The Death of Third Spaces

How often have you had a space that wasn't work, or school? A space where money wasn't a requirement, where people can exist alongside one another, and friendships can sprout and grow. It used to be the beach, but alas PubSubs, coolers, towels, and of course parking, costs a pretty penny. Bars used to be considered third spaces as well, until $40 became the new $20 and happy hours are impossible to meet. The death of third spaces stems from a variety of evolution—rising costs, social media, changing city design, adulting, etc.—but perhaps the question is not whether third spaces are dying. They have. Instead ask, what did we lose when we lost them?

Growing up, friendships are rather easy to make vs. when you are an adult. You have sleepovers with friends from school, you join clubs, you browse the mall and never buy anything, and the list goes on. As an adult, making friends and meeting people organically is a bit more difficult. Most of my friends, I have been lucky enough to love since I was twelve years old. But not everyone has friendships that stretch across decades, and even when you do, there comes a point when you need to build community somewhere new. A new job, new school, or moving to a new city is a leap that can land you into isolation. Making new friends as an adult is no small feat, let alone relationships, and for many people, the process can make you quite self-conscious. Third spaces help bridge that gap. They provide a healthy space where friendships can grow without the pressure of status, or work performance, or scheduled events. They were places for the new kid, the recent graduate, someone who didn't get along with their coworkers, or simply anyone looking for a sense of fun and belonging.

Shopping malls, coffee shops, bookstores, arcades, and countless other examples. However only one mall had all of the above...Sunset Place I miss you dearly. Most of the aforementioned third spaces either cost way too much to attend nowadays, or closed down. The pandemic, however, has the reddest hands of all when it comes to the death of third spaces, as most people were limited to just their homes and work. That routine was difficult to shake back then, and I also personally blame the pandemic for conditioning me to need a nap every afternoon. I used to run on three hours of sleep, still wake up at 5 a.m. for the bus, stick around for cheer practice, and then do it all again. The good ol' days. I digress. Some third spaces still exist, provided you're willing to spend a pretty penny. Yet even those spaces, I feel, have been partially altered by social media. While social media hasn't replaced third spaces—although it can be argued it is a digital one now—it has changed how we interact with them. Many places we visit with friends now seem to come with an unspoken expectation: take photos, post them, document the experience. More often than not, those photos are taken for social media rather than ourselves—for proof that we were there, rather than memories to look back on later.

A poll was created, per usual, and the responses seemed to have similar answers, although that could just be because my friend groups hung out in the similar third spaces. Libraries were an interesting choice of third space that we miss dearly, because nowadays they usually have one person and not many books. Versus bookstores which are heavenly, but cost a few dozen pretty pennies. I spent $120 at Barnes & Noble the other day, no regrets. Part of the appeal with third spaces is the lack of necessity to be there. When was the last time you went somewhere without a goal in mind? A space just to exist and test the threads of fate? Whether alone or with friends, spontaneity is vital to the revival of third spaces. Some of the best moments in life are unplanned—the friend you run into by chance, the wonderful conversation with a stranger you met in the girls bathroom at a bar, the hour that turns into the entire afternoon. Third spaces gave us permission to be aimless, and in doing so, we stumbled into connections (I have been bingeing Love Island so forgive the buzzwords).

This post was rather short, but the death of third spaces hurts for me mainly because of the possibility that came with them. The possibility of making a new friend, or leaving the house with no plan and somehow returning with a story. Third spaces were never only physical spaces, they were incubators for community, spontaneity, and belonging. When every outing requires a purchase, and every experience feels curated for an audience, there is little room for chance. So, I leave you to ponder the same question I started with (lol): what did we lose when we lost third spaces? Was it the specific place (rip Sunset) or was it the freedom to be aimless? Whatever the answer might be, I think many of us are still searching for it.