America’s love affair with work runs deeper than productivity. In a country where suburban sprawl and commercial zoning have pushed out gathering places like public squares, diners and barbershops, the workplace has filled that void.
For many Americans, the office isn’t just where they earn a living—it’s where they find community, identity and meaning. The problem? Work wasn’t designed to carry that weight.
Experts say relying on the workplace as our default third space might be doing more harm than good, but a focus on community could reverse this trend.
What are third spaces and why are they vanishing?
The term “third space” was coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg to describe informal gathering places that exist outside of the home (first space) and work (second space). These spots–cafés, libraries, parks and pubs–serve as neutral zones where people of all backgrounds can connect and unwind. In many countries, third spaces are baked into daily life.
Paris has its cafés. Seoul has its jjimjilbangs. Copenhagen has its corner coffee shops and design-forward public libraries. However, in the U.S., those spaces are becoming increasingly scarce. Zoning laws, car-centric infrastructure, rising rents and the privatization of public space have all chipped away at our third-space infrastructure. “We want to be insulated. We want to be in our little cocoon and not have that bigger interface,” says Brad Cornelius, a senior urban planner and vice president at Wade Trim Inc. “That’s where I think that change has happened.”
Why the office became America’s default third space
As traditional gathering spaces declined, the workplace filled that gap for many people—sometimes intentionally, often by default. Company lounges, lunchrooms and Slack threads became places for casual conversation. Work-sponsored outings replaced civic clubs. Even coworking spaces like WeWork positioned themselves as community hubs. Remote workers now find connection through digital coworking rooms and Slack channels.
For many, it’s become the only consistent space for casual social interaction. “[People] build this whole identity around work as their third space, because if they can grow that space, they have a sense of self,” says Dr. Dominique Pritchett, a licensed therapist and organizational wellness consultant. “And so when that is in chaos, that’s where we see a lot of people struggle with crisis of identity.”
The risks of work as your third space
When connection and identity are tied to a paycheck, the sense of belonging becomes fragile. If a layoff, team reorganization or toxic dynamic enters the picture, the loss reverberates far beyond a professional setback. “If our third space is tied to work, that means the labor that we’re putting in is not just intellectual, physical—it’s emotional labor,” says Pritchett. “It can be so darn exhausting that [people] burn out. We see the lack of morale, the increased stress, lack of productivity—which all contradicts a place where we say we want to be included, belong and have community.”
Pritchett also warns against the language some organizations use to deepen this dependency —especially phrases like “we’re a family here.” While intended to promote unity, this type of language can blur the boundaries between professional obligations and personal identity. It subtly pressures employees to prioritize loyalty and emotional investment in ways that may not be reciprocated. “Employers—no, I know employers—need to be very mindful of creating that whole workplace family thing… That right there blurs the lines… belonging is controlled in that instance.”
What we’re losing when third spaces disappear
Third spaces have always played a bigger role than we give them credit for. They foster casual interactions between people who might not otherwise cross paths. They help neighbors become friends. They give rise to volunteer groups, book clubs and impromptu jam sessions. But these spaces are increasingly rare. “They don’t care about the larger community,” Cornelius says of many developers. “They care about getting the highest price, the highest return on whatever they’re building.” The result? Fewer accessible gathering places—and a public culture that prizes privacy over participation.
Rebuilding third spaces—one city (or neighborhood) at a time
Still, some cities are fighting back. “The best thing I think local governments can do to help turn that really is get back to this idea of investing in parks and open spaces and gathering,” Cornelius says. He points to a zoning overhaul in Citrus County, Florida, that now requires developers to include public gathering areas—privately owned but open to the public for events. “They’re not going to be the European plazas… but it will be open community, communal spaces.”
He emphasizes the importance of reframing these requirements as good business: “I don’t sell it—‘Hey, this is a good planning thing.’ I sell it and say, ‘This is a good development thing and this will make your development more attractive.’”
Can individuals help recreate third spaces?
While governments shape policy, Cornelius believes people drive true community. “We just have to get those people out there, those leaders out there to be the ones that say, ‘Come, follow me. Let’s have this other place where we can get together as a community.’” He highlights the Royal neighborhood in Sumter County, Florida, a historically Black community that continues to thrive through regular gatherings in parks, churches and shared spaces. “They have a third space… They actually have more than one.”
Pritchett agrees and encourages people to look beyond digital connections. “We are so engulfed in technology that we forget what a third space can actually look like and feel like,” she says. “Going to your community events, going to spiritual spaces, back to barbershops… just getting back to something traditional.”
She also encourages a mindset shift: “Something that we can intrinsically do is redefine our sense of self-worth. So often we lead with, ‘Oh, what do you do?’ And that becomes our identity. So kind of doing some self-guidance or self-work to redefine your worth.”
As the boundaries between personal and professional lives continue to blur, it’s easy to let work stand in for everything else. But real community—the kind that sustains us through career shifts, personal changes and life transitions—needs space to breathe outside the office. Reclaiming third spaces doesn’t always require grand city planning or corporate strategy. It begins when someone decides to show up, to gather, to create room for connection with no strings attached. In doing so, we make space not just for others, but for ourselves.
Photo by Jacob Lund/Shutterstock
