How We Lose Community—and Find It Again

How many people say the best time of their life was college? That friends were so easy to make in school and then adulthood became lonely? Where did all our friends go?

I was listening to Derek Thompson talk to Ryan Burge on his podcast Plain English, about the mirage of an explosion in Christianity in America, and near the end of the episode, Derek spoke about the concept that vertical pressure creates deep community. What he means is that, the more intense the shared experience, the tighter the bonds of those who endure it.

The strongest community imaginable? Navy Seals. The crew of Artemis II.

A strong community? Co-workers at a scrappy fast paced start-up. Fraternity brothers who survived absurd and embarrassing hazing. Freshmen at college, all living away from home for the first time, discovering a new city together.

A weak community? Old friends who live across town for each other who text back and forth ‘we’ve got to get together girl! I haven’t seen you in ages. How’s three weeks from now?’

When adult life is all procured comfort, going to bed exactly when you want, eating what you want, doing what you want, seeing friends only when you’re in the exact right mood and have had it planned for weeks… if the goal is removing all discomfort and unpredictability… we become a collection of petty little needs. And we sit on our expensive couches and wonder what happened to the electric charge of life.

This is why I love my writing retreats so much. Because for a weekend, or a week in Alaska, we choose a little vertical pressure around shared interests. We get away from our routines and put our bodies in a smidge of discomfort and unpredictability. This shared uncertainty, and dangerous vulnerability, creates a profound sense of camaraderie.

I think we should seek out a little vertical pressure each year. You never know what life long friends you’ll find in the squeeze.

I’ll end with a favorite George Bernard Shaw quote that seems to smear icing on all of this:

“This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one. Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.”

Live like that, and you’ll find yourself rich in friends.

This piece was originally published in Jedidiah's Substack.