A version of this story was originally published in The La Salle Falconer.
If you’re not at home or at school (or work), where can you go and just be? If no particular spot comes to mind, you may be in need of a “third place.”
The term was coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg in his 1989 book “The Great Good Place,” and refers to what he called “informal public gathering spaces.” He argued that these settings — which could be a library, a coffee shop, a church, a community center, or something else — are a necessary complement to home, on the one hand, and work or school on the other. He believed third places provide social glue because they enable community, connection, and spontaneity. When done right, they expose us to people and perspectives we might not have encountered otherwise, building bridges, all without the expectation of labor or purchase.
Yet across the U.S., third places are disintegrating — along with our ability to use many of the ones that remain. And the fallout is damaging for everything from our physical and mental health to the core things that make us human. The causes range from suburban design to the corporate takeover of these gathering spaces to social media replacing face-to-face connection. This decline is detrimental — but each one of us can take steps to reverse it.
One of the oft-overlooked reasons for the decline of third places is built into the landscape itself, at least when it comes to suburbs. Suburbs are often designed with an emphasis on private property — homes, cars, and the like — rather than community gathering centers or vertical and mixed-use urban spaces. They’re also laid out horizontally, prioritizing personal space (and lots of it!) over mingling and interaction. Parks, when those are accessible, are increasingly being designed to discourage lingering and loitering, using tactics like anti-homeless benches or limited seating in public areas that also have the effect of discouraging extended socializing.
When suburbs do have a reasonable amount of third places, they’re increasingly ones that are transactional in nature — like strip malls, outlets, and parking lots — or recreational facilities like golf courses, gyms, or country clubs. These venues often come with membership fees, which create an automatic economic barrier to participation.
And everywhere, not just suburbia, private or corporate third spaces like cafés, bars, or bookstores discourage non-customers from entry. Starbucks is a key example. Until January 2025, the coffee chain prided itself on adhering to Oldenburg’s third-place concept, welcoming patrons to sit and stay regardless of whether they’d made a purchase. This pressure to buy something or leave, which is on the rise elsewhere too, often excludes those who can’t afford it. (And that is only becoming more relevant as Americans struggle with rising costs and a shaky job market.)
There are both economic and cultural issues at play when it comes to the sustainability of third places.
Rising rent costs, financial strain from the pandemic era, and competition from large chains have forced the closure of many small, independent businesses that historically served as community hubs. Sometimes, they have been replaced with supposedly community-centered urban revitalization projects that end up displacing lower-income residents and transforming informal gathering spots into high-cost locales.
There’s also been a shift in how people socialize since the pandemic: Even after restrictions were lifted, many people remained hesitant to return to public spaces. Isolation has been normalized, eroding the use of these spaces.
For all of these reasons, third places have suffered — and their erosion is contributing to a fast-growing loneliness crisis. In 2023, U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy issued a stark warning, declaring that America is in an “epidemic of loneliness and isolation.” In a report from the Department of Health and Human Services, Murthy explained what’s at stake when we lose the kind of social connection that third places make possible.
“In recent years, about 1-in-2 adults in America reported experiencing loneliness,” Murthy said in his advisory letter. Loneliness, he explained, is more serious than just having an off day, carrying serious medical consequences — higher risk of heart disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and early death.
“The mortality impact of being socially disconnected is similar to that caused by smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day, and even greater than that associated with obesity and physical inactivity,” Murthy said. “And the harmful consequences of a society that lacks social connection can be felt in our schools, workplaces, and civic organizations, where performance, productivity, and engagement are diminished.”
Something that’s unlikely to solve this loneliness epidemic is social media, which often masquerades as a modern third place. While digital platforms promise community, they deliver a pale imitation of genuine human interaction, researchers say. Oldenburg agreed. “The idea that electronic communication permits a virtual third place is misleading,” he wrote. “When you go to a third place you essentially open yourself up to whoever is there. And they may be very different from you… If you spend time with people you’re not going to hate them, it’s just that simple.”
Social media virtual spaces are carefully curated, algorithmic echo chambers that filter out the spontaneity and unpredictability of real-world encounters and make it harder to reach beyond that insular bubble. While not impossible, it is an uphill climb to find people and accounts whose opinions and perspectives contrast your own in earnest, rather than those who are trying to troll or misinform.
The internet may have spurred conversations, but it cannot replicate the subtle dance of in-person human communication. When people aren’t face-to-face, they aren’t self aware. Body language, impromptu jokes, the shared experience of physical space — these are all lost in digital translation.
What we ought to do, in a world of ever-increasing digital isolation, is get back to the basics of creating third places. Start by looking beyond your immediate social circle and at your physical surroundings with fresh eyes. Everything from a centered hallway with a bench to the corners of a cafeteria can become unexpected third places if you approach them with openness and curiosity. These aren’t just spaces — they’re opportunities for genuine connection that can be enjoyed by people of every age.
Challenge yourself to put your phone away during breaks. Strike up conversations with acquaintances you don’t know well yet. Explore school and work spaces you’ve never visited before. Join or create local groups that pursue talents and interests. Tell leaders we need them to facilitate the creation of these spaces — through urban planning and policies that support economic growth instead of downturns — and hold them accountable to it. Most importantly, be the catalyst to create third places wherever you can.
From cafés to community centers, gyms to churches, and barber shops to your local library, every space around us is brimming with potential for third-place material. But third places don’t make themselves; we make them. Every meaningful connection starts with someone willing to step out of their comfort zone, set aside their devices, and genuinely engage with the people around them.
Community is fragile, sustained only through our collective action. And if we fail to tend to it — if we allow life to wither into parking lots, paywalls, and pixels — we may wake up to a world that feels utterly empty, devoid of the simple, human art of being together.