Image source - Gary Butterfield
This article was originally published on Mar 28, 2025.
Last summer, on the 29th of July, the country was horrified by the news of the stabbings in Southport, and to hear of the losses of Bebe, Elsie and Alice. This grief was then compounded by the displays of far-right extremism which followed. In response, Prime Minister Keir Starmer made a statement on the 21st of January, warning that “Britain faces a new threat. Terrorism has changed.” But he then talked of how Southport rebuilt itself in the aftermath: “Strangers no longer strangers. A community.”
Why do we wait for tragedy to bring us together as a community? Every generation seems to believe that the sense of togetherness was stronger in the past, but is that just nostalgia, or are we truly losing something? When was the last time you borrowed sugar from a neighbour or had a conversation that went beyond a passing “hello”? Research from the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport found that between 2021 and 2024, the number of people who chatted with their neighbours at least once a month, beyond a hello, dropped by 3%. The truth is, humans thrive on cooperation. We are inherently social beings, but we are losing that vital connection. Why is this, and does it really matter?
The growing rise of individualism, powered by capitalism, has slowly eroded the fabric of our most basic interactions. Sean Ryan describes this as “the cold barren shoulder of contemporary British society; all hesitant hands that only reach our if ashamed.” Our cities are no longer designed for people, but for cars, our homes are now even designed with offices to eliminate the need for commutes, so we lose these simple passing moments with strangers. The disappearance of third places, those informal gathering spots that exist outside of work and home, and the rebranding of simply hanging out as “loitering”, leaves us feeling as though social interaction is now a commodity. These are the consequences of a culture too obsessed with productivity or status.
We have also lost the art of the simple favour, given freely without expectation of anything in return. We are constantly told that we ‘don’t owe anyone anything’ and to focus on our own self-improvement. Sami Omais argues that extreme individualism has eroded our sense of community trust. Yes, it is these, small everyday favours (along with the occasional inconvenience) that are the price we must pay for community.
However, it would be unfair to ignore the pressures that capitalism places on us. Working 9-to-5 while caring for our loved ones, without the ‘village’ we were promised, leaves little time or energy for others. It’s a vicious cycle: as we struggle to meet our own needs, we become less able to support those around us, further deepening our isolation.
So why, exactly, does this matter? While it is well understood that community is good for our mental and physical health, the consequences of isolation go far beyond individual well-being. One of the most pressing dangers is the rise of domestic extremism, particularly among the far-right and incels. As our sense of community erodes, the human need for belonging doesn’t disappear which makes people vulnerable to ideologies that offer a sense of identity, purpose and belonging, even if these come with radical principles or deadly consequences.
Growing research suggests that when people feel alienated from local communities, they begin to develop extremist attitudes. In fact, when former extremists were asked about what radicalised them, it took only a few minutes before they mentioned that they were ‘in search of belonging’ or ‘looking for community.’ If we, as a country, cannot provide adequate support for people who need a sense of security, we can hardly be surprised to see so many people turning to extremism, which promises a simple solution and easily places the blame on immigration or the ‘nanny state’. And once within these extremist circles, whether online or in person, one will actually find that it is more likely to shrink your social circle, and even income. Furthermore, when individuals enter this echo chamber of the alt-right-pipeline they’re only a couple of clicks away from a supposed solution to their grievances.
We see these patterns in the UK landscape, UK onward found that in areas among the top decile places of their index of social fabric, 44% of people voted to leave the EU compared to more than 62% in the bottom decile, where social fabric is most frayed. While it would be overly simplistic to suggest that all Brexit voters were far-right extremists, a significant proportion of far-right extremists supported Brexit. Additionally, Oxford Consultants for Social Inclusion, found that the seats now held by Reform UK also showed higher levels of deprivation than the national average. Notably, Labour won 19 of the 20 most deprived constituencies, with the Conservative party coming second in only one of these, while Reform UK emerged as the second-place finisher in eight of the 20 constituencies, indicating that in deprived areas with less community, social disconnection is playing a role in political shifts, making certain areas more susceptible to polarisation.
The consequences of this isolation extend beyond political changes; they create conditions where extremism can thrive and foster this new ‘individual terrorism.’ Some government strategies, like Prevent, have, in some cases, further marginalised communities, rather than addressing the root cause. In Leicester, it was found that Prevent further alienated Muslim communities, deepening issues between individuals and authorities. This tactic does not work, profiling people for their ethnicity or religion is useless when addressing actual the threat we are facing of ‘lone wolf domestic terrorism’.
One of the clearest examples of this is the rise in incel extremism (men who blame women for their ‘involuntarily celibacy’) which thrives in online spaces where socially isolated individuals reinforce each other’s perceived injustices. The 2021 Plymouth shooting is a stark reminder of how these radicalised individuals, who operate outside of extremist groups, are still a threat. Having been radicalised through digital echo chambers, traditional counterterrorism strategies are ineffective.
Ultimately, extremism will not be tackled through surveillance and profiling, we need grassroots infrastructure which foster social cohesion and genuine belonging. Yet in the past five years two thirds of councils have not increased spending on youth services. If we begin to strengthen local services and create inclusive spaces, we will begin to prevent future extremism. A stronger, more connected society is not just a hopeful ambition but a necessity. The question is not whether we can afford to rebuild communities, but whether we can afford not to.