Community in the Digital Age

What is community and how do we get it back?

Walking around my lovely uptown neighbourhood in Toronto is one of my favourite things to do. Everyone says they love this part of the city: a dense tree canopy, beautiful homes, great schools. All true. But something is missing, and walking the lovely streets makes it obvious what it is: community. Most people I pass have earbuds in, listening to their favourite podcast. About half the people give me a quick nod as we cross paths. But nobody stops to chat. There is no community here.

Paradoxically, by the time I return home from my hour-long walk, I have almost a dozen new messages on my smartphone, some from friends, others from colleagues at work. I could have stopped along my walk to answer them, but in an attempt to be less distracted, I’ve turned off almost all notifications. Besides, what’s the point in a neighbourhood walk if I’m only communicating with people explicitly not from my neighbourhood? We’re constantly being drawn to connect digitally, pulling us away from the traditional notion of community. The face-to-face kind.

There are many reasons for this situation, from technology to urban planning to the decline of organized religion. Religion gave people a “third place”, beyond home and office, to meet people on a regular basis. Restaurants, bars, coffee shops, and community centres haven’t succeeded at taking over, as most people in these spaces don’t interact with those they don’t already know. Urban planning has given us the suburbs, where most people drive to and from their homes without ever interacting with their neighbours. And technology keeps us focused on our phones, especially when we’re not in the presence of someone we know.

Let’s take a step back. What is community? It’s not our close friends, family, or loved ones. It’s the “loose connections”. People we see on a regular basis, who we talk to, catch-up with, and even care about. Some of these people may become friends, but they don’t need to. They are people we do things with. But what things? That’s a critical question.

An example of an answer is community gardening. I know, not what you were expecting, but stick with me. A recent Strong Town interview revealed that in Denver, more than 200 community gardens are producing 650,000 pounds of food per year. That’s a lot of food! But more importantly to the point of our time here together, all of that food is being produced by volunteers. People who are spending lots of time together on a regular basis. Community! We’ve found it. A common goal and shared purpose. A substitute for organized religion that draws people together.

There must be more examples out there, and new ideas too. Bike repair, cooking, home maintenance, language exchange, technology mentoring, other workshops. Anything that creates those loose connections we’re missing, the ones we need to build and sustain community.

Imagine going for a walk in your neighbourhood and passing folks you see every week or two at one of the above type of things. Even if you were listening to a podcast, you’d probably take out your eabuds to say hello and have a chat. It would just be chit-chat, and that’s fine. But over the months and years, you might share something more. Maybe your son is looking for a summer job, your mother needs someone to mow her lawn, your dog’s vet retired. And these loose connections are happy to help with suggestions, connections, advice.

Wouldn’t it feel great to have dozens or hundreds of people like that in your life? That’s the magic of community. One way to get there is to launch and sustain more of activities that naturally draw people together in a shared space. There’s certainly more to it than that, but it’s a good place to start.