Are we comfortable being siloed?

I’m regularly equal parts impressed and disturbed when I can see how well Meta knows me. I don’t particularly want to see what categories I reside in based on my previous purchases and online behaviour, but I expect I’m fairly easy to pin down; nestled in amongst my fellow London-based, professional, childless white women who like size-inclusive fashion brands, sustainable cleaning products, and tips on how to keep their house plants alive. It occasionally worries me that, in knowing me so well, it’s making constant judgements about what content I should be shown, which brands I should be aware of, and who I should be hearing from online… and then I think, “Ooh, another gut health recipe!”

I think to myself, I should really do something about this, decline the cookies, change the settings, or God forbid, put down the phone… but the lizard part of my brain decides that this is actually, quite comfortable, thank you very much. Scroll, scroll. ?

I think about loneliness and division in society a lot. Living in London and running a company with the core purpose of building community and bringing people together, I’m often grappling with the questions of what is pulling us away from one another? Why are we so divided? And how do we make it stop?

There are plenty of fascinating theories as to why we’re becoming increasingly siloed in how we live, work and socialise. Could it be that the way we market our businesses is one of them? A textbook marketing no-no is to have mixed messaging around who you are for. If as a business you’re a bit wishy-washy about who your target market is, you’re going to struggle to persuade your customers and investors that they should hand their cash over. I’m not disputing that this is sound business advice. But I suspect that in social media land, this approach has also contributed to how segmented we are as a society. Think about my targeted ads. Our personal demographics, previous purchases, interests, location, career path, life stage, are all feeding into what we get fed online. We’re in a trap of our own making, and we don’t really fight it. We seem to actually be fairly ok with being categorised - perhaps life’s more convenient and comfortable that way? We’ve been actively screened off from brands who aren’t designed for us, and people who differ from us; who might challenge our understanding of the world, and our place in it. For human beings, this is actually a very cosy place to be. So why is it a problem??

What’s wrong with only being comfortable with people who talk like us, think like us and look like us? Why shouldn’t we scream at people online who dare challenge our world view? The problem, I think, is that it stops conversation, which stops learning, which stops progress. And with the enormous challenges humanity is and will be facing over the next 20 years that could threaten our very survival, one thing is clear. We’re going to need to work together.

The genie’s out of the bottle on this. I’m unlikely to persuade social media companies to stop target practice, or sway anyone on changing their online behaviour (I am a case in point), so I need to ask myself - what could be a solution here? How can we break out of our silos? How can we create more cohesion??

I’m going to make a case for hospitality. The gathering together to enjoy food, drink and music, has long been used as a social glue to help us create bonds, gather with people unlike ourselves, and let off some steam. When we relax and have fun together, we’re less likely to see each other as ‘other’. And this is a good thing for us a society.

I was sad, but not shocked to learn that 14,000 clubs, pubs and bars in the UK have closed since the pandemic, (in London alone it’s 3000+) according to data revealed by Night Time Industries Association. Anyone working in the hospitality industry can reel off the reasons for this tragedy. Rising costs for businesses and reduced demand from customers (who are dealing with their own rising costs) mean that cash flow becomes a nightmare, and keeping the doors open and the lights on bleeds money, often without much hope for sustainable revenue. For many surviving businesses, it’s simply a matter of time how long they can last until the tides turn. The passion of the owners and employees, who open and work in these spaces for the love of music, and fun, and hospitality, is not enough to sustain them, and that feels particularly heartbreaking. But beyond that, these are the places where we as humans have traditionally gathered to connect with one another, find new friends, and let off some steam, and while they are getting frighteningly thin on the ground, we need to ask ourselves what the implications could be.?

The UK is already a lonely place, and for many, the loss of these spaces will only worsen the issue. The physical places and contexts where we can gather meaningfully are rare, which hinders our ability to intentionally surround ourselves with people; people who look and talk differently to us, but love similar things. Or people who give us permission to be our full selves in spaces that make it safe to do so. A lonely society is not a healthy society, however you look at it. Progress can’t happen when we’re isolated from one another.?

It’s a perfect storm. We’re being comfortably categorised online, and are more divided and lonely than ever, while the spaces that could help us find each other are struggling to survive.?

So what can we do? A few things. Firstly, as a consumer, being aware of what role we’re playing, and how we are complicit in a system that is designed to keep us segmented. It’s good for business if we keep behaving and liking and buying the way we always have. Be mindful that this can come at a cost of the connections we’ll never make with people and organisations that might challenge us, inspire us, and enrich our lives in new ways we hadn’t accounted for.?

Secondly, as business owners, consider how much satisfaction you feel when, intentionally or otherwise, your product or service has brought people together in unexpected and delightful ways, who might not have otherwise crossed paths. Please keep doing whatever it is that achieves that. It’s good for the world - which I would argue is good for business.?

Speaking as someone who has committed cardinal marketing sins from the beginning of Kindred’s journey (we’re a space for all - and yes, we really mean that), I wanted to share what brings me the most joy as a business owner in an industry that is teetering on the brink.?

It’s seeing Kindred full of people who would never usually mix. When we celebrated turning five years old a few months ago, we threw a party, and invited our mailing list of people from Kindred’s past, present and future. The turn out was fantastic. Young and old, black, white and brown, all genders, interests and backgrounds, all dancing, laughing, drinking and connecting. All racing to win our ‘human-bingo’ game, competing against each other on Mario Kart, or jumping into each other’s photobooth pictures. It was glorious, because it felt like something was happening that’s actually quite rare and precious.?

In a time when we feel more divided than ever, to see people connect across traditional points of difference is heartening. Whether it’s the parties we throw, the community dinners we host, or simply our daily coffee mornings, these moments affirm to me that something we’ve battled with from the early days of Kindred - defining who Kindred is for - can in fact be answered. Not with age groups and demographics and industries, but instead, with core values: those who want to meet and be connected with others, in a world that seems intent on pulling us apart. Admittedly, yes, this is a harder marketing challenge, but nothing that’s worth doing is going to be easy.

I mourn the loss of my fellow venues who were trying their best to make a business of bringing people together across traditional lines of difference, as well as those who were providing sanctuaries for communities who otherwise don’t feel welcome to be fully who they are in our world. These losses are losses for us all, and while the economy is the way it is, it’s unlikely they’ll be replaced quickly without intentional and rapid support. If you take one thing from these reflections, please try your best to support your local grassroots venues and hospitality businesses. Buy the tickets, show up to your reservations, prop up the bar (soft drinks are fine too!) and send messages of love and support. It’s a painful time for many, but these little actions all matter.?

My optimistic heart hopes for the days when people want to look up from their screens, and choose to spend time in the spaces where they can be around others, physically - and not just those who are similar to themselves. Looking at what’s up ahead, we’re going to need our gathering places, and each other, more than ever in the days to come.?