Look at the picture at the top of this
blog. It shows a part of a wall with a house number and a letterbox. A cord
with a clothes-peg is hanging from the letterbox. It looks quite banal, but
actually it is a very meaningful and also intriguing picture. For why is the
cord with clothes-peg hanging from the letterbox? I don’t know how it was or is
in other countries, but I think that most Dutchmen will know the function of the
cord: It is connected with the lock of the door (left; outside the picture) and
if you pull at the cord, you can open the door and you can go in (it works only
for certain types of locks). The peg prevents that the cord slides back through
the letterbox.
Cords hanging from letterboxes was
something you could see quite a lot in the past (in the Netherlands, at least,
but I assume also elsewhere). It made that an occupant of the house could
easily go in and out without using a key. In addition, neighbours and guests you
were expecting could use it, so I read on the Internet, but as far as I can remember
this wasn’t common. As I remember, it was mainly used by children playing in
the street, who could go in and out this way without ringing the bell each
time, so that their mothers didn’t need to open the door. As for others, people
don’t easily go into another house, for by doing so they enter a private zone. Therefore,
neighbours and guests at least would ring the doorbell or knock on the door
before going in.
As said, hanging a cord through a letterbox
was much done in the past; I guess until about the 1970s. It was like laying a
key under the doormat, so that you didn’t need to take it with you and everyone
in the house, especially the children, could easily go in and out. This was
also often done. Or you hung a key on a nail in the shed. Although you couldn’t
see the key from the street, everybody knew that this was much done, so
actually it was not different from openly putting a cord through the letterbox.
Weren’t people afraid that burglars would go into the house? No. Everybody
trusted that it wouldn’t happen. Indeed, criminality was rather low in those
days so it seldom happened that this trust was violated.
However, times were changing. Criminality
increased, and people got also more and more expensive possessions, so it became
more risky to keep an outside door unlocked. Therefore, people no longer let
hang cords through letterboxes, no longer put keys under doormats or hung keys
on nails in barns. People trusted each other less and less and these practices
disappeared.
Or so I thought. For a few weeks ago I
walked through the town of Delft. And suddenly my eye was caught by this old,
almost forgotten, scene. It wasn’t a quiet suburb where I saw it. It wasn’t in
a back street. No, I saw this cord hanging from a letterbox in a busy street
near the centre of Delft, where many people continuously were passing by. I
thought that trust in other people in general had gone and that it had become restricted
mainly to relations with family, friends and acquaintances, and to relations
where you have sanctions (like often in business relations, for instance; and
actually you cannot speak of trust then). Trust in general in people you had no
relation with and that you didn’t know or had never seen or met had gone, I
thought. I was mistaken. Trust in unknown people still seems to exist, or, if I
am optimistic, maybe it has even increased. Trust does still exist, for people
are still hanging cords through letterboxes, so that everybody can come in,
knowing that it will not happen.
Older
blogs on trust
- Every
citizen a criminal, 12 September 2009
- Trust, 15
November 2010
- Trust (2),
30 June 2014
- “He
that injures one threatens many” (Francis Bacon), 22 December 2014
- The
cement of society, 12 June 2017
- The
cement of society (2), 19 June 2017
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