Third places: a necessary asset for society, and yet one that is only perceived and appreciated in its absence. At a third place, you might go out with your peers, you might bump into someone you know, or you might meet someone new. With the coming of the 21st century and all that it entails – technological advancements, sociopolitical developments, and unfortunate pandemic outbreaks alike – those third places are being less and less frequently used, at least in the real (not digital) world. These spaces, apart from fostering community, have also historically been the cornerstone of discussion, exchange of ideas, and conversation – the proverbial “living room” of society. It is a place where we can affirm our identity while developing empathy and understanding for those different from our own, and their decline is negatively affecting our psyche as well as modern democracy.
Sociologist Ray Oldenburg originally developed the phrase “Third Place” in his book The Great Good Place in the late 1980s. He identifies three primary “places” in society where people live: the first is their house, the second is their place of employment, and the third is those warm environments that nurture connections between individuals. However, the significance and influence of these spaces were illustrated way before they were identified by Oldenburg.
Coffee houses saw their heyday in 17th-century England, where they went from a place serving a “bitter, back beverage” to becoming precursors of modern democracy. Through these spaces, people from various socioeconomic classes were able to interact on equal footing, overcoming obstacles related to ideology, occupation, and class. Their welcoming environment, affordability and opportunity for sober discussion compared to the bars or taverns of the time, fostered something so unassumingly valuable to society that even King Charles II’s attempt to suppress them resulted in a public outcry. Third spaces promoted civic involvement without the formality or structure of political institutions, providing a basis for community-driven and grassroots movements.
Third places remain essential in contemporary democracies. They utilise social capital to combat the polarisation and alienation that threaten civic cohesion. They offer a platform for inclusive discourse, enabling individuals with contrasting opinions to have meaningful discussions and humanise opposing points of view. For instance, local cafés provide areas for impromptu social connections, and libraries provide a neutral forum for conversation.
In a world increasingly mediated by digital screens, in-person interactions in public spaces are a potent remedy to the echo chambers and anonymity of online discourse. They not only provide a sense of community but also act as catalysts for cooperation and civic duty. The 21st century has witnessed a stark decline in those spaces that can be attributed to various sociopolitical and economic events we have experienced as humans over these 24 years of the new millennium. And no, it’s not only “those damn phones,” although they’ve had their fair share to do with this.
Locally owned cafés, small bookshops, and corner pubs have vanished as urbanisation and suburban sprawl have reorganised cities to favour private and commercial areas over public ones. Indeed, budget cuts affect public areas like parks and libraries, making them less accessible and appealing.
This decline was further exacerbated by the COVID-19 epidemic, as lockdowns and social distancing policies caused many third places to temporarily close, permanently harming their viability. Public trust in shared physical spaces declined as a result of health concerns, and small companies that served as community centres frequently struggled to recover, if they ever did. Concurrently, the pandemic accelerated the shift from the analogue to the digital world, normalising virtual meetings and diminishing the perceived value of physical third places. As these spaces disappeared, communities’ chances for informal, inclusive social contacts dwindled, undermining the unofficial networks that underpin democratic participation.
However, on top of the aforementioned, the eradication of third places is a byproduct of a culture obsessed with status and productivity. The normalisation of working from home – a habit developed during the pandemic – has blurred the lines between the first and second places and melted them together into something closer to a mentally exhausting “one-and-a-half”. Consequently, as we are constantly chasing professional goals and academic validation, we desperately search for a remedy to maintain our cognitive and emotional well-being. We are in dire need of spaces where we can have carefree conversations, “where we can be spontaneous and have serendipitous experiences, meet strangers.”
Without the opportunity to engage with people in low-pressure situations, communities lose the mutual respect and understanding necessary to bridge the gap, making people more susceptible to radicalisation in online echo chambers. The decline of third places has had a significant impact on democracy by escalating polarisation and fostering the emergence of extremist ideologies. The recent rise of far-right movements throughout Europe is indicative of this dynamic. Driven by nationalist rhetoric and anti-immigration policies, the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party has acquired substantial support and ranked as the second most popular political force in Germany in 2023. Similarly, Marine Le Pen’s National Rally party has remained powerful in France, illustrating a larger pattern of alt-right populism that takes advantage of social divisions. The results of recent US elections, with a victory for the Republicans, who have campaigned with significantly radical policies regarding immigration and abortion rights, highlight the global effect of this trend. These forces further erode democratic norms by thriving on alienation and the breakdown of social bonds. Such ideologies have flourished due to the absence of inclusive third places that encourage diverse discourse, eroding the social cohesion necessary for democratic resilience.
Having said all that, this article is by no means suggesting that the revival of third places is the all-encompassing solution to the perceived worldwide democratic decline exemplified by recent events, nor is it aiming to demonise internet spaces or a well-deserved day of remote work. However, advocating as citizens for the revival of third places is a strategic investment in the foundations of our democracies. Governments and urban planners could prioritize spaces that encourage spontaneous interactions, from libraries doubling as community hubs to public squares designed for gathering. Local businesses should also embrace their role in this revival by holding events like trivia nights, book clubs, or even contentious (but amicable) arguments over trivial matters like pineapple pizza (scuzi, Italians), which is an underappreciated form of civic engagement. Universities could also establish welcoming environments to connect students with locals, overcoming ideological and generational barriers, especially in cases of international students. In the end, universities are frequently the cradle of both revolutionary ideas and, well, controversial hairstyles.
The above initiatives aren’t just utopian aspirations; they’re tangible steps toward rebuilding social trust. After all, if democracy revives just like it began, in conversation, we need places where we can sit, enjoy a snack or a drink, and talk. Because let’s face it: saving democracy is a lot easier with coffee in hand.
Featured image by Gül Işık.
