If Western tonalistic music was inaugurated with the publication of Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Treatise on Harmony in 1722–a commonly accepted date–then it has now been with us for nearly 300 years. It has been expressed in many different genres, from Baroque, to Classical, to jazz, Tin Pan Alley, and the blues. Yet no matter what garments it wears, no matter how it has been modified and expanded within various musical styles, the eight-tone major/minor scale system with its primarily dominant-tonic harmony has been the underpinning of virtually all popular music.

I don’t see that changing anytime soon. Not that it needs to; I just can’t fathom how it could do so in any meaningful way. Note the word meaningful. Modern composers have long experimented with alternatives to traditional harmony. It’s just that you don’t find most Americans or Europeans whistling Schoenberg or Indian ragas as they stroll down the sidewalk. And while the rise of “world music” (whatever exactly that is) has awakened at least some Western ears to other possibilities, it can’t match the extent to which Western tonalism has influenced other cultures. I mean, you tell me the difference between Mexican banda music and polka, other than the language. And more contemporarily, popular artists in Asian and Eastern cultures have been founding their careers on the major/minor scale system while preserving distinctive musical elements of their own cultures and languages. (Don’t ask me to name any of these artists; I just know what I’ve listened to on NPR!)

I found myself thinking about the persistence and ubiquity of Western tonalism as I stood in church last Sunday listening to our worship team play. It struck me how the same tonal relationships not only have been repackaged a seemingly infinite number of times over the centuries, but also how, unless our culture somehow undergoes a complete musical sea change, those same relationships and harmonic formulae will continue to come at us in literally millions of new songs over the coming decades.

That’s not a bad thing. Rather, it’s a necessary thing. We are steeped in tonalism, not just intellectually but also emotionally. Other approaches may intrigue us, particularly those of us who are jazz musicians and like to reach for different colors and fresh possibilities. But tonalism provides a gut-level sense of center that all of us innately desire, and a vocabulary by which we all can relate to the stories that melody tells.

Tonalism is in some respects similar to a spoken language. Languages evolve, but they do so slowly and they do so around the edges. The core remains, must remain as a context for any changes to be understood. That’s true of music. While we’re free to experiment, yet the more abstract our experimentation gets, the more that it obscures the core, then the less likely it will be to speak meaningfully to the world at large. I’m all for creative exploration; I’m just pointing out that the average American who cut his or her teeth on Billy Ray Cyrus or Stevie Ray Vaughan isn’t likely to stray far afield when it comes to listening habits. Most folks prefer stuff that’s accessible, visceral, and familiar.

While technology is racing along in seven league boots, other aspects of our world remain the same. Western tonalism may undergo cosmetic changes, but it still is what it is. It may get stretched, it may try on different clothes, but a flatted fifth will remain a flatted fifth by virtue of how it relates to the 12 tones of the chromatic scale.

Why did I write about this topic? Because I’m struck not only by the enduring nature of tonalism, but also by our amazing penchant for personalizing it. You’d think we’d have exhausted the possibilities long ago, but uniqueness continues to drift like snowflakes out of the tonal ether. As I stand singing in church, the tune may be the beloved old hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy,” written nearly 200 years ago, or it may be the recent creation of some contemporary Christian artist. Either way, the tonal foundation is the same. Two hundred years from now, if our Lord tarries and we humans haven’t outright wiped ourselves out, the music we sing will probably still be tonal in its foundations. As with the wheel, zippers, and apple pie, there’s just no need for some things to change.