מילים חדשות · 2

In 1989, an American sociologist named Ray Oldenburg published a book with an unusual argument. Everyone, he wrote, needs three places. The first place is home, and the second is work or school. The third place, which he believed was just as important, is somewhere in between: a café, a barber's shop, a library or a park bench where people meet without any formal reason.

What turns an ordinary spot into a third place? According to Oldenburg, it is cheap or free, easy to reach and open to everyone. Nobody is the host, and nobody needs an invitation. The main activity is conversation, and the mood is playful rather than serious. Regular visitors come back again and again, and new faces are welcomed, sometimes after a few curious looks.

Oldenburg worried that such places were disappearing from American life. New suburbs were designed around cars and shopping centres, not around streets where neighbours could bump into each other by chance. Decades later, many researchers believe the situation has become worse. Screens now fill much of the free time that people once spent in public, and online communities, while valuable, rarely offer the chance meetings that turn strangers into acquaintances.

Israel offers an interesting example. In many Israeli towns, the third place has an official name: the community centre, or matnas. Such centres host everything from chess clubs to dance classes for pensioners, and they are often the only place where a teenager, a new immigrant and a grandmother share the same room. A Friday morning at a neighbourhood café in Tel Aviv, or at a busy market in Jerusalem, shows the same idea at work: people who are neither family nor colleagues, talking simply because they happen to be there. No one planned the meeting, and that is exactly the point.

Why should any of this matter? Studies have linked loneliness to poor health, and some doctors compare its effects to those of smoking. Third places cannot solve loneliness on their own, but they offer something that is hard to find elsewhere: a sense of belonging that asks for nothing in return.

Perhaps the lesson is a simple one. The next time you have to choose between ordering a coffee to your door and sitting for half an hour at the café on the corner, consider what else you might be buying.

In 1989, an American sociologist named Ray Oldenburg published a book with an unusual argument. Everyone, he wrote, needs three places. The first place is home, and the second is work or school. The third place, which he believed was just as important, is somewhere in between: a café, a barber's shop, a library or a park bench where people meet without any formal reason.

What turns an ordinary spot into a third place? According to Oldenburg, it is cheap or free, easy to reach and open to everyone. Nobody is the host, and nobody needs an invitation. The main activity is conversation, and the mood is playful rather than serious. Regular visitors come back again and again, and new faces are welcomed, sometimes after a few curious looks.

Oldenburg worried that such places were disappearing from American life. New suburbs were designed around cars and shopping centres, not around streets where neighbours could bump into each other by chance. Decades later, many researchers believe the situation has become worse. Screens now fill much of the free time that people once spent in public, and online communities, while valuable, rarely offer the chance meetings that turn strangers into acquaintances.

Israel offers an interesting example. In many Israeli towns, the third place has an official name: the community centre, or matnas. Such centres host everything from chess clubs to dance classes for pensioners, and they are often the only place where a teenager, a new immigrant and a grandmother share the same room. A Friday morning at a neighbourhood café in Tel Aviv, or at a busy market in Jerusalem, shows the same idea at work: people who are neither family nor colleagues, talking simply because they happen to be there. No one planned the meeting, and that is exactly the point.

Why should any of this matter? Studies have linked loneliness to poor health, and some doctors compare its effects to those of smoking. Third places cannot solve loneliness on their own, but they offer something that is hard to find elsewhere: a sense of belonging that asks for nothing in return.

Perhaps the lesson is a simple one. The next time you have to choose between ordering a coffee to your door and sitting for half an hour at the café on the corner, consider what else you might be buying.

In 1989, an American sociologist named Ray Oldenburg published a book with an unusual argument. Everyone, he wrote, needs three places. The first place is home, and the second is work or school. The third place, which he believed was just as important, is somewhere in between: a café, a barber's shop, a library or a park bench where people meet without any formal reason.

What turns an ordinary spot into a third place? According to Oldenburg, it is cheap or free, easy to reach and open to everyone. Nobody is the host, and nobody needs an invitation. The main activity is conversation, and the mood is playful rather than serious. Regular visitors come back again and again, and new faces are welcomed, sometimes after a few curious looks.

Oldenburg worried that such places were disappearing from American life. New suburbs were designed around cars and shopping centres, not around streets where neighbours could bump into each other by chance. Decades later, many researchers believe the situation has become worse. Screens now fill much of the free time that people once spent in public, and online communities, while valuable, rarely offer the chance meetings that turn strangers into acquaintances.

Israel offers an interesting example. In many Israeli towns, the third place has an official name: the community centre, or matnas. Such centres host everything from chess clubs to dance classes for pensioners, and they are often the only place where a teenager, a new immigrant and a grandmother share the same room. A Friday morning at a neighbourhood café in Tel Aviv, or at a busy market in Jerusalem, shows the same idea at work: people who are neither family nor colleagues, talking simply because they happen to be there. No one planned the meeting, and that is exactly the point.

Why should any of this matter? Studies have linked loneliness to poor health, and some doctors compare its effects to those of smoking. Third places cannot solve loneliness on their own, but they offer something that is hard to find elsewhere: a sense of belonging that asks for nothing in return.

Perhaps the lesson is a simple one. The next time you have to choose between ordering a coffee to your door and sitting for half an hour at the café on the corner, consider what else you might be buying.