It’s a Wonderful Life endures as an American Christmas tradition not because it is sentimental, but because it tells an uncomfortable truth about what Americans have traded away. The 1946 film, now approaching its 80th year, depicts the human ecology of life that modern America has systematically dismantled in the name of efficiency, economy, mobility, and progress. Bedford Falls is not just a setting; it is an argument for a human-scaled society in which community, responsibility, and sacrifice matter more than ambition detached from place.

Well, Bedford Falls is built like towns were built before the cult of the automobile destroyed American urbanism. You can walk around Bedford Falls. George Bailey, the film’s hero, works in Bedford Falls. The focus of his life is Bedford Falls.

Bedford Falls is run by Bedford Falls locals. The town pharmacy is run by Mr. Gower. It’s not CVS Store #7841. Ernie Bishop can make a living from his taxi. It’s not a gig he has to tack on to another job in the hopes of making ends meet. Even evil Mr. Potter runs “Potter’s Bank,” not the local branch of Citibank.

Sentimentalism for times gone by forever? Or a recognition that E. F. Schumacher was right when he wrote that, even in economics, “small is beautiful”?

And let’s look at George Bailey. He’s what I’d call Tocqueville’s quintessential American. He’s involved in his community. No bowling alone for Bailey.

When Potter tries a new tactic—getting Bailey to join him if he can’t beat him—he flatters him by talking about his talents and ambitions before turning the tables on that “frustrated young man.” He knows George’s dream was the big time, but he never got out of Bedford Falls.

Yes, if George Bailey were egocentrically ambitious, he might have left that little town. And most likely, the effect would not have been dissimilar from the dystopia revealed when George gets his wish, as if “I’d never been born.” Faced with that reality, the truth of George Bailey comes out. He’s not the ambitious guy in it for himself; he’s the man-for-others.

He’s the man who—to steal from Charles Dickens—knows that “any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness.” “Building things” like bridges may capture the world’s attention in ways running a building and loan in a sleepy town won’t, but if the value of things is the people they serve, the effort will be markedly worth it.

George is a man who recognizes the value of sacrifice. Sacrifice, in fact, is so soaked into his bones that he doesn’t recognize it. When he doesn’t explicitly think about it, he thinks it’s normal. Even heaven understands that about George: when Clarence the guardian angel needs a ruse to stop George from killing himself, he throws himself into the river, knowing George’s instinctual reaction will be to forget himself and help the other.

His readiness to help others extends even to “hurting” himself. The “kitty” of money he and Mary would have spent on a honeymoon kept financial pluralism—in the form of the Bailey Building and Loan—alive in Bedford Falls without a federal bailout. Can you imagine George foreclosing on Mr. Martini? Or Bailey Park popping in a real estate bubble?

Another critical, often overlooked side of the film: kids. The only fully developed characters in the film are those with kids: Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, Sr., and Mr. and Mrs. George Bailey. Everybody else kind of just has a function; the Baileys have lives. And it’s those multigenerational lives—in the form of his wife and Zuzu’s flower petals—that are the things that finally keep George hanging on to life.

George Bailey may not be the model Christian in every way – his own prayer admits as much – but he is in many important ways.  So, before you dismiss It’s a Wonderful Life as just some kind of “feel-good sentimentality,” ask yourself: What is its vision of life? And isn’t it a vision you want to share?

Maybe that’s your New Year’s resolution….

Image: Public domain.