A while ago I sent out a tweet that said “What is community? (not rhetorical, please respond).” I heard nothing. So either no one was listening to me at that moment (which is a very real possibility)...]]> A while ago I sent out a tweet that said “What is community? (not rhetorical, please respond).”  I heard nothing.  So either no one was listening to me at that moment (which is a very real possibility), or people don’t want or know how to engage with that question.

Community is a big part of the dialogue in the Transition Initiative.  In one of my posts about the Transition Initiative, a commenter asked what I meant by “community resilience.”  It’s a valid question – more than valid.  An absolutely crucial question.  I don’t know if there is a good answer.  But I suspect the fact that we are even asking the question means we have a problem.

In Which I Get All Geeky On You

I’m a big Babylon 5 fan.  It’s more or less a show about the United Nations, but with spaceships and aliens.  Epic.  In one episode, the Minbari (alien) Ambassador tells a reporter that her race was willing to work with Earth on the Babylon Project and build this cool interspecies space station because humans build communities.  If it had been any other alien species, she said, they would have kept Babylon 5 all for themselves.  But humans build communities.

And it’s true.  Community is a fundamental part of what it means to be human.  We are social.  We are tribal.  When we look around and ask what our community is, it’s a problem.  (Not to mention that we lose our coolness factor with the technologically superior alien races.)

Is Community Too Complicated?

Maybe we don’t know what community is because in the modern world, community has become too complicated.  What began with the industrial revolution, urbanization, and increased international communication via telephone and air travel expanded even further with the internet.  New, internet-based tribalism makes the concept of “community” infinitely vast.  It is increasingly easy to find a tribe.  But your tribe members may be scattered all over the world.  100 years ago, you never would have found each other.

Technology has also increased the range of tribes to which you can belong.  When you ask me what my community is, I hesitate to respond.  I belong to many communities, with varying degrees of involvement and interaction.  The answer I give is largely determined by who is asking.

Does Community Matter?

As far as Transition is concerned, community is all-important.  The Transition version of resilience – the degree to which a community, individual, or system can withstand a shock – is almost exclusively community-based.  And by community, they mean your geographic community, local community, a community which may have absolutely nothing to do with the new international tribes in which we find ourselves.

I find myself agreeing with the Transition Initiative about the importance of community.  In the face of the dual threats of peak oil and climate change, geographical communities absolutely matter.  In terms of our day-to-day quality of life, geographical communities matter.  In a sense, new tribes can (and have been?) a detriment to the development of strong local communities.  It’s easier to opt out than it has ever been, because now you can opt out of your local community without condemning yourself to social isolation.

But I think that our new, more complicated concept of community is also useful.  Aside from the obvious benefits of instantaneous global communication, our new tribes may allow us to become more ourselves than we have been in the past.  Less morphing or faking it to fit the mold.  More kindred spirits, even if not in close physical proximity.  If we let them, belonging to many communities can expand and refine our worldview, and strengthen our resolution and our voice.

In a time when apathy seems to be at an all time high, perhaps communities, whatever form they may take, will be the key to regaining conviction.

Related Posts:

• Transition: Resilience