relationships become less about ego and more about genuine connection. You're quicker to ask for help without shame. You understand why people struggle—not because they're lazy, but because the system of mutual dependence is fragile, and some people have fewer reliable connections than others.

The real blasphemy, Shaw suggests, isn't admitting we need each other. It's claiming we don't, then acting like those who fall through the cracks simply didn't try hard enough. Once you see how deeply we're all tangled together, independence stops being the measure of a good life. Interdependence is.