For me, the appeal of Europe is more about how you live your everyday life and the things you place value on. This blog post about America from blogger Alex Balashov (aimed at Armenians who want to emigrate) covers a lot of what many of us feel are the downsides of America that seem better done in Europe:
https://likewise.am/2014/12/26/what-armenians-should-know-about-life-in-america/ Here's a taste for those who don't want to read the whole thing (highlights are mine):
"Much of the rest of the world takes for granted architectural principles of how to build life-affirming human settlements. These principles evolved over thousands of years, and it’s no accident that so many cultures reached the same conclusions. Urban Europeans, and indeed Armenians, are accustomed to vertical growth, mixed-use development (shops on first floor, apartments above), sidewalks, plazas, public squares and street cafes. These are the fixtures amidst which your halcyon childhood days played out, where you walked hand in hand with your first love, where you met friends for coffee, and hopped the train to work. It’s the corner with the pastry shop, it’s the supermarket down the street, and the bench in between.
Few people can prepare themselves for the degree to which Americans have, in the last half-century or so, taken this entire corpus of human experience and thrown it completely into the trash,
with the exception of a few older cities–not the places where the majority of Americans live. What has replaced it is a surreal moonscape. For those accustomed to the traditional urban civilisation, the primary question in America is: where do I go? What do I do?
Looking around leads to an intangible but intense realisation of emptiness. Suburbia is both a cause and an effect of the destruction of civic and community life in America: there’s increasingly little to come home to, and vanishingly little to go out to. This has real effects. Your children will have nowhere to play, as there is no courtyard full of friends; they will depend on your willingness to drive them (sometimes quite far) for prearranged “play dates”. You will not take leisurely strolls to admire the scenery, for there is neither admirable scenery nor anywhere to stroll. It’s likely that you won’t even know your neighbours. You certainly can’t venture downstairs for lettuce or milk; strict zoning codes have ensured that only residential structures can be built where you live, and you’ll have to drive a few miles to reach the commercial zone, where the grocery stores are.
The architect James Howard Kunstler does a good job of anatomising the essential problems of suburbia in this TED talk. I don’t necessarily share all of his ideological accents, but I think he’s summed up the general problem very nicely. The thing you have to realise when watching that video is that he’s not talking about a particular kind of neighbourhood; he’s talking about the overwhelming majority of the US, including places others are accustomed to thinking of as cities. Dallas, for instance, is not a city by the global standards. Much of it should probably be reclassified as a rural area.
In this atmosphere, the almighty car–still a matter of social status, prestige and perceived convenience in Armenia–falls from grace. It’s no longer a luxurious way to thumb your nose at the teeming masses. You are one of the teeming masses. A lot of your energy and money and will go toward the purchase and upkeep of a rapidly depreciating hunk of metal in which you will spend a significant fraction of your life, all alone. It’s only cool when most people don’t have one; when four wheels have replaced two feet, it’s just a needlessly expensive way to traverse pointlessly large distances of identical-looking road for unclear reasons.
It should go without saying that public transportation doesn’t exist in the US–at least, not by European standards. Unless you live in New York City, or well within the centres of Chicago or one or two other cities, you’ll need a car, and you’ll be spending a lot of time in it. Guaranteed.
For a culture as warm and sociable as that of Armenians, this is all anathema. Truly committed people can maintain friendships and connections across the most hostile landscapes, but so much of how we meet and relate to others is inextricably bound up in the convenience and opportunity in how we are situated. Physical layout cannot, by itself, either make one friends or hinder those who are determined to have them anyway. But it does matter. A lot.
Therefore, I’m moved to say that
one of the most important things about the US is that it’s lonely. They built it that way."