by Joe Miller,
Director of Development
We’ve officially turned the corner into the fall of an election year. Yard signs are beginning to appear. The airwaves are full of ads.
And yet, if history holds true, two of every five eligible voters will fail to cast a vote on election day. In fact, the last time more than 80% of eligible voters turned out for a presidential election: 1888, when Republican Benjamin Harrison defeated incumbent Democrat Grover Cleveland.
In 1995, a political scientist named Robert Putnam wrote a very influential essay that examined why civic engagement—meaning, things like participating in elections – had fallen off in the United States. Putnam’s essay, titled “Bowling Alone: America’s Declining Social Capital,” argues that the underlying problem is that Americans have reduced in-person social interactions.
Putnam’s central example—the one that gives the essay its name—is that Americans stopped bowling in leagues. Putnam points out that over a 13-year period, the number of people bowling increased by 10%. But over that same time, membership in bowling leagues decreased by 40%. Americans were bowling more, but they were bowling alone, not with others. (You might think bowling is a silly example. But Putnam mentions that more Americans bowled in 1994—the year he wrote his essay—than voted in the midterm elections held that year!)
Putnam notes similar declines across an array of social groups—church attendance, union membership, fraternal organizations (e.g., the Lion’s Club), civic organizations (e.g., the Federation of Women’s Clubs), PTA membership and Red Cross volunteers all had at least double-digit reductions in members. Several declined by more than half.
These trends have accelerated in the years since Putnam’s essay. The internet pushed many of our interactions online. COVID further pushed us away from crowds.
The result is that we spend less time than ever in what sociologists call third places.
The idea of the third place comes from Ray Oldenberg’s 1989 book The Great Good Place. Oldenburg defines the first place as a person’s home. The second place is your workplace—where many people spend a large percentage of their waking hours.
The third place is a spot where you relax in public.
Third places have several features. They’re places you choose to be. They treat everyone as an equal. They make us comfortable, aren’t pretentious, have a cast of regulars and provide space for casual, playful conversation.
The bar at Cheers and the couch at Central Perk that much of Friends revolves around are idealized third places.
Many of the social interactions that were once so common revolved around third places. The church, the union hall, the lodge—they all provided spaces where we would interact with others even outside of official events. When we stopped joining these groups, we lost access to their third places.
It’s no wonder that by the time Cheers and Friends aired, the only plausible third places were bars and coffee shops—places where you are expected to buy something in exchange for access.
You might wonder why it matters whether Americans join lots of things. The answer is that there appears to be a pretty strong relationship between social engagement and trust of our fellow citizens.
Putnam notes that in 1963, around 58% of Americans said that most people can be trusted. By 1993, that number was down to 37%. In 2019, only 22% of Americans were “high trusters.”
This probably shouldn’t be surprising. When we stop talking to one another, we stop trusting one another.
One of the things I love about the library is that it’s one of the few remaining third places that is completely, entirely free to attend.
You can use anything in the building while you’re there. You can take most of it home with you if you want. You can meet your friends there. Schedule activities in our community rooms.
It’s a place where everyone is welcome and where you can interact with everyone on an equal footing.
So, stop by your local branch.
Meet the regulars.
We’re always glad you came.