I think that the decline in koinonia is an inevitable consequence of technological and economic progress. Modern society is far less conducive to koinonia than the old mono-ethnic rural life, when people stayed in one village all their lives.

If increased social and geographical mobility is to blame, what's the solution? Soviet-style internal passports?

As there is now a third Nick running around, I am no longer Nick at Work. It's too much to keep track of!

So, two things:

1) I like this topic and look forward to reading more, but I don't think I've thought enough about this to intelligently contribute to the discussion.

2) That said, here's my two cents. It seems like you accept it as a given that geographical mobility leads to isolation from a community. I would think just the opposite, though: people move from location to location in search of community.

I'm sure that there are some ridiculous expectations that are the basis for many of these moves - people may well spend too much time looking for perfection to appreciate something that's quite close. But I think that they move around and around and flit about social networking sites solely because they're looking for somewhere to fit in. Hypothesis: social networking sites and geographical mobility are the result, rather than the cause, of the dearth of close connections.

I don't see greater geographic mobility as a problem. People move because the opportunities are out there, and for the most part, this is a good thing.

Here's an example: We may debate all we like about whether this or that aspect of the European Union was a good idea, but a friend of mine has no doubts whatsoever: His home country joining the EU has been the best thing to happen to him in a very long time. The end of travel and residence restrictions meant that he could leave his home (where he had no job opportunities and an abusive family) and take a good job in London. He's independent now and much happier than he was before. His English has gone from "excellent" to "perfect," and he's even contemplating a move to Paris, where he will improve his French, get better pay, and enjoy a chance to live in another one of the world's truly beautiful cities. So much the better.

Thanks to our rootless technological culture, he and I keep in touch by e-mail and SMS. If I'm in London, I know I have a place to stay, and my door is always open here in Washington. We share pictures, send gifts via Amazon, and otherwise conduct a surprisingly normal friendship across the distance.

My friend is just one example of many that I could name. Only last week, some of my long-lost friends from high school found me through LexisNexis (they don't do the whole blog thing, I guess). While they still live in Ohio, we're once more keeping track of one another. If this is rootlessness, then I can't see it as a bad thing.

What's more, I don't see discipline of place as a real solution, either: No matter how disciplined some small group may be, the rest of us are going to be moving around them, chasing the economic opportunities wherever they take us, and keeping in touch with one another through the new methods at our disposal.

In the end, the place you choose to stay in will not remain the same, because so many of the people will have gone elsewhere. (Not that staying in one place is necessarily an illegitimate value, but do be warned that it might not be the thing you're imagining it to be.)

You're right Jason - you can't go home again, and even if you could, home wouldn't be the same place it was because people move and change and the place changes with it. But I think there is also a lot to be said for staying put and riding things out with people you know.

One of the things I've observed even in my own family is that when you stay in the same community through high school (not necessarily in the same place but in the same community - such as military), your ability to relate to others is stabilized in a way that constant relocation prevents.

I never attended the same school for more than 2 years at a time from kindergarten until I got to law school, so my brain's template for how to deal with people and relationships beyond about 2 and a half years rides on speculation. There is no experience to provide a framework of how to handle crises within a community over a longer period of time.

It's possible that what people who are successful at change - like you and your friends and probably others - have is part learned social/survival skill and part natural affinity for that leval of mobility that makes those types of interactions positive for you.

Other people without those skills or natural affinity (such as someone who may be more naturally introverted) will not feel energized or exhilerated by the same experiences but will feel drained and exhausted by them. A more stable environment with more structure may be better for that type of person, while a more mobile environment may work better for the other type.

Just a thought.....

I forgot to say "Good topic", David. :) Thanks.

I'm looking forward to reading your posts concerning social isolation. I believe the scope of this problem overflows into more areas of our lives than we might want to admit. I also think it's more advanced and widespread than we're ready to believe.

Q: Isn't it possible that we've always had these same social isolation problems, and that we're only now beginning to recognize them as we examine the popularity of social networking sites (and the implications of a society with enough money and enough leisure to be as geographically mobile as it wants)?

What I'd like to know -- and possibly to hear from the contributors -- is who decides, and how, what level of connectedness is appropriate or ideal? I don't know that there is a firm answer to this question, but it should still be a part of the discussion, lest this talk of community and rootedness just turn into a bunch of sentimentality about how nice it would be to have "more" of it. Whatever "it" is, which might not always be good.

I can easily see, for example, a community of neighbors that was constantly snooping about my house, pestering me about things that are none of their business, and making a nuisance of themselves. "You need to be connected to the community," they declare. To which I would say... something I probably can't print here.

But then, Scott and I just bought a house, and the automatic garage door malfunctioned as we left it for the very first time. Some valuables were already inside. A neighbor, who has probably lived in our new neighborhood for longer than I've been alive, called the police.

The police. Wow. That was my first thought.

My second was, hey, we've clearly picked the right neighborhood. And maybe those ITA guys actually have a point, all my rootless cynicism aside.