The Collapse of Community: Are We Too Lazy to Belong
We crave connection, but we’ve stopped putting in the effort-has convenience killed real communities?
The curation of an online community has become an obsession for many creators. While “community” once signified real-life bonds, it now primarily refers to digital spaces that share the same thoughts, hobbies, or aesthetics. There’s a sense of relief in finding an online community—connecting with like-minded people, relating to shared experiences, and feeling a sense of belonging without fear of judgment. If online communities are everywhere, why do many of us feel more lonely than ever?
We’ve been sold the idea that we are part of something greater online. However, these so-called communities are often personal brands, built by one brave individual creating a space for their ideas. In reality, we as the followers are bystanders, not participants. The people we rally behind, and the voices we find comfort in vanish when we step away from our devices. We are left alone in our homes, disconnected from the very causes and movements that felt so important just a moment before.
Historically, a community has required mutual effort, accountability, and shared stakes. At its soul, true community isn’t just about common interests. It’s about a shared physical space where people actively participate and connect through authentic experiences. Online, we have the luxury of logging off, abandoning causes, or remaining passive observers without any real responsibility to contribute to the common interests of a community. While digital platforms give us a space to express our thoughts and interests, they lack the depth in lived experience. Especially, the parts of interaction, care, and physical contact that foster genuine connection. The real issue isn’t just the medium. It’s the passivity it encourages, allowing people to engage without ever truly showing up, contributing, or taking ownership of the spaces they inhabit.
It has become effortless to engage online, express opinions from the comfort of one’s room and type comments behind the safety of a screen. This ease has made us forget the effort it takes to connect in person. It takes effort to be authentic, and vulnerable, and to participate in the world around us. Yet, it feels overwhelming, as connection has been rebranded with online terms: like, follow, and repost. Despite all this, I have yet to meet someone who truly prefers digital interaction over real-life connection. People are now going viral simply for organizing dinner clubs, hosting hikes, or creating activities for large friend groups. The irony is clear: in an age of hyperconnectivity, the most radical act might just be fostering in-person community activities.
The effort it takes to show up, be real, and actively participate brings the same kind of satisfaction that algorithms trick us into chasing. Algorithms decide what we see, shaping our choices and interactions online. But in the same way, authenticity and real-world participation shape the reality we live in. Except this time, we’re the ones in control.
That effort brings depth, something we’ve lost in a digital world obsessed with personal brands and niche influencers. The real magic of human interaction lies in its complexity, but media has flattened us, turning people into one-dimensional versions of themselves. We look past the layers that actually matter—history, culture, philosophy, religion, family background—because the digital world demands simplified narratives. But the true magic lies in those layers. That’s what builds real communities. The beauty of connection isn’t in likeness. It's in the sharing of what makes us human.
The internet offers the illusion of connection while stripping away the very stakes that make community real. We share more, engage more, yet find ourselves more disconnected than ever. The true transformation of online communities will happen when they move offline. When a connection becomes an experience, not just an idea. In the end, the most valuable communities will be the ones that exist beyond the screen, spaces where people come together consistently, build relationships, and show up for each other. True community requires risk, effort, and real-world interaction. It’s time to be braver, more vulnerable, and, most importantly, more active in building communities where we live. I hope after this, you’ll be inspired to take part and more initiative in communities around you. If you can’t find one you love, maybe you can create one.
As a personal challenge, I’ve committed to creating community activities every week, hosting spaces for new and old friends, and prioritizing real-life engagement. If you want to follow the journey and see how you can integrate these into your week as well, make sure to subscribe and stay tuned!
