written by JOHN MARK MINES | INDEPENDENCE, ECONOMICS, DECISION-MAKING
If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.
African Proverb
Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
Christmastime is chaotic for McCallister and company. Panicked by preparation, they forget their own child two years in a row. Thankfully, they never lose their luggage.
In Home Alone, Kevin McCallister is left, you guessed it, home alone. In Home Alone: Lost in New York, he gets lost in New York. Like their titles, the movies are straightforward.
But there’s more to these holiday classics than meets the eye. Beneath the holiday veneer, the duology demonstrates the power of comparison. This holiday season, consider: are we better together, or are you better off alone?
Time to Shine
In the McCallister clan, Kevin is the runt of the litter. To his family, he is “les incompétents” (incompetent) and “a disease.” He can’t even pack his own suitcase.
Being left home alone transforms him from zero to hero. He gets groceries, does laundry, and confronts his fear of the basement. Oh, and he fends off the formidable Wet Bandits with a little help from a next-door neighbor.
In the end, his family returns to a spotless estate. Every trace of criminal activity has been purged. When his parents discuss groceries, Kevin chimes in: “I went shopping yesterday,” he says with a grin. “I got the milk, eggs, and fabric softener.”
When everyone was together, Kevin was invisible. There were too many cooks in the kitchen. Isolation gave him time to shine. In many ways, he was better off alone.
Could this Christmas classic really be about the importance of being alone?
Addition by Subtraction
All holidays are economic. Valentine’s Day has roses and dinners. Halloween has costumes and candy. Christmas trumps the others with all manner of gift-giving to friends and relatives. Choosing the perfect gift comes down to a single metric: value.
Home Alone is a lesson in economics. In isolation, Kevin showcases his individual, or “unit,” value. By himself, he is capable, responsible, and creative. His value skyrockets.
But among family, Kevin fades into the background. He is constantly aware of his negligible value. This frustration decreases his value further by motivating mischief. Instead of being the main character, he’s marginalized.
mar·gin·al /ˈmärjənəl/
adjective: of secondary or minor importance; not central.
Life is a contest of marginal value. Unlike unit value, marginal value is comparative: it is the increase in value due to an additional unit, like adding Kevin to an already large McCallister family. In other words, value depends on surroundings.
This is the Law of Diminishing Returns. One glass of water in the desert is invaluable; two is better than one, but the second is less critical than the first. The value of each additional glass diminishes until adding more water simply doesn’t matter.
When Kevin was home alone, he was the first drink of water. He was the only one who could do the chores or protect against invaders. He was the star of the show. But, when his many family members return, he’s not the first drink any longer; he’s the fifteenth.
This is the power of paradigm. The first and fifteenth glasses of water are exactly identical. One is not any better or worse than the other. The perceived values, however, are as different as night and day.
Like the McCallister family, life is cluttered. We have no shortage of things to do or bills to pay. Not to mention the never-ending stream of new content, commercials, and products competing for our attention. Modern life is overwhelming.
In a world overflowing with stuff, the best way to find value is through paradigm, not purchasing. This is the genius of Home Alone: Kevin finds value in subtraction, not addition. In a world of excess, less is more.
Lost in Isolation
When Kevin is alone, his value is maximum. So is his freedom: he jumps on his parent’s bed eating popcorn and runs through the halls screaming at the top of his lungs. Kevin is most valuable alone, but that’s not when he’s happiest. Isolation comes at a cost.
Two characters personify the danger of prolonged isolation. In A Christmas Carol, Marley was dead, to begin with. In Home Alone, he only looks that way. Old Man Marley is white-haired, frail, and ghostly. He lives alone, haunted by the Ghost of Christmas Past.
When Kevin is lost in New York, he meets the “Pigeon Lady.” Nameless, she lives in Central Park and hasn’t spoken in years. Her best friends are non-potty-trained pigeons, and it shows.
These characters are cautionary tales. Marley is an estranged father frozen by fear of rejection. Heartbreak poisoned Pigeon Lady against human connection. They believe they are better off alone.
Clearly, they are not. Marley is plagued by shame and fear, dying alone. Pigeon Lady is homeless and covered in bird poop. The message is clear: character is not constant.
Isolation brings independence, autonomy, and control. But it also means disconnection, irrelevance, and loneliness. The total value of their lives has diminished at the cost of individuality. They are the stars of a show that no one wants to watch.
Initially, Kevin is thrilled with isolation. Over time, though, he misses his family. While his individual value has increased, the total value of his life has decreased. He begins to realize we are better together.
Kevin stirs Marley and the Lady. Confronted with his youthful potential, they realize the isolation has gone further than they ever anticipated. Surprisingly, both advise Kevin to amend rather than dig in. Because he listens, he’s not alone for long.
So this holiday season, take a lesson from Kevin: less is more. But don’t throw the baby out with the bath water. When you’re tempted to wish your family would disappear, remember the McCallister mindset: being alone is nice every once and while; but, in the end, we’re better together.
