Over the past few decades, a sad trend has emerged in our cities: neighbourliness is on the decline. In years gone by, a person might have known everyone on their street, at least to the extent of having someone to water their plants while they were on holiday. More recently, the image of a thriving neighbourhood – children playing in the streets and everyone coming together for a potluck dinner – has come to seem like a relic of a halcyon past.
In one UK-based study from 2018, 68% of participants described their neighbours as ‘strangers’. Half said they did not feel part of a ‘good neighbourly community’ while only 7% of those polled said they regularly socialised with their neighbours. Data from the Office of National Statistics bears this out: in 2017-2018, 62% of respondents agreed they belonged to their local area, down from 69% in 2014-15.
A similar story holds true elsewhere. One in five Australians have never met their neighbours, despite the ideals propagated by the schmaltzy soap of the same name. In Singapore, just 23% said they exchanged greetings with their neighbours more than three times a week, with the kampung (village) spirit reportedly in its death throes.
There are many reasons for this trend, each of which would probably merit a sociology thesis in its own right. But to name a few, people are living in cities rather than towns, renting rather than buying, and working long hours with a long commute. The decline in localism has seemed inescapable for some time.
That was the case, at any rate, until Covid-19. By April 2020, half the world’s population had been forced into some form of lockdown. With travel bans in force, and teleworking replacing the office commute, people were asked to stay at home in all but essential circumstances. Meanwhile, we were hearing galling stories about the people around us – people who were vulnerable, people who were lonely, people who couldn’t leave their homes to buy food.
The upshot was an entirely different approach to local life. According to a study called ‘Apart but not Alone’, published by researchers in Bristol, UK, community spirit experienced a resurgence during lockdown.
Study author Michele Biddle, of UWE Bristol, said: “Lockdown seemed to have provided that opportunity or nudge for people who don’t usually get involved in their neighbourhood to get involved.
It was great to read so many stories of how neighbours were coming together and supporting one another creatively. It was particularly heartening that older people were offering support as well, despite being classed as vulnerable.”
The support has taken the form of organised initiatives, as when the NHS Volunteer Responders’ recruitment drive recruited 750,000 people in just three days, or Clap for Carers got us banging our pans every Thursday. Australia saw a craze known as ‘Spoonville’, in which ‘villages’ of spoons, styled as people, popped up on patches of grass as a way of keeping children engaged with their communities.
Local charities and volunteer groups have helped any way they can. This might mean donating locally grown produce to poorer families; offering free cycling lessons; playing concerts outside people’s doorsteps; teaching online classes to children, or sewing face masks for healthcare workers.
There have also been countless acts of solidarity and kindness on an individual scale. Local Facebook groups have been filled with posts detailing who needs help and how to provide it. Many people have cooked food for their neighbours, or picked up prescriptions. Unable to meet up with family and friends, some of us got to know the others in our apartment blocks for the first time.