Are We Trading Neighboring for Convenience?
I recently came across a meme that struck a chord:
“A shorter line, but at what cost?”
It pictured two store checkout lanes, one staffed by a person with a few customers waiting, the other a self-checkout lane that was nearly empty. Most people, predictably, chose the faster, impersonal option.
At first glance, this is just a reflection of modern efficiency. But the more I thought about it, the more it raised a bigger question:
Are we trading community and connection for convenience?
Years ago, simple daily tasks created opportunities for human interaction.
Waiting in line wasn’t just a wait, it was a chance for small talk.
Grabbing coffee meant seeing the same barista, sharing a smile, maybe even swapping stories about life’s ups and downs.
Grocery shopping wasn’t a solo mission completed in record time. It was a communal experience, where you might bump into neighbors or catch up with acquaintances.
Those little moments built something bigger: neighboring.
Neighboring isn’t just a nostalgic idea of borrowing sugar or hosting block parties. It’s the everyday act of acknowledging the humanity around us.
It’s about recognizing faces, learning names, and weaving a quiet web of connection that holds communities together.
But as technology races ahead, we’re increasingly conditioned to avoid interaction:
We order groceries online.
We opt for curbside pickup.
We scan our own purchases and skip the cashier entirely.
We even order food and coffee from apps so we don’t have to speak to anyone.
It’s convenient. It’s fast.
But what are we losing in the process?
The Hidden Cost of Convenience
In our pursuit of saving time, we risk becoming invisible to one another.
The clerk who once recognized your face? Just another transaction.
The neighbor who shopped at the same time every week? Now a stranger.
The quiet moments of shared experience in public spaces? Fading fast.
We’ve created a culture where being known is optional, and increasingly, rare.
Convenience might give us back a few minutes, but it can quietly erode the fabric of community.
And in times of crisis or celebration alike, it’s that fabric we depend on.
What Neighboring Really Means (and Why It Matters)
Neighboring isn’t just about being friendly.
It’s about belonging.
It creates:
Safety: Someone notices if you’ve been missing.
Support: Someone helps when you’re in need.
Joy: Someone celebrates your wins, big and small.
Without these ties, we can live surrounded by people and still feel completely alone.
A Small Challenge: Choose Connection
So here’s my simple challenge:
Pick the longer line occasionally.
Say hello to the cashier.
Visit a local business where people know your name.
Attend that neighborhood event even if you’re tired.
Let’s resist the temptation to automate every human experience.
Because while convenience might save us time, neighboring saves our sense of belonging.
And that’s something no app can deliver.
