How coffee shops, bars, gyms, hairdressers and other ‘third places’ shape our social fabric

Social distancing during the COVID-19 pandemic has meant many painful losses. Among them are the so-calledthird places“– restaurants, bars, gyms, houses of worship, hairdressers and other places we visit frequently that are neither work nor home.

The third place is taken by the concept of sociology and urban planning, which recognizes the role these semi-public, semi-private spaces play a role in fostering social connections, community identity, and civic engagement. By giving people a familiar setting for social interaction among regulars, they encourage “attachment location“– that is, the bond between a person and a place.

Now, experiencing the coronavirus from the fortress of our living spaces, we can enjoy the feeling of being in a haven that protects us from this concealed modern enemy. But we have lost the social and psychological proximity of third places.

This is a significant loss. My three decades of research on urban spaces show that both public spaces and third places contribute to a well and booming society.

Places where you can feel at home

Third spaces have probably always existed. From participating in social clubs and religious gatherings to neighborhood festivals and funeral societies, people have long formed associations that unite groups.

Most of these associations reflected genealogical, religious, gender, cultural, or class homogeneity. They were often formed to fulfill social functions, such as raising funds or performing group tasks. They were not necessarily geographically located in a specific place.

Newfangled third places, however, are always based on space. When city ​​planners use this termthey mean a physical setting with a boundary or entrance designed to allow, or even encourage, access by a variety of people – like a coffee shop with a vivid sign and an open door.

Workers and regulars are part of the scene. But so are outsiders. While not as diverse or accessible as public spaces, third places rely on a certain amount of heterogeneity to convey social meaning and vitality.

In this way, the third places complement each other public space such as parks, squares, playgrounds, streets and sidewalks – free and open places that offer contact, cooperation and even conflict with a group of mostly unknown people.

If public spaces expand our social relationships and liberalize our worldviewThird places anchor us in a community where we are recognized and our needs are met. Third places are predictable and comfortable—an environment where we feel “at home.”

‘It is not the same’

Those who stayed at home now really miss their third places.

I recently spoke with a few youthful men who still gather at a local state park near my house. They shared pizzas, hidden from view. They told me how difficult it was not to be able to hang out at the pizzeria itself. This was their third place.

Grace, an older friend of mine from Manhattan, told me she feels “cut off” because she can’t go to a neighborhood restaurant where she knows the chef’s name, and she likes to sit at the bar after work.

I still drink coffee every morning at Golden Pear on the eastern tip of Long Island, where I live, wearing a mask and gloves. I would normally have breakfast there, exchanging greetings and speaking in English and Spanish with friends and staff.

Now I take my coffee to an empty beach to drink. It’s not the same.

As my friend Judy Ling Wong says I am observingfrom London, where she lives alone, this lockdown has been a time of “grave disorientation.”

Calling friends has an almost “ritualistic feel,” she writes. It’s done “to stay connected to social ties.”

Protected against coronavirus

Our collective loneliness during the pandemic exposes how dependent we are on each other for happiness—and how interconnected we are.

Robust societies depend on ongoing interaction between people who are different in many ways. Third places are great places for such interactions because our shared employ of their services—our love of coffee, music, or exercise—ensures that even strangers have at least one thing in common.

I researched people who live in gated communities – spaces devoid of such diverse interactions. I have found that even in supposedly sheltered spaces, they worry about crime and feel anxious when they venture outside the gates of their neighborhood. Children who grow up in such spaces learn, implicitly or intentionally, to fear those outside the walls, including their own family employees, nannies, or delivery drivers.

Due to the possibility of infection from strangers, the coronavirus poses similar Us vs. Them mentalityWithout third places and public spaces where people regularly interact with others outside their circle, this kind of thinking can take root. It can morph from cautious public health advice into paranoia and prejudice.

In other words, the coronavirus poses a challenge not only to our physical, mental and economic health, but also to our social health.

Third places provide the everyday glue that binds us to a particular place and the people who visit it. Through them, we build a chosen community, a wider public space. Without them, I fear, the connections that weave a elaborate society together will dissolve.

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