Highlights
I have spent most of my career studying what happens in the brain when people feel threatened, and what happens when other people are present during that threat. I’ve learned that the brain treats other people as a resource. Not metaphorically. Literally. The presence of a trusted companion reduces the cognitive and emotional load associated with threat.
Surveying the broader literature, it’s clear that this is a highly generalized principle of the human brain, which has been shaped by natural selection to yield a surprising amount of labor to the people around it. What kind of labor? Name it. Emotion regulation. Entertainment. Moving furniture. Parenting. Regulating your immune response. Water. Sanitation. Maintaining the power grid. Disaster relief. War. Solving problems nobody predicted. We are all dumber and more vulnerable when we’re alone.
We hear a lot of vague generalizations about how good community is for us, how it fosters joy, health, and well-being. All of that is true. But community is not merely a pleasant social atmosphere. It does not guarantee everyone will be nice. It may not make you feel understood or validated. It doesn’t even necessitate being liked.
The reality is prosaic. Real community is mostly just what is familiar and reliable in your social atmosphere, the good with the bad. It is what remains after people have had to deal with each other and still keep showing up.
Real evidence of belonging comes from the daily friction of lives in contact.
Families know this. Long-term groups of friends know this. People in small towns know this. Communities that feel easy can offer entertainment, maybe solace at times. They can also be shallow and conditional. The communities that require real investment are often the ones that offer the most hope for joy and love and laughter and success.
Real Community is Difficult
There are at least two iron laws of human life. The first is that other people are necessary for long, healthy, and happy lives. The second is that other people—and you are “other people” to somebody—are a pain in the a**.
Other people have irritating opinions. They have needs that don't align with yours. They disappoint you, misunderstand you, make the problem about them, show up at odd times, vote for the idiot you hate, have restrictive dietary needs, love Marvel movies. Unlike your social media feed and Spotify library, they cannot be optimized to your preferences.
The twist is that this is why other people are so good for you. When it comes to belonging to a community, difficulty is a feature, not a bug.
The brain is always looking for evidence that it is embedded in a predictable and reliable social network, a community. The question is, what counts as evidence? It certainly isn’t someone just telling you that you belong. To the brain, words are weak sources of evidence. We have a well-worn aphorism for this: actions speak louder than…
No, real evidence of belonging comes from the daily friction of lives in contact. It’s the proof that you’ve worked for your community, been inconvenienced by it, given it as much as it’s given you. Yes, the good times count. Laughing and loving, eating together, holding hands, singing at concerts, worshiping together, travel, all those photo albums…that’s all real and good. But is it proof? Maybe. You know what plants you into a community? Civic infrastructure, for one thing, and speaking of pains in the a**: taxes, helping your elderly neighbor in a crisis, staying up late with your depressed friend to talk.
I’m not talking about tolerating abuse or violence or theft. No one should have to endure cruelty or exploitation. You have rights. But when you must negotiate with people, accommodate them, earn their trust and re-earn it over time—when they need you as genuinely as you need them—that is when you know, you belong to a community.
Nobody ever built a real community out of people who agreed on everything and needed nothing from each other.
Think of every friendship you've maintained through inconvenience, every conflict you worked through instead of walking away from, every moment you showed up for someone when it really cost you something. That was the practice of community. It was also your brain learning that you belong. And learning that you belong is just about the best thing that can happen to you.
Relationships in an Uncertain Future
Listen: The challenges ahead—technological, political, cultural, ecological—are not ones any of us can face alone. The answer to genuine, unpredictable hardship is not going to be some kind of well-prepared bunker. It's going to be a deeper, richer, larger, maddening, exasperating community of people ready to be there when you need it, when it counts. Ample research shows that when real disaster hits, your community is likely to be there for you, no matter what you look like, prefer, voted for, believe in, or what.
So, resist the temptation to cultivate an easy and validating community. Persons are not playlists. Take part in the social world that is actually around you. Know your neighbors. Answer your phone. As you go out into the world, and as you face the many challenges and opportunities ahead of you, let other people be a pain in the a**. Just like you.
It won't always feel good, but it isn't supposed to. Nobody ever built a real community out of people who agreed on everything and needed nothing from each other. That's not even a community. It’s more like a group chat on social media. The real thing is slower, and it will cost you. Most days, it won't look like much. Just people showing up for each other in mundane ways.
But do that enough times, and one day you'll notice that you are not alone.
James A. Coan is a Professor of Psychology at the University of Virginia and Director of the Virginia Affective Neuroscience Laboratory.
Editor’s Note: This essay is an edited version of the author’s speech to the 2026 graduating class of the Cognitive Science Department at the University of Virginia. The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views, policies, or positions of the Institute for Family Studies.
*Photo credit: Shutterstock
