Before the pandemic, a group of friends and I found ourselves in a cafe during a rainstorm. We got some coffee, started talking, and then a guy approached me and offered to play a game of chess. I knew nothing about strategy beyond how each piece moved, but I still gave it a shot. The game went well, I lost, of course, both of our friend groups chatted for a bit, and we all went our merry way. Today, that cafe is closed. Permanently. It also used to be a hub for weekly meetings of aspiring writers. A similar encounter could happen in any other cafe today, I guess, but I still look at it through the lens of disappearing third places. I feel like after the pandemic, I just don’t hang out with friends and strangers as much as I used to, and it’s mostly because there are so few places to do so. Even as a raging introvert, I miss being with and around people. Online spaces are ripe with jokes like “The people yearn for community,” but it’s not really a joke, is it? We are social beings and need human connection, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to find it. Some people are taking matters into their own hands and opening social clubs in their saunas and backyards, but shouldn’t local governments also take responsibility and make it easier for us to gather in communities? Bored Panda decided to dive into the complex issue of third places: why are they disappearing, how and why certain communities are disproportionately pushed out of them, and how we can battle crippling loneliness by coming together and creating such places for ourselves. We spoke with mental health experts, sociologists, and community organizers to get to the bottom of the issue and hear their ideas for solving our loneliness problem. Ivan S / Pexels (not the actual photo) In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General declared that more than half of Americans experience significant levels of loneliness and announced that we’re officially in a loneliness epidemic. More and more people spend significant time scrolling on their phones, staying online, and watching TV and movies on streaming services from the comfort of their homes instead of going to the cinema with friends. At the same time, many places where people would meet, catch up, and do something together are disappearing. Allie Kochinsky, host of the Grandma's Silver podcast (@grandmillenniallifestyle) with a background in anthropology, says that historically, human connection was never an afterthought — it was built into the physical landscape. “From an anthropological view, when we lose third places, we don't just lose a building; we lose the daily habits and community rituals that keep us human,” she tells Bored Panda. “We had porch culture, town squares, and local halls designed for connection.” Darina Belonogova / Pexels (not the actual photo) Nowadays, she says, community spaces have become commercialized. “We've traded free civic spaces for membership-only establishments. If you don't buy a latte or pay a monthly fee, you don't have a place to sit. When we stop designing physical spaces for casual hospitality, the habits of community life dry up.” Back in the day, friendships and connections developed naturally — people didn’t even have to look for them. As licensed counselor Matthew Schubert, LPC, notes, people used to form relationships accidentally. “I doubt that many people sat down one day and said, ‘I need to make friends.’ Rather, you went into the same spaces repeatedly (church, a kids’ play area at the community center, the local YMCA, the gathering after your rec league game, etc.) and formed relationships with people because you saw them regularly,” he explained to Bored Panda. Today, we have to make an effort to find community, and some places that were available in the past are simply no longer there. Last year, Axios reported that about 15,000 churches in the U.S. were at risk of closing because people are becoming increasingly religiously unaffiliated. Only 19% of Americans played a team sport in 2020, and 24% say they would be “somewhat likely” to join a rec league. And about 21% of American adults are childfree, so it’s not like they can make friends at their kids’ soccer games. Pavel Danilyuk / Pexels (not the actual photo) When we have to consciously seek community and friendships, it just might get too hard. Dr. Ben Garrett, a registered clinical counselor in British Columbia, says that sometimes we don’t even notice that we’re isolating from the rest of the world. “People are gravitating towards social media or watching television as an easier way of entertainment or leisure time. It costs less money, does not require you to drive anywhere, does not require arranging times with friends and does not require you to take a chance and chat up someone new at a local community venue,” he observes. “We gravitate towards what is easier in life.” But this kind of isolation, according to him, is the most dangerous. “When people travel to other countries, they quickly realize that people are more friendly and willing to open up a conversation but there is less and less of that happening in North America.” Getty Images / Unsplash (not the actual photo) You might say — can’t digital spaces fill this gap? Reddit, Tumblr, and even TikTok or Twitch can be great places to find your own community based on your interests and hobbies, can they not? Unfortunately, experts say that digital spaces can never fully replace real-life conversations, activities, and human connection. Dr. Ben Garrett tells Bored Panda that digital spaces can and do help people feel more connected, but he notices in his practice, especially with younger people, that it does little to help with things like social anxiety. According to him, young people are very connected online, but have so few real-life interactions that they become nervous just talking with people. “Digital spaces can provide genuine connection, particularly for people who are geographically isolated, have disabilities, or feel uncomfortable in traditional social environments. For these people, it makes sense,” he says. “But there is something truly healing about repeatedly seeing the same people in a physical space.” Hobby clubs, for example, provide a certain routine. “You see the same people, have small conversations, develop familiarity and eventually become part of each other's lives,” Garrett explains. “Much of that happens without anyone deliberately trying to make a friendship.” Eduardo Ramos / Unsplash (not the actual photo) As an alternative to physical meetings, digital communities also lack spontaneity. Linda Whiteside, LPCC, a Primary Therapist at NuView Treatment Center, tells Bored Panda that it’s difficult to recreate spontaneous conversations and a deep sense of belonging through a screen. “I think digital spaces can be a meaningful alternative for connecting people. I see this with my patients who often connect with their group therapy buddies via telehealth,” she notes. “However, I'd still favor in-person gatherings as much as possible.” Justin Gurland, LMSW, and founder of The Maze, an alcohol-free private members club in New York City, agrees that third places are where spontaneous, off-the-cuff conversations and experiences happen. “Online, you generally have to make a conscious decision to log on, send a message or join a conversation,” he tells Bored Panda. “In a physical third place, connection can happen simply because you showed up. I think the strongest communities often use digital tools to facilitate connection, but ultimately give people opportunities to spend time together in person,” he explains. Getty Images / Unsplash (not the actual photo) In some cases, third places might exist, but that doesn’t mean that they’re accessible to everyone. Research shows that rural and predominantly Black, Latino, and low-income population areas have fewer third places. The contrast is especially stark when comparing majority Latino communities with areas with little to no Latino residents — they have 82% and 86% fewer third places. Even parks serving neighborhoods of color are half as large and serve five times as many residents as parks in white neighborhoods. Former clinical psychologist and founder of TulaSoul, Dr. Jo L., PsyD, says that the cost of activities in third places is the number one barrier. “A gathering may be advertised as open to everyone, but fees, transportation, timing, and uncertainty about whether someone will belong can make the invitation feel out of reach.” Emma Kaczmarek / Pexels (not the actual photo) According to Allie Kochinsky, belonging to a community has almost become a luxury today. “Rural towns and majority-Black neighborhoods face the steepest closures of public spaces,” she says. “But what fascinates me is these communities' survival instinct. Because they're often shut out of high-cost digital spaces, they're forced to reinvent gathering out of sheer necessity, shifting community life to the porches of local businesses or churches.” “They're fighting to keep traditional, face-to-face hospitality alive, but they are doing it under strain. When local governments underfund parks and historic centers, they aren't just cutting budgets; they are stripping away the anchors that prevent social isolation.” Hatice Baran / Pexels (not the actual photo) James Anderson owns Forged Axe Throwing with two locations in Victoria and Whistler, BC, where he runs weekly leagues alongside corporate and walk-in bookings. He admits the biggest reason third places are disappearing is that we have started charging people for belonging. “I run an axe-throwing venue, and the most honest thing I can tell you is that a $30 league fee built a real community for the people who could pay it, and quietly locked out the people who couldn't,” he tells Bored Panda. That’s why businesses, local governments, and community members all have their parts to play in saving third places. Dr. Jo L. lists the things all three can do: Local governments can offer free meeting space in libraries and community centers, extend evening hours, support transit access, and fund small recurring gatherings. Businesses can sponsor room costs, refreshments, or sliding-scale places without turning the event into a sales pitch. Community organizers can make the first visit easier by naming what to expect, welcoming newcomers personally, offering hybrid access when useful, and asking participants what would make it possible for them to come back. Centre for Ageing Better / Pexels (not the actual photo) Allie Kochinsky, like a true anthropologist, says that we need to protect walkable neighborhoods and protect physical landmarks to help communities preserve their identity. “We should treat historic buildings, parks, and public libraries like vital infrastructure, just like roads or water.” Dr. Ben Garrett echoes the earlier sentiment that governments should increase funding and businesses should treat third places like more than just a cash cow. But he says community members should also be as engaged as they can. “In some of the communities where I lived, there are lots of great community programs that are just not well-attended and governments and businesses can only justify so much for their funding or investment into the programs,” he notes. Justin Gurland, founder of The Maze, adds that many puzzle pieces have to fall into place for people to find the kind of third place that speaks to them. “You can build the most beautiful gathering space in the world, but community happens when people keep showing up for one another.” cottonbro studio / Pexels (not the actual photo)
