Community is our best hope of fighting climate change

Why is it so hard to build it?

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Last week, we wrote about nihilism and how we can combat it. But there’s another aspect to this conversation that we can’t ignore. Nihilism is also fuelled in large part by the rampant isolation and individualism our systems have created. It’s extremely difficult to feel hopeful when you don’t feel like you’re part of something bigger, because you don’t have any real stake in it. When we lack community, it’s hard to do much of anything except look after our own basic needs (which were never designed to be met by one person anyways).

One of the most pernicious parts of late capitalism is how deeply it isolates us from one another. In the system we live in, almost every aspect of life has become commodified–time, labour, creativity, and even our relationships. As such, these relationships have become far more transactional. We focus on what we can get out of them, how they benefit us, and we arrive at a place where they are seen as more and more expendable (the rise of therapy-speak and “boundaries” culture most definitely has not helped this phenomenon). We’re encouraged to put our personal success above all other goals, to define ourselves by what we consume, rather than by the quality of our relationships. 

There’s a structural element to this, and there’s also a story lurking underneath it. Capitalism not only drives us towards more isolated existences on the physical level (through suburbs, long commutes, demanding schedules, and the atomization of the nuclear family) but also at the psychological level. Instead of being told that we will prosper if we look after one another, we are told that we will prosper if we look out for ourselves. That competition is the way to succeed. Sink or swim. Every man for himself. 

This ideological shift is perhaps one of the most dangerous outcomes of this system, because it’s the exact opposite of what we need to cultivate in order to have any hope of fighting the climate crisis or building something better. We have to believe that our fates are intertwined, that we owe something to each other and to the earth, and that we are part of something bigger than ourselves–or there will be no real impetus for action. 

It’s a tragic outcome—both for the quality of our lives in the present and our chances for the future. Community should be our birthright. But it’s becoming a luxury. It’s become so challenging to survive in this atomized structure that we simply don’t have time for the work involved in cultivating meaningful community (and it definitely takes work).

To see our loved ones, we must carve out time amidst conflicting work schedules or multiple jobs, time spent commuting, meeting our basic needs like cleaning, grocery shopping, and looking after children or family. It’s exhausting because all this work is not meant to be done alone by one person; when we’re part of a community, we share the load. But now, with all of this on our shoulders, there just aren’t enough hours in the day to nurture our relationships. And our lives are worse for it.

Not only are our lives less rich, but resilient communities are practically a necessity for successful climate action. So many powerful movements have been sparked by grassroots, community-level organizing. Not only that, but as climate disasters become more and more common, we need strong networks of support to rebuild afterwards.

Writer and activist Bill McKibben recently wrote a piece in The Crucial Years about the question that’s been on so many people’s minds: Where should I live? Where is the safest place to be in these unpredictable times? Although there are certainly some places one may want to avoid, McKibben argues that it’s essentially the wrong question to be asking. As long as you aren’t living in a particularly hazardous place, there will be few places sheltered from the effects of climate change. What matters is the quality of social trust that we can build wherever we happen to live live. As he writes,

“We’ve come through 75 years where having neighbors was essentially optional: if you had a credit card, you could get everything you needed to survive dropped off at your front door. But the next 75 years aren’t going to be like that; we’re going to need to return to the basic human experience of relying on the people around you.”

So how do we do it? How do we build meaningful community, especially in urban areas where we can so easily remain anonymous and where all the structural forces are pulling us apart?

It’s not a question with easy answers, because each circumstance is so different. And honestly, it’s not something I’ve easily been able to achieve in my own life. But there are places to look—at least to begin the process of imagination. 

Building Community Amidst Alienation

Much of building community starts with being intentional about what already exists around us. It might feel daunting, but the first step is often just looking closer. Start with the resources at your fingertips—neighborhood Facebook groups, community boards, or local events pages. These might seem insignificant, but they are the threads that can begin to form deeper connection.

I often notice posters for events, workshops, or meetups that align with my interests. In fact, I see them multiple times usually just keep walking, but overcoming that little bit of inertia might just be the key to getting started. These gatherings are opportunities—small doorways into a larger network of people who are also searching for community. Often, just showing up is half the battle. When we step into these spaces, we create the possibility for new relationships to form, for interesting conversations to happen, and for things we didn’t expect to emerge.

If the kind of group or initiative you’re looking for doesn’t exist yet, you might need to create it. This doesn’t have to be a grand, organized effort. It could be as simple as starting a book club, hosting a potluck, or organizing a neighborhood clean-up. These small actions can act as magnets, attracting others who are also looking to build community. In the process, you’re not only building more solidarity in your area but also setting the stage for more collective action in the future.

Embracing Inconvenience

But beyond just finding or starting a group, building community also requires embracing a mindset that prioritizes connection over convenience. We live in a world that constantly pulls us towards isolation, where technology offers the allure of easy, impersonal interactions. Resisting this pull requires a conscious effort to engage in the real, often messy, process of building relationships.

I was reading a blog post recently about this topic, where Damaris Zehner wrote about her experience mailing a package to her daughter in the military. In the past, she would have brought it to the post office and the woman behind the counter would have helped her put together all her documents. But this time, she announced that the process had moved online. Zehner would have to go home, print out all the forms, and drive back just to drop it off. This shift is supposed to be more convenient. In reality, it removes the human touch-points in our everyday lives. The post person’s job is now essentially obsolete; their job could just as easily be done by a drop-box.

Zehner went on to write: “It’s practically a law that the more inconvenient something is, the more it engenders community.” I think there’s a lot of truth to that. It’s more inconvenient to go to the clothing store and have a sales person help us than to order a bunch of sizes online and return the ones that don’t fit. It’s more inconvenient to go to the farmer’s market for your groceries or to agree to get your neighbour’s mail when they’re away. To get books at the library instead of shipping them to our homes. To go to the butcher’s and the bakery in your local neighbourhood instead of getting everything from a big box store. Kurt Vonnegut writes about this in his meditation on leaving the house to buy envelopes—a good reminder of the joy that can come from doing things the longer, less convenient way.

Of course, these things also take more time, and sometimes cost more money. The farmer’s market is often more expensive than Walmart, and might not have everything you need in one place. Having these richer, less convenient experiences is also a form of privilege that not all of us have, especially if we’re just trying to meet our basic needs. That’s a deep injustice; we all deserve to have enough time to do the things we need to do without a brutal race to the bottom for efficiency. We deserve to meander.

But that also does not describe all of us. Many of us do have the time and resources to spend more time getting out into our communities and doing things that connect us to one another, however briefly. But the temptation of convenience is so strong, it’s easier to Instacart everything to our doorstep so we can save a few minutes in the day. But is this how we really want our lives to be? 

We are losing something important when we allow our lives to be automated in this way, cleanly avoiding interaction wherever we can. I struggle with this, but I want to try to embrace inconvenience more often – to really try to see if there’s a place I can go in person, maybe a smaller business, to purchase something I need, rather than ordering it online. 

It takes time and effort to form this kind of community, to begin to emerge from our shells, but there is so much desire for togetherness from so many people that it’s hard to imagine that it won’t be found when we really begin looking for it.

We also must see this community-building work as inseparable from climate work. If we have a shot of building a different world, resisting the atomization that has been imposed on us is the first step. We come together or we fall apart.

We’re reorganizing Down to Earth a bit. We’re splitting the newsletters into one longer article per month and one shorter roundup of relevant news, thought pieces, and other media, as well as a selection of current sustainability opportunities. You’ll find the media recs there from now on.

And another reminder: Please fill out our short survey to help us inform our content offerings! It just takes five minutes and really helps us out. Link here!

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Our Co-Executive Director (and Down to Earth co-author)

Gareth Gransaull

will be speaking at two events during NY Climate Week! If you’ll be around, please check out the following events and come say hello:

1. On September 23rd, the Meanwhile in Canada panel and networking event, hosted by the Trottier Family Foundation, will explore Canadian climate action and innovation. RSVP here.

2. On September 28th, the Creative Career Summit hosted by Creatives for Climate will take place at the ‘Marketplace of the Future’ to discuss creativity, climate careers, and solutions. Tickets sold here.