Finding Community in 2026
By Louise Floyd
I often wonder about how my life would differ if I had been born one hundred years in the past or the future. I can somewhat picture material things in the past, for example the cutting-edge technology of the day or what food would have been available to buy. What I struggle to imagine is how I would have felt in my community. Community used to be much more limited by geography; now it can exist anywhere, including in online spaces. Nowadays, It feels like something you have to build, rather than automatically belong to. I wonder what community will mean to people in 2100 in the midst of cascading climate catastrophes.
When I talk to my Grandad who was born in 1939 about his life, I am simultaneously envious and not. He worked as a programmer in the same town almost all his working life. I, on the other hand, am living in my third city, having already had more than ten jobs at the age of twenty-four. The community of friends I had growing up has mostly moved away or friendships have drifted. Life feels fast-paced, it’s hard to build something solid when life is constantly moving.
Photo by John Cameron on Unsplash
There are certainly advantages to being young in 2026. Travel is much easier than in my Grandad’s youth, and there are more opportunities for education, employment and entertainment. Social media has also created entirely new ways to connect, although in its current form it feels exploitative and is damaging to our health. But this isn't an argument about which generation had it 'better', it's about how community has changed.
Currently, I find myself longing to really know a place as my own, to not constantly be looking elsewhere. Social media has a way of showing you thousands of lives you could be living and feeling that yours is somehow wrong. I think the feeling of ‘having’ community is a big part of belonging to a place. The strongest way I’ve experienced this since leaving university is in volunteering groups, especially ones with an environmental purpose. I feel I do not have to explain my fears about the world and climate change; it is just understood that we all get it. One of these groups for me was the Nature Recovery Network in Eynsham. I was only there briefly, before moving to Bristol to start a masters course, but it was one of those spaces where you just feel community. A common purpose, alignment with your values and working together outside is where I feel at my best. I don't think I'm alone in this. There seems to be a growing desire among Gen Z to seek out in-person spaces rather than online ones. Looking ahead, I expect shared environmental challenges will make local community even more important.
Nature Recovery Network’s hand-propagated Devil’s bit scabious in the nursery at Long Mead Local Wildlife Site
Now that I’ve moved to a new city, one where I’m really hoping to lay down roots, I want to really prioritise building a community. For me, this looks like joining my local community garden once a week and going to local community events - my first one of which was a screening of the National Emergency Briefing followed by a discussion about what we can do locally, I recommend to everyone to attend their local screening (find one here: https://www.nebriefing.org/screening-map).
I don't know what community will mean in a hundred years, or whether the way we build it now will survive the challenges ahead. Community might not happen as naturally as it once did, but perhaps that makes choosing to build it all the more important. In a world that is increasingly fast, mobile and connected, there is something quietly radical about simply staying somewhere, showing up, and getting to know the people around you.