There are possible secular analogues to the church format, but there aren’t many close secular analogues that don’t derive from some kind of totalizing ideology. Church is very explicitly set up to propagate received wisdom (and to reinforce it with ritual, etc.), and the secondary social structures that accrete around churches (daycare-like services, church outings, community services, etc.) would most likely have a harder time existing if they couldn’t fall back on the shared experience of receiving wisdom from on high. More cynically, there’s also less incentive to maintain those secondary organizations if you’re not trying to keep your flock socially isolated in order to benefit from cult attractor effects.
There’s certainly a social void that not going to church leaves in some individuals. With the above in mind, though, the most adaptive way to fill it might not be to copy the church format but to expand the secondary services around existing secular organizations. The key here is leveraging the existing common ground to build affective links in a structured way: my current dojo, for example, has taken to throwing parties after intensive training sessions and on the dates of events significant to the organization. It’s at least been effective at improving regular attendance, which strikes me as a good proxy for emotional attachment.
If you wanted to make something up from whole cloth, patterning it roughly after the Boy Scouts or something similar might not be a bad way to do it. Alternately, a modernized revival of the 19th-century “gentleman’s club” format (i.e. not a strip joint but a venue for making and maintaining socially useful connections) might have potential.
I’ve experienced something like the “gentleman’s club,” more than once, and I can attest that it is a good institution. You have to have a critical mass of people you not only like but admire, people who are involved in things that you want to be involved in—not just friends but connections. You have to see each other more regularly than once a week. You have to have a place that is frequently open to hang out on the spur of the moment. And booze (or intoxicants of your choice) is more important than you might imagine.
If you can get all this, then very good things happen in your life, very quickly. It’s sort of setting up the conditions that make serendipity possible.
My first experience was at an eating club in college. (Think: a coed frat, except you eat your meals there, and the environment is a bit less rowdy.) This was literally like a gentlemen’s club and had actually been modeled on them in the 19th century. My club was even more 19th century than most, being self-consciously old-fashioned. We had what I consider the basic requirements: cameraderie with admirable people, a space of our own, frequent meetings, and alcohol. And the remarkable thing: it worked exactly as it was intended. It was a good influence on the members: shy people came out of their shells and rowdy people became more responsible. A lot of people got jobs through club connections. A lot of people got dates through the club. A lot of us learned enormous amounts about each other’s areas of expertise. And there was a sense of loyalty and even honor connected to belonging to the club.
Now I’m in a regular LW/OB meetup group in New York, which in a very different way serves the same function. It’s as self-consciously futurist as my eating club was self-consciously historical. And instead of college students it’s mainly young professionals. But it has the same basics: cameraderie with admirable people, regular meetings (if you live close by), some plans for a permanent space of our own, and sometimes alcohol. And it has some of the same positive effects. Useful professional connections; sometimes romantic connections; learning a lot from other people’s areas of expertise; a focus on self-improvement; and a sense of loyalty to each other. We are becoming more awesome together.
The other group that might half-qualify as this sort of a community is Chabad, which I’ve attended occasionally. I’ve seen it have the same density of impressive people, the same almost loving loyalty, and even professional connections (like recommending a lawyer). Obviously that’s a religious group and so not what we’re looking for here; but if a religious group reminds me vaguely of the community-building strengths of the secular groups I’ve actually belonged to, I’d say that’s a sign that the secular groups are doing something right.
Well, maybe I overemphasized the alcohol. The point is that these kinds of communities have to have unstructured socializing, they can’t just be purely goal-based. A club that hosts lectures, for instance, is all very well, but unless it has parties afterwards I don’t think it’ll have the same serendipitious spill-over effects into your whole life.
There are possible secular analogues to the church format, but there aren’t many close secular analogues that don’t derive from some kind of totalizing ideology. Church is very explicitly set up to propagate received wisdom (and to reinforce it with ritual, etc.), and the secondary social structures that accrete around churches (daycare-like services, church outings, community services, etc.) would most likely have a harder time existing if they couldn’t fall back on the shared experience of receiving wisdom from on high. More cynically, there’s also less incentive to maintain those secondary organizations if you’re not trying to keep your flock socially isolated in order to benefit from cult attractor effects.
There’s certainly a social void that not going to church leaves in some individuals. With the above in mind, though, the most adaptive way to fill it might not be to copy the church format but to expand the secondary services around existing secular organizations. The key here is leveraging the existing common ground to build affective links in a structured way: my current dojo, for example, has taken to throwing parties after intensive training sessions and on the dates of events significant to the organization. It’s at least been effective at improving regular attendance, which strikes me as a good proxy for emotional attachment.
If you wanted to make something up from whole cloth, patterning it roughly after the Boy Scouts or something similar might not be a bad way to do it. Alternately, a modernized revival of the 19th-century “gentleman’s club” format (i.e. not a strip joint but a venue for making and maintaining socially useful connections) might have potential.
I’ve experienced something like the “gentleman’s club,” more than once, and I can attest that it is a good institution. You have to have a critical mass of people you not only like but admire, people who are involved in things that you want to be involved in—not just friends but connections. You have to see each other more regularly than once a week. You have to have a place that is frequently open to hang out on the spur of the moment. And booze (or intoxicants of your choice) is more important than you might imagine.
If you can get all this, then very good things happen in your life, very quickly. It’s sort of setting up the conditions that make serendipity possible.
This sounds very intriguing. Can you give more details of your experiences?
My first experience was at an eating club in college. (Think: a coed frat, except you eat your meals there, and the environment is a bit less rowdy.) This was literally like a gentlemen’s club and had actually been modeled on them in the 19th century. My club was even more 19th century than most, being self-consciously old-fashioned. We had what I consider the basic requirements: cameraderie with admirable people, a space of our own, frequent meetings, and alcohol. And the remarkable thing: it worked exactly as it was intended. It was a good influence on the members: shy people came out of their shells and rowdy people became more responsible. A lot of people got jobs through club connections. A lot of people got dates through the club. A lot of us learned enormous amounts about each other’s areas of expertise. And there was a sense of loyalty and even honor connected to belonging to the club.
Now I’m in a regular LW/OB meetup group in New York, which in a very different way serves the same function. It’s as self-consciously futurist as my eating club was self-consciously historical. And instead of college students it’s mainly young professionals. But it has the same basics: cameraderie with admirable people, regular meetings (if you live close by), some plans for a permanent space of our own, and sometimes alcohol. And it has some of the same positive effects. Useful professional connections; sometimes romantic connections; learning a lot from other people’s areas of expertise; a focus on self-improvement; and a sense of loyalty to each other. We are becoming more awesome together.
The other group that might half-qualify as this sort of a community is Chabad, which I’ve attended occasionally. I’ve seen it have the same density of impressive people, the same almost loving loyalty, and even professional connections (like recommending a lawyer). Obviously that’s a religious group and so not what we’re looking for here; but if a religious group reminds me vaguely of the community-building strengths of the secular groups I’ve actually belonged to, I’d say that’s a sign that the secular groups are doing something right.
Now I have a vague desire for the Less Wrong meetup group in the Bay Area to be like this.
I get a lot of the same experience via the community theatre group I work with, though perhaps with less alcohol.
Well, maybe I overemphasized the alcohol. The point is that these kinds of communities have to have unstructured socializing, they can’t just be purely goal-based. A club that hosts lectures, for instance, is all very well, but unless it has parties afterwards I don’t think it’ll have the same serendipitious spill-over effects into your whole life.
Yeah, I agree. Though I also find that actually doing something together does help.