Third places are disappearing

“The more we deal with other people in our environment without clear-cut roles and without command-and-control, and the more the innovation involves productivity-together, the more we need internal motivation.”

Where do you even go?

I've always learned through experience: cooking, exploring, connecting. But lately, I've noticed the spaces where you could just show up and naturally meet people are vanishing.

And honestly, I'm part of the problem. I wear headphones everywhere: on public transportation, walking around my neighborhood. I'm not trying to be antisocial, but as someone who gets random catcalls, headphones are my shield. It's easier to look unavailable.

But here's what bothers me: most social places require you to arrive with at least one other person. I like solo dining, but I rarely leave with a friend; my objective is me + food. Bars feel awkward alone. Restaurants give you weird looks unless you look important. Concerts and events? You can go solo, but people stick with whoever they came with. Fitness classes like Solidcore feel transactional: show up, work out, leave. Maybe a polite "good class," then you go home alone.

My friends who are dating say it feels nearly impossible to meet people organically. It still happens, but it's rare. So most people default to apps, not because they love them, but because where else do you even start?

When I try to list solo activities that naturally spark connection, my mind goes blank. Coffee shops turned into co-working spaces. Libraries feel institutional. Malls feel unsafe. Froyo shops died. Nice bars became too expensive to linger. Parks feel like you need a dog or a child to speak to strangers. Running clubs are great, if running is your personality.

This is mostly an observation of American life: I've spent years here now and I keep wondering how different this feels in other cultures.

As an extroverted, curious person, I'm feeling this loss. And I don't think I'm alone.

What we lost (and why it matters)

There's actually a term for this. Sociologist Ray Oldenburg called them "third places" back in 1989: the spaces beyond home (first place) and work (second place) where community life actually happens. Think coffee shops where you could hang out, barbershops where people talked, bowling alleys, bookstores with comfy chairs, community centers that felt genuinely communal.

The key thing about third places? They were ordinary. Simple, unassuming, and usually affordable places to just... exist. You could meet people, express yourself, relax, build community without spending much money or energy. No agenda required.

These weren't just nice-to-have amenities. They were where we learned to be human around other humans. Where you figured out how to read a room, start a random conversation, exist in shared space without feeling weird about it.

I don't know if the disappearance of these spaces is because of shifting social classes, or if globalization causes so much displacement that we've lost the ability to build rooted communities. Maybe both.

Now? Our daily geography has basically collapsed into: home → office/school → home. Maybe with a sprinkle of exercising.

Why everything became a transaction

Real estate economics killed the casual hangout. When rent is high, every space has to justify its existence. Cafés raise prices, shrink tables, remove cozy corners, and quietly discourage lingering. Bookstores that survived became curated retail experiences. Even Target redesigned stores to be quicker and sleeker with less wandering, more purchasing.

So what's left? Almost every place for "meeting people" requires you to either buy something, open your laptop, or order a cocktail. Bars and restaurants absorbed the social role third places once held, but they come with a cost. And not everyone wants their entire social life to circle around alcohol or expensive meals.

Cafés went the opposite direction: they became default co-working spaces. Headphones in, laptops open, eyes downward. The energy is productivity, not connection.

Human interaction became an add-on instead of the default. Meeting new people turned into a logistical plan: reservations, dress codes, vibes, price points. The casual spontaneity that used to be free now feels gated behind consumption or productivity.

Why Europeans seem fine

This feels like a very American problem. When I went to Europe, it felt so different. Café culture is real in their cities. You can sit for hours over one drink and nobody makes you feel guilty. Public squares function as gathering spaces. Neighborhoods are mixed-use, so third places are woven into daily life, not destinations requiring planning.

The infrastructure supports it. You can walk there. They're affordable. Nobody's rushing you out. The culture isn't work, work, work the way America is. There's space for a more relaxed lifestyle that accommodates third places naturally.

My personal struggle

I live in Pittsburgh, and for the past couple years, I've been relentlessly searching for third places here. It's been rough. I've gone to young adult professional events, but the demographics skew older. I've been to non-profit community events, but I don't always feel alignment with the majority. I'm trying to be more open-minded, but it's hard.

Pittsburgh's social scene revolves heavily around sports bars, football, hockey, baseball… none of it my vibe. The few places that interest me feel awkwardly positioned: not casual enough to feel comfortable, not special enough to feel worth the effort.

I keep having random thoughts like: why doesn't Trader Joe's have an outdoor patio where people can just chill? Why doesn't Whole Foods do drop-in cooking classes? What if gyms had post-workout lounges designed for conversation? These are places we already go. Why aren't they designed for connection?

Some questions I'm sitting with

I'm still searching for my third places. Maybe you are too. Here's what I've been thinking about:

  • Where are your third places? Do you have spots where you can show up without a plan, where you might see familiar faces, where staying is normal?

  • If you don't have third places, what's the barrier? Do they not exist near you? Too expensive? Wrong vibe? Wrong demographic?

  • What would your ideal third place look like? What would you do there? Who would you meet? What would make you keep coming back?

  • Have you watched third places disappear? What used to exist that's gone now? What replaced it?

  • Can online spaces count? Can Discord or group chats do the same thing, or is there something irreplaceable about physical presence?

I don't have answers. But I know this feeling is real, and I know others experience it too.

If you have third places you love, or ideas for what could work, I genuinely want to hear about them. Maybe we can start figuring out what still exists—and what we need to create.


Thank you for thinking with me. This piece is part of Ode by Muno, where I explore the invisible systems shaping how we sense, think, and create.

I'm curious what patterns you're noticing in your own life: where are your third places, or where did they used to be? What spaces feel like they're disappearing, and what's replacing them? Leave a comment with what resonated, or share a third place that still exists in your city. And if you want to follow this evolving conversation, subscribe to get new

The quote at the intro is from the book, Systems Intelligence. The concept of "third places" comes from sociologist Ray Oldenburg's 1989 book, The Great Good Place.

In my next post, I'll explore how urban design shapes the way we think and feel. Because some cities have bad UX and the interface you navigate daily affects more than just your commute.

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Third places are disappearing — here’s the data

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