Other people

The author describes an unusual day when their housemate, Hatty, went into labor unexpectedly at home. The event unfolded in their terraced house in London, where nine people—including medical professionals, housemates, and family members—gathered to support the birth. Despite the crowded and chaotic scene, the author reflects that the space didn’t feel overly full. This experience challenged the author’s initial expectations of home as a private, controlled space and highlighted the unpredictability of communal living. It also served as a catalyst for questioning societal norms about privacy, autonomy, and the idealized nuclear family structure.

The author discusses the societal script that prioritizes the nuclear family—living in a private home with minimal occupants—as the ultimate goal of adulthood. This script, reinforced by mid-20th-century values, encourages individuals to strive for personal success through homeownership, privacy, and autonomy. The author and their partner initially followed this path, achieving a stable but lonely life with their children. However, they began to feel the strain of this model, which often isolates individuals from broader community support. The author critiques this ideal as unsustainable, particularly in the face of contemporary challenges like the climate crisis.

The author, while working at a think tank, observed that many policy issues—such as overconsumption, loneliness, mental health crises, and climate change—stemmed from societal disconnection. They describe this disconnection as an invisible force undermining collective well-being. The author explores critiques of individualism (the prioritization of personal freedom over communal bonds) and late-stage capitalism (an economic system that encourages self-interest and market-based solutions to social needs). However, they find that critiques often lead to conservative or exclusionary solutions, leaving a gap for alternative models of living.

The author argues that the freedoms of liberal individualism—personal autonomy, privacy, and choice—come with a hidden cost: loneliness and existential emptiness. They describe how outsourcing needs to the market and optimizing personal spaces can create a sense of existential weightlessness, where individuals feel untethered from meaningful relationships. The author suggests that this model, while offering comfort and control, fails to address deeper human needs for connection and reciprocity, leaving people feeling isolated despite their material success.

The birth of the author’s first child coincided with a growing awareness of the climate crisis, which shifted their perspective from theoretical concern to urgent action. They realized that relying solely on individual effort and accumulation was insufficient to ensure safety or sustainability. The author became convinced that building a thick web of humans—a community committed to mutual care—was essential for survival. This realization led them to reject the nuclear family model in favor of a more interdependent way of living, despite the lack of mainstream models for such an approach.

The author and their partner decided to experiment with communal living by renting a house with others who shared their commitment. This process involved navigating practical challenges like shared spaces, differing expectations around cleanliness, and personal conflicts. They also faced bureaucratic hurdles, such as joint house purchases and legal complexities. The experience was emotionally taxing, exposing vulnerabilities and forcing them to confront childhood patterns and unresolved issues. Despite the difficulties, they persisted, driven by the belief that communal living could foster resilience and mutual support.

The author describes the present era as a polycrisis—a term used to describe multiple, interconnected global crises, such as climate change, political instability, and social fragmentation. They argue that the solution to these crises lies in countercultural movements toward communal living, where people actively resist forces that drive them apart. The author suggests that homes can become places to relearn habits of reciprocity, sharing, and mutual care, which have historically defined cultures. They emphasize that this approach is not about idealized images of community but about survival and resilience in an uncertain world.

The author draws parallels between their communal living experiment and the monastic tradition, where religious orders live in close proximity to foster spiritual growth. In monastic settings, the discomfort of being witnessed in one’s flaws and the necessity of compromise are seen as essential for personal development. The author highlights that communal living similarly exposes individuals to their own vulnerabilities and requires emotional skills and lasting commitments. They note that modern individualistic upbringing often lacks these skills, making communal living a challenging but transformative experience.

The author argues that living in close proximity to others acts as a technology of the self, a term coined by philosopher Michel Foucault to describe practices that shape identity. They suggest that communal living strips away illusions about the self by forcing individuals to confront their flaws and contradictions. This process of being witnessed and witnessing others is described as powerful and rare in modern society, where personal boundaries and polished personas are often prioritized. The author cites examples like group therapy and recovery programs, where such witnessing leads to personal growth, but notes that these practices are uncommon in everyday life.